Fatescript

"Disarmed and Protected"

                          🌹🥀🌹

The soft hum of the air conditioner was the only sound in the room, mingling with the quiet clicking of his tablet as Taehyung scrolled through each CCTV feed meticulously. He sat cross-legged on the edge of his bed, eyes narrowed, jaw tight, every muscle in his body tense with focus. The night outside was silent, the city lights flickering through the thin curtains, but inside, Taehyung’s mind was anything but calm.

His gaze darted from one frame to another, analyzing, rewinding, zooming in. Near Jisoo’s mansion, the feeds looped endlessly: the driveway, the lobby, the perimeter walls, the streets surrounding the compound. Every shadow, every movement had to be scrutinized. He wasn’t leaving anything to chance. Not tonight, not ever again.

Two nights. He had been awake for two nights straight, sacrificing sleep, meals, his own well-being, and yet he didn’t stop. He couldn’t. Not when he had finally learned the truth. Not when he knew the depth of the danger Jisoo had been in all this time. She had been followed, watched, harassed—month after month, quietly, silently, without telling anyone. And she had endured it alone.

The thought of it twisted his stomach, a mix of rage and helplessness that refused to fade. His hands trembled slightly as he adjusted the brightness on his tablet, eyes burning from exhaustion. Every line on his face screamed fatigue, yet he forced himself to continue, to push through the fog of his own neglect. Sleep could wait. Hunger could wait. Everything could wait. Because Jisoo’s safety could not.

He ran his fingers through his hair, tugging at the dark strands as his jaw flexed. Dongmin had tried to intervene earlier, suggesting he take a break, that he needed to eat, to rest, to breathe. But Taehyung had silenced him without a word, his glare enough to make the younger man retreat quietly, worry etched into every line of his posture. No one was allowed to distract him—not tonight. Not until he found the truth.

Every feed he examined, every shadow he scrutinized, was a potential clue. The way a figure might linger too long near the gates, the subtle movement of someone watching from a distance, the quiet hum of a car parked on the street for hours—all of it mattered. His mind cataloged it all, storing every detail, calculating patterns, making connections no one else could.

But the ache in his head was relentless. He had been awake for so long, eyes burning, temples throbbing, and yet he ignored it. The hunger gnawed at him, sharp and insistent, but he shoved it aside. Meals were secondary. Water was secondary. His mission was primary. His promise to Jisoo was primary. She hadn’t confided in anyone because she didn’t want to burden anyone, because she had always been strong. But now he knew, and knowing meant action. And action required vigilance beyond reason.

Taehyung’s eyes flicked to a corner of the feed, a figure passing along a sidewalk, the hood pulled low, the pace casual. He froze, heart hammering, every nerve on edge. Zooming in, adjusting angles, enhancing clarity—his mind raced with possibilities. But it was nothing, just a delivery man making his rounds. And still, the tension didn’t ease. He couldn’t allow himself relief until he was certain.

He rubbed his temples, the dull ache intensifying, but he refused to lean back, refused to rest. He felt the weight of responsibility crushing down on him, heavier than any fatigue, heavier than any pain. Jisoo had carried this burden silently for so long. And he had failed to know, to protect, until now. But that failure would end.

He thought about her face—her lips pressed in concentration, the slight crease of worry between her brows, the faint exhaustion hidden behind her poised exterior. She hadn’t let anyone see how much the stalking had affected her. And that thought, more than any headache or hunger, fueled the fire inside him. He would find the real stalker. He would make sure she never felt that fear again.