하나

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Jungkook sighed, shuffling into his tiny, cramped up apartment and dropping his bag beside the door and kicking his shoes off. They landed next to the couch, which he lazily flopped onto. He kicked his feet up onto the space that was meant for two, but there was only one. Funny. Every time he blinked, spoke, moved or took a breath, someone on the other side of the world was dying. His neighbours could be dying. He didn't care, to be honest.

There was a difference between the ones that died every time he took a breath and the ones that died every time he left the house. That would be his bag. Jungkook didn't think he was a psychopath, but what psychopath does? The more he thought about his bag, the more it bothered him. He'd have to clean up his stuff. Then he could get to work on himself.

Ouch. His arms stung thinking about it. He'd put off cleaning his stuff longer to put off the acts that followed, but then he'd never do it. He'd tell himself he didn't have to do the routine, but he did. Every time. It just had to happen. He had to do it. He didn't know whether his simple punishments would lead to anything more, he hoped it didn't. All he knew was that he did something bad. So he had to be punished. He wasn't guilty about the bad things, he just grew up knowing that he was bad and had to be punished. He didn't like the punishment, but it had to be done.

"Get your shit together." He said out loud to himself. Anybody walking past his door would think he was crazy. He was crazy. "Now!" He snapped at himself. Why was acting like the people who raised him the only way to get him to do things? They even forced the punishment on him. Well, he forced it on himself, not able to cope with the guilt of what he'd done. He did it more often now, he felt no guilt. But habit forced him to punish himself.

He stood, moving to get his bag, closing his door. He moved to the kitchen, dumping the bag on the counter and starting the hot tap running. What didn't he need to clean? He only used a knife today, nothing else. That was it? No, the victim is clothes as well. They had to be cleaned and sent to charities. The victim didn't need them. Into the washing machine.

Murder. Punishment time. What will it be today, Jungkookie? Don't go easy on yourself, now. You did a bad, Jungkookie.

To the bathroom he went. He slammed his hands onto the sink and stared himself in his eyes. He had pretty eyes. He had pretty everything, if he'd admit it, and he did. The scars were pretty, in a way. They told a story. Stories are pretty.
  
"Stop staring at yourself and go." He commanded himself, and moved for the razor blades. He hesitated and shouted at himself to go again.

Do it quick do it quick quick quick quick.

He flung the blade across the room and collapsed down next to the bath. It was over the vein this time. He was running out of places that were clean. He fought back tears. There was nobody to cry for. He deserved this. And it would happen tomorrow and the tomorrow after that as well.

The phone started ringing. He jumped and went to answer, casually pacing to the living room, trailing blood drops behind him. He'd have to bandage his wrist later, apparently.

"Who is it?" He asked, his voice wobbly. His gaze was fixed straight forward. He knew if he looked at it he'd want to do it again. 

"Jin." The voice on the other side of the phone answered. Jungkook was offended at how confident it sounded.

"You again?" Jungkook was getting sick of the calls. 라벤더 (Lavender). They wanted him so bad.

라벤더 was a gang that focused on murders and violent tendencies. As much as Jungkook wanted to join, he knew he worked better alone. Plus, he'd have to get more punishment. It would happen more. The gang had two leaders and a whole bunch of followers. Jin was the phone call guy. He did the negotiations and spoke to everyone. Hoseok was the main leader. He didn't speak to anyone. Jungkook had only heard his name mentioned once.

"Hear me out, I know you're worried about the cutting." Jin said, "we have people that'll take them for you since it's a group activity. We're a tight knit family, we don't let anyone get hurt unless they want to. You clearly don't want to."

"How do you know about the punishments?" Jungkook asked, suddenly nervous, glancing around. He hated his privacy being invaded. He had a personal bubble that most not be interfered with no matter the situation.

"Your window's open." Answered Jin. Jungkook threw his phone across the room and ran to the window. There stood Jin, smiling, poking his head through he window. "Hello, Jungkook."
 
This was the first time Jungkook had seen Jin's face. It probably wasn't the first time Jin had seen Jungkook's face.

"Come in?" Jungkook invited, not sure if he should let him in. "Why do you want me so bad?"

"We'd be unstoppable." Jin answered, climbing through the window and landing on the windowsill. "Your neighbour  has really nice roses. Salmon for desire."

"How do you know that?" Jungkook stalled for time as he slowly shuffled for his victim's clothes in the washing machine. It was only one today, so just one punishment. But it happened so often, he'd ran out of bandages. He grabbed a wet sock, doused it in cold water and pushed it to the wound. It wasn't long enough the get around his wrist without it ripping, and he needed it fixed for the charity. But still, the coolness brought some relief to him.

"I'm a very cultured man." Jin, meanwhile, was making himself at home, slouching on the couch. "Quite the charmer, actually. It helps if you have a handsome face with the charm. Luckily, I do."

It stung like hell, and that was all he could think about. It hadn't gone numb yet, and the harder he pushed against it, the more blood seemed to spill. He had to numb it. He'd kill Jin if he could still feel it. Whilst his uninvited guest rambled about his good looks, Jungkook threw the sock back into the washing machine and turned the cold tap on full. He stuck his wrist under. This made it hurt more somehow, and he let out a pained moan that was a bit too loud. It shut Jin up, and he looked over with concern.

"You okay?" He stood, walking over to check on him.

Jungkook spoke through gritted teeth. At least he wasn't about to cry anymore, although it hurt so bad it brought tears to his eyes. "Just stings a bit, that's all." He tried to force confidence into his voice, "what do I get from this gang thing, anyway?"

"A family. Friends. Do you not think you're lonely?" Jin awaited an answer, but didn't receive one, so went on. "I've been watching you. I think you're lonely, and I'm always right. Besides, I'll be there and nobody will hurt you. You won't have to cut anymore, either, so that's good."

Jungkook seriously thought about it.

You won't need to punish yourself my ass. You'll still need to. It's your routine. Pretty Boy here just doesn't understand.

"I'll do it." He said. He nodded to determine it. The voice in his head screamed in anger. It was numb now. It was okay. It was going to be okay, he was sure of it.

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