red ; bts

fifty six ; jungkook

(Alternate Ending: 1/7)

Several weeks later.

"Boss? Boss, where are you going?" Jiyeol immediately gets up out of his chair as he spots you walking passed his office with the jingle of car keys accompanying the click of your heels. He rushes out into the hallway, furrowing his brows at your oddly formal attire. You've dressed nice for important meetings before, but never like you'd be going to work at some standard office building. "Don,"

"Stop being annoying, Jiyeol." You don't even bother turning around. It's time you do what you've been wanting to do since you left Jaeyong's place over a month ago. You're done feeling restless; you're done avoiding it. "I'll be back before midnight. If not, tomorrow. And if I'm not back by then, I'll—be with my father."

"Hang on, Don, wait." Jiyeol speeds up his step, trying to find a way to respectfully reach for your arm without you getting upset. "Ma'am, I really don't think you should go anywhere without—"

"Without you?" You stop and turn, making him halt abruptly as well. The young man stumbles back, realizing he'd stopped too close in his haste to try and keep your anonymity completely secured. "Jiyeol, if it's my name or my brother's threats you're so worried about, don't be. I know the risks and I know every consequence. Jayeong can't do anything to you or Maeli or Damyeon. No one in the streets can match my face with any name but Y/N and Yuri. They can't hurt me. You three are safe. I wouldn't do anything to jeopardize that."

"I know that, ma'am. Don't think that I don't trust you, it's my job to trust you." Jiyeol reaches into his pocket, "And it's also my job to keep you alive, which means I have to worry. We can't afford risks." He takes out a small item and wraps his fingers around it. "You're forgetting what's important." The stern-faced young man looks up to meet your eyes, holding out his hand and opening it to reveal a tranquilizer pod.

"You know you have—" You trail off, taking the new, small, potent weapon and turning it over with your thumb in your palm, "—some nerve.." You lose interest in the sentence completely, furrowing your brows. "Woah." You place the tranquilizer between your thumb and pointer finger, bringing it closer to your face for a better look. "When did these come in?" You ask, acknowledging the new codes and chemical inscriptions engraved in its small silver top. "Who brought them? Tasaku? Nakasuto?"

"Kiro Tasaku had the shipment arrive at the Northern House yesterday afternoon. Damyeon had the worker men look over every single good and he supervised everything through the cameras. We tried to locate you as soon as they arrived but," Jiyeol pauses, meeting your eyes as you look up, "your location was disabled. Again."

"And you couldn't inform me once I returned?" You furrow your brows, clutching the small weapon in your hands a little tighter as you lower it. Jiyeol's expression remains calm, a rare sight to see on a person when your tone shifts even the slightest bit. But not him. Jiyeol's a tough young man. He'd never let you see that you've intimidated him. In that way, he differs from his father. You respect that. He's an anomaly, like yourself.

"With all due respect Don," he lowers his chin, slightly shifting his jaw, "no. We couldn't have informed you." He answers, keeping his eyes low. Not out of fear, just forced 'respect', as you like to label it. "You disappear, come back, go straight to the Private Wing and leave us all hanging by a thread. At first, it didn't matter. It wasn't often. But now,"

"Now what?"

"Now it's interfering." Jiyeol looks up, knowing that's what you want him to do. You hate disrespectful confrontation, sure, but what you hate more than that is cowardice. Besides, this isn't disrespect, this is honesty. As bad as it may paint you, it's the truth. "We need you to run a network here, an entire Grid. You have to be accessible for that, Boss. Not gone for hours, nowhere to be traced or even reached. And if you need isolation, we get that, just communicate it. We can't be on edge all the time worrying about business we can't get you to fucking supervise. Make it work, organize yourself—with all due respect, every ounce of it."