THE RAVEN KING, yoonkook

chapter xxiii: amateurs

Yoongi is an assassin, not a detective. He doesn't know how to search for clues, how to interrogate people. So, as he stands in the bathroom, the scene of the crime, he doesn't know what to do. He doesn't know where to start, what to look for—or how to look for it. He just stares, pretending he knows what he's doing whenever anyone comes in. But he doesn't. He doesn't know what he's doing... at all.

If only finding things could be as easy as killing things.

*  *  *

With Yoongi being promoted yet again—this time to temporary head detective—Jungkook is placed in the care of Hoseok. His jester and adoptive father would be by his side anyway, and has plenty of free time on his hands, so he seemed the logical choice. Namjoon, when he isn't busy trying to guide the knights' search for the amulet and run everything within his power, also stops by to keep him company—but he is being run off his feet, so this time is brief.

Jungkook still feels helpless. Despite the constant assurance that no harm will come to him, that the amulet will be found, he still feels like he'll die. He can't help but feel useless—his inability to protect himself means he can't do anything, except sit around all day. His throne is being run from bed, with his uncle standing in for anything that requires his presence. The assassin must already feel as though they've won.

"I want to get stronger." Jungkook sighs, sit up a little in his bed. Hoseok sits at the other end, playing with a small deck of cards that're always on his person. The kookaburra pauses mid-shuffle and glances up at his chick, an eyebrow raised in question. "I'm not strong enough."

"I think you're one of the strongest people here. You could kill me like..." There's a gap, a moment of silence hanging in the air in anticipation, as Hoseok puts all his cards in one hand. Then, with a hand now free, he clicks his fingers together, "Like that. You could kill me like that, if you wanted to."

"I could not. If you mean my magic, I don't even know how to use it properly; I've never really used it."

Hoseok snickers, "As a little chick, you would. Joon would get you for bed, when you were playing with your toys or something, and if you didn't want to go... any attempt to grab you would result in us being stuck—it'd suddenly be so heavy, we couldn't even move!" The kookaburra starts laughing, an obnoxious cackle that echoes excuses throughout the room. "One time– Once, you even turned your teacher into a puppet!" The laughter continues, though what he's saying doesn't sound that funny.

"But I barely know how to control those things! I've only managed to, recently, when I'm fearing for my life or upset."

With a careless shrug, the older male says, "Well, that's the only time it really matters anyway. But, if it'll make you happy, we can go train."

"That's what I've been trying to get at," The young king grumbles to himself, barely comprehensible, "Some father you are—can't even read my mind."

"Get dressed, we'll go down to the courtyard."

* * *

Yoongi is walking through the corridor, feeling thoroughly drained from asking everyone the same question over and over, when he hears a sudden crash. Nearing Jungkook's room, he panics and breaks out into a sprint; he rushes towards the king's bedroom, hands going to weapons and body tensing—preparing for some kind of fight.

Rushing around the corner, he comes to an abrupt stop. There, in the centre of the hallway, lies Taehyung. A vase is gripped in his hand, its stand toppled over his body. Eyes wide, body frozen, he's certainly a sight—one that makes the older male want to snigger as he approaches. But he can't, trying hard to maintain an air of professionalism.