Russian Roulette || BTS X READER

Chapter One: Human Library

(Y/N) remembers the first time her mom told her they were going to move countries as she stood on the moving bus.

She was sitting down on the bed, flipping through an adult-leveled color book, deciding which page to color and what materials to use. Though, what clouded her mind was how she's going execute her work, wether to apply acrylic based paints to create a detailed, vibrant piece or pencils for a much simpler, black and white look. It didn't matter anyways. Before she could reach the mediums, a loud and distressed steps entered her peripheral hearing. Determining the course of her art work was the least of her problems and she knows that...

Days prior to the shocking revelation of moving countries, she witnessed her mother and father fighting— verbally and almost physically.

"You said that you loved me!" Her mother screamed from the depths of her lungs, rage and disgust painting her face. "And I stupidly believed you. I believed you because I love you. I— I loved you..."

(Y/N) didn't understand it at first for she was only one-and-a-half-years-old, but seeing the gruesome sight of her two inseparable parents quarreling shifted something incomprehensible inside of her. She saw how cruel human beings could be— how one could manipulate and destroy one's heart with mere actions and words.

The young girl tilted her head; her eyes were blank and body motionless. She recalled her father saying that her mother was his soulmate and over the years, he became the core of her mother's personality. Then at that second, on that rainy day, he announce that he was in love with another woman.

Her mother said that it would've been kinder to kill her than to make her experience through that.

(Y/N)'s father nearly took those words seriously.

It was (Y/N) who stopped him before he could do damage to her helpless mother. Her little body, which just reached just below his knees, stood in front of him and her first word in this world was, "stop."

Her mother felt the dangerous aura that suffocated everyone in the room. She didn't even say any word, or even thought, or put on any shoes— she grabbed (Y/N), bolted out of the house and ran. Mrs. (L/N) endured the rough texture of the side walk and the pebbles that pierced the sole of her feet.

(Y/N) snapped out of her thoughts once the bus arrived to its destination.

"Good luck on your first day of school kids!" The old bus driver beams, his wrinkly hands waving goodbye to the students.

Some didn't return the gesture, but many did and (Y/N) was one them. "Thank you ahjussi!"

As she turns around, (Y/N) grips the straps of her backpack and followed the flock of students who had similar uniform as her.

Normally, her heart should start thumping erratically against her chest and her palms would begin to perspire, but she'd gone to countless of schools all around the world where the language and etiquette are different. She didn't have to shut herself off in her room for months or weeks, learning anything she could prior to the start of the school year, though, there was a required interview before getting accepted to this school.

"What do you consider yourself as, Miss (L/N)?" The principal questioned. He rests both of his elbows on top of his desk, body leaning forward, ecstatic to hear the female's answer.

Across from him, (Y/N) took a couple of seconds to gather her thoughts. She was apprehensive, not because she couldn't formulate a proper response, but because the previous questions had no correlations to this subject. She was asked about her academic records, the contributions she could bring to the school, and how she would utilize this school for her plans for the future. Yes, those were personal questions, but what the principal just inquired was too personal.