Stigma Love's Algorithm [ A BTS x Reader Poly ]

Chapter 127: Uninvited and Unwelcome

The pantry is dim and vaguely chaotic.

There's a bag of expired chips no one's thrown out yet and an unopened box of cereal someone bought in a fit of grocery store nostalgia.

And crouched on the second shelf-Wacha.

Licking something sticky off the snack ledge like she just discovered a new religion.

She stares at us, unbothered, then flicks her tail and resumes her sacrilegious feast.

Yoongi doesn't even blink at her.

He just reaches around me, gently pulls the pantry door shut behind us, and exhales like he's been waiting to do that all night.

There's barely enough room to stand side by side, but he doesn't seem to care.

His body is close, steady. His hands slide into the pockets of his hoodie like he's physically containing something.

"It's too clean," he says finally. His voice is low. Not whispering, but close to it.

"The breach. The code. It was never about access. It was about choreography."

I blink at him. "Choreography?"

He nods.

"Like they wanted us to see parts of it. But only the parts they picked."

Wacha lets out a tiny sneeze and curls into a crinkle of old parchment paper.

Yoongi ignores her.

"They're playing us," he continues.

"They're setting a stage. Giving us just enough to chase-like bread crumbs across the wrong map."

I feel my breath catch.

"Yoongi... you think it's going to continue?"

He finally meets my eyes.
And what I see in them-it's not panic.
It's conviction.

"No," he says.

"I think it's only the beginning."

I want to argue. I want to tell him he's just tired, paranoid, chasing shadows because his brain hasn't slept in a week.

But I can't.
Because I believe him.

I think I've believed him since the moment I saw his jaw tighten at EchoTech.

Since he muttered they're watching us with a fury that didn't quite reach his voice but echoed through my bones.

And the worst part?
I don't think it's just him anymore.

Later, we find the others still awake.
Kind of.

Jimin is staying for the night and is curled sideways on the couch in the gaming room, cradling a bag of frozen peas against his ankle and humming something off-key.