3000 Stars

Sparring

Jungkook met him at the new fight club instead of the old one, casting a critical eye over Taehyung's hack before pulling him into an awkward side hug and dragging him inside. Taehyung wondered if he'd heard of his collapse but decided not to ask. He was still steaming from his talk with his parents and the added anger of switching his fight schedules reverberated inside him, reminding him of all he had to lose if he was exposed for a second time. Yoongi wouldn't be able to keep it quiet. His parents would hear. They might actually contact the FaceUpp administrators and get him banned from the fights.

He should have seen it coming. But he needed the arena so badly. He needed to be here, energy blazing around his hands, fighting with Jungkook like his life depended on it. Without the fighting, how would he survive?

Jungkook had improved. He ducked and rolled around Taehyung, getting a few hard hits in every now and then. Taehyung was sure his sides would bruise the next morning, but he didn't care. He rolled over, avoiding one of Jungkook's attacks, and whipped his legs into the air, kicking Jungkook in the gut before rolling to his feet. Energy formed around his hand, adding power and force to another strike, and parts of the arena blew out-- a mistake Taehyung knew would cost him a heart.

He didn't care. Jungkook wasn't even in the top 1000. It wouldn't matter if he won. Taehyung just needed to blow off steam.

Jungkook tackled him, and Taehyung twisted so Jungkook was beneath him, counting the fall for his score instead. The chimes played, and Jungkook groaned, laughing and shaking his head.

"One more round?" he asked.

Taehyung shrugged, standing and helping him to his feet. "It doesn't matter to me," he said.

Jungkook grinned, but it was clear he was tired. He wasn't working off of anger. "Nah, never mind," he said. "I'll see you some other time. Sooner or later I'll win!"

"Yeah," Taehyung said. "Sooner or later."

Probably after Yoongi beat him.

Taehyung shook the thought out of his mind and sat down to watch the patching robots skim across the arena floor, fixing it. The charge would go to his account-- whatever meager amounts he was earning with his low status would be drained to pay for the floor repairs. He was lucky he was in the top 1000 and could earn anything at all. He had to make sure he could maintain his spot.

But as he sat there, watching the sphere-shaped machines roll back and forth, the rest of the anger drained out of him and he sighed, putting his face in his hands and shaking his head. Who was he kidding? He would be lucky if he could stay in the arena now that his parents were sending him to therapy again. How long would he have that spot? Yoongi had the time and energy to be winning, but everything was pulling Taehyung back. It was beyond frustrating.

He simply no longer had the energy to deal with it.

He was about to turn off his hack when he heard a shuffling behind him and turned in time to see Yoongi coming down the stairs. His heartbeat picked up at the thought of the close call, and he shoved his phone in his pocket, taking a deep breath and standing up. He would have to wear his hack on the way home. Not that it made much difference, since it was a special projection over his skin, but sometimes he got tired of hiding his face in public.

Like now. When he wanted to ask Yoongi why he was such a nice person.

Yoongi paused in front of him, brow wrinkling. "You're out late again," he said. His tone was almost cautious, like he wasn't sure what to say. Taehyung wondered if Zen and Dreyk had told him anything.

"Yeah," Taehyung said. "I'm on my way out, though. Unless you're up for a fight...?"

Yoongi laughed, shaking his head. "Thanks for the offer, but I came to get some quiet before my matches tomorrow."

Taehyung nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets and looking over the arena. He didn't really want to leave. He didn't like the idea that he might not be able to come again the next day, or that he would have to be more careful about sneaking out in the future. But it was reality. He would have to deal with it.

"Did you know a fighter named V, by any chance?" Yoongi asked.

Caught off guard, Taehyung nodded without thinking, rubbing the back of his neck. "Why?" he asked.

"It's not a common username, is it?"

"What are you-- oh. That's right, they did let you duplicate names before," Taehyung said, laughing to himself. "That was an insane period. No, it wasn't very common."

"Was he a good fighter?"

"I never fought him," Taehyung said.

"But you knew him," Yoongi said.

Taehyung laughed, shaking his head. "V was kind of standoffish. The only people he really connected with were Zen, Dreyk, and..." his voice faltered at Seokjin's name, and he took a deep breath, shaking himself. He still wasn't ready to say it. "He focused more on fighting in tournaments, and I wasn't interested in those at the time, so we never sparred together."

"Oh," Yoongi said, shoulders slumping. "Okay."

Taehyung opened his mouth, about to ask why Yoongi wanted to know in the first place, then shut it, taking a deep breath. He didn't want to discuss his alter ego. It was hard to pretend it wasn't him when he was inhabiting it. It was even harder to pretend it wasn't him when he was talking about it.

It felt so strange.

Taehyung watched Yoongi wander away, across the arena to a set of benches on the other side for watching fight club participants. He wondered if he should follow, ask Yoongi if he was okay. But Yoongi didn't look like Seokjin had on his bad days, and besides, he had been able to form full sentences.

Taehyung was just being overprotective. He needed to stay away, or it would cause more trouble in the future.

So he walked out the door, closing it carefully behind him, and ran to the train station.