Chapter 17

Minho's disbelieving tone filled the room. "What the hell happened while I was in the office?" he demanded, his eyes wide at the unexpected sight of Chris and Changbin peacefully seated side by side, devoid of their usual arguments. Chris lounged comfortably, engrossed in his phone, while Changbin quietly supported his friend's legs. The air hung heavy with silence, a stark departure from their usual dynamic.

Han's hand landed firmly on Minho's shoulder as he spoke. "You missed a lot."

Hyunjin's demeanor shifted, his expression clouded with distress. "Now that they're best buddies... Changbin is dumping all these tasks on me and Han that should have been his responsibility!" He punctuated his complaint with exaggerated fake tears, adding, "This is a disaster!"

Minho couldn't help but find amusement in the situation. "Good." he responded, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips. "You guys got too comfortable relying on Changbin to do almost everything."

Hyunjin scowled in response. "That's because he never trusts anyone else to get things done right!"

Minho chuckled, clearly entertained by the exchange.

Despite Hyunjin's position as captain and Han's role as an underboss, it seemed that Changbin had shouldered the bulk of the workload. Perhaps he needed a constant distraction, or maybe he simply believed things would only be done correctly if he handled them himself. However, with Changbin now fostering a stronger relationship with Chris, Han and Hyunjin would undoubtedly be shouldering more responsibility. It seemed that Changbin had finally found a sense of peace, his once frenetic energy now replaced with a rare calmness.

"Quit complaining." Changbin's voice rang out from the couch, annoyance lacing his words. "At least you're useful for something now."

Chris chuckled, leaning upward to catch Changbin's eyes. "Did you watch the video I just sent you?"

Changbin laughed, glancing at his phone. "Yeah, it was hilarious. I've got another one to show you that's just as relatable!"

It was a sight I had nearly lost hope of witnessing—a rare moment of brotherhood between them. It seemed as if their animosity had evaporated into thin air, leaving behind two individuals completely at ease with each other. It felt like the natural order had been created as I observed them.

"Ain't that just a rare sight to see?" Minho smirked, his gaze shifting to me as if he could read my thoughts. Stepping in front of me with his arms crossed, he continued. "I don't know what you did...but I'm convinced you used some sort of black magic."

I recoiled in shock, my eyes widening. "B-black magic?!" I stammered. "I...I never!"

Minho chuckled at my reaction, placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "Relax, I'm just teasing you. But seriously, you've worked some kind of miracle here."

I wasn't sure what he meant by that. The bond between Chris and Changbin was their own doing—it wouldn't have mended if they hadn't both made the effort to let go of their animosity. This fate was all up to them. "I didn't..." I began, trailing off uncertainly.

"Don't be so modest." Felix chimed in, joining us with a smile. "Notice how they only managed to fix their relationship because you're here now?" Han added.

A warm feeling bloomed inside me at their praise, tinged with a hint of bashfulness. Though, this was not something I could just easily take credit for.

"I was getting tired of pretending to hate Chris." Hyunjin admitted, slouching down on the singular couch. "It felt like a full-time job." Chris and Changbin seemed oblivious to the conversation, lost in their own world.

"For real." Han agreed, glancing at them before returning his attention to us. "But we had to do it for Changbin's sake."

"You guys really surprise me." Felix remarked, shaking his head in disbelief. "Who would have thought?"

It was indeed surprising to hear Han and Hyunjin speak without hostility towards Chris. They had only maintained their distance to remain loyal to Changbin, who had secretly yearned for a genuine cousinly bond with Chris. While it was saddening to think of Chris's traumatic & lonely childhood, it was heartening to see him finally finding acceptance and support as things began to change.

"As a public figure..." Minho began, casting a knowing glance around the room. "I don't play favorites. You guys are weird for that."

"Don't pretend like you weren't closer to Changbin too!" Hyunjin retorted with a scowl from the couch. "Yeah, and don't act like you didn't benefit from knowing him!" Han added, rolling his eyes.

"Using him for his gangster status and then leaving him in the dust..." Hyunjin said with a playful shake of his head, feigning betrayal.

"You guys-" Minho opened his mouth to respond, but before he could finish, Changbin's voice echoed from the couch once more. "Hey! You guys gotta see this funny video!" Instantly, everyone's attention shifted to Changbin, gathering around his phone to watch the amusing video.

As the room filled with laughter and warmth, I took the opportunity to slip away quietly. Stepping toward the back door, I craved the fresh air of the backyard. Upon reaching the patio, I noticed I.N in the distance, diligently training with his knife. He seemed completely engrossed as he's most likely been there for hours, perfecting his techniques. His determination palpable, he embodies an intense dedication that borders an obession.

Despite the evident sweat glistening on his brow, he showed no signs of slowing down, consumed by his practice. He completely ignores how exhausted he must be. Returning to the kitchen, I grabbed a water bottle and glanced back at the lively group still gathered around Changbin's phone, a small smile tugging at my lips as I savored the comforting atmosphere. Yet, my attention soon drifted back to I.N outside. Approaching him, I offered the water bottle with a simple, "Here."

He showed no signs of stopping, his movements relentless as he swung the knife through the air. Panting heavily and drenched in sweat, he seemed entirely consumed by his training. "Go away, stupid girl." he grunted between breaths, his focus unyielding.

He appears utterly exhausted, his breaths ragged and labored, his focus fixed ahead, oblivious to my presence. It's evident he's pushing himself to the limit, and if he doesn't drink some water soon, he risks collapsing from fatigue.

Concern etched across my features. Pesturing further, I hold out the bottle of water in front of him. "You need to take a break." I insisted, urging him to hydrate before he faints from exhaustion. Finally, he relented, his gaze slowly shifting to meet mine, burning with intensity. "I said go away." he snapped, his tone sharp with irritation.

Despite the frightening fiery glare he directed my way, I persisted, continuing to offer him the water. He seemed to ignore it, intent on his training without interruption. "Take the water, and then I'll leave." I urged gently, unwilling to abandon him in his time of need.

It puzzled me why he felt the need to push himself so hard when he already seemed proficient in his skills. Yet, he remained steadfast in his determination, refusing to acknowledge his own physical limitations. With a deep breath, he returned his focus to the task at hand, dismissing my presence entirely. "I don't need water." he declared resolutely, resuming his rigorous practice as if nothing had happened.

He resumed his practice with unwavering willpower, seemingly unaffected by my existence or his own physical strain. It felt unsettling to witness him pushing himself so relentlessly, especially under the scorching hot sun. How could he willingly endure such intense training without pausing for water? There's something unsettling about seeing him like this. I can't quite put my finger on it, but it just doesn't sit right with me. I refuse to walk away until he agrees to take this water, considering the intense heat we're enduring.

"You clearly do need water." I asserted, my tone firm yet tinged with concern, still holding out the bottle in hopes of convincing him to hydrate. It's just water, a simple and essential resource. Why refuse it?

"I told you to leave me alone, stupid girl." he retorted sternly, his focus fixed solely on his knife swings.

"No, you said go away." I countered, my frustration mounting as I tried to outsmart him into accepting the water. "You never specified that you wanted to be left alone."

Despite my efforts, he remained unmoved, showing no intention of relenting. It baffled me how he could disregard his own well-being in favor of his relentless training regimen. Didn't he realize the risks he was taking under such extreme conditions? He's visibly drenched in sweat, and his breaths are becoming increasingly labored.

Growing increasingly impatient with his stubbornness, I shook the water bottle in front of him, urging him to take it. "Just drink it! What's the harm?" I pleaded. "Come on! Take it!...my arms getting tired..."

I adopted a casual tone, hoping to appeal to his irritation and coax him into finally accepting the water, but to no avail. His body betrayed signs of exhaustion, evident in the irregularity of his breaths and the sweat beading on his forehead. Yet, he persisted, seemingly oblivious to the potential dangers of his actions. If he continued to ignore the warning signs, he risked collapsing from heat exhaustion or worse.

"Here... you'll faint." I urged, continuing to shake the water bottle in front of his face, blocking his vision as I still have hope to persuade him to hydrate. "Just take-" Before I could even finish my sentence, he forcefully swatted the bottle out of my hand with a strong grip. "I told you I don't need fucking water!" he snapped, his tone sharp and dismissive.

I gasped in shock as the bottle flew from my grasp, landing on the ground with a thud. His sudden action left me trembling, taking a step back to regain my composure.

He panted heavily, his chest rising and falling with each breath. "Now get the fuck away from me." he commanded, his voice strained with frustration.

Fear pulsed through me as I glanced at the ripped bottle, water leaking onto the grass. It was clear that I.N's strength surpassed my expectations, leaving me unsettled and apprehensive.

As I look back at him, his knife suddenly slips from his grasp, tumbling to the grass. My eyes dart to the fallen weapon before returning to him, only to find him frozen in place, his hand instinctively clutching his chest. A sudden shift in his demeanor sends a jolt of concern through me, causing my eyes to widen in alarm. "What's...what's going on?!" I shout out, my voice tinged with worry and confusion.

He collapses to his knees, his palms pressing against the grass as he stares downward, his breaths coming in shallow gasps. "Oh fuck...not now...fuck." he mutters under his breath, his voice strained and barely audible. Reacting quickly, I drop to my knees beside him, desperate to understand the cause of his distress, I try to meet him face to face. "What's happening?!" I repeat, my confusion mounting. Something about his condition feels different, and I fear it may not be a simple case of a heatstroke.

"I told you...to leave me alone..." he growled, his words struggling to speak under one breath that's barely there.

I can't simply abandon him in this state. What should I do?! His face is flushed with exertion as he struggles to catch his breath. Do I tell someone?! Should I seek help?! I believe I must inform someone about his condition.

As I'm about to depart to inform the others about this, I.N suddenly seizes my wrist with the last ounce of strength he possesses. I turn back to him, met with a chilling glare and his fingers digging into my arm. He struggles to draw a deep breath, his bloodshot eyes betraying his distress.

Pressing a hand against his chest, he clenches his shirt tightly, his gaze flickering downward before locking onto mine once more with an unsettling intensity. His breathing gradually steadies, allowing him to speak, but the tension in the air remains palpable. It's evident that his ordeal is far from over.

"If you tell anyone about this...I will fucking kill you myself."

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