SPY-ISH → bts fanfiction

chapter twenty

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M.Y.G

IT ISN'T long before Park Jimin shoves past Taehyung and me and starts storming down the crowded hallway.

"What's wrong with him?" Taehyung asks in bewilderment, glancing towards me. "He knows that guy? I don't. He must be new. How does Hanbae know him then?"

As Taehyung continues to talk to whomever, I step forward and also start towards the mysterious new kid. If Jimin starts a fight now (which it really looks like he'll do), then we both will be in hot water, especially with the team back at the warehouse. Jeon Jungkook shows up beside me as I walk fairly quickly after Jimin.

"Hey, where is Hanbae going and why is Taehyung talking to himself again?" He asks me.

I walk quicker, not in the mood for distractions, but Jungkook is taller despite our age difference, making it easy for him to keep up.

"Yeejin? Are you listening?"

I reach forward and grab Jimin's uniform collar, yanking him back towards me. I'm even surprised at my own sudden strength, but it was a desperate situation. He lets out a strangled gasp and stumbles back towards me.

"What are you doing?" I murmur in a low voice, as the boy is nearly right in front of us.

"Let go, Min Yoongi," he says in a unfamiliarly serious tone. "Now isn't the time for holding me back."

"It's always the time for holding you back. If you strike a random stranger, we'll be in serious trouble," I warn him, eyeing the said stranger warily.

He's still smiling despite Jimin's death glare, which is very off-putting. But then, suddenly, he locks eyes with me. I drop my hand, releasing my tight grip on Jimin's shirt, and stare in shock at the boy. His eyes are a chilly grey and immediately send a cold feeling down my back. I can feel my heart speed up and my throat constrict, like I can't breathe anymore. I let out short breaths, stumbling backwards and into Jungkook, who's still standing behind me.

"Yeejin?" His voice sounds watery and distant. "You okay?"

The guy who previously attempted to strangle me to death is standing before me, so I'm a bit less than "okay." Without wasting another second, I stumble around and start walking away, faster and faster sigh every step. Until I'm running, running through the crowded hallway, and away from that boy with the grey eyes.

I never expected to have such a reaction when I saw him again. I thought I would perhaps be frightened but at least be calm. I had a feeling I would happen upon him again, as it seemed inevitable after his first attempt at killing me. But I never thought I would have a panic attack of that level. I never expected to stop breathing and to run like I'd never done before. Even now, my head is feeling light and I sense the clamminess on my forehead and palms. I shouldn't be running like this. My body can't take it.

I stumble to a stop, gasping for air, though it's more out of fear than lack of exercise. I push my hand against the cool wall beside me, the other placed on my heaving chest. As my breathing slows, I look up and realize I'd ended up near the back of the school, with an exit door down the small hallway before me. Suddenly craving fresh air like never before, I stumble towards the large door and push outside, falling onto the hard ground as I come out. I weakly scoot back against the concrete wall beside the door, finally letting myself actually rest.

I'm completely alone now, and I feel powerful relief at the thought. Trying to distract myself, I study my whereabouts. There's a fence a ways away from where I'm sitting, that looks like it goes out and around the rest of the school. Beyond the fence is an open field that I assume is used for sports at the school. There's a few dumpsters to my left, sitting on the gravel that takes up this whole space.

I look down at my hands, realizing that's what's been poking my palms, and brush them off. And I continue to stare down at my hands, because this place looks too much like the place at my real high school, where all the students who thought they were better with cigarettes would hang out. A place where I'd be forced to go to at times.

I push away the memories and lean my head back against the wall behind me, looking up at the clear sky.

The sky is something like the entrance to Heaven, you know. That's why people are always trying to break through it.

I close my eyes and looked down again, shoving away her voice in my head. I don't need memories right now, whether they be good or bad. If I let myself get distracted with nostalgia or bitterness, I'll fail.

I sigh and look back towards the field, but I'm suddenly startled when I instead see a familiar greasy boy watching me carefully, leaning against one of the dumpsters, a cigarette unsurprisingly hanging from his lips. His serious look turns into a glare as he realizes I've noticed him. There is probably no way he won't bother me, so I begin to stand, despite the shakiness remaining in my legs.

"Yah," Taehyung's bully calls as I slowly walk back towards the door. "We need to talk."

I pause and look back to him, feeling uneasy as he's now walking towards me. I am not really in any kind of shape to defend myself against an attack, as I can't fight in the first place, and my bullet wound has yet to completely heal.

"Listen here, you little pretty boy," he mutters as soon as he reaches me.

I step back as the smell of cigarette smoke seeps down my throat. I know coughing would probably anger him. Anything would anger his kind. But I absolutely loathe the smell of cigarette smoke.

"I don't appreciate you and your moron brother sitting with my shuttle, so if you keep talking to him I'll burn cigarette holes in all three of you," he threatens, probably noticing my discomfort at the smoke.

I consider what to say to this, as we obviously would not be kicking Kim Taehyung out of our group. He is crucial in gaining Jungkook's complete trust. But I also know that I would be useless if I lost the use of my shoulder completely. So I simply look back up at the boy whose name I keep forgetting, staying silent and waiting for him to move.

But instead of moving, his eyes narrow and he clenched his jaw. Without much warning, the boy grabs my collar and shoved me against the concrete wall behind me, sending a shooting pain down my arm.

I wonder just what I'll do now.

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howdy folks