Chess: The Assassin's Move

Day 13.

To say it was concerning would be the same as saying the hellfire was a pit of dancing flames for toasting marshmallows. Heck, Jimin was daggered right before Laira's eyes, and in that millisecond where she thought she would lose her mind, she realized that Jimin should know what he was doing.

After all, he got Hoseok to spill the psychedelic secrets he was hiding from him, but in truth, Jimin didn't seem like he had anticipated the monochrome words that left Hoseok's lips, or for that matter, the dagger that was shoved into his body.

Laira could only catch phantoms of emotions caressing Jimin's face before, but in that moment, it was like he had seen a ghost. His lips had opened to gasp for air as if his lungs had grown a second pair. His face had paled way before the blood was gushing out of his wound, and his eyes saw fear.

Just as fast as fear had surrounded him, the tsunami of pain washed it away. His face had scrunched in hurt, so much hurt that Laira didn't think anyone could bear.

She could only stand there and pick at the strings of the secret being unraveled before her. From that point, she made it her top priority to untangle the mess.

Jimin was in the next room, status post 15 stitches to his dagger wound. In the initial days, he didn't have any fight in him to argue or try to escape the training center. He slept and slept, allowing the healing to play its role. Laira was given her old room again, and ironically, the first thing she found in there was the bag of gown Taehyung had gifted her on Grace's night.

She ignored it as she ignored the crippling guilt whenever she saw Jungkook and the maddening urge to seek out answers from Jimin. It wasn't healthy, what she was doing. She knew that, but putting it off was a lot easier.

Jungkook and Taehyung wouldn't just forgive her, and about Jimin, well, Laira needed to be rational in these trying times. If she sat down to dig the graves today, she would be fighting ghosts for the foreseeable future.

Right, I know exactly what to do.

What Laira should've remembered was that knowing and doing were two entirely different concepts.

And way before she could take her first step, it all went downhill.

It was the thirteenth day of their stay in the Taiyo clan's training center, and Laira woke up with an unsettling feeling in her abdomen. It could've been her menstrual period, but she wasn't that lucky. It was a feeling of an upcoming catastrophe.

She was smart, however, so the first place she went was Jimin's room, and she found him already up on his feet. His white t-shirt was barely doing anything to hide the gauze dressing on his waist, but the way he walked didn't suggest any pain.

"Are you going somewhere?" asked Laira, already dreading the answer she was going to receive. Taehyung and Jungkook had been nice to them so far, a lot nicer than what could be expected from enemies, but she doubted they would appreciate Jimin trying to break free without their knowledge.

"We are going somewhere," corrected Jimin. This was exactly what Laira wanted to hear from him that night, before he got stabbed, but now the situation was different. Now Jung Hoseok was in his peak beast mode. He left the center a day after he so skillfully landed a blade into his alleged childhood best friend, with strict orders for JK and V to keep the two prisoners under tight surveillance.

If Jimin left now, Hoseok would find more ways to punish him. And one of those ways could easily involve Chloe in them. No, not today. Either Laira escaped alone, or both of them stayed here.

"I don't wish to be a part of the 'we' you just mentioned," said Laira, standing by the door, blocking the exit. Jimin gave her a look before he began to put on his boots. His hair was wet as if he just showered, and Laira wanted to remind, more like scold, about the doctor's advice against exposing his wound to the water, but that wasn't her place.