The rain had come down heavily overnight.

Fresh water saturated the streets of Seoul, and Hana was thankful that she had chosen to wear boots the night before. Goosebumps were permanent residents on the skin of her legs which were exposed to the elements as she made her way home. The khaki shirt that she had woken up in was still on her back, the hemline resting just above her knees – a solid 4 or 5 inches longer than the dress she was carrying in a borrowed rucksack.

"Take it," Jungkook had said, having checked the pockets to make sure there was nothing of any value left inside it. He wasn't looking for cash or jewellery. Material goods weren't worth shit in their industry – he was looking for flash drives, coded letters or business cards. "I've a dozen just like it, seriously."

A fresh bottle of water and a hoodie had been added to her bundle before she had been sent on her way. He had offered to accompany her, but she wanted the time alone. Her come down was hitting, and she knew she'd make for terrible company.

"Thank you," she had turned to face him just before she left his room. He cocked his sleepy head in confusion. "For last night, I mean."

"Oh, no, you're fine. I'd have been a real shitty person if I just let him take you," he quipped with a small grin, referring to the man she had since learned drugged her. She was angry at herself for being so stupid, for letting herself be taken advantage of, for having her guard down. She ignored the voice in her head that was taunting her: You went looking for danger, silly. You wanted Jungkook to find you.

Perhaps she had. She knew to be careful what she wished for now.

"Still, you didn't have to. I know I'm not exactly popular around these parts."

"I think you'd fit in, yanno," Jungkook smirked, taking a step towards her to fix a strand of hair that had slipped to the wrong side of her parting. "It's just that shitty little tattoo that wouldn't."

Hana feigned offence. "Could say the same for you."

There was a mutual understanding between the two of them. They came from the same world, yet it felt like they belonged on different planets. Hell, they did. She was made for the moon, and he had a kinship with the sun.

"We really are going to have to stop meeting like this," Jungkook was still playing with her hair. Hana knew there wasn't a single hair out of place. She didn't stop him. It was only a matter of time before his words became a reality, and she wanted to preserve this for just a little longer.

She was blissfully unaware of the torment in Jungkook's head, Jin's words bouncing against his skull like a rattle: End things or I will.

Unlocking from her hair, his hand rested on her jaw as he leant down, pressing a kiss against her forehead. His lips were firm, sincere, deliberate.

That was when the goosebumps first appeared on Hana's legs, and they remained there, still, as she approached her little house down the lanes. She was rummaging in her clutch, crouched beside her door when a voice startled her.

"You look like a drowned rat," Yoongi's monotone voice commented.

"Only just home, Hana? Someone had a good night," grinned the tall man beside Yoongi. His hair was dark, slicked back and he looked as if he should be gracing the pages of Vogue, not the seedy underbelly of Seoul.

"Well aren't you a sight for sore eyes, Joon," Hana stood, opening her arms wide to hug him. Their work schedules and his frequent trips away had meant that she hadn't seen him for weeks now. "You've lost weight," she commented as she noticed his hug wasn't as full at it once had been.

"I've just been missing your home cooking," he winked, knowing Hana couldn't toast bread without setting the fire alarm off. Already with his keys in hand, Namjoon unlocked the door for them all. As they kicked off their shoes and caught up on formalities, Jimin came down the stairs at such speed he almost fell.

"Where the fuck have you been?" He practically yelled at Hana.

"Nice to see you too," she rolled her eyes. She wanted to tell him what had happened – she wanted to tell all of them – but knew that it wasn't a viable option. Yoongi's threat of tearing Jungkook limb from limb was still far too fresh in her mind. "You missed an after-party and a half."

"The two of you on anything?" Namjoon enquired. He was the strictest of them all by far and liked to keep tabs on precisely what happened within their four walls.

He and Yoongi often played good cop, bad cop both on the job and at home. Despite Yoongi playing bad cop - and doing it exceptionally well – it was Namjoon who was the scariest of them all. He was the one with ties higher up. He's the one who disposed of people below him like lambs for slaughter. His demeanour was calm though; always controlled, always perfect. It was unsettling.

"Mandy come-down," Hana called as she headed upstairs, electing to omit the truth about last night from her narrative. What they didn't know surely couldn't hurt them.

"Team talk in half an hour," Namjoon bellowed loud enough for everyone to hear. Hana had been hoping to nap, but that was never going to happen with Joon home. If they weren't working, he wasn't happy, and if Namjoon wasn't happy... well, they didn't like to think about it.

It took everything in Hana's power not to curl up into her duvet as soon as she entered her room. It was warm, the window having been closed just as she liked it, and her bed was practically inviting her in for a snooze. She shook her head, trying to rid herself of her desire to nap and chucked the rucksack onto her queen-sized mattress instead.

She paused slightly as she heard a noise she didn't recognise. It was ever so faint, like the whir of an electric toothbrush being used by the next-door neighbour.

She paid it no more attention until she started getting changed and heard the noise again. Her eyes scanned the room and landed on the only foreign object in there: the weathered black bag. Perplexed, she emptied the bag with quite some force, the items inside scattering out one by one. The water, her dress, his hoodie all tumbled onto her sheets. It was the last object that she didn't recognise, one that she definitely hadn't noticed earlier: a phone.

It was a burner, an old Nokia. Hana hadn't seen one of these since her childhood, the monochromatic screen lighting up a faint shade of green every few seconds. She marvelled at the relic, utterly confused. She knew she wasn't supposed to have this.

Across town, Jungkook sat at the foot of his bed, tapping his iPhone in his palm. "Shit," he lamented, half regretting what he had done. He was playing with fire, and he knew he was going to get burned. The way he saw it, he may as well enjoy the flames while he could.

It was still raining outside as he made his way across his room and tossed his phone on the windowsill. He wondered if his view was in line with Hana's.

She, too, was at her window. The only difference was that she had a phone in her hand, repeatedly reading the pixilated message in front of her.

Seongsan Bridge, Mapo-gu. Tonight @ 10:45. JK.