Namjin Oneshots

Chapter 5: Threads of the Past

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The day wore on with a heavy silence in the small room at the back of *Lost Pages*. Seokjin sat by the window, staring out at the quiet alley behind the bookstore. His mind was restless, turning over every piece of information he had, but none of it made sense. His parents had always been secretive, but this was beyond anything he could have imagined. What could possibly be so important that they’d hide it from him—and arrange his marriage without telling him the full story?

Namjoon was seated at the desk, flipping through a stack of papers he’d gotten from Taehyung. “I think I might have a lead,” he said, breaking the silence.

Seokjin turned, his attention snapping to Namjoon. “A lead? What do you mean?”

Namjoon leaned back in the chair, folding his arms across his chest. “I called in a favor from someone who works with high-end printing companies. I sent him a picture of the letter, and he recognized the paper immediately. It’s used by a boutique printing shop in Seoul—one that caters to elite clients.”

Seokjin’s eyes widened. “So, we might be able to trace who ordered the letter?”

Namjoon nodded, though his expression remained serious. “It’s not a guarantee, but it’s a start. The shop keeps records of all their custom orders. If we can get our hands on that, we might find out who sent it.”

Seokjin felt a surge of hope. Finally, they were getting somewhere. “But how do we get those records? Won’t it be difficult to access them?”

Namjoon’s lips curved into a small, sly smile. “It would be—if we were asking nicely.”

Seokjin raised an eyebrow, trying to decipher Namjoon’s meaning. “What are you suggesting?”

Namjoon leaned forward, his voice lowering conspiratorially. “We don’t need to ask for the records. We just need to take a look at them. I’ve done this before. We go in, find what we need, and leave without anyone knowing we were there.”

Seokjin’s heart began to race. He wasn’t exactly the type to break into places and steal confidential information. But then again, everything about this situation was outside of his comfort zone. If it was the only way to get answers, then maybe he didn’t have a choice.

“You’ve… done this before?” Seokjin asked, his curiosity piqued.

Namjoon’s expression grew shadowed for a moment, a flicker of something dark passing through his eyes. “Let’s just say I’ve had to learn a few things over the years. This isn’t my first time going up against powerful people who don’t want their secrets exposed.”

Seokjin didn’t ask any more questions, but his mind was buzzing with curiosity. Who exactly was Namjoon? The calm, collected man who had saved him on the train seemed to have a much more complicated past than Seokjin had initially realized.

“So, we’re breaking into this printing shop?” Seokjin asked, still processing the plan.

Namjoon shrugged. “It won’t be as dramatic as it sounds. We’ll go after hours, take a look at their records, and get out. Simple.”

Simple, Seokjin thought to himself, though it didn’t feel that way. But before he could dwell on it further, Namjoon stood up, his expression decisive.

“We’ll leave after dark. It’s the safest time. Get some rest until then. We’ll need to move fast.”

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Hours passed in a blur. Seokjin tried to rest, but his mind was too busy imagining all the ways their plan could go wrong. What if they were caught? What if they found nothing? Every possible scenario played out in his head, but Namjoon remained calm, almost unnervingly so. He moved with purpose, gathering what they needed for the break-in as if it were just another task on his to-do list.

By the time night fell, Seokjin’s nerves were frayed. He pulled his jacket tighter around him as they slipped out of the bookstore and into the cool, dark streets. The city was quiet, the distant hum of traffic the only sound that broke the stillness. Namjoon led the way, moving with the same quiet confidence he always seemed to have. Seokjin followed close behind, his heart pounding in his chest.

They reached the printing shop without incident. It was nestled in an upscale part of town, surrounded by high-end boutiques and sleek office buildings. The storefront was dark, the blinds drawn. Namjoon glanced around, checking the street before motioning for Seokjin to follow him around the back.

“Stay close,” Namjoon whispered, his voice barely audible in the night.

Seokjin’s pulse quickened as they approached the back door of the shop. Namjoon crouched down, pulling something out of his pocket. A lockpick. Seokjin watched in silent amazement as Namjoon worked quickly, his hands moving with practiced ease.

Within moments, the door clicked open.

Namjoon glanced up at Seokjin, giving him a reassuring nod before slipping inside. Seokjin followed, his heart in his throat. The shop was eerily quiet, the scent of ink and paper heavy in the air. Namjoon pulled out a small flashlight, the beam cutting through the darkness as they made their way to the back office.

“Here,” Namjoon whispered, pointing to a filing cabinet in the corner. “This should have the records we need.”

Seokjin nodded, standing guard while Namjoon worked. His nerves were on edge, every creak of the floorboards making his heart race. But Namjoon was focused, his hands moving deftly as he rifled through the files.

After what felt like an eternity, Namjoon let out a soft sound of triumph. “Got it.”

He pulled out a file, quickly scanning the contents. “The order was placed by someone under the name ‘Project Atlas.’ It’s not a personal name, but this is definitely something big. Look at the delivery address.”

Seokjin peered over Namjoon’s shoulder, his eyes widening as he read the address. “That’s… that’s my parents’ company headquarters.”

Namjoon’s face darkened. “It looks like your parents are directly involved. But there’s something else here… This isn’t just about an arranged marriage, Seokjin. This letter, this project—it’s part of something much larger. Something dangerous.”

Seokjin felt a chill run down his spine. “What do you mean?”

Namjoon’s jaw tightened. “I’m not sure yet, but I’ve seen enough to know when something’s wrong. We need to dig deeper.”

Suddenly, a sound echoed through the shop—the soft click of a door opening.

Namjoon’s eyes widened. “Someone’s here.”

Seokjin’s heart leaped into his throat as panic surged through him. He grabbed Namjoon’s arm, his pulse racing. “What do we do?”

Namjoon didn’t hesitate. “We hide.”

Without another word, they slipped into a small storage closet, barely managing to close the door before footsteps echoed down the hallway. Seokjin held his breath, his entire body tensing as the footsteps grew closer. His mind raced with fear—if they were caught, everything would fall apart.

The door to the office creaked open, and Seokjin could hear someone moving around, papers rustling. He exchanged a tense glance with Namjoon, who remained perfectly still, his eyes locked on the door.

Minutes passed in agonizing silence, each second stretching longer than the last. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the footsteps receded, and the door closed again. Seokjin let out a shaky breath, his heart still hammering in his chest.

Namjoon waited a few moments longer before quietly opening the closet door. He peeked out, making sure the coast was clear before motioning for Seokjin to follow him.

“We need to go,” Namjoon whispered urgently. “Now.”

They moved quickly and quietly, slipping out of the office and back through the shop. Seokjin’s nerves were on edge, but they managed to make it out the back door without incident. Once they were back on the street, Seokjin finally allowed himself to breathe.

“That was close,” Seokjin muttered, still shaken from the close call.

Namjoon nodded, his expression grim. “Too close. We’re not the only ones looking for answers.”

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