BLOOD MONEY || bts mafia au

twenty five.

The older of the two boys positioned behind the abandoned chair's eyes widened as he saw the demonstration before him and moved to start forward as if to stop it, but the taller boy at his side held him back with a single look.

"WHO AM I?!" the black-haired boy shouted again, looking around at the mass of soldiers gathered before him.

This time the answer rolled back to him in squeaked ripples.

"Min Yoongi."

This brought a smile to the boy's lips.

Ever since Jimin had aimed his gun at his chest, Yoongi had been slowly losing the grip he had left on his emotions, as if the encounter had shaken something free within him.

All that shooting the leader of that insignificant gang managed to do was create an easy opening for the gang steadily working its way across town, conquering every other one in its path, drawing forth the temper he worked so hard to twist to his advantage. And as if that wasn't enough, now he had soldiers questioning his leadership, clients demanding more that he didn't have the time or energy to give.

He had spent years making a name for himself, creating this gang up out of the ground, and for what? To be challenged by a gang he had barely heard of? To be shoved aside the second he had finally achieved the one thing he had been dreaming about for almost as long as he could remember?

No.

Min Yoongi wasn't going down so easily.

He couldn't.

He'd sold his soul to this. Had killed the remains of the boy he'd once been for this power, this reputation. It was all he had left.

He had to make it all worth something.

There was no other option.

Finally, Jin shook himself free of Namjoon's grasp, starting towards the boss hurriedly. He couldn't bear to watch this any longer, sitting silently by while he watched Yoongi destroy himself, throwing himself at every obstacle in his path with nothing but the promise of vengeance holding him on his feet.

He could feel the guilt eating at him every time he forced himself to gaze upon the younger. Every time he noticed how sunken his cheeks had become, how dark the bruises beneath his eyes hung. In the few times the other boy had actually slept, Jin had thought he'd heard muffled screams bouncing off the walls of the enclosed room, followed closely by the unmistakable sound of things crashing and shattering.

Had he really been so blind to what his boss was going through while he was busy fussing over Namjoon? Busy being obsessed with possibilities that he knew surrounded every hour of every waking day? How could he not have noticed how much Yoongi was breaking until it had become so bad?

He wouldn't sit idly anymore.

Gently, Jin rested a hand on the black-haired boy's shoulder, trying to draw him back to himself. "Yoongi, why don't you just go to your room and lay down, yeah? You must be exhausted-"

Yoongi recoiled immediately beneath his touch, twisting to let out a low noise of irritation as he backed away from the older boy. Up close, Jin could see the true weight of the stress he was under, visible in every bruise, every unnaturally sharp angle of his face. "Don't touch me," he hissed.

By now, Namjoon had crossed the room to Yoongi's other side, pinning the unstable boss between them as they did their best to calm him down.

The soldiers remaining in the room exchanged apprehensive looks as they watched the two boys carefully.