3000 Stars

Count to Three

"Taehyung," Dreyk said quietly. "Please breathe for me."

Taehyung shook his head, pulling his knees up to his chest. Dreyk sighed and reached out, pulling him into his arms. He was still as muscular as the days they had fought together, and Taehyung found himself melting into him, seeking the same sensation of safety and security he had been missing.

It was there, but it was different. Taehyung knew that neither of them still had feelings for the other. After Seokjin had died, they had separated; Taehyung in the rush of pain and Dreyk because he couldn't handle Taehyung anymore. Taehyung knew this. But he still tucked his head under Dreyk's chin and tried to press as much of himself into Dreyk as he could. He needed Dreyk. He needed someone to be secure for him.

Nothing was secure enough anymore.

Dreyk slid a hand into Taehyung's hair, sighing. "Breathe," he said.

Taehyung shook his head.

"The pain will stay here if you don't."

"I don't care," Taehyung hissed.

"Why are you still punishing yourself?"

"It's my fault," Taehyung said. The pressure in his lungs built. "It's all my fault."

"It's not your fault," Zen said, kneeling beside them and pressing a cool hand to Taehyung's face. "We all knew it was bound to happen sometime. He never wanted to be a part of this world."

Taehyung let out a sob, shaking his head and burying his face in Dreyk's shirt.

"Why don't we take you somewhere you can turn your hack off," Zen suggested, standing. "Dreyk?"

"Come on," Dreyk said in Taehyung's ear, pulling him to his feet. "Let's go."

Taehyung buried his face in Dreyk's shoulder, chest heaving. He didn't know if he could move, and he couldn't find the will to try. What was the point? No matter what he did, it would end badly. His parents didn't want him to fight. Yoongi wanted to meet his alter ego. He just wanted everyone to be safe, but he couldn't even top the rankings properly. He let out another sob, and Dreyk sighed, rubbing his back gently and guiding him in the direction Zen must have gone.

Taehyung's mind was full of Seokjin.

Seokjin's duality had inspired him when he joined the fight club, cloaking his natural tendency to joke and pull pranks with a dark hack and focused fighting skills. The two of them had trained together for so long, even on days when Seokjin was too depressed to do much more than stumble after Taehyung into the training room and sit down on a bench, wrapped in thoughts much darker than Taehyung had ever understood.

Even now he didn't understand them. It didn't matter how much he read, how much he saw. Depression, though a feeling he had felt before, was entirely foreign to him. It always dissipated in the anger that fueled every action, every step forward he had taken since that day.

He couldn't think about it. The memory was locked up in his mind, surrounded by the pain of the aftermath. He knew it must be the reason he was trapped here, clinging to Dreyk and contemplating running away for the third time, but he couldn't even try to bring the memory forward, couldn't talk about it. Everyone knew he had seen Seokjin die.

He knew he should have been able to talk him out of it.

Seokjin had rescued him the first time he ran away.

Why hadn't he been able to rescue Seokjin?

Dreyk sat him down at a table, and Taehyung blinked, watching dumbly as Dreyk pulled his phone out of his jacket and signed in, fingers moving effortlessly across the old tool's surface as he navigated Taehyung's account and turned his hack off. The prickling stopped, and Taehyung saw Zen's face soften as he sat down next to him, trapping him in the booth of whatever restaurant they had chosen.

"Drink this," Zen said, passing him a large cup.

Taehyung stared at the cup, then sighed, lying his head down beside it.

"You still can't talk about it, can you," Dreyk said.

Taehyung nodded.

"It's been five years," Zen said softly. "You don't want to try again?"

"That's what this was," Taehyung said. His voice was hoarse, and soft, and both of his friends leaned in to hear it. "Trying again. For Yoongi."

"Does he know?" Dreyk asked.

Taehyung shook his head.

"You can't do this to yourself," Zen said, resting a hand on Taehyung's shoulder. "A bet can't be worth this much to you."

"I can't let him see," Taehyung said.

"See what?"

"Me," Taehyung said. "I can't let him see me."

Zen and Dreyk exchanged looks. Then Dreyk sighed, reaching across the table and taking Taehyung's hand. "What did you bet on?" he asked.

It seemed so stupid. The words stuck in Taehyung's throat, and he turned his face into the table, taking another shuddering breath. He felt hollow inside. The words echoing in his head only made it worse.

"I told him I would let him meet V if he stayed at the top of the tournaments for a year."

Silence. Taehyung knew his friends well enough to know that they were staring at him, dumbfounded. He tried to force a laugh, but it came out too weak to fool anyone.

"I thought there was no way he would do it," he said. "He was disorganized and barely at half the score."

"And now he outranks you," Zen said softly.

Taehyung nodded.

Dreyk silently tapped Taehyung's head with the cup Zen had offered him before. "Drink it," he said. "You've gotten yourself into another mess. Might as well celebrate."

"Dreyk!" Zen said, reaching across the table and slapping him.

"What?" Dreyk said. "He always does this. He should just rejoin the arena without any stupid bets!"

Taehyung felt his heart clench. Dreyk was right. He should have just stayed away. He was too weak to handle the arena.

He was too weak to defeat Yoongi.