We might die

Chapter 16

The ship personnel manage to find a spare room for them, where they can spend the night before docking in Japan the next morning. They thank the personnel multiple times, with lots of bowing and nodding and tears, and then they're ushered inside and left alone to rest.

The room is nice—a huge improvement from Namjoon's cramped control room, and an even huger upgrade from Jimin and Taehyung's tree. There's a small round window where they can look at the waves, and a nice shower which everyone takes turns using. There are four bunk beds allowing one sleeping spot for each, with one spare where they can dump the backpacks.

Of course, even though everyone claims a bed, no one actually takes the beds, except for Seokjin. Everyone else crowds around and over Seokjin's bed because this is one of the situations where everyone wants to be close to someone and personal space means nothing.

"So. I really hope they bring our families to Japan. I really want to see Jjangu," Seokjin says, ruffling Jungkook's hair. The youngest is lying on Seokjin's thigh. Taehyung is draped over Jungkook, and at the foot of the bed, head lolling against Taehyung's thigh, is a lazy Hoseok with Jimin in his lap. On the other end of the bed sits Namjoon, leaning on Seokjin's shoulder, while Yoongi is curled up at Namjoon's feet, arm slung over his stomach like a girl on her period.

"Besides," Seokjin continues, "it'd be great if the world knows that we're not dead. I'm too handsome to be dead. And I'd really hate it if the world keeps thinking of Yoongi and Jimin as cold-blooded killers."

"Yeah." Yoongi hums. "I bet the world hates us now." He glances at Jimin, who is staring at his mobile phone with a thoughtful expression. "Goodness, Jimin, don't read the comments. Whatever you do don't look up your name or go on Twitter or whatever. You don't want to see the comments."

Namjoon winces. "You've already seen the comments?"

Yoongi smirks. "I haven't, but I can imagine how they'll be like."

Yes, the world probably hates him and Jimin, Yoongi knows, but strangely enough, he is okay with that. He is more than okay with that. If being hated means this, means that his team is here, now, together, then really the world can hate him for all he cares. And it's all right if it's him, he thinks.

Namjoon didn't specifically pick him out for the role, he just happened to be the one with the MP3 player as a weapon. But even if he hadn't been the one with the MP3 player, he would still rather it was him than anyone else.

Back in the abandoned house, when Yoongi picked up the shotgun and pretend-aimed at Hoseok through Namjoon's man-hole, Hoseok had frowned, mouthed, "are you sure? Is this okay?" For there was still time for them to change roles—they could pull it off somehow—Hoseok could pretend-kill Yoongi in self-defense and then act like he was traumatized and go on a crazy unhinged killing spree. Yoongi didn't have to be the killer. Hoseok could do it too. It didn't have to be Yoongi's role.

But he wanted it. Better him than Hoseok. He wasn't sure if his own acting skills were good enough to pull anything off, to be honest, but he couldn't live with it if the world thought Hoseok was a killer. It just wouldn't do. He was everyone's hope and sunshine and angel. His country, with its current state, needed its hope and sunshine and angel.

So it had to be him. He would do it again and again with no regrets. The audience could hate him, as long as they didn't lose their hope.

"It's kind of hard to imagine," Namjoon muses, "that people would actually watch and believe that someone like Yoongi-hyung and Jimin could kill their own bandmates. I was watching on the monitors... It was really scary. And weird, because I knew they'd never do that."

"Yeah, I'd never poison Tae, never never never," Jimin murmurs, eyes half-hooded from sleep. Hoseok's lap is cozy and exhaustion is spreading through the group like wildfire. "I'd rather die first. Ten times over. If Namjoon-hyung hadn't found a way to save us... It would have been... It would have been so bad." From his position over Jungkook, Taehyung squeezes Jimin's hand.

"I don't even want to think about what it would have been like," Yoongi mumbles. He had been lucky enough to be presented another way out right after the game had begun. He can't imagine what would have happened if that hadn't been the case. Would he have killed? Would the others?

"If we had to play the game for real, I think we'd probably just... hang out and sing together for three days and die when the time comes," Seokjin says, ponderingly. "Or we would decide on a winner by rock paper scissors and everyone else just shoots each other or jumps off a cliff. Or maybe we wouldn't play rock paper scissors, and instead we would just all shoot each other and let Jungkook live."

"What?" the maknae, who had been silently cozying it up under Taehyung and the blankets on Seokjin's bed, screams at the sudden mention of his name. "What the fuck? Why me?"

"It's only fair," Yoongi explains, "we've been in this world for years longer than you have, so if we have to choose one of us to have more years to live it would have to be you."

"Don't wanna," Jungkook complains, voice slurred under the covers. "don't wanna live without hyungs."

No one wants to admit it but everyone secretly tears up at this, and Namjoon (who totally tears up the most) tries to save the situation by immediately switching the topic.

"You know what, that's a depressing subject. It's all in the past now. Let's talk about the future."

"Yeah!" Seokjin agrees with exaggerated brightness. "Yeah! The future. So we'll settle down in Japan or... some other place... and we'll have our families with us. And we'll have each other. What next? Do we... like, get regular jobs? Or... continue to perform?"

"If they'd let us, I want to go on performing," Hoseok says, groggily. "The situation is shitty, but that's all the more reason we need to bring happiness back to whoever needs it."

Yoongi nods. "I want to write a song. About this. I mean, not literally write about how we're forced to kill each other and shit, just about this. About now. Because whatever happens in the future I'm happy now."

"Yeah, we should write a song about... overcoming. It doesn't have to be about overcoming death, just... overcoming. About how far simple, pure trust can bring us." Namjoon's brow crinkles, deep in thinking. "And we should name it—"

"Hole in the Wall," Taehyung slurs, half-asleep.

"I was thinking more along the lines of Together We Won't Die or Today We Will Survive, but I guess Hole in the Wall works too," Namjoon concedes.

Sleep gently takes over the small group, with the soft lulling rhythm of the ship, and Namjoon finally lets his eyes close, knowing that he's safe here in this pile of tangled limbs, he's loved, and there's nowhere else he'd rather be.

The End

Author's Note 

Thank you so much for reading! I know ending is not really great. I'm very sorry and please don't yell at me˚‧º·(˚ ˃̣̣̥᷄⌓˂̣̣̥᷅ )‧º·˚ I have no idea why I chose this subject matter for this fic but it just somehow ended up like this. Thank you, again!