SPY-ISH → bts fanfiction

chapter sixteen

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M.Y.G

NAMJOON IS right at our sides by the time Park Jimin and I return to the "base." I pull off the now suffocating blazer and toss it onto the cot set out for me, silently absorbing Kim Namjoon's incessant talking.

"So you did talk to the target? And a relationship? You've begun to familiarize yourselves, right? Also, do people have trouble believing your step brother story? I'm still a bit shaky on that. Still think cousins would be better. No offense, Jin Hyung..."

"Hyung!" Park Jimin exclaims all of the sudden.

Namjoon and I jump a little and turn to look at him. I've yet to hear Jimin raise his voice at Kim Namjoon. Then the talkative boy's face transforms into that more serious, focused face I'm more used to seeing. Jimin swallows hard and stays silent, probably wondering whether it'd been a good idea to snap.

"I'm sorry. I'm just really tired. We did well today. Just stop worrying," Jimin mumbles in response to Namjoon's heavy silence.

I sigh and run a hand through my hair, grabbing my bag to change. The tenseness between the two is awkward and unnecessary, something I don't need to be apart of. Jimin and Namjoon are still quiet as I walk to the other room.

Though it's dark, I fumble around for a T-shirt and get to putting on a random one, not even caring enough to feel whether it's going on backwards. Just as Jimin said, I'm tired. Mentally and physically. I experienced things that brought back memories I want to stay far away from. And the whole ordeal makes me question my sanity once again. Why am I even doing this?

Yet my desperation to find her overpowers my aversion to this whole "spy" thing. It overpowers my exhaustion.

"Yoongi, you're an absolute twig," a sudden voice ripples through the darkness.

I jump and instinctively cover my bare chest with the T-shirt I'm about to put on. Since when has Seokjin been here?

"Oh. Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you," he says quickly, and I spin around to see him sitting against the stone wall.

A small trickle of light from the moonlit night outside shines a white sliver over him. He looks exhausted for some reason.

"It's fine," I mutter after he remains silent.

Seokjin is the type of person who needs a response. He sighs after I speak, placing hands on his knees and standing. He grabs a cup of coffee I hadn't noticed and stands there for a moment.

"I overheard you guys telling Namjoon about your day," he continues, and I shrug. "Sounds like you made progress."

I shrug again. He chuckles.

"That's good," he sighs, looking down at his coffee.

What is wrong with him? I watch Seokjin a bit longer with bewilderment, still confused and shirtless. After a moment of further silence he clears his throat and looks up, as if breaking from a trance.

"Well, I'll let you get back to your changing," he murmurs.

Then without another word, he soundlessly walks out of the small room. I blink, staring after him. Something is wrong.

And I'm not sure if I want to know what.

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"So here's the plan for today, Yoongs, I'm gonna do the talking. You're the field tech guy, I'm the talk guy..." Jimin trails off at my heavy glare. "Eh heh. I mean, Min Yoongi."

I turn away and tune out his rambling as we walk down the school hallway to our lockers. If Jimin wants to pretend to be Jeon Jungkook's friend for the "mission," then that's fine. But there's no way I'm going to let him be fake friends with me. We're already unwilling partners. That is enough.

Park Jimin is suddenly interrupted at the sight of the one he's now considering our "main mission antagonist." In other words, the prepubescent boy from the day before who didn't pummel me for some reason.

"If it isn't the two stepbrother heroes," the slimy student says as we walk by his group of almost equally as immature followers.

I can't help but steal a glance at Jimin to see whether he'll be able to control his temper. He sets his jaw tight, but says nothing in response.

"Oh, so you're all quiet now, huh? Guess your boyfriend snapped some sense in to you— oh, I mean your stepbrother!" The boy continues to heckle us, but somehow, Jimin remains calm.

The thing is, however, we're now standing still, because I have to retrieve a textbook from my locker. Park Jimin crosses his arms and glares at the ground. I have a sudden urge to ask him to keep it up.

"He's not worth it," Jimin mutters to himself with grit teeth. "He's. Not. Worth. It."

I realize then that Seokjin must have talked to him last night. His anger was too obvious not too notice. Perhaps Park Jimin has now acquired some more skills in ignoring bullies. Something he's probably not dealt with in whatever training they give him at his agency. That's a relief.

"I thought you said you weren't done with me, huh?! Well let's finish it!" The boy whose name just slips farther away yells out with his laughing groupies.

I let out a soft sigh, gently closing my locker. This boy is nothing compared to those in my own high school. He is nothing. If Jimin knew how much worse teenagers can be, perhaps he'd have as much self control as I do.

"Let's go," I murmur, stepping away from my locker.

Jimin clenches his fist and nods, stepping towards my side. His face is almost a bright red now.

"I wanna punch him so bad right now," Jimin says. "Yoongi, will you be mad if I punch him?"

"Frankly, yes. We're not here for..."

"Yeah, that's right! Listen to your boyfriend like a good little boy! Maybe I'll dump Taehyung and make him my shuttle. How would you like that, punk?!"

"...that," I finish with a sigh.

Jimin is no longer at my side.

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