"Why do I have to do that?" I demand as he leans back against the wall. "Apologize for hitting her!"
He ignores me.
"Why won't you?" He asks, tone infuriating. "Are you still afraid you'd lose to me? That your knee's going to blow up again?"
"Shut up." I hiss back, my eyes wide with anger and hatred. "If I hadn't stepped down, you'd still be number two. You were always number two, weren't you?"
He clenches his teeth.
"Then you will have a match with me." He says as he suddenly grips my wrist, pulling me towards the building I knew so well. "I've always wanted to see how good I've gotten."
My mind goes blank.
Even though I'd been better than him in the past, that had been two years ago. While I was out of practice, he'd probably been training.
But my anger gets the best of me.
"Fine." I hiss, snatching my hand back. "And touch me like that again, and consider having my foot shoved down your throat."
________________________
The memories come blooming once I put the helmet on, strapping the straps over my chin. My heart races as I look over the familiar blue matting of the dojo.
"Ready?" Jisung smirks, and I purse my lips together as I draw my body into the familiar position.
"Shut up."
Thankfully, modern dance had kept my body flexible and attentive. But the fact that I was so out of practice dragged my confidence down.
I feint left, an exhilarating smile blooming on my lips when he falls for it.
My foot slams into his calf, and while it should've floored him— he remains upright. His face sours in recognization.
"You always fell for that." I hiss as I attack first, twisting my body completely and swinging my foot in hopes of knocking him out.
But then pain blinds my eyes when I feel his foot crash into the side of my head. Stars blink as I stumble back dazedly.
I put up my hands just in time as he strikes again, gasping when I nearly lose my balance and fall.
Losing my balance would mean the end.
Ignoring the burning pain in my head, I recall the move that I'd used in competitions before— the move that had gotten me first place at Nationals.
But when I bend forward, I realize with horror that I can't do it.
I'm out of practice.
Then my blood turns to ice as I feel another knockout hit straight onto the back of my head. The helmet tumbled off at the impact, and I crumple to the ground with darkness quickly blinding the corners of my vision.
I lost.
"You fought well." I hear his fading voice, mocking as always as my eyes stare blank and straight. My head pounds.
"You know, you have backbone." He says bemusedly, and I can feel distantly him pulling a strand of my hair.
"And I think I like that."
_______________________
Jimin's POV
"Since this is the first day, we'll end it earlier than usual." Hoseok says as I draw my sleeve over my forehead. "But expect much longer lessons from now on."
Bowing to Jungkook, I quickly leave the heated room. The cool air outside the building makes me sigh out loud in pleasure, and I look left and right.
It hadn't been that long since she'd left.
Then suddenly, I hear the sound of muffled crying.
My curiosity gets the best of me as I veer slightly off course, my eyes widening in surprise when I see a girl sobbing on the sidewalk.
"What's wrong?"
My mouth speaks by itself, and I clap my hand over it in surprise as the girl glances up.
Embarrassment reddens my cheeks as I find myself continuously bowing, stumbling back a stunned step.
"I-I-I'm sorry." I stutter, not knowing what to do at her puffed up eyes and the tears streaking at her face. But I couldn't just walk away at this point— Minah had told me that was rude.
And I didn't mean to be rude.
"Are you okay?" I manage out, and she huffs.
"No— that dumb idiot left me all to have some taekwondo match with some girl! I thought he actually loved me!"
She goes back to sobbing pitifully, and I'm left astonished as I stand there with a dumb look on my face.
Taekwondo match?
"Uh, I really don't mean to be rude," I start, so nervous my fingers wrap around themselves. "But can you describe the girl to me?"
"I don't know." The girl sighs, before rubbing her fingers to her temples. "Long hair— I heard him call her Minah or something. I don't know."
A chill runs up my spine.
"Thank you." I call back as I rush to the building where the Taekwondo room was located. Terror pales my face, turning it nearly white.
"Minah!"
My enhanced hearing catches a muffled curse seconds before I enter the room, my nightmare coming true as I see a figure collapsed on the ground.
A red helmet lies abandoned to her right.
There's no doubt someone is watching me— the someone that had made her like this. But all I can think about at that moment is a blinding panic in my mind.
"Minah?" I repeat as I press my hands against her cold face, listening for her pulse. My fingers graze her closed lids.
"Minah, don't die."
Wrestling the sparring straps from her head, I lift her upper body so she lies on my lap. My eyes blind with tears when she doesn't give an answer.
I press my sleeves against my face.
"Jimin, don't cry."
My eyes widen when I look down to see her eyes slit open, a painful groan escaping her lips as she buries her face into my shirt.
"You smell nice, Jimin."
"Are you okay?" I ask as I press a careful hand against the back of her head, worry furrowing my brows when I feel it swelling. "Who hit you?"
"You look pretty when you're worried." She says, and my lips purse together. My metal heart races as I touch a hand to her forehead.
"Let's go to the hospital."
"I'm fine~" She drones, reaching up to poke my nose. I gently take her hand when she misses an entire inch and nearly pokes my eye out. "I think you're the one that needs to go to the hospital. You look pale."
"That's because—" I sigh, tucking her hair behind her ear. "Never mind. I think you're delirious. Let's go."
"What? Go where?"
I look pointedly at her.
"Hospital, obviously. Where else—" Then my voice suddenly cuts off as I look around wildly, remembering the feeling of being watched when I'd first come in.
I'd been too distracted with Minah, and now the feeling— and whoever had been watching me— was gone.
"Stupid Im Jisung." She suddenly winces, tugging at her sleeves. "If only I'd been better..."
"He did this?"
_______________________
"He did this?"
Even though my head feels cloudy, the tone of murder is apparent in Jimin's voice. His hand instinctively tightens around my shoulder.
"Yeah," I say, suddenly feeling alert. "But it was a Taekwondo match. Technically it was allowed—"
"Don't defend him." Jimin growls, and I instantly close my lips. I hadn't been defending him— a match agreed to both participants were viable. And I would've done worse.
"And you agreed to this?" He says, as if reading my mind. "You agreed to let him give you a near concussion?"
"Sorry." I squeak out. His gaze is different than usual— it's all steel and ice. "I thought I could beat him."
He sighs, adjusting me on his back.
"Are we going home?"
At my question, he stares at me flatly. But his hands are warm as they wrap around my shoulders, and I lean my head against his as my eyes drag with sleep.
"No, Master."
"We're going to the hospital."