Chapter 16

I.N's POV:

Utter bullshit. Everything is just utter bullshit. While I'm here, waiting and training, eagerly anticipating Seungmin's letter, they're all out there, becoming best buddies, relaxing, and laughing. How futile. Do they even care about the plan or Seungmin's whereabouts?

In the midst of it all, that assassin and Changbin resolved all their issues. Then what was the damn point of all those years of fighting?

I sit in my room, peering out through the crack of my door, utterly irritated by the scene. What's the point of getting along and having fun? We're all here for one purpose and one purpose only: to protect that stupid girl. What is so special about her that Seungmin gathered all of us for this one bothersome task? And that girl doesn't even know Seungmin. She's completely clueless. She doesn't even realize how fucking lucky she is to have encountered someone like him. Her life is protected because of him, but all she knows about him is his name. The thought makes me so damn angry.

No one is taking this seriously. At first, I worried that the fight between that assassin and Changbin would end horribly because it might have ruined everything, but then Minho stepped in to stop it. I didn't care much after that. But now that guy and Changbin are supposedly the best of cousins after one night? Bullshit. They're forgetting the main focus of why we're all here in the first place. They might...they might even forget all about Seungmin.

I owe him a lot. He's the only one I really care about. Feelings and emotions are useless. But somehow, seeing Seungmin smile...always made me smile as well. It's humiliating, but I've learned to live with it because it was him after all.

Seungmin...

I focus my eyes on the window of the room as I settle on the bed, reminiscing about the time I first encountered Seungmin.

...

I.N's Flashback.

I didn't have a home for as long as I could remember. Survival was my only instinct. School was a distant dream. My first kill remains a vivid memory, etched into my mind from the age of nine. It happened on a day when I had scraped together just enough coins to purchase a single slice of bread. After days of hunger, that bread represented more than just sustenance—it was hope. But as I walked down the street, preparing to finally savor my meager meal, a man snatched it from my grasp and fled. At first, I felt sadness, but then something ignited within me. It was rage I never felt before. With nothing left to lose and that stolen bread my only lifeline, I chased him down the street, navigating through the crowd. He didn't even realize I was chasing him until he reached a dead end. With a smirk, he laughed to himself in the corner before turning around—only to find me standing right behind him. His initial shock at my speed quickly gave way to a knowing smirk.

"Look, kid," he said, pulling a knife from his back pocket. "There's no point in chasing me."

Another grin formed on his lips as he slowly took a bite of the bread—the only food I could have had. I don't know what happened to me, but I instantly lunged to tackle the man, the bread thrown into the air as our struggle ensued. Caught off guard, he didn't see it coming.

"You've messed with the wrong-" he began, only to realize his knife wasn't in his hand anymore. I glanced to the side and spotted it just out of my reach. I don't remember my thought process but I do remember that I immediately lunged for it and plunged it into his chest repeatedly, exactly four hundred and fifty two times, the metallic clang of the blade echoing in the air. Blood splattered in all directions, painting my face, clothes and hands with crimson. As the mans lifeless body slumped to the ground, I felt nothing at all.

That was when I realized, no matter how respectful and kind someone may be, humans are the worst creatures of all. I stole bread that day instead of gathering coins again to pay, and that knife—I took it with me and kept it ever since. It's the only blade I trust; it's never failed me. A symbol of my first kill.

I only fought in places away from prying eyes since that day, indulging in my desires without facing the consequences.

I met Seungmin when I was around thirteen. By then, I had already transformed into this psychotic being, devoid of remorse. I recall encountering Seungmin a few times when I made an alliance with Changbin and his crew. Changbin needed assistance dealing with some enemies, and he wasn't keen on the idea of killing, so he approached me. It was more of a threat, really. He'd seen me take the life of a civilian and recorded it, using it as leverage. He told me he'd inform the police unless I did something for him, but truthfully, I would've done it regardless. I reveled in taking lives. Though looking back now, it was merely an empty threat. Changbin was never going to turn me in. It was the only choice he had at the time.

Every time I met with Changbin for business, there he was—Seungmin. He always stood silently in the background, never saying much. I suppose it was understandable; the whole gang went quiet whenever I was around, so he was no exception.

Until one day.

I had misplaced my knife after another act of violence. It was a dire situation because without that knife, I felt utterly powerless. It was also around the same time I started experiencing panic attacks. I couldn't afford to have one in the middle of the street. After hours of searching proved fruitless, I resigned myself to the fact that it was lost. I was heading back to the garage Changbin provided for me, hoping to reach safety before an impending panic attack struck. Late at night, in a desolate neighborhood, someone emerged from around a corner. "Looking for this?"

It was Seungmin.

He had seemingly appeared out of nowhere, I was startled by his sudden presence. He held up a knife, and I narrowed my eyes, studying him with suspicion. "Where did you find that?" My voice was cold and menacing, but he remained unfazed.

"I found it behind an alley," he replied casually, yet there was a hint of something knowing in his tone.

My eyes widened slightly, but I maintained my facade of toughness. Did he witness the murder in that alley? He knew of my reputation as a psychotic killer through Changbin, but there was no tangible evidence on his part. Had he witnessed the entire ordeal?

I didn't give myself time to think. "Give me that." I snapped, snatching the knife and striding past him with a scoff. I reached the end of the road before he shouted, "Do you enjoy what you're doing?"

What kind of stupid question was that? It annoyed me to no end. I knew exactly what he was getting at. I turned around, glaring at him from a distance. "Mind your own business."

Why was he suddenly so nosy? Was he going to rat me out? Had I underestimated him?

"Just tell me." he persisted, walking closer. "Do you really enjoy it?"

As he stepped into the light cast by the lamppost, I noticed the warm smile on his face. What was he smiling about?

"Yes." I responded coldly. "Happy now?"

A small chuckle escaped his lips, only fueling my anger. What was this man so happy about?

When I took an irritated step forward, a stinging sensation pierced my heart. It was happening—I was about to have one of those panic attacks. Why did it have to be now of all times? I thought to myself. If I collapsed now, this man would know my weakness.

"You—" I tried to speak, but my breath caught in my throat. I was sweating, clutching at my shirt, struggling to draw in some air.

"Are you okay?" Seungmin's voice cut through my crisis, his expression filled with concern at the sight of my distress.

"Leave...me...alo...ne." I managed to force out as I fell to my knees, my palms slamming onto the hard ground. I tried to breathe, but it felt like my chest was constricted, suffocating me. I never knew what triggered my panic attacks, but I assumed it was genetic, considering I never knew my parents as I was abandoned in an abusive foster home as a baby. I managed to escape when I was eight. These panic attacks ruined everything, and they always seemed to strike out of nowhere.

"Is it..." Seungmin lowered himself in front of me, his voice gentle. "A panic attack?"

I tried to ignore his presence as I struggled to breathe. My chest tightened, and I felt like I was on the verge of fainting. "I said... get... away from me." I managed to rasp out. This man was beyond annoying. Why was he still here, especially in my most vulnerable state? Even Changbin wasn't aware of these panic attacks. I was intent on maintaining a certain image of myself—I wanted people to fear me—so I made sure these attacks never occurred in public.

"Here. Look at me." Seungmin insisted, grabbing hold of me and guiding me into a more comfortable position. "Breathe."

His approach seemed to help. I stared into his eyes filled with warmth and sympathy. It was weird but he appeared to know what he was doing. Gradually, my breathing began to ease, and before I knew it, I felt normal again. How... how did he do that?

But as soon as the tightness in my chest subsided, I noticed his gentle smile once more. Instantly, I pushed myself up and regained my stern tone. "Don't tell anyone about this."

With that, I walked away. I desperately hoped he would keep my panic attack to himself. That revelation would shatter the image I'd worked so hard to maintain. What kind of psychotic killer suffers a panic attack in the midst of it all?

I prayed I would never have to face Seungmin again, despite his connection to Changbin. I felt ashamed, but more than that, I simply couldn't bear the thought of him knowing my secret.

But my wish didn't come true. He seemed to be everywhere I turned.

"Hey! You wanna go to the movies today? I'll pay!" he said one day.

"Hey! I have an extra ticket to the aquarium. Want to go with me?" he suggested another day.

"Hey! Wanna come to my house? I just got a new video game set! It's two-player!" he proposed the next day.

I just rolled my eyes and walked away every single time. What was he hoping to accomplish by inviting me to things? I knew for a fact that this man had plenty of friends... so why not just let me be? I didn't need to hang out with anyone. Everything I did was solely for my survival. Seungmin was too nosy, but a part of me was scared that he'd mention my panic attacks to someone.

A little while after, I hadn't seen Seungmin in four days, which was odd, but why did I care? It's not like I enjoyed the annoyance and irritation that guy brought me. It's not like I liked anything about him; he was just a nuisance—a dog that won't stop barking.

I remember what happened on this specific day so vividly. I was in the midst of ending someone's life—quite a cocky fellow he was. I relished the thought of slicing his throat. Retrieving my knife from behind my back pocket, I locked eyes with the man, but then it happened. My smirk vanished. Oh, fuck no. Not now. Fuck. I cursed internally. I was hit with a panic attack right in the center of the chaos. The man noticed my hesitation and seized the opportunity, lunging towards me and knocking me to the ground. I couldn't process anything. Caught in the grip of a full-blown panic attack, I found myself on the receiving end of blows from the man I was supposed to kill. I shut my eyes, feeling the warmth of blood seeping from my wounds. This had never happened before. I thought I was going to die... I wasn't ready... I'd never failed before... so...

"HEY, YOU THERE!"

A voice shouted from the opposite direction. This was a private alleyway... who could possibly find us here?

"GET AWAY FROM HIM!" the voice commanded again.

The man ceased his assault, and it took all my strength to turn and see what was happening. My vision was blurry, barely able to focus, but I saw enough. Seungmin.

He hadn't crossed my path in four days, so why...why was he here now? Did he follow me?

I don't recall much from when Seungmin intervened because I was half-conscious. All I remember is trying to reach out to him as he absorbed the blows meant for me. He shielded me from further harm, his body drenched in blood. I strained to extend my arm, but it was futile. I feared he might not survive... and it would be all my fault. Why did he come here?? What was the reason?

Just then, the distant wail of a police siren pierced the air. The assailant abruptly halted his attack on Seungmin and fled, only to be swiftly apprehended. Summoning the last reserves of my strength, I crawled to Seungmin's side. Peering down at him, his once-familiar features obscured by blood, I felt tears welling in my eyes for the first time ever in my life that day.

Seungmin recovered quicker than I anticipated. I visited him in the hospital during those three days, consumed by guilt. Yet, he never once stopped smiling in front of me. He never regarded me as a bad person.

When the police questioned him, he feigned ignorance. Not once did he mention my dark secrets. I lived in fear that he might reveal everything about my twisted ways...but he remained steadfast. I always thought he'd say something...anything about me. I was so scared for that reason but I was astonished to see the police not interrogating me after speaking with Seungmin.

That day became a pivotal moment in my life, but Seungmin never breathed a word about it. He kept our shared secret close, never divulging the truth to his friends. He had created a fake story that he was sick for the three days he was actually in the hospital. He simply went about his life as if nothing had happened. It was our secret.

Seungmin is the only person who knows about my panic attacks. I confide in him in a way I can never do with anyone else. He's the only one who can evoke emotions within me.

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