The Unbelievable Crime┆✓

Chapter 55: Useful Works

"Shit."

Y/N punctuated each word with a punch.

"Why."

"Does."

"It."

"Have."

"To."

"Be."

"Now."

Y/N stood in front of the punching bag, her chest heaving.

Her arms burned from the number of punches she had been doing, but it still couldn't calm her down.

"AHHHHHHHHHHH!" Y/N screamed, throwing a punch so hard the bag flew around violently, almost hitting her back in the face.

She slid down to the floor, chest heaving, hair sticking to her neck, and her tank top soaked completely in sweat.

She knew she needed a nice hot shower but her body was tired beyond measure.

Jimin was set to leave tomorrow, he needed to prepare his stuff before he could head out on his hunt for evidence.

Y/N knew it was important but she also knew it was dangerous.

She had already lost one brother, she couldn't lose Jimin.

"Youngsoo...I hate you..." Y/N whispered, her voice giving up.

Lying on the floor, Y/N stared at the ceiling, her eyes drooping. She could see the holes in the ceiling where the second punching bag was attached, but now it was removed.

As she stared at the hole, something else came into her vision.

"The fuck are you doing here?" Y/N stood up quickly to face Namjoon who had been towering over her. "When did you get in?"

"When you were having a punching contest with literally no one." Namjoon shrugged in reply.

Y/N raised an eyebrow at him, to which he smiled goofily.

"Why the fuck are you laughing now?" Y/N asked, irritated. She had forgotten this was the time when Namjoon usually came to the training room.

Namjoon frowned.

"I was smiling. Laughing and smiling are two different actions."

"Cool. Now shut up." Y/N said as she took her water bottle and drowned it all in one go. Namjoon wordlessly handed her a towel.

"Why were you so angry?" Namjoon asked quietly.

"Why do you care?" Y/N glanced at Namjoon, who had his eyes on the floor. Confused, Y/N looked at herself to see she still had her tank top, which was slowly on the way to becoming see-through.

Looking up she saw Namjoon was already red as a tomato.

"Oh god," Y/N rolled her eyes, took a random shirt, and threw it on.

"You can look up. Jesus, when will you grow up?" Y/N shook her head, the corners of her lips turning upward, slightly.

"I am 22?" Namjoon asked, confused.

Y/N sighed.

"You knew I was here. Why did you get in then?" Y/N asked him.

"It is my usual training time?" Namjoon answered, sounding more like he was convincing himself.

Y/N shook her head, sitting on the floor again. Namjoon did the same.

They both sat in comfortable silence until Y/N decided to break it.

"It must be nice, not having to deal with the mafia bullshit anymore. How was university life?" Y/N asked, turning slightly to face Namjoon.

"It was...good. But still not exactly peaceful." Namjoon said, fidgeting with the towel in his hand.

"Why?"

"We were always running. Always scared that one day my father will come to take us back into the mafia. I didn't have any friends, so it was always lonely. And even though I love studying, it still got hectic sometimes." Namjoon shrugged.

"Why didn't you make friends then? Or are you the human embodiment of shyness again?" Y/N asked.

"I was shy," Namjoon admitted. "But most of all, I was scared. What if the friend turned out to be a spy sent by my family? They could easily track me down. Besides, we moved around so much it would be difficult to keep a friendship."

Y/N nodded. "Makes sense."

They both were quiet again.

"Why did you choose this life?" Namjoon asked again, turning to look at Y/N.

This time he actually saw her. He could almost place similarities between when the first time he saw her and now. She definitely wasn't scared and terrified, but she was still scared. Of what, he didn't know, but it surely must be something big that even Y/N is afraid of.

"Me? I was born into it. Not much of a choice." Y/N shrugged, looking into the distance. "I was always fascinated by the mafia. It made you strong. Strong enough to protect your family and yourself."

Y/N looked down, suddenly too small. "Even though I couldn't save my family, I'm still trying, and Appa always said trying is much much better than giving up."

Y/N blinked, amused that she mentioned her father without any provocation, and also scared she might have said too much.

Shaking her head, Y/N changed the topic. "Why didn't you choose this life? Mafias are wonderful!"

Namjoon shook his head. "I would have. But I couldn't bear to hurt my Eomma anymore."

"Huh?" Y/N asked, tilting her head to the side looking at Namjoon.

"My mother would always cry whenever she saw us coming from the training room. We would be blue and purple all over, with bruises on our bodies, and sometimes we even bled. Eomma would put ointments on us and then ask Appa to stop it all." Namjoon sighed.

"That sucks," Y/N shook her head.

"Didn't your mother get concerned over your training? Surely you must have been injured too?" Namjoon asked curiously.

Y/N laughed.

"She could never. She was my first trainer, silly."

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