Past, Present and Mafia; SEVENTEEN ✔

thirty one.

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The first thing you did before you really started training, was exercise. You did two sets of fifty push-ups, one hundred sit-ups, two sets of one minute planks, fifty squats, one hundred lunges, then calf and thigh exercises. That took about two hours, then you started weapon training.

You grabbed the daggers and threw four at once, just to see where you stood. They all hit the bullseye. You took more daggers and aimed at a different target, but this time you threw looking away from the target. You threw one, and then a second one to see where you stood again. They both hit the bullseye again. You did the same things with the knives and they all hit the bullseye, along with doing them on the dummies for fatal aim practice.

Then you began with the nunchucks on one of the dummies. Minghao taught you a lot, but you taught yourself some tricks. Like jumping while using the nunchucks to avoid getting hit from the person you're fighting with, and you taught yourself how to wrap them around someone's neck in a matter of seconds, without them even knowing what you're doing. At one point, you hit the dummy and the head popped off, so you put the nunchucks away. You must've been too harsh on it.

You tightened your bandages, walking over to the punching bag before you began with the physical portion of your training. You started with some light punches and kicks to get used to the feeling of the bag against your skin, and gradually got harder. As you were thinking, certain things popped into you head that made you strive to go harder.

"That's why I'm thinking of taking your leader position away."

"Maybe you deserve the worst."

"That scar is unattractive."

"You're so sensitive."

You hit it hard, much harder than you anticipated, and the power behind it caused the punching bag to rip, and all of the grain inside of it poured to the ground. You walked over to the wall and slid down it. You were taking a breather when you heard a voice in the doorway.

"That was an old punching bag, but not even Jihoon could rip that thing, no matter how hard he tried."

Minghao sat in front of you. "I wasn't trying to rip it." You mumbled, looking at the ground.

"It's okay, we have plenty more." He said, putting his hand under your chin and lifting your head to meet his gaze. "You can't stay locked up in your room forever."

"Sure, I can. At least until a situation comes up to where I can show Seungcheol I'm still leader material." You said, making him cock an eyebrow.

"That's why you're training at two in the morning?" He questioned.

"Yeah, I guess. I want to show him that I'm capable of taking care of myself, but please don't say anything to him."

"I won't, don't worry about it."

You sighed. "How long were you standing there?"

"Just to see your attack on the punching bag." He smiled. "What made you go so hard?"

You shrugged. "I was just thinking."

He got up and helped you off the ground. "Your determination is something else, Seungbi."

"Something like that." You laughed. "Will you help me clean this up, just in case Seungcheol sees it. I don't want him or the others questioning it."

"Of course."

Both of you worked with the broom and vacuum, getting the mess cleaned up. "Thank you, Minghao."

"No problem. You should get your sleep, you've had a long day."

His hand rested on your neck as he leaned in to give you a kiss on the forehead. "Goodnight, Minghao."

"Night, Seungbi."

You walked upstairs, and as soon as your body hit the mattress, you fell asleep.

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