You've been walking for at least an hour and a half through the dark forest.

An hour and a half of trudging over sticks and rocks and dragging your feet through untraveled underbrush. You have to admit that there's some sweat beading on your forehead as you go, cooling quickly in the chilled air.

The silence of the night and of the woods, and the soft chittering of insects and animals are the only things that keep you company as you travel.

It's cold without your heavy coat. The biting air hisses in through the gaps of your torn clothing and creeps against your skin, tightening and raising the hair all over your body.

You keep yourself entertained by blowing out your clouded breaths in long, misty streams in front of you and then bulleting directly through the middle of them.

You never relax.

Even as the blood dries up and your feet trot along, your shoulders don't flinch from the tightened position you keep them locked in. Constantly, the sounds of sly footsteps or faint voices are things you look out for.

It's an itching pressure in the back of your mind, a tiny voice screaming out that you have to watch your back, and your front, and your sides, because they're professionals at this.

They're professionals and you're lost in the forest, so you're obviously in the underdog position.

You wonder if Jungkook didn't bleed out on the forest floor.

Biting your lip so the pain brings you back into focus, you quit dwelling on those thoughts and continue your trek. It's isn't much longer until the trees begin the thin, and a faint light shines through the gaps.

You emerge from the woods onto a paved road, the smooth and even surface giving your weary feet some relief. A street light shines brightly somewhere far above, illuminating the stretch that you're on.

A ways in the distance, you can see another one, then another, forming a trail of lights that leads off to a faint glow beyond. A town, you hope, and one that isn't too far away,

Hope and anticipation occupy the worried cavity of your chest.

If there's a town, you can get food. Clothes. Maybe even a bus.

And the place where you can get in a bus is the place of your salvation.

You can get away from here, and from Seoul, and from everywhere and everyone that's after you.

This time, you're going to the country instead of a city, and you're changing your name again. It's easy to imagine yourself in the summer, clad in a pair of overalls and a sun visor as you toil in the fields of a farm in the countryside.

Being a farmer for the rest of your life sounds peaceful to you, and so normal. You should've gone there to begin with.

This walk passes faster due to your excitement, which puts a bounce in your stride. You almost dance when small buildings begin to pop up on your left and right, and the sweet stillness of a small roadside community embraces you.

There's a little store that has a lit-up Open 24 Hours sign hanging in the window, which you're insanely grateful for. The inside is quiet and warm, lit by fluorescent lights that buzz slightly, like a swarm of flies hovering around the upper-air zone of the store.

A middle-aged woman sits behind the checkout counter, smacking bubble gum and fighting to keep her eyes open. She murmurs a sleepy greeting to you as you enter, not paying too much mind to you.

You bow in response to her hello and keep your back to her, trying to shield the worst of the rips and tears in your clothing, and the cuts in your skin.

There's a mishmash of everything here to buy.

Clothes hang on racks in the back corner of the room, and camping gear and supplies takes up the back wall. Various stations of food and miscellaneous items litter the shelf spaces between here and there, which you peruse hastily.

This town and store are obviously made to cater to outdoorsmen and hikers, or travelers that are just passing through. Everything is packaged up to-go.

You've lucked out yet again.

Water, a pack of granola bars, and a soft cloth hoodie that shouldn't be too hard on your wounds are things you pick up, making a pit-stop by the medical shelf on the way to grab some disinfectant and bandages.

You slip the hoodie on, glancing at the woman behind the counter. "Is it alright if I wear this out?"

She starts from a light doze, glancing at you with barely-conscious eyes, and waves you on.

It must be nice to be able to sleep here, with the door unlocked and the store empty, but still able to feel safe and sound. You can't help but envy the ease with which she snoozes. She's completely unaware and vulnerable.

She doesn't even know.

Sighing, you shake your head and carry your items to the counter, where you wait as she sluggishly gives you change.

"Have a nice night," the woman slurs.

You nod to her and head back out into the night air, armed with food and warmer clothing to get through it all. The pockets of your new hoodie are starting to warm from your body heat, the temperature transferring into your wind-bitten hands.

Bus station. Gotta find a bus station, you say to yourself as you go.

You're actually a tiny bit concerned that this minuscule place isn't big enough to merit a bus station.

The streets are empty, small and narrow as they wind their way deeper into the heart of the town and weave in between squat buildings.

You don't understand how this small of a town can be so confusing to navigate. Maybe it's actually bigger than you thought it was, because every time you take a turn in an attempt to find the center of the town, all you find is another slim alley, then another, and another. Every turn reveals a new road to walk down, lined periodically with black-windowed stores and empty restaurants.

You're frustrated after walking this far to find simply a maze of buildings with no rhyme or reason to the placement.

It's the freaking Greek Labyrinth in here.

Rounding yet another corner in frustration, you stop abruptly when a group of men coming out of a bar appear in front of you, the heavy smell of alcohol drifting off of then in waves.

Immediately, you turn around and start back the other way.

Hopefully, they won't notice you. Especially since your figure is covered up by the new hoodie, you should be able to slip by without being-

"Hey! Little girl!"

Crap.

This situation seems disgustingly similar to one that you just went through. You can feel a nervous sweat starting to bead at your temples.

Why does this always happen to you?

"Issa little girl!" another man slurs in laughter. "Washee doing outeer?"

"Nothing," you sing uneasily to yourself, moving your legs quickly. "She's not doing anything. Please don't mind her."

But even as you say this, footsteps are drawing close to you. Adrenaline starts boiling in your veins, urging you into action. You huff out a breath in exaggeration and almost break into a jog.

But you stop.

Because someone calls out your name.

"Hey, Y/N! It is Y/N, right?"

It's a feminine voice, one that's vaguely familiar but extremely out of place. You glance to the side and see two figures approach from a side street, one a small female and the other a large male.

The sight of the unknown man makes the drunkards stumble to a stop behind you. The girl approaches you, shooting looks at the far-from-sober pack.

"I haven't seen you in so long," says the girl. You simply stare at her face, knowing that you recognize her but unable to remember why. "How are you?"

She hooks her arm through yours.

As she begins to steer you away from the alley where the drunk men are now shuffling off to make trouble elsewhere, her male companion tailing the two of you, it suddenly hits you. The slant of her eyes, and the slight hill of her nose, and the twist of her mouth combine to make a stupidly familiar face.

You know exactly who she is.

"Mina?"

[A/N]
Unedited
Sorry it was boring 😭
I hope y'all have a great day❤️❤️