Shadow Dancing | K.TH

Caviar and Wagyu Beef

"Dying?" I exclaim, my voice a mix of horror and shock. But by the time I register the unexpected blow he delivered, he's gone— as fast as he'd appeared.

Dying? As in death. As in illness— something terminal?

But he looked perfectly healthy. How could he possibly be dying when he looked better than most people I'd seen? I mean, he did keep to himself, but that wasn't really out of the ordinary.

Then I hear the sound of door creaking, blades running against each other.

"Tzuyu?" A confused Jungkook echoes towards my stunned self, and I can glance him hiding something silver and red behind his back.

"What are you doing out here? Where's V hyung?" Both of his hands are folded firmly so I can't see what he's holding. The rest of the members soon file into the large house, each mirroring Jungkook's reaction.

A bloodstained knife. That was what Jungkook had been holding, wasn't it?

"V!" Jin yells as soon as he sees me. Then his eyes glance above the banister, fixing on something I can't see. "What are you doing? Come down here right now!"

A shadow moves— a blur in my vision. I'd never realized how quick V moved, until he literally materializes in the empty space next to Jin.

The aura of distance is back. I can feel it— with the way he avoids my gaze and his posture slightly lowered than usual. Could it be that he was afraid I was judging him or something?

"Yes, hyung?"

The relationship between V and the others seem to hover amongst family and business. He treats them with care, and I can see that he would die for any of them. But he follows the older members with respect— even though I was sure that wasn't applicable at times.

"It's not like you to leave her alone— you'd be watching her like a hawk. Did something happen?"

Gosh, these men are so intuitive. I try to calm my rising heart rate— concerned that my increasing number of flickers will give everything away. It was pretty obvious that V didn't want them to know that he'd revealed so much of their information.

But why has he asked for my father's identity?

"I was watching her, hyung." V says, his voice cool— perfectly calm. His features are arranged into stone, eyes slanted and reminding me of ice and snow.

Jin raises his eyebrow at the younger man, skeptical of his claims. But after a while, he blows out a breath and caves in. He'd probably decided that pushing V would only result in more frustrating answers and unreadable expressions.

"Alright, then. Namjoon, make sure that this one goes through— the ones I used cost a lot, and I'm pretty low on the stocks anyway."

That must be his stash of explosives— and Namjoon must be the one that did all the payment and whatever job that required a math genius or a clever mind in general.

And then in the corner of my eye, I see Yoongi tapping Jungkook's arm. The moment the green-haired man does that, the maknae moves over to me.

"Hey, Tzuyu. Is it okay if I show you something?"

It doesn't take a genius to figure out that whatever Yoongi has to discuss, he doesn't want me to hear. That only sparks my curiosity as I shift a bit closer towards the others, attempting to distract Jungkook by asking mindless questions.

"Is that blood on your knife?"

He freezes up, doe eyes wide as he shoves the same knife I'd seen deep into one of his many pockets. During those precious few seconds, I turn my focus towards Yoongi as he whispers to V.

"They're all looking for her," He says, and my heart seizes. Of course they were. They wouldn't stop until I was found and returned, and they'd kill whoever they found shielding me.

"And her father's Kim Kisung, V. You know what that means."

What?

Then Jungkook pulls on my arm, his brows drawn with a knowing look. He's aware that I'd tried to distract him, and he'd fallen for my attempt. And he clearly wasn't taking it well.

"Tzuyu, I'm hungry."

The least I could do was to cook for them. I knew a bit about fixing food— my father didn't trust anyone with me, worrying that they might be the key to my escape. So I'd had to cook myself food since I was old enough to touch a pan.

Even though I was a bit disappointed I didn't get to hear anything else, the bunny maknae was hungry.

"What do you want?" I ask as I look through the surprisingly furnished fridge. I'd expected that a group of boys wouldn't be able to feed themselves by cooking, but the fridge was filled with vegetables and fruits— and meat.

A lot of meat.

"What did you do— kill a herd of cows? Slaughtered a bunch of pigs? This is enough meat to feed a hundred people, Jungkook."

"Oh, yeah." He says nonchalantly, satisfied that I could no longer hear the conversation going on between Yoongi and V. "Jin hyung likes to cook meat dishes, and he usually does it really well."

Oh.

So Jin was the cook/mom here.

"Can I have a sandwich?"

Disbelief fills my gaze as I wave at the piles and piles of delectable choices. There was a million things he could've chosen, and he'd chosen a sandwich.

A sandwich.

"What do you want in it?"

Maybe he'd been planning to put a bunch of exotic stuff in there. That was understandable. There was just no way that he wanted a classic sandwich when there were all these choices.

Besides,I simply just couldn't stand all these expensive foreign cuisines going to waste. Being a passionate food lover, I'd rather burn myself than to burn a precious piece of steak. Having been held captive in a torture building, I'd always been given nothing to eat but bread and the basics— and the occasional steak on my birthdays. So I took food to heart, and when I say that, I really, really meant what I said.

"PBJ. Thanks."

He did not just say that.

"Jungkook, honey." I say, sarcasm dripping from my voice. "Do you want me to chuck something at you? Or would you rather take back your words and live to see another day?"

His doe eyes go wider than a deer caught in headlights as he sees me brandish a giant kitchen knife.

"W-What did I do wrong? Did I say something?"

"Look, you ignorant waster. Do you see this right here? It's called expensive stuff that's about to go out of date. And what do you see me holding?"

He gulps. "Peanut butter?"

"Close, child." I smile a deadly smile as I tighten my fingers around the cool glass. "It's a peanut butter jar that I'm about to knock you out with."

When he stares at me like I've just grown three heads, I blow out an exasperated breath. If everyone in this house had been wasting precious delicacies such as these, I might just blow.

"How old are you, Jungkook?"

Being the murderous assassin he was, he swallows nervously and takes a step back from me.

"I'm, uh, seventeen."

"I'm eighteen."

He tries to crack a smile at my serious expression as he takes another step back, nearly slamming into the kitchen counter.

"Um, hi, Noona."

To keep things short and uncomplicated, Jungkook ended up eating a sandwich stuffed with caviar and wagyu beef.