No Going Back

12

Hence to fight and conquer in all your battles is not supreme excellence; supreme excellence consists in breaking the enemy's resistance without fighting.
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The Art of War
Sun Tzu

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Exhaustion weighed down Jungkook's body, but at one in the morning, it had yet to claim his mind.

He was currently lying in bed, eyes trained upwards on the beam-lined ceiling. Pale moonlight trickled in through the windows, the sheer curtains dancing as a soft breeze entered the room.

It was peaceful, quiet in a way Jungkook never experienced in his old home. He was used to the bustling sounds of a neighborhood, with cars and people passing by at all hours of the night. But with the bed and breakfast so far from downtown, he could hear the throaty chortles of tree frogs and the musical chirps of crickets. 

Everything was so serene.

Everything except Jungkook. 

Being here, back in the city he left just a couple of days ago, caused a dizziness to wash over his senses. Busan was a cage, a personal cage constructed to hide Jungkook away from the world. For three years, he was essentially locked inside of his house, forbidden from going anywhere unless escorted. He was constantly starved for normalcy and interaction with the outside world.

Namjoon was the only person who had the key to set him free, but he explained why that couldn't happen. It isn't safe, his brother would lecture, people could use you to get to me. You need to lay low, stay out of my way, and everything will be fine. 

Jungkook respected his brother too much to ever question his directives. And besides, he knew there were numerous enemies out there who wouldn't hesitate to play dirty. If they wanted to distract Namjoon in order to target someone else, they'd naturally turn to holding any of his loved ones hostage. And while Jin could sufficiently take care of himself, one person could not.

Jungkook. 

And Jungkook knew he couldn't truly protect himself, not when he relied upon his muscles while his opponents used guns. He spent time crafting his body into the best weapon possible, but he wouldn't stand a chance if someone came after him with bullets. He begged Namjoon to teach him how to use a gun, but his brother repetitively shot down the idea. He argued there would be no need for Jungkook to utilize a gun if he listened and stayed inside, away from any possible danger.

So Jungkook listened. After all, his brother - while often overbearing - truly did have his best interest in mind. Namjoon was the only one to look out for him, the only one to shower him with attention and praise. 

But now Namjoon was gone. Jungkook's sole source of comfort, protection, and love was gone.

Running his hands over his face, Jungkook attempted to push down the wave of grief bubbling to the surface. It had taken everything he had to ignore his pain over these last few days, but the stillness of this peaceful lodge allowed his mind to run rampant. 

With no distractions to help him forget, Jungkook began to crumble.

As quietly as possible, he pushed back the soft linen sheets and rolled out of bed. He walked towards the balcony, too choked up on pain to spare the sleeping Taehyung a glance. Every thought in his head was centered around the despair slicing through his chest, with no room to gawk at the half-naked bodyguard. So he carefully slipped outside and sunk into a chair, wrapping his arms around his knees.

And he broke down.

The anguish inside of him raged with a vengeance, a blinding red and searing heat that coursed through his veins. Because he didn't want to scream - didn't want to voice his devastation aloud - the only way to let the turbulent emotions escape his body was through tears. So he cried, allowing the salty liquid to coat his cheeks silently.