The house that he takes you to is old and depleting, shingles slowly escaping from their place on the roof. The door has long been caved in, and some of the windows are shattered, the ground littered with gleaming shards of translucent glass. A patch of graffiti decorates the outer wall.

Yoongi sits beside you in the driver's seat of a high-dollar SUV, one hand resting on the steering wheel. The interior is a creamy leather that lets you sink into the material like you're sinking into warm water. The expensive car is definitely out of place on a dirty street such as this one.

Yoongi's cellphone rests on his thigh, out in case any news of Jungkook's condition comes in. The pretty slants of his eyes are sad and nostalgic as he stares out the window and gazes at the old house.

It's obvious that this house, this house that's slowly but surely fading into a pile of dirty, mounded bricks, means a great deal to the man seated beside you. A gentle gleam in his rich brown eyes urges your voice to come out soft and gentle when you speak.

"Okay," you say quietly. "You've got me. I'm going to ignore the part where you just drove me all the way back into the city without a blindfold on and ask the obvious question: why are we here?"

Yoongi smiles then, a soft, ironic kind of smile.

"Trust is a two way street, Y/N," he says. "We realized that we've been asking you to trust a bunch of strangers who haven't exactly given you much reason to." He stops and looks at you, tearing his eyes from the crumbling house. "We're trying to give you reason to."

"To trust you?" You sit back in the car, locking your gaze onto a broken piece of glass that's catching the sunlight. "Tell me why we're here. I'll think it over while you do."

Like heck you'll trust them. They've kidnapped you, kept you locked in a basement, and chased you through the dark over and over again. You're like a pet that keeps trying to escape.

How could you trust them just like that?

"Come on," Yoongi says, unbuckling his seatbelt.  He hops out of the car and slips his phone into the back pocket of his jeans, motioning you to follow.

Cautiously, you do.

The two of you walk into the house with gentle steps, scared that the slightest touch will send the walls and ceiling falling into ruin.

You hop over a broken chair and bump into Yoongi's back when he stops abruptly in the center of the room.

After sending you a tiny glare, he gestures his arms out like he's presenting the decrepit room to you.

"Welcome to the house where Jung Hoseok grew up," Yoongi says dramatically.

You have to admit that you're a bit surprised. Taking a glance around the room, you turn just in time to see a rat scampering across an exposed beam in the ceiling. "This is where Hoseok lived? What happened?"

Settling his hands on his hips, your slender companion looks sadly around him. "Well, not many people were interested in buying a house where three people were murdered."

Breath catching in your throat, you stare at Yoongi's blank face and wait for him to announce the punchline of the joke.

Haha, he would say. Gotcha. I had you going there.

Except, he doesn't say that.

Yoongi's face never changes from its somber, sad expression as he watches you process the information you've just been given.

"You're serious," you breathe. Taking another look around the room, you can't help but subconsciously looks for bloodstains or human bones to magically appear on the filth-splattered floor.

Yoongi nods. "Hoseok's dad was a teacher. His family lived in Gwangju before, but his father was transferred to teach here in Seoul when Hoseok was sixteen.

Sixteen. That's a tender age to make a move. He would've had to regain all the friends he lost, and learn to function in a whole new city.

"That's rough," you mumble.

"Not as rough as what he went through after that," responds Yoongi. "Because his family was murdered not even two months later."

He points his finger in the shape of a gun and points it at your head, making a soft popping noise.

You cover your mouth with a slightly trembling hand, eyes wide. Your horrified silence prompts Yoongi to continue on. "Hoseok was out working a part-time job when it happened. Came back to find his mother, father, and older sister here."

You can just see it in your mind.

Sweet, cheerful Hoseok trudging home after working to earn some money for his destitute family. You can see him pushing through the door, calling out his arrival only to be met with a heavy silence. You can imagine the way his skin would pale and how his legs would go weak and fail him as he stares at his family limp on the ground, resting in pools of blood.

You can hear the scream of agony ripped from his chest.

"What...why? Who did it?" Your imagination is running wild with pictures of men in black masks sneaking through the windows, and rugged criminals laughing maniacally over their victims. "Did they catch the person who did it?"

Shaking his head, Yoongi gingerly leans his weight against a rickety wooden table. "Nope. For the next three years, Hoseok used every last bit of the life insurance money to hire any detective or policemen who would take the case, but no one ever solved it. He ran himself ragged over it."

You can imagine why. If you were part of a loving family and you found them murdered for no certain reason, you wouldn't ever be able to sleep again.

You cross your arms, thinking hard. "Was it a robbery? Was anything stolen?"

Yoongi shakes his head again.

"And his dad was just a teacher?"

He nods. "A normal family. No hints of any kind of criminal background or activity."

Stumped, you tap your foot on the ground, wincing ever so slightly when the action sends a shard of glass skittering across the ground. "That doesn't make any sense. Who would have a reason for killing them then?"

It's a wonder that Hoseok can maintain his cheerful persona after everything, all the tragedy he's been dragged through in his life. He may have aided in kidnapping you, but all you want to do right now is to give him a massive  hug.

Yoongi nudges an empty beer bottle with his foot. "That's an excellent question; one that Hoseok's been trying to answer for years. After he turned eighteen, he got out from under the country's foot and started to dig in the darker places for answers. He started burrowing deeper and deeper into the criminal world, searching for anyone who had news of the person that murdered his family, and before he knew it he was doing favors for people, taking out the guys that needed taking out in order to get information. Ended up with us through that freaky luck trick of his, and he's been here ever since. And he's still searching."

Your shoulders slump at the thought of justice still escaping the man, even after all these years. The unknown criminal must be like a demon lurking in the back of Hoseok's mind, haunting him unendingly until the crime is solved.

However, you still don't get what you're doing here. "That's...that's heart wrenching, but I still don't understand why we're here."

Yoongi smiles and taps the tattoo on his cheek, momentarily covering up the teardrop-shaped ink on the crest with his finger. "You asked about these, right? Why the tattoos?"

You bow your head in agreement.

Yoongi throws his hands out again, gesturing to the filthy room like its a grand monument. "This is why. Jung Hoseok was wronged, but he could have moved on. He could have kept on living a normal life, and dated a normal girl, and gotten married with a bunch of kids by now. He could've gotten a normal job. But he didn't. He chose this life." Again Yoongi taps the tattoo on his cheek. "Teardrops can be used in prisons to represent someone who's seeking revenge for a murdered friend, but we use it a little differently. It's a reminder every day; of the tears we've shed that pushed us to be who we are today, to be where we are. A reminder of where we came from. If we forget that, we risk losing ourselves completely."

A moment of silence rings throughout the room, sitting in the air like a cloud as your brain slowly processes everything that Yoongi's  telling you.

You exhale heavily and bite your lip at the deep symbolism that hides beneath the ink. "So those are the tears. What about the crosses?"

"Right," Yoongi says. "What's different about the others, everyone but Hoseok and me?"

You try to think hard about any possible links outside of their mutual criminal involvement, but come up blank. "I'm not sure."

"Jungkook and Taehyung are boss' sons. Jin and Namjoon were the kids of loyal members. Jimin was a bodyguard. They were born into this situation." Yoongi traces an invisible cross on his cheek, over the tear. "Their fathers' burdens are theirs to deal with. Their fathers' crosses to bear, and our own tears to shed."

"A cross or a tear," you mumble to yourself. "Born or bred."

"Born or bred," Yoongi parrots. "But in the end, all that matters is that we ended up together. We're righting the wrongs of the world."

Recoiling from his statement, you peer at the black-haired man in confusion. "How is being hitmen righting the wrongs of the world? Aren't you just creating more wrongs?"

Slowlys, Yoongi straightens, tilting his head to the side like a curious dog. "Nobody's told you yet?"

Heck, there apparently isn't anything that you know. He should just assume that you're clueless at this point. "Obviously not."

"Well let me be the one to inform you."

Yoongi grins and pulls his foot back before kicking the beer can hard, sending the aluminum screaming across the empty space like a rocket. "We choose our targets very, very carefully, Y/N. And there isn't one person that we've killed that didn't deserve it."

[A/N]
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Okay, so I'm finally back to my school. Hopefully updates will be more often and consistent from now on. Sorry for the long wait again ☹️