CYPHER | BTS

39: TRAPPED

- T H I R T Y  N I N E -

July 04, 2020
Saturday

📍Osaka, Japan

༺❀༻

Min Yoongi

I've jumped out of planes, killed with my bare hands, robbed for other people, and nearly died throughout all of it, but nothing could have been more frightening as Namjoon's plan to relive our initiation.

Hands shackled together and bags thrown over our heads, I was suddenly fifteen again. Young and scared out of my damn mind, unsure of what was to come or where we were going. It brought me a sliver or peace knowing that this time, I wasn't going to be so unprepared for the unknown.

When I first sought out the mafia, I hadn't minded doing cruel things in exchange for a place to sleep. All I cared about was the idea of never having to see my father again, of having the power to do with him whatever I wanted. Back then, that had been my raging goal. Shelter. Revenge. But after I'd finished that, I'd been living a colorless life ever since—living the same routine and doing the same thing with the same people over and over again. Trapped.

I always figured I'd die that way. Have the light fade out in my eyes through clouds of black and white and a dull shade of grey.

But somewhere along the way, somewhere within the dirty haze of that colorless pit, Choi June had been that smidge of color in my book.

I never anticipated that the life I'd been living would ever discover a new end goal.

I never anticipated that it would be her.

"Stop it," Seokjin grits from beside me. His hand comes over my knee and squeezes down to stop me from bouncing it. "You're shaking the whole van."

"Quiet back there!"

I dug into my palms, leaving crescent marks behind. I knew we had to play the part as Milo's obedient little trainees and I knew we had to fully have our heads in the game but I couldn't control it—I was withdrawing. Bad.

As sweat coats my face and my body shakes, all I could truly think about was how badly I needed another dose of any drug. I would take anything at this point. I knew how selfishly fucked up the thought was, but I couldn't seem to care. I needed to get out of this fucking van. I needed to snort another line.

On the plane ride to Osaka, Namjoon had explained to us the plan of how we'd get into the warehouse undetected. He'd heard from an inside source stationed here at warehouse twelve that nine new trainees would be coming in today. Milo always had a thing for invoking fear when initiating new recruits to assert his dominance. He would have his men kidnap them and shove them into a van, handcuff their wrists together and throw a bag over their head so they couldn't see anything. Could only feel the bumps and turns in the road as they drove to whatever warehouse was closets to them. Would never even let them say goodbye to whoever would miss them.

"We'll create a roadblock. Something to get the van to stop for a while. Just so we can swap six trainees with us," Namjoon had explained. "Best if they don't think they're missing anyone."

In the lonesome road leading to the warehouse, where thick shadows of trees engulfed the sides, we had pulled the trunk of a tree out to block the road. The guards had stepped out of the van, perplexed and frustrated with the minor delay. We didn't have much time before they successfully carried it out of the way. We had to work fast.