Heartless || •OG• ✔️

Chapter 22 - Jimin

Tears stained his cheeks, his knees tucked against his chest as the beams holding up the watchtower surrounded him. It seemed like they were laughing at him, mocking him for the memories that kept plaguing his mind. It didn't help that Jericho was there. Jimin didn't mean to fall asleep, but he had such little sleep the past few weeks that it happened naturally. That may have been the only time he had ever fallen asleep quickly.

"Nightmare?" Jericho asked without so much as glancing at him. The rapid breaths Jimin was letting out must have clued the older man in, Jericho's eyes staying on the clearing below the watchtower. Jimin got to his knees and peeked over his side. There was nothing, as usual. Just the rest of the hideout. No activity, and what seemed like no life.

Jimin attempted not to break down or have a panic attack. That task was nearly impossible, his knuckles going pale as he clutched the surface ahead of him. What he saw was her face in his mind's eye, flashing into his vision as if it were real.

Although conscious now, Jimin swore he smelled smoke. He swore the scars on his body weren't scars, rather fresh wounds that happened minutes ago. When he raised his shirt to stare at the white pile of flesh on his toned stomach, he realized he was allowing the past to seep into the present.

The fabric dropped, and Jimin went back to peering over the land. He realized he didn't answer Jericho, but Jimin had a feeling the silence confirmed Jericho's question anyway. So, he sat on his knees, his hand tapping idly on the floor beneath him.

"I'm sorry you had to see that," Jimin said, his voice hoarse.

"I'm sorry too."

"What are you sorry for?"

"That you have to apologize for having emotion. For having pain," Jericho replied, and those words were what got Jimin to spin and face the man.

For a moment, Jericho kept his eyes on the scenery. Jimin's gaze didn't leave the back of his head. Finally, Jericho met Jimin's irises with his hardened ones. They were shaped by years of leading a dangerous organization, and Jimin was sure Jericho was shaped by this fiasco too.

"Has Charlotte ever told you how I got here? Into Hakai and promoted through the ranks?" Jimin asked, his mind screaming at him for daring utter the words. There was still a chance he could back out, but when Jericho shook his head, Jimin knew it was far too late.

"She said it was a story you should tell yourself. Something about it not being her secret to tell."
Jimin couldn't argue with that. Part of him was grateful. Explaining his situation was difficult, but he did his best to have his eyes speak. Of course, Jericho couldn't read Jimin's mind, which led to Jimin slumping his shoulders and placing a hand on his forehead.

"You don't have to tell me, but if you do, I'll listen and won't judge you," Jericho said.

The air felt dry as it hit Jimin's face, his nose grimacing from the scent of muck the wind carried. Or maybe that was his mind playing more tricks on him. It didn't help that it tasted that way too. Even sitting out in the air had Jimin feeling like he was captured by a sea of pollution creeping on the tips of his senses.

Trusting Jericho with information like his past seemed irrational to Jimin, but he hadn't spoken about it in years. Honestly, he couldn't recall a time when he did. Charlotte was there for it, she didn't need an explanation. No one else ever asked, not even Kayden. Not that it mattered. Jimin wouldn't have told him either way.

"I was 20 when I joined," Jimin said, and he swore a crack of thunder sounded off in-sync with his words. "5 years ago now. I was raised by parents who were in the mafia. Not sure which, never bothered to ask. They're long gone by now. The point is that I ran away from home when I was 16. Dropped out of high school, ran off into the woods to live with the one I loved. For 4 years, I got peace. Then everything changed.

"I was foolish. I got too comfortable and careless. It turned out my parents found me and hid information on my property. Blackmail, maybe. Extra coins. I don't know. They hid it around my house. They used me as their little scapegoat. I'll never forget that day. We were in the kitchen, and I was showing her how to make rice cakes. For less than a minute, I went to use the bathroom. Left her to watch our ingredients while I left for less than a fucking minute. As soon as I got back, I couldn't even speak before the fires broke out. An explosive went off only a few feet away from her, and I couldn't save her in time.

"That was when Charlotte showed up. She brought me the man who caused it. The one who killed my baby girl. And I beat him to death with my bare hands. To this day I still don't regret it. He slaughtered someone who didn't deserve it. He..." Jimin trailed off, not noticing the liquid coating his face. "He killed my daughter."

Jericho froze at that, his posture completely still while both of them processed the words. "Daughter?" he asked, slowly.

"She was 4," Jimin whispered, his lower lip quivering. "They killed a fucking child for their own benefit. I was only 16 when Aria was born, her mother went off the pill without telling me and wanted nothing to do with parenting. She didn't have the heart to get rid of her, so she gave birth to my baby girl. I offered to take her, and her and I parted ways forever while I raised Aria in the woods. I worked nonstop to provide for us, but it was worth it to me. Running away was the best decision of my life, and I was so happy.

"I want to forget, but I can't. My throat still burns from the screaming I did that day. She was everything to me." Jericho came over and ignored the rest of their watch shift. Jimin knew that was an awful idea, but in the height of his emotions, he didn't care.

Staring at Jericho only broke Jimin more. His voice that was once steady cracked and crawled all over the sides of his mouth until whimpers poured out. What began as Jimin doing his best to tell the story shifted to his sobs echoing around the roof of the watchtower. Jericho embraced him as fast as he could, Jimin collapsing into his arms and allowing his vulnerability to show in front of the one he trusted the least.

"She was 4," Jimin said, his words hitching over themselves. "She was 4. She was only 4." Jericho rubbed his back, but the touch felt numb. Seconds ticked by. Seconds filled with Jimin's wails and Jericho's silence. He gained the courage to back away after what felt like 2 hours, and his jaw dropped. Jericho had tears on his face, his eyes averting from Jimin's.

"I can't imagine losing a child," he said as if that would explain the state of him. "I'm so sorry, Jimin. You should take the rest of the watch off, I'll be fine on my own. Get the sleep you deserve."

The cells in his body sprung around his veins and begged Jimin not to go. Jericho gave him a gaze that calmed his adrenaline, but he had to admit his legs still felt as though they were about to give out. With all his remaining strength, he stood. He was amazed he didn't fall over.

Jimin wasn't sure what else to say. Much to his awe, Jericho was wiping his cheeks and hiding his face. He went back to observing the land. Jimin was glad there were no alerts. Not that it mattered much anymore. If there were intruders, what were the odds their makeshift band of criminals could handle them?

"Take care of yourself, Mr. Seong," Jericho said like he was dismissing him. Jimin accepted the gesture and placed his foot on the outside of the tower. The stairs awaited him, and he took a deep breath before pushing off.

"You too, Mr. Novak."

~~~

Entertainment was scarce around the hideout. No technology meant no more TV shows or movies, and reading online was impossible. Jimin found a single comic book in one of the rooms, and he read it 15 times already. The Infinite Abyss was what it was called. As a kid, Jimin passed the time by reading comic books. He used to take money from his father's wallet and sneak out after school to buy comics for himself. Not that they ever noticed if he was in the house anyway, but he was paranoid about getting caught.

He was sitting at one of the tables that looked like it came straight out of his high school cafeteria. Long and narrow with stools attached to it. They were plastic and uncomfortable, squeaking each time he so much as breathed too hard. The wooden surface was dusty, but Asa cleaned them off to the best of his ability using the boxes of tissues he found around the place. Tissues, like everything else, were being rationed.

Jimin was alone in the kitchen, munching on his weekly bag of chips. They were sour cream and onion, which was always one of his least favorite flavors. He much preferred barbeque. For now, he didn't mind. Whatever got his stomach to stop grumbling.

Mere minutes ago, he was in his room with his makeshift punching bag. There was still sweat dripping down the sides of his head, bruises on his knuckles from the punching he did. His hands were covered with wrap, but even they were drenched. Locks of hair clamped on the side of his head, creeping down to his neck. Some of it even fell in his eyes and made him squirm.

The punching bag was made using garbage bags and extra pillows. He wrapped it up with duct tape and tied it to the ceiling fan. It wasn't perfect, and it was hardly a challenge, but Jimin wanted to keep training. Back when he lost Aria, the only thing that got his mind off of it was training constantly. Occasionally, he passed out from overworking himself and training too often without breaks or stops for water and food.

He turned the page and kept munching on the chips that felt like they were stinging his buds. He ignored the gross texture and focused on the book. Or, he wanted to. A small body came into his peripheral vision. She plopped down in the stool across from him and chuckled.

"The Infinite Abyss? An old man who sings and reads comic books. Nice to know what I'm getting into," Ariel said, but Jimin didn't reply. When he didn't, she huffed. "You know, I read the entire series as a kid." That had him lowering the edge of the book so he could lock eyes with her.

"You still are a kid."

"I meant a kid kid."

"You still are a kid kid," he replied, going back to reading. The color palette was impressive. Mixtures of cyan and violet sprang around each page. The characters were fighting the supervillain, and it was grim. One of the main characters died to sacrifice himself for the others, but if they didn't stop the villain now, that character's death would be in vain.

Storytelling was fascinating to Jimin. The idea that with just a pen and paper, an entire world could be formed. Part of Jimin considered becoming a writer when he was younger. Creating a world of superheroes that kids could enjoy. He considered it even more when he had Aria. She deserved an escape from reality. Jimin didn't want her to see how truly broken the world was. Yet he had hope that she would be the one to change it. How foolish had he become?

"I meant when I was 9. I read them all," she said, Jimin lowering the book again with his jaw dropped.

"This isn't exactly a kids book."

"Why? Because there's sex in it? Is that why you're reading it?" she asked, and he dropped the entire comic at that.

"If I could put you in timeout, I would. Don't talk about that kind of stuff."

"Oh, sorry. Is it reminding you that you've never had any?"

With that, Jimin stood and snatched his bag of chips along with the comic. The dim light of the kitchen bounced off his dark appearance, his tank top displaying the moisture on his bare arms. Ariel didn't react to his movement until he walked away. That made her hop up and follow. Jimin resisted the temptation to scowl at her.

"Who's your favorite character? You look like a Jade guy. Jade's pretty hot," she said. He didn't reply. "I'm gonna keep guessing. Is it Kara? Jashido? Oh, definitely Qisong. He's so badass!"

He glared. "No cursing."

"Oh come on, I'm trying to be friendly here. Give me something."

"You want me to talk about an adult comic book with a child?"

She hesitated as they went, and Jimin had to pry his natural instinct away. It was instinct to stop with her and see what was causing her mind to stir. Regardless, he kept going, and she followed as much as he wished she didn't. Then, she came a bit closer.

"Well... yeah. A little," she said.

"Am I that amusing?" he replied instead of answering her question, and she grinned.

"You give the best reactions, old man. Looks like you're stuck with me."

"I give up, I'm going to bed." He sped up, but Ariel followed closely. She was right on his tail until he made it to his room. Right when he was about to open the door, she cleared her throat. Jimin swiveled his head and quirked a brow, Ariel tilting her head at him.

"Why are you going to bed in the middle of the afternoon?" Her voice wasn't hostile or aggressive. It was genuine curiosity that had Jimin's irritation soothing itself. He considered her, leaning against the wall before he fired out the answer.

"I have the first night watch shift tonight, don't want to be tired for it. If you prove you're trustworthy, Charlotte and Jericho might give you a shift too. Hope you're observant, kid."

Jimin thought the conversation was over. There was nothing more to say. However, Ariel found something that made him halt his movements before he was halfway done with them. The bag of chips and the comic hung loosely in his grasp. Time stood still, her words bouncing around his mind.

"Observant enough to know you haven't been taking care of yourself," she said. "Hair hasn't been cut in probably... two? Three months? Dirt on your skin, so you haven't showered in at least a week, bit of a beard growing in, bags under your eyes. You know, instead of reading that comic book, you should probably shower and sleep."

The girl at the end of the hall didn't feel like an outsider in that moment. Jimin couldn't place his finger on it, but she seemed like she belonged more than him. Maybe even more than half the crew. It wasn't because she was raised by the mafia, or that she had the skills to fit in. No. It wasn't that, but Jimin wasn't sure what else it could be.

"It doesn't take a genius to see that," he said, using his free hand to swat the air. "Work on your skills. I'm also armed. Glo-"

"Glock 19, 15 rounds per mag. Hidden under your shirt on the front side of your pants. Yeah, I know." He stared at her with his eyes expanding more with each word she said. Then, she reached into her pocket. He jumped at that. A pocket knife waved in the air. It wasn't any larger than the palm of Ariel's hand, but it was enough that if they were in an emergency, it could help. "I'm armed too."

Without giving him a chance to reply, she shifted her weight to her heels and strolled away. Jimin watched the whole time. He watched until she was out of view, and when she was gone, he had a moment to realize what she said. And after, he went inside his room and kicked the door shut.

His bed called to him, so he plopped down. The punching bag was swinging back and forth as if it were being blown on. His dresser was filled with more dust than clothes, the carpet mushy from the sweat that leapt off his toes and found a new home in the floor. Meanwhile, the mirror across from him showed him the face of a monster. What was once a slim face with a wide nose and cheeks was now covered in sparse hairs, random patches of dirty skin, and eye bags. His natural flesh was a shade of tan that was more pale than dark, but the grime infested his body and made that once beautiful color a disgusting sight to behold.

Ariel's words were on repeat in his mind, especially when he drew out each second of his scan over himself and his body. During his scan, he noticed his muscles were thinner than they were a few months prior. He stared and stared and stared.

15 minutes later, he showered, shaved, cut his hair, and slept.

~~~
Remember to vote/comment/follow for more! Thanks for reading!