OPERATION X || JJK

𝐓𝐖𝐎

I didn't have to ask his to expand. My face was probably a clear give away of my curiosity and concern.

"Whatever happened at the field. Well- actually, um. You see," he paused, carefully picking his words. "We have reason to believe you have an enhancement."

I took a step backwards, tripping over a hump in the carpet. Without bothering to hold myself upright, my knees crumpled and I fell onto the carpeted floor without grace. No one bothered to offer a hand (not that I would be able to take it) and the burdening silence continued.

My eyes flickered back and forth between each person. Taehyung, Hoseok and Jimin all seemed to share a look of sympathy, lips drawn into a thin line as they avoided any eye contact. Yoongi, surprisingly, also possessed a look of pity but, unsimilar to the others, he also bore a look of discontent. As if the idea of boring, old Hayeon having an enhancement was distasteful for him. What hit the hardest, however, was the look of devastation of the leader's face. With one glimpse, I understood the truth of what was occurring- Namjoon truly, honestly, wholeheartedly believed that I had an enhancement and the guilt was tearing him to shreds.

My head shook, spinning between left and right so quickly, it was as if my head was being pulled by a string. As soon as that imagery formed in my head, I paused, grabbing the wool carpet fibres between my fingers and squeezing tightly, trying to calm the shiver that was overtaking.

"They've made me into a monster," I murmured, glaring straight up at Namjoon. The boys eyes widened underneath the forming layer of moisture and he blinked rapidly, the tears gradually escaping. His upper lip wobbled and he bit his lips, as if that would stop them from trembling. It didn't and he ended up slumping in front of us, his head leaning against his thighs. Muffled slightly by his denim jeans, the strangled cry rang through the room, startling everyone. I saw Yoongi stiffen and he take a tentative step towards his crying friend. Namjoon didn't even notice, the wrangled wails bouncing of the walls. In fact, he was crying so hard that he slipped off the leather of the sofa, landing in a prostrate position in front of me. The crying never stopped.

"Namjoon..." I paused, reaching out to comfort him. Just as I was about to place my hand on his, Yoongi shouted loudly. I didn't even hear what he said but the realisation hit me like a ton of bricks. I pulled back as though I'd been scolded. I had nearly hurt Namjoon. Again. I curled up, pulling my knees to my chest as I shuffled backwards towards the nearest wall. Now Namjoon wasn't the only one crying.

"I'm so, sorry," I whimpered, glaring down at my shaking hands in disgust. I clenched my fists and watched as the skin turned white on my knuckles. I did that once, twice, three times before I managed to gain some composure. "I keep forgetting."

"That's okay Hayeon, you're just not used to it yet," Jimin noted kindly, his eyes still drooped with sadness but his mouth twisted into a small smile. I knew he was only trying to help but his words just made everything worse.

"I don't want to get used to this," I spat, not to Jimin but towards the world. "They've made me their puppet. A weapon."

This was torture- targeted torture. They'd chosen me to have this enhancement, this rubbish, pointless, useless enhancement, that would only ever result in pain not just for those who made contact but also, for myself. They were stripping me of an essential thing. Human touch. A comfort. They'd made me their pawn in their game of chess. I was a useless piece, simply made to fill the board. It was pure cruelty, not that I expected much more from that place. They would forever remain corrupt and savage.

"Hayeon, you need to calm down. You and Namjoon, both," Hoseok announced, eyes flashing to the boy wrapped up in Yoongi and Jimin's arms as he soaked their shirts with tears. There was a scurry of whispers and as a sort of blissful calmness washed over me, dunking my head into a bucket of tranquility, I knew exactly what was going on.

"Hoseok, please don't," I said, shaking my head as I tried to shake off the power he'd asserted over me. It was nice to not feel like I was hyperventilating into oblivion but stripping away the pain would only lead to a larger hurt later on. Hoseok seemed reluctant but, took a deep breath and released the hold of his emotional manipulation. As suspected, coming out from the dreamlike euphoria was like a slap to the face.

Namjoon, however, didn't object and he gradually calmed down, his breath now coming out in laboured gasps rather than heavy sobs. He leaned back, placing his head against the cushion of the sofa and let his eyes flutter shut.

"We're all fucked."

No one answered. I think we all knew that Namjoon was right. This was no arguing with his logic. We were all hanging on the edge of a cliff with little escape. We would have to clamber back up or fall to our doom.