Purple Death | A BTS Murder Mystery ✔

TWELVE

"Jungkook."

Knock, knock, knock.

"Jungkook? Jungkook!"

Namjoon knocked again on Jungkook's door, louder and more urgently this time. 

"Jungkook!"

The door slammed open and a wide-eyed, still-in-pyjamas Jungkook appeared in the doorway.

"Hyung?" he questioned, visibly still sleepy. 

"Jungkook. Could you join us in the living room, right now?" Namjoon asked, tone serious. It didn't sound much like a question.

Jungkook's eyes diverted to the side, and he noticed the rest of the members were standing behind Namjoon, staring at him like they had seen a ghost. All five of them, staring at him. 

He blinked.

"Sure? Let me just get dressed and I'll - "

"No," Namjoon cut him off. "We have to speak to you right now. No need to get dressed." 

Namjoon grabbed Jungkook by the arm and dragged him behind him as he made his way to the living room, the confused boy doing nothing to resist the pull. The rest of the members followed, and soon they were all in the living room, Jungkook siting on the couch and staring with wide eyes at his elders. 

"Jungkook. Jungkook..." Namjoon started, seemingly having trouble finding the right words. The others didn't help him, rather they just stared at Jungkook emptily and warily.

Jungkook blinked. "Hyung?" he questioned, slightly confused about this whole thing. 

Namjoon shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts.

"Jungkook. That night, the night - the night Hobi died... Did you - did you go to his room?"

Namjoon's voice had started strong, but it had quickly lowered to a whisper.

Jungkook froze slightly, and his gaze diverted from Namjoon to the right, focusing on the painting hanging on the wall behind him. He couldn't look at Namjoon anymore, because then Namjoon would be able to see into his eyes, all the way into his soul, and while Jungkook could hide his lies behind his skin, he could never hide them behind his soul.

His soul, it held his truth. A truth he wasn't ready to tell Namjoon, a truth he wasn't ready to tell anyone.

"Did you... see him, that night? Did you see Hobi?" Namjoon questioned again.

Jungkook looked a little more to the right, his eyes focusing on the frame of the painting, a little farther from Namjoon's questioning gaze. And, more than anything, he did all he could to stay unmoving, to hide the thoughts and fears that had overtook him as Namjoon had asked that question.

He was no fool, he knew exactly what the question entailed. Did you see him? Did you talk to him? Did you kill him? 

His thoughts and fears, he had tried hard to hide them since Hoseok's death. He had done a poor job at it, yet no one had questioned him on it. No one had dared asked him what was wrong with him, if perhaps it was something more than just losing his best friend. No one had, until now.

He wasn't ready. 

Jungkook blinked, trying to ignore the shadow of the sword hanging above his head. A sword that was held by the five members and that carried the weight of the accusations, a sword that had been hanging above Jungkook ever since Hoseok's death, but that only now had hands aware of its existence and willing to use it.