Set Me Free.

Promises were meant to be kept. If Jimin had learned anything in his 29 years of rage, blues, and butterflies then it was that words cannot be taken back. That was what his mother had taught him when he was 6.

Therefore, he was motivated to keep his promise to Namjoon and get Chloe back. He stayed in his bed despite the rising sun indicating the time to confront his unit and get the plan to work because he was sleepy.

The last night's sleep had demanded more tossing and turning before he could get some peace.

Usually, he didn't mind that. Lying in bed in pitch darkness had become his favorite hobby the last few days. He would use that time to practice listening to the faint noises dancing in almost-drawn silence.

But, not last night. His mind was disturbingly employed by a fierce voice, asking if he knew what family and love were—Laira's voice.

"No, I don't know any of that." He had said.

But he did. He knew family and love more than anything in the world.

He knew the joy of loving family and the fear of losing them. Unfortunately, he also knew the pain of seeing your loved one's body lying on the ground, motionless, and their hand becoming cold in your warm tight grip.

That was not something he liked to remember, the night he lost his mother and then lost himself in grieving for that loss. But Laira's words brought back those memories.

She seemed to have fixed a microscope above his vulnerabilities, unknowingly so, and each lie he had to tell her to deflect the truth cost him a piece of his heart.

But he wouldn't admit that aloud. He wouldn't admit that despite being in the field of blood and death all his life, his heart was not immune to emotions and that he too was just another human.

He believed people like him didn't deserve to be the subject of anyone's sympathy, not when they were knee-deep in the dampness of immoral decisions and countless assassinations.

The count was lost a long time ago of how many he killed. That was who he had become now, a marvelously skilled killer.

He dropped bodies in a single, swift strike of his katana, drew blood with his sliver twin blades, and ripped skin with his bare hands.

He became just a shell of who he was; a ghost in the body of a perfect son raised by a loving mother.

His mother would've been devastated to see her son turned into something like this: A beast. Jimin blinked away at that thought. Although sleepy, he was very much sober to allow such weighted thinking to pull him down.

During another lazy attempt to convince himself out of bed, he sensed it even before he heard it, a presence outside the door. Whoever it was, they were not being discreet at all judging by their blunt sniffing and careless exhales.

"Who is it?" he asked aloud, with half a heart to ignore the world for at least 15 more minutes.

"Why are you still in there?" the voice aggressively whispered and Jimin stifled a laugh. He doesn't recall hearing someone whisper so loudly before.

He jumped to his feet to get the door, knowing exactly who the voice belonged to and how they wouldn't leave him alone until he showed them his face. "Hyung, whispering that loudly kinda beats the purpose of whispering, you know?"

Seokjin stared at him, head to toe, with a frown increasing on his face. "Why do you look like that?" he asked.

Jimin squinted his eyes in confusion before he turned on his heels to head back into the room and face the mirror.

His hair was disheveled and his eyes were puffed out. He cleared his throat and arranged his hair in place, praying Seokjin would ignore the obvious.

"I didn't allow you to become the leader of this clan so you could cry yourself to sleep," Seokjin stated blatantly.

Jimin let out a huff. "I did not cry, and you did not allow me to become the leader. I legitimately won this position."

"Winning the position didn't bring you immunity to tears. Why am I not surprised?"

Jimin groaned. "Hyung, can you be oblivious for once? I'm not willing to discuss my sentiments with you."

"I don't feel particularly polite at this moment to take your unwillingness in my high regard. It's either you tell me what happened or I'll bring Namjoon here to get you in the mood to share your sob story with us. Your choice."

"You can be tremendously annoying sometimes, you know?"

"Well, my annoyance is all in good intentions, so tell me what happened before I bring Namjoon. I do not make empty threats." Seokjin closed the door and made himself home on the single sofa beside the window. His face was beaming in morning freshness, indicating the quality of sleep he must've had.

Jimin was always taken aback by the evergreen touch of youth on Seokjin's face, and sometimes he would joke that he had vampire genes, maybe it was not entirely a joke.

How can a man look as if he was preserved in some thick supernatural ice for the past few years, entirely untouched by the concept of time and age?

"If I tell you I cried over a stupid book, would you believe me?" Jimin claimed the spot on the bed facing the elder. Seokjin gave him a stern look to tell he was not buying his made-up story. "I'll tell you the truth." Jimin sighed. "You asked me though. Don't blame me for dumping my emotions on you later."

Seokjin's face softened at that. "You know you can always share your worries with me and Namjoon right? I want you to know we will always have your back, Jimin."

Jimin gulped the sudden incoming of emotions surging up his throat. It had been a long time since someone looked at him like that, like how his mother used to whenever he hid his injuries from her.

The look in her eyes would convince him to confide his secrets to her. She was the only safe place he had after his brutal training sessions with his dad.

The man who he called his father was the very reason why Jimin was only left with the memories of his mother.

"I was drowning in hatred and rage for myself last night," Jimin confessed, feeling his words choking him with emotions.

"Jimin." Seokjin exhaled, knowing exactly what Jimin was talking about. "It's been years. You have to let go of that. You can't keep blaming yourself for what happened. It was not your fault."

"That's what you and Namjoon hyung tell me all the time, but you both were not there, hyung. I should have done something. I could have. She trusted me so much, you know?"

Seokjin stood out of his spot to sit beside Jimin, placing his hand on his back. "Your mother did trust you, and you did not fail her, Jimin. We went over this. There was nothing you could've done to prevent what happened that night. Your mother knew how much you love her and how you would've done anything to save her."

"But I couldn't," Jimin thought aloud.

I couldn't save her.

That was the same thought he had every single night, and sometimes it was the demon that haunted him even in his sleep.