Before the Fall

Chapter Eighteen - Troublesome Protocols

Jin

I saw Namjoon and Taehyung running out of the post. I knew they were headed towards the clearing.

I know how my panicky ways bother Namjoon. We've been friends since we were toddlers. We know each other's strengths, weaknesses, and irritations.

I am quite a worry wart. No big cat genes could fix that.

I had my reasons for being fearful.

Li may not think so, but I remember quite well they day I was stolen from my family.

I was young, incredibly young.

However, I am the oldest of my group and the only one with such vivid memories of life before H-Corp.

I was only three when I was taken. My family murdered as I was ripped from my mother's arms.

I had an older brother.

Emphasis on the word, "had".

He, along with both my parents are rotting in some mass grave somewhere.

It pains me to think I won't ever be able to even give them a proper burial.

I am not even sure how or why I was selected for the experiments.

All I know is that it all gave me a very insecure personality.

I remember whenever I would cry for my family, or had nightmares, the caregiver assigned to us would shush me and tell me misleading things to convince me of some made-up reality.

Somehow, even as a naive child, I knew to not believe her.

I guess some might call me wise beyond my years.

I simply call it smart.

"Hyung."

A quiet and raspy voice came from behind me and I jumped, gasping loudly.

It's a terrible habit I have. I'm just so jumpy. Especially when I'm lost in my own head.

I turned and saw Yoongi smirking at me from a little ways behind me.

He was such a quiet one.

He had been hybridized with snow leopard genetics and he quickly mastered the art of silent movement.

It was incredibly amazing and annoying all at the same time.

"Yoongi, I swear."

"Please, go ahead. I'd love to hear you lapse for once."

I hated his stupid smirk.

He was the one closest to my age, and the second oldest of our group.

He had always been quiet, minding his own business and never bothering anyone.

He had acquired his rank of Major General through steady and careful work.

He treated those below him with calm patience and high expectations.

The men under him respected him, but I just found him to be bothersome at times like this.

"I'm not sure why I still tolerate you," I grumbled, turning back to the window.

"Because you love me," he said cutely, totally uncharacteristic of him.

"I'm feeling nauseated."

"Good," he said, lapsing back into his lazy tone. "Where's Joon?"

"Out."

"With?"

"Why?"

"Why can't you tell me?"