Sometimes, the coincidences are truly ironic. Mocking, like the pattern of life, really. They pop up under the noses of unhinged individuals and reveal truths, secrets, and matters capable of turning the tables upside down, but they will still turn and hide behind bushes and towering walls, becoming the shadow of a picture so bright, and only when the sun emerges will they shine with their brightness.

But at that time, it's usually very late, for that the time when a person facepalms and expels sighs of anguish, regret and annoyance at the naivety and stupidity with which they choose to live such a deceitful life.

But Jungkook wasn't there yet. No, still not. And if he had known how well you actually knew his sister, how deep the bond was that established your relationship, he wouldn't tell you what a good kid she was, how funny and sometimes insufferable. He wouldn't smile and then sigh as he told you about her dreams and goals. He wouldn't have turned his palm to hide his tears. He would have facepalmed if you told him that you knew about all those dreams she had, maybe even more than he did. He would have put his hand over his mouth if you had told him that although insufferable, she was loving, caring too.

Had he known, he would have sighed, but not out of sadness. The air he would have expelled would have been poisonous, a venom that carries questions about truths that are killers, serious assassins.

But all good. Jungkook was far from knowing the truth, and you were far too good at hiding it. The magic spell you both cast. A blue powder of ignorance and a black one of deceit.

But even dark blue is affected by bleach when it reaches it, and lord, was there a stronger chemical than the truth. See, there's only one thing that can combat secrecy, and that's nothing but curiosity. Jungkook was curious. He was a renegade lab full of bleach that flooded every room it reached, and no, Jungkook was not willing to hold back.

You had no way of knowing because the eye you had on him turned out to be infected and had to be quarantined. So you didn't know that he had come a long way to you and had found answers in your lab to many questions and questions to rejoin found answers. It was almost time to go home; the hands of the clock were approaching six in the evening when his phone buzzed several times. He was about to turn the noise off when he realized his phone was on screen saver, no calls or messages coming in, but as the noise continued, he reached for the drawer to get the burner he still had not gotten used to.

"Jungkook, you need to come here right away. I have sent you the address. Make it quick. I have found a lead."

No, you didn't know; as a matter of fact, you thought he was at a work dinner as he had told you when he called to let you know that he would be late. And that's where you were wrong when you let your guard down. You would blame it on lack of manpower, would blame it on luck too, but deep down, you knew you just longed for a sense of normalcy and mutual trust.

But Jungkook was groping in the dark right next to you. Because he thought that everything you shared, your mundane life and activities, were all normal, a simple life of a married couple. He did not know that you wished you were half the couple he thought you were, and you cursed the fact that you couldn't make demands or ask him to make changes, because you were the one who had to make those changes, not him.

So as you sat in front of the open window with a cigarette in one hand and a tumbler of whiskey in the other, waiting for his team outing to end, he was looking for clues in the drawers of your actual office, not that in the library. No, no, not that. He was on the deck from which you did your real job.

Right where you were about to drown Taehyung in acid.

"We have to call the police. We can't turn a blind eye to this."

Jungkook remained silent, engrossed in his curiosity and the fruit it was reaping. His steps were slow, very slow in fact. But he walked purposefully, steadily and confidently through the not very spacious and smelly laboratory. With latex gloves on his hands so as not to leave fingerprints, he examined each object, wishing he had brought a mask so as not to inhale the toxic odor that lurked in the props. His fingers remained clutched around the credit card cut in half, from which only the last syllables of the holder's name could be read as he turned to his partner and old friend with a raised eyebrow and a suggestive look, "And tell them we came across this while playing Sinishi Kudo to pursue a cherished hobby?"

"Jungkook, look around, man. We are in the den of the lion; we've knocked cold two innocent souls and tied them up like animals. Jungkook, we have gone too far and gotten ourselves too entangled. I am afraid it's time for us to take a step back, lest we be devoured by the lion."

Jungkook maintained a neutral expression, not tilting or uninterested. He listened, a trait he had acquired over the years. A trait that grew with his bones and the structure they had taken on as they molded him into the man he became. He liked to listen, he found intrigue in it. Something everyone hates or simply doesn't have time for. But he found it was the key to expanding his own knowledge. "You just said it, Namjoon; we have come too far; wouldn't it be a shame to give up now? And to what? Fear and a damn guilty conscience." He walked towards Namjoon while flicking the remnant of the found credit card between his fingers, and when he stood a few inches away from him, he turned his head and looked at the men they had sent out of service when they raided the place to facilitate the inspection, "do they really look innocent to you? Take a good look around, Joon; these people make their money from drugs. That doesn't sound very innocent to me."

It had been a while since Namjoon had noticed the shift of sparkle in Jungkook's eyes. They had become sharper, he thought, and he wondered where the hint of a smile they usually had had gone. Now that he was standing right in front of him, he realized that not only had his gaze changed, but the whole Jungkook he had grown up with and befriended from childhood to manhood had changed. Another man he did not recognize and at one point even feared, for what stained those eyes wasn't just revenge, it was distilled hatred coupled with an absence of fear and restraint. A man who had little to lose and a lot to do.

"Besides, we may have hit the jackpot tonight, buddy," Jungkook scoffed and Namjoon found the whole situation anything but amusing, in fact, he found it morbid. "Let's try to identify him. Maybe this person will lead us to the lion and not just an empty den."

"Jungkook," Namjoon grabbed him by the wrist as he turned to fetch the other half of the credit card, "the police will find out eventually; I mean, that's our goal, to bring them to justice and have her death avenged by the law," but when the look in Jungkook's eyes grew even more sinister than it had since his sister's death, Namjoon released his grip on his friend's wrist and took a few steps back, his mouth open and a look that wavered between confusion and fear, coloring his face a shade paler, "isn't it?"

"It is," offered Jungkook with a timbre that failed to bring reassurance, "we are building a case here, Joon. A case that will not have any loopholes that would force a judge to readjourn the court again without a verdict. Think of it as a joint operation, my friend. We are helping our colleagues with this, don't you see?" Jungkook continued his tour, eyes everywhere, refusing to leave anything to luck, "and while we're at it, I don't see why we shouldn't play with the cubs until we have the lion's attention. It would be a shame to pass on it if you ask me."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, if this person is the one I'm looking for and for a sheer chance he happens to escape my gavel, I will make sure he does not escape my hammer. It's as simple as that, Namjoon."

But Jungkook was in the dark, he did not know that this lab had been emptied and the camp had been moved to another location. Yes. He was groping in the dark, just like you, not knowing that he was closing the distance and consuming your secrets bit by bit, chewing the essence out of them and spitting it out after it reached and settled in the brain.

You had taken the liberty of emptying the store when you exiled the shopkeeper after discovering the great betrayal. It was not planned, but it was still a wise decision. The location had changed, but that didn't mean a standstill in activities despite the chaos. For now, you were the one to preside over the business, to preside over your exiled friend, too, and that's another thing Jungkook shared with you when it comes to your mutual lack of knowledge.

Perhaps it was for the best. For both of you.

Or so you preferred to think as you threw your big black coat over your shoulders, slammed the front door behind you, and got into your car. All your calls went straight to voicemail when you tried to reach your husband, and while that didn't really make you angry, it did encourage you to inquire about the well-being of your secrets, even though just an hour before, you were so against the idea, keen about spending a normal night in the embrace of your normal husband and the cocoon of lies that spread warmth around your shivering body.

The journey was not long, which also helped you decide to take on this task, reckoning that you would make a lame excuse for your absence and be back home to welcome your husband in less than fifteen minutes. The streets were eerily empty, and you wished to avoid random police control; the alcohol meter would not be lenient if you were to blow your breath on it. The song on the radio brought back some old memories to your mind, and though they were always painful and better trapped in your amygdala, they never used to be so relentless; in fact, the memories of her used to be a slight shadow of clarity before you realized that what had led her to where she was now was nothing but you.

Yoon-hui, or as you knew and always called her, Bella, might still be very much alive now if you had restrained yourself from following a shallow hope into the fading shadows of a scorching night. You'd blame it on youth if you didn't believe in fate, and how you wished you could fool your brain at times like this. If your memory doesn't fail you, it was almost seven years ago when she came to the counter and sat down on the stool next to you. She watched your tears with discreet glances that did not go unnoticed by your angry and bloodshot eyes, and when you turned to give her a piece of your mind, she turned to the bartender and silenced you before you could say a word. "Give us two of whatever she's having."

You giggled as you maneuvered the vehicle and turned right after the left turn you'd taken. She was bold, daring, bright, everything her brother was not. It was really strange that two people who came from the same womb were such opposite poles. You wondered if you too were the polar opposite of someone who shared the same fluids and DNA with you.

The GPS reported that you would reach your destination in less than ten minutes, and you found the interruption to your train of thought anything but pleasant. Turning up the volume with your hand, you reveled in the years-long gone and the past that was the polar opposite of your present.

"Nothing is worth the tears, sweetness. Here, swallow the pain with your poison of choice, and let's shake it off on the dance floor."

And you wonder to this day how those flippant words from an apparent teenager who didn't know the first thing about your life made you swallow the pornstar martini in one gulp and follow her as she put her words into action and led you to the dance floor. You had a point to make at that time, but when you think about it now, it was all meant to happen from the beginning.

"Who the fuck do you think you are to lecture me?" Your hand had already grabbed her wrist and pulled her back so she could see what demons swam in your eyes. But she laughed; not mockingly and insultingly, no; she laughed without malice, grabbing your hand that held her wrist and holding it between hers while her eyes spoke before her mouth could, "I saw your feat earlier; he didn't deserve you, if you ask me. Besides, I think it's a bit shabby to go after him when he's made it clear that his choice was on another side. I'm trying to preserve your dignity here, believe me."

It was the only time in your life that you found a spark of positivity in a bad situation, and you wished you had the chance to tell her that she taught you how in a world where you taught yourself everything without ever leaning on the generosity of others.

But you never thanked her, and now the chance was gone.

You parked outside your library, and after a discreet inspection of your props, you deactivated the alarm and walked in without turning on the lights. It was not until your feet took you to the back of the store that you made use of the flashlight in your cell phone. You clamped the device between your lips as you knelt down, keeping your hands free to pull the carpet away a little so you could operate the hidden handle of the wooden door that led to the underground storage room.

Your customers knew nothing of this hidden and well-guarded surface, nor did the landlord or your husband, for that matter. It was your secret sanctuary, something you created on instinct and never thought you would actually use. It was supposed to become your home in case Jungkook asked for a divorce after finding out you couldn't give him any offspring to carry on his legacy. You didn't build it, but when you found it after you resumed work after your first miscarriage, you set about making it usable. It was nothing more than a habitat for rats and cockroaches. When you saw the condition of the building, you figured out why the real estate agent didn't know of its existence; perhaps the landlord had never seen it to communicate such a detail to the agency. No wonder, the building was old, a holdover from the war and had actually been left unused for many years before the previous owner decided to get rid of it when taxes skyrocketed.

The small staircase led you to the first room, which was directly to your right after you descended. You turned off the flashlight and made do with the light coming from the room at the end of the hallway. You let out a sigh and patted your coat to get rid of the dust that clung to it. You wrinkled your nose at the strong smell of cigarettes, which had no place in the already misty storage.

"How many times do you want me to repeat myself?" you shouted, running your fingers through your curls, with the sort of irritation that was also audible in your voice as well, "this is a fucking underground storage, Taehyung. If you smoke here, the smell will reach the bookstore, too."

The distress wasn't something you were suffering from alone; in fact, Taehyung would say that his situation was the worst if you were to weigh yours down. He stormed back and forth in the small room, one hand on his hip, the other on his chin. His despair filtered through to you, but you thought that the lack of freedom had turned off the last sensible neurons in his brain.

You ashed the cigarette that was fuming over the ashtray and started throwing the scattered clothes into the suitcase that was lying on the floor. When you failed to get his attention or calm his nerves, you realized that maybe your thoughts weren't right, and that's when your instinct told you to pray.

Pray.

Your spine straightened as you dropped the shirt in your hand on the floor and walked towards the man. You grabbed him firmly by the wrist, and as he looked you straight in the eye, you thought about how events were repeating themselves, albeit in a different setting and with different moods. "What's the matter, Taehyung?"

"I fucked up, Cass," the timbre of his voice was enough to make you realize the magnitude of the situation; no further explanation was needed. A sigh was let out as he sat across the small table and slid his hand between his midnight curls. You waited patiently for him to back up his words, wishing that what was to follow could be less complicated than what you had already come to terms with and what it seemed to be.

Taehyung lit another cigarette, and somehow, you didn't have the strength to berate him this time, "I destroyed my credit card before I left the lab, and I swear I put the remains in my wallet, but it seems like half of it fell somewhere; I can't find it, Cassie. What should I do? What should we do, Cass?"