FIFTY-THREE

THE SOUND OF sneakers squeaking on asphalt and the dull thud of a basketball echoed under the streetlights. Jimin laughed breathlessly as he faked a left, spinning past Yoongi and driving toward the hoop.

"Not this time!" Yoongi called, his voice light and teasing, lunging to block the shot.  But Jimin was faster. He moved sharply, rising to shoot and sinking the ball cleanly into the net. He grinned as it swished, turning to meet Yoongi's mock glare.

"You've been practicing," Yoongi said, leaning down to catch his breath, his hands resting on his knees.Jimin shrugged, his grin widening.

"Or maybe you're just getting old."  "Old?" Yoongi's eyebrows shot up, his expression exaggeratedly offended. "Alright, kid, one more game. Winner gets bragging rights for a week."  "Make it two," Jimin teased, picking up the ball.

The two of them had spent countless nights like this, stealing moments of peace between missions. It was their ritual, their escape from the chaos of their lives.

Jimin wished they could stay like this forever: just him, Yoongi, and the rest of Bulletproof, his family. Safe, happy, and whole.

"Next time," Jimin had said as they packed up that night, Yoongi slinging an arm casually over his shoulder. "Let's do this again soon."

Yoongi smiled, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. "Yeah, next time."

The memory blurred, the sound of the basketball fading into something heavier, wetter.

The metallic tang of blood filled Jimin's nostrils as the present crashed over him like a wave.

Jimin kneels on the blood-soaked floor, cradling Yoongi's limp body in his arms. The elder's throat is torn, the gaping wound spilling crimson over Jimin's trembling hands.  "No," Jimin whispers, his voice cracking. "N-no."

Yoongi's body is heavy against him, his skin pale, his eyes half-lidded but still holding onto a flicker of consciousness. Jimin's chest tightens as if something is squeezing the air out of him.  This isn't supposed to happen.

"Yoongi," Jimin chokes, his tears falling freely now, mixing with the blood on his hands. "Please... please stay with me."  Yoongi's lips move faintly, but no words came out, just a weak gurgle as more blood spills from his mouth.

Jimin presses his forehead against Yoongi's, his entire being shaking.  The world around him is a blur of shouts, gunfire, and chaos, but none of it registered. Nothing else mattered.  Until a voice cut through the haze, sharp and desperate.

"He's going to die, Hyung!"  Jungkook's scream snapped Jimin back into reality like a slap to the face. His wide, tear-filled eyes dart to the younger, who was crouched nearby, firing relentlessly to keep the gang members at bay.

Jimin blinks, his breath hitching. "No," he whispers, shaking his head. "No, he's not."

His trembling hands move instinctively, lowering Yoongi to the ground as gently as he could. He presses his palms against the wound, trying to stop the bleeding. The blood was hot and sticky beneath his gloves, his vision blurring with tears as he fought to focus.  "Stay with me," he whispers, his voice breaking. "Don't you dare leave me, Yoongi."

Jungkook's voice broke throug again, sharp and commanding. "Hyung, I've got your back! Focus on him!"  Bullets flew around them, bouncing off walls and sending fragments of concrete scattering.

Jimin's heart races as he pressed harder on the wound, his fingers slick with blood.

Yoongi's lips move again, faintly, desperately. Jimin leans closer, tears spilling freely downn his face. "Don't talk," he begs, his voice cracking. "Don't waste your strength. You're going to be okay."

But Yoongi tried anyway, his voice no more than a wet rasp as blood bubbled in his throat. Jimin could read the words he was trying to form. He wanted to hear them for so long, but not now - not like this.

"Stop," Jimin says, his voice trembling. "Don't say it like it's goodbye. It's not g-goodbye."  Yoongi's head drops slightly, his strength fading fast.  "N-no," Jimin whispers, panic rising in his chest. "No, no, no."

Desperation clawed at him, raw and unrelenting. His powerrs, the thing he'd always seen as a curse, suddenly surges within him, a heat building in his palms.  Jimin lets out a scream, his voice filled with agony and fury as his hands began to glow. "Don't you die on me!"

Suddenly the glow intensifies, spreading from his hands to Yoongi's wound. The blood seems to respond, slowing, as if the very iron within it is bending to Jimin's will.

Jimin's mind flashed to Seokjin's words. Suddenly he remembered. People who have the power of iron manipulation can eventually control blood as well.

Hope flares in his chest, shaky and fragile. He focuses everything he has, his hands trembling as he concentrated on the blood flow. Slowly, agonizingly, the bleeding beginning to slow. "He's still breathing," Jimin whispered to himself, his voice a mix of relief and determination.

Jungkook's voice came through the headset, strained but steady. "Bomber we need medical help now. Third room in the back." The younger has managed to clear the place as he was now standing next to Jimin.

"Ace, stay with him," Jimin says, his voice firm despite the tears streaming down his face. "Don't let him go." Jungkook nods, moving closer to cover Yoongi with his body as Jimin stood. Rage bubbled beneath Jimin's skin, hot and unyielding. The sight of Yoongi lying there, barely clinging to life, inflamed something primal within him.

His fists clenches, his powers surging uncontrollably as he steps into the chaos.

The air felt heavier now, charged with his fury and grief. As Jimin moved through the floor, his powers responds to his emotions, sparking and crackling in the air around him. He never thought he would use his abilities like this. His steps are deliberate, his senses sharp as he hunts through the floor. He feels the pull of the metal around him, the way it vibrates with the energy he was channeling. Bullets whiz past him, some grazing his arms and legs, but he doesn't feel the pain. All he feels is the heat of his anger and the raw force of his powers as they erupt from him.

Knives, shards of metal, and debris flew through the air, controlled by his iron will. The gang members fell one by one, their weapons ripped from their hands and turned against them.  He is unstoppable, a force of nature, his powers cutting through the gang like a storm.  Jimin's eyes burn with tears, his chest heaving as he tore through the last of the gang members.

His mind is a blur of fury and grief, his focus narrowing to a single point: the leader.

Jimin could feel the faint trail of the leader, his injured shoulder leaving droplets of blood behind. When he finally found him, the man was leaning against a wall, clutching his wounded shoulder. His mask still covered his face, but his movements were sluggish, his strength fading.

Jimin's powers surged again, iron and steel responding to his call as he pursued the man. He caught up quickly, his rage giving him speed.

The mask still covers his face, but soon his movements became sluggish, his strength waning.

Jimin didn't hesitate. He reaches out with his powers, and the iron clasps of the mask snaps with a sharp metallic twang. The mask falls to the ground, revealing the man's face—a face twisted with pain and rage, but also a flicker of fear.

"You've caused enough pain," Jimin says, his voice cold as he steps closer.

The leader spits blood onto the floor, glaring up at him. "You think you're any different? You think you're some kind of hero?"

Jimin's jaw tightens, but he doesn't respond.

The leader mocks, trying to appear defiant despite the trembling in his hands. "You're just another pawn. Another tool for the system. They'll use you, chew you up, and spit you out like they do with everyone else."

Jimin's gaze doesn't waver. "I used to think that way," he says quietly, his voice steady. "I used to believe the system was broken beyond repair, that everyone in power was corrupt, and that nothing would ever change."

The leader smirks, his expression triumphant as if he'd struck a nerve. But Jimin wasn't finished.

"I was wrong," he continues, his voice firm. "Not everyone is evil. Not everyone deserves to suffer. There are people worth fighting for. People who prove that this world isn't beyond saving."

He steps closer, towering over the man. "But you? You're not one of them. You can rot in hell."

The leader's eyes widened as Jimin raises his hand, his powers flaring to life. The metal around them begins to hum, a tangible manifestation of Jimin's anger and grief.

"You think killing me will change anything?" the leader shouts, his voice trembling now.

"No," Jimin says, his voice cold. "But it'll make me feel better."

He brought his hand down, the energy crackling as it surged toward the man—

"Argent!" Namjoon's voice crackles through the headset, sharp and commanding. "Stand down. That's an order."

Jimin froze, his breath hitching. His hand trembles as the energy dissipated, leaving the room in tense silence.

"We need him alive," Namjoon continues, his voice firm but laced with urgency. "It's enough. Walk away."

Jimin clenched his jaw, his entire body trembling with suppressed rage. He looked down at the leader with disgust. With a final flick of his wrist, Jimin sends a shard of metal flying toward the man's head—not to kill, but to knock him out. The leader slumps to the ground, unconscious and defeated.

Jimin stood there for a moment, his chest heaving as the adrenaline began to fade. His powers slowly leaving him.

He turns and begins to walk back toward Yoongi, his legs heavy but his resolve unwavering.

-

A/N: Hello again :)

Hope you liked this chapter, I think it turned out pretty okay! Sorry for possible mistakes!

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Thanks for your support & love for this book! See you soon in the next chapter! <3