If I had been asked a few years ago how I thought I'd escape this life, I wouldn't have said this. I wouldn't have said I'd have someone by my side or a family standing behind me. I probably would've answered that I'd be alone, somewhere in South America. That was once my dream. That was once the vision I'd fall asleep to, the vision I'd kill for. I can still see it, if I concentrate. The cold ocean water sliding over my feet as the sun beats down from above; the children laughing in the background as their parents let them play; the money hidden below floorboards in a small cabin further into town. I can still recall everything.
But now, there's a hand in mine. A small hand, petite and soft. It had small bumps where calluses were attempting to develop. It had a strong grip as if afraid to let go. We stand, side by side, staring down our adversaries. There are six others beside us, standing tall and proud. We have an unbreakable bond, stronger than any shield seen before.
I grip Jimin's hand tightly. The smell of smoke still lingered in the air from the burnt remains of our first base. I could make out chairs and picture frames from the rubble. It made my heart constrict. Had we been a second later, we would've been blown to smithereens. Our bodies would be mixed in the ashes, our legacy gone along with the restaurant. Our fight would've ended in vain. All the death would've been for nothing.
But there's a hint of vanilla in the air, bringing life to the wind. Today would be different. This time, we're the ones with the plan, with the firepower, with the control. There are no fancy words to be said, no big reveal to be found. No negotiations. Just us and Chae. No one else. This is our world, and for once, he was the one living in it. He had no power. This was our terrain. Our home.
I grit my teeth. "Are you ready, Jimin?"
He shakes his head.
I could tell from the way he held my hand that he never would be. There were no words I could offer him to soften the blow of seeing this monster again. Even telling him that it would be the last time wouldn't be enough. I can feel my heart steeling itself. This will be the last time. Whatever happens, it'll be the last time.
The last time I pull a trigger.
The last time I hear the hammer slam.
The last time I smell blood under my nose.
The last time his eyes go empty.
I stop next to the corner of the alley, my eyes on the floor. Jimin gets to start this. Not me. This isn't my moment to stand. I pull the trigger, but this isn't my time. My hand tightens into a fist so hard that I can feel my fingernails cutting. I brace myself for the slimy feeling coming next. When Jimin's steps stop, it's my turn. I don't know whether to feel at peace or anxious.
My steps fall on the heartbeats in my ears. Step, thump. Step, thump. Step, thump.
"Finally joining the party, (Y/N)?"
My teeth slide against each other, but my eyes don't come up.
"Still afraid of me? Such a shame. I thought I beat that out of you."
"Enough," Jimin snarls. "Speak your poison before I reconsider."
"So cruel. Is that any way to treat dear old dad?"
Chae continues speaking, but I can't find it in myself to listen. Nothing he says matters anymore. His words hold no weight. They're as threatening as a tiny fly. Even though I can hear Jimin's voice tremble, I have no such attachments. Years of torture just to come here, to this spot.
I laugh softly.
All that hypothesizing for nothing.
"Hmm?"
I shoot one final shot.
And just like I thought it'd be, it's in slow motion. He falls to the ground as if gravity was weak. The bodyguard realizes this was a futile attempt, eyes widening. My heart delays beating against my ribcage. Jimin turns towards me, shock on his face despite knowing the plan. Everyone talks through the earpieces, but they fall on deaf ears. The bodyguard begins to run, and a well aimed sniper ends his measly life. Jimin drifts to his knees, but I can't see his face. My eyes are locked on where Chae's body is falling back. Blood splattered forward a few feet. There's droplets hanging in the air in front of him. Gunpowder and iron scent drip into the atmosphere.
Nothing could've prepared me for this feeling. I thought I'd feel agony, or perhaps elation. Agony over never truly knowing, elation over him dying at my hands. I thought I'd feel the pit deepen, or the hole lessen. I thought it'd feel awful knowing that I'll never know my past. My real birthday is forever lost to time, and my parents died in vain. In all my days imagining this, I didn't think I'd feel so... numb. There's nothing left. No regret. No anger. No pity. Just emptiness, nothingness, as if I had been cleaned and sullied at the same time. There aren't words to describe the sensation that coursed through my body. This wasn't a killing calm. This was pure nothing, like a void had consumed any lingering emotions.
I let my hand fall to my side. The gun clattered to the ground. The sound was deafening to my ears. I could feel the vibrations by my feet.
"That's it?" My body moves over to his corpse. "That's all it took?"
His face was stone still. His eyes were empty, the light ripped out. Blood leaked from his face where the metal had torn through. His legs were relaxed, having gone out the moment I shot my gun. I nudge him with my foot. No reaction. Not even a twitch. Footsteps approached, but they meant nothing. It didn't matter who it was. I wasn't here.
"(Y/N)." Namjoon's voice was soft. "We need to go."
My feet turn towards him. "Is that really it? That's the end?"
He gives a nonverbal response, but I don't see it. It didn't matter what he said, anyway. The conclusion hurt more than the whip ever did. It was awful, terribly written, yet I'd done it to myself. I'd drawn a close to this story with a final ink spill.
His sweet voice rings out, his small hand slipping into mine: "(Y/N). Let's go home."
I turn my head towards Jimin, my body still facing the dead. "Do we just leave him there?"
"Let him rot," Hoseok mumbles, walking away.
Yoongi picks up my gun from the ground. "I agree. Let's go."
Namjoon stands to my side, his shoulders bumping into me. "Come on. It's over."
My stomach churns. The only emotion that emerged was disgust. I can feel my body shake with effort to move, but I couldn't seem to make my feet stop.
"It's over?"
Even as we walk away for the last time, I wonder if it really is.
"It's over." Jimin lets out a shuddering breath. "He'll never hurt us again."
My jaw tightens for a moment, my heart along with it. It felt so anticlimactic, like it wasn't real. There's no way he went down that easy. Chae is a monster. A single bullet isn't enough to take him down.
I look back.
Sure enough, he hadn't moved. He hadn't so much as shifted. Was he human, just like us? Human, and so fragile? Not some horrid beast with talons and claws? He wasn't the immortal he wanted everyone to believe he was. He was just a man.
And he died like a mutt.
My feet stop walking, making both Jimin and Namjoon pause. I pull my hand from Jimin's hold and walk back towards Chae, one last time.
"Good riddance, asshole." My lip curls. "I'll see you in hell."
~~~~~
The nothingness had faded, leaving only disappointment. The others were celebrating quietly by opening soju and talking about what they'd do now. Jimin was out there, and he looked free. His eyes were as clear cut as the sun shining through the clouds. He laughed for the first time in a while.
I wasn't there to hear it. I was sitting in my room with my feet on the floor and my arms resting on my knees. The only light was from a little candle on the nightstand. I could still feel the cold metal of the gun in my hand as it discharged. I could still hear the hammer hit. The sound of bone crunching echoed in my head. There was a weight hanging on my shoulders that I couldn't seem to shake. It didn't matter if Jimin was next to me or not. I felt cold. Bitter. Depressed. This victory was empty. It solved none of my problems. They were all brought to the forefront when the idea of smiling felt sickening. I could barely stomach food. Water tasted like sewage.
I sigh. I'm exhausted. I've been exhausted for what felt like days, and I'm still exhausted. I wanted to feel good, to be out there with them, to enjoy this ending of our sorrows. My body and mind didn't sync with their desires. I craved to be out, celebrating with the love of my life. I craved to have his hand in mine as we drank to happiness rather than sorrow.
I recognize his footsteps as he stops at the door.
Jimin knocks on the door. "(Y/N)?"
"Yeah?"
"Can I come in?"
"Sure."
His head pops into the room first. He paused as his eyes adjusted, then he came in. He had a soju bottle and glasses in his hands. He sets the glasses down before filling them. He smiles softly as he picks them up and turns to face me.
"Cheers?"
I take the glass, though my hand shakes. The soju licks the edge of the glass. I sigh, lowering the glass into my lap.
"Are you going to tell me what's wrong, or should I guess?"
I choke down the shot. It tasted like nothing.
"Is it because you won't get any answers?"
I shake my head.
"He died too fast?"
Another shake.
He takes one look up and down. "It feels wrong for it to have been that easy."
"It's... It's not any of those." I set the glass down. "All at once, my future problems were solved while my past problems were brought to the forefront. I hate it. I don't... I don't know my real name. I know I had one. I just..."
"You wish you could find out."
I nod. "Everything you said is true too, so I'm not sure if this was a win or a loss."
He takes his shot then fills both glasses. He lifts them, smiling softly. His eyes glittered with the flame.
"It can be both."
I take the glass, and he wraps his arm around mine. The silly gesture tugs at the corners of my mouth.
"Cheers to alcohol."
"To you, my love."
We both shoot the shots, still looped together.