"To the girl who was marked to die-
And the version of himself that did."
Y/N didn't ask for this.
It was supposed to be a girls' trip. A few days of laughter, beaches, and blurry memories.
But somewhere between the airport terminal and the baggage...
Beside her, Taehyung was already on his feet, gun in hand, hair messy from sleep, jaw tight.
No words.
Just action.
He reached for the go bag—stuffed it with ammo, hard drives, the encrypted phone. Grabbed the suitcase last, strapping it to his shoulder like a shield.
“Let’s go,” he said.
Y/N blinked the sleep from her eyes and grabbed her boots.
The floor was cold. Her hands were shaking.
But this time—she didn’t ask questions.
She followed.
---
The steel door opened with a hiss.
Taehyung peered out into the dark corridor beyond, gun raised, body angled in front of her. Every movement was sharp. Precise.
He was no longer the man from the cot.
He was the ghost again.
The weapon.
Y/N’s pulse raced as she followed his footsteps—each one echoing down the tunnel toward the emergency exit.
“Where’s the car?” she asked, breath catching.
“We go on foot for now.”
“Through the woods?”
He nodded. “They expect vehicles. Not silence.”
---
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The air outside was colder than before—biting and dry.
Pines loomed like shadows. Fog coiled around their feet as they ran, Taehyung keeping a tight grip on her wrist to keep her close.
Y/N’s heart was pounding so hard she thought she might collapse.
