The following hours are uneventful, and Damien is bored. He yawns and gets up from where he is sitting, stretching his legs.
"That Jin dude might be worldwide handsome, but he's been doing yoga in front of a cave by the ocean for an hour and that's not exactly riveting," he complains. "I'm gonna go out and chill for a bit. Anything exciting comes up, just yell and I'll be back."
Namjoon shrugs in reply. He has already given up trying to find a way to escape when he's left alone in the monitoring room, something which happens often. The soldiers always lock the door, and there are no windows, besides the one in the adjoining bathroom that's far too small for someone of Namjoon's stature. But he's still glad for some alone time, just him and his bandmates. His bandmates that he will never meet again. He misses them. In a way he feels lost without them. The soldiers see him as nothing but clumsy and timid. He could be so much more, but all his confidence and suaveness is gone without his team by his side.
He watches Taehyung and Jimin find a leafy tree to hide in. They don't compare weapons, but Namjoon knows what they have. Taehyung's is a bow and accompanying arrows, and Jimin's a small bottle of potassium cyanide. They don't talk about weapons. Instead, they talk about animals, the beach, their hometowns, and Namjoon.
He doesn't expect to hear his own name come up, doesn't expect the rapid development of that lump in his throat, but when he hears Jimin murmur in that squeaky voice of his, "Namjoon-hyung, if you can hear this, we love you and please live, be happy, make all your dreams come true, please, hyung", the tears come freely.
"I love you too," he whispers, despite knowing that no one can hear him. "All of you."
YOU ARE READING
We might die
FanfictionSix contestants, only one can survive. Namjoon watches as his bandmates are forced into a game of kill-or-be-killed.
