****** Warning : Violence ******

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The underground arena, dimly lit and pulsing with a mix of sweat, smoke, and adrenaline, came alive the moment Yoongi stepped inside. "AgustD! AgustD!" the crowd chanted, their voices a maddening echo. The excitement is palpable, the air heavy with the promise of violence.

Yoongi's boss, a burly man with a cigar in hand, watched him approach with a scowl. His anger is barely restrained. "You've got some nerve coming back here after all this time," he growled, his voice carrying over the noise of the arena.

Yoongi, clad in his usual black hoodie and white bandages wrapping his bruised knuckles, merely nodded. His face is pale, his eyes bloodshot and hollow. Namjoon stood off to the side, his unease growing with every second. Yoongi looked like a ghost of himself-thin, frail, like the wind could knock him over, let alone the hulking men he is about to face.

The boss spat on the ground. "I don't like quitters, but Namjoon begged me to let you in. Don't embarrass me, AgustD."

Yoongi's gaze didn't waver. "Just get me in the ring."

The matches began, and the crowd roared louder as Yoongi's name was announced. His opponent stepped into the ring-a man easily twice his size, muscles rippling under the dim light. The audience went wild, betting heavily against Yoongi.

Namjoon, standing at the edge of the ring, clenched his fists. He had seen Yoongi fight before, but this time was different. Yoongi's body screamed exhaustion, and his mind seemed miles away.

The bell rang.

Yoongi moved first, landing a quick jab to the opponent's side. The crowd cheered, but the man barely flinched. He retaliated with a powerful swing that Yoongi barely dodged. For a moment, it seemed like Yoongi was holding his ground, delivering sharp blows that made the crowd gasp.

Yoongi's movements were sluggish, his body reacting slower with each punch, each blow landing harder than the last. His mind, however, wasn't in the ring. It wasn't with the violence, the adrenaline, or the screaming crowd. It was still stuck on one thing-the words that Jimin had thrown at him the night before.

"You're a low-life criminal."

"You deserve loneliness."

"I hope your sister dies."

Those words cut deep, reverberating in Yoongi's mind like an unrelenting drumbeat, playing over and over, drowning out everything else. He could feel the weight of them sinking into his chest, each one a dagger twisting deeper into his soul. He isn't just fighting his opponent in the ring-he is fighting himself, fighting the guilt, the rage, the loneliness that Jimin's words had stirred inside him.

It is like everything he had buried deep inside him, all the pain, all the memories, are rising to the surface with a vengeance.

The punches he threw were half-hearted, disconnected. His opponent-huge, powerful, relentless-could sense it. Yoongi's arms felt like lead, his knuckles aching, his body betraying him. His vision blurred as Jimin's voice echoed in his head again, louder this time.

"You deserve loneliness."

"I hope she dies too"

Yoongi's breathe hitched, and for a split second, he almost staggered back, losing his balance. The crowd roared in response, but Yoongi could barely hear it anymore. His mind was too consumed by the cruel words, the sting of betrayal, the pain of knowing he had pushed Jimin to such a breaking point.

It didn't help that the match was rigged from the start. His boss, knowingly thrown him into the ring with even heavier, bulkier opponents than usual. They were more than capable of tearing him apart, and they did.

Cracks began to show.

The opponent's punches landed harder and faster, one catching Yoongi square in the jaw. His head snapped to the side, blood spraying from his mouth. He staggered but didn't fall, forcing himself upright as the crowd roared for more.

"Get your head in the game, Yoongi!" Namjoon shouted, desperation creeping into his voice.

Yoongi threw a wild punch that barely connected. His opponent grinned, seeing the weakness, and lunged. A massive fist collided with Yoongi's ribs, the sickening crack audible even over the cheers. Yoongi gasped, his body folding in pain, but he didn't go down.

Another blow to his stomach had him spitting blood onto the mat. He stumbled, his vision blurring, but he refused to stay down. The crowd's chants of "AgustD" grew faint in his ears, drowned out by the pounding of his own heartbeat.

The opponent grabbed him by the shoulders and slammed him into the ground. Yoongi's head hit the mat with a sickening thud, his body momentarily going limp. Namjoon's heart sank.

"Stop the match!" Namjoon yelled, turning to the boss. "He's done! End it!"

The boss waved him off. "He knew what he was signing up for."

The opponent wasn't done. He pulled Yoongi up by his hoodie and delivered a brutal knee to his ribs. Another crack. Yoongi's scream was muffled by the blood pooling in his mouth.

He tried to fight back-tried to lift his arms, to throw a punch-but his body wouldn't respond. The opponent saw the opening and landed a devastating blow to Yoongi's temple.

Yoongi crumpled to the ground, unmoving.

Namjoon's panic hit its peak. "Stop the damn match!" he screamed, shoving his way toward the ring. The audience, once ecstatic, now murmured uneasily.

The opponent loomed over Yoongi, waiting for him to move, but there was nothing. Yoongi lay there, blood dripping from his split lip and onto the mat. His chest barely rose and fell, his breaths shallow and uneven.

Namjoon finally reached the boss, grabbing him by the collar. "Call it off! He's going to die!"

The boss hesitated, the growing unrest in the crowd finally reaching him. With a wave of his hand, the bell rang, signaling the end of the match.

Namjoon rushed into the ring, dropping to his knees beside Yoongi. "Yoongi, come on, wake up!" he pleaded, his voice cracking. He pressed his fingers to Yoongi's neck, searching desperately for a pulse.

Yoongi didn't stir. His body lay broken and battered, blood staining the mat beneath him. Namjoon's hands trembled as he shouted for help, his heart pounding in his chest.

The crowd began to disperse, their cheers replaced by murmurs of unease. The once electrifying arena now felt cold and empty, the echoes of the fight lingering like ghosts.

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Jimin lay still on his bed, staring at the ceiling as his mind replayed everything that had happened. He couldn't help but feel how ironic it was to lose everything in an instant. His fight with Yoongi, the guilt over his words, the mess with the case-it was all so overwhelming. But amid all of it, there was something else, a feeling he couldn't shake off.

He isn't sure why, but something felt wrong. A deep sense of unease gnawed at him. He tried to ignore it, but the feeling wouldn't go away.

He couldn't stop thinking about Yoongi. He hadn't seen him today, and the last time they spoke, things had gone horribly wrong. Jimin kept hearing his own words in his head, the hurt he caused. His heart ached. Even though he is angry, even though he is hurt, a part of him still cared.

Something is wrong with Yoongi, he could feel it. And the worst part? He didn't know what and he can't even ask.

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The room is silent, save for the faint hum of the overhead lights. Officer Seokjin sat across from Jungkook, his expression stern, as the questioning began. Jungkook's eyes shifted nervously, his fingers tapping against the table, the weight of the situation sinking deeper with every passing moment.

"Tell me about your relationship with Jihoon," Seokjin started, his voice calm but firm. "Where were you the day of his... incident?"

Jungkook didn't hesitate. He knew better than to hide anything now, especially with Seokjin's piercing gaze on him. He spoke the truth, his voice steady despite the nervous flutter in his chest.

"Jihoon was my boyfriend," Jungkook said, swallowing. "We had a quarrel the day before. He was upset with me, and I... I didn't come to college that day. I just stayed home."

Seokjin nodded, making notes in his file, his eyes never leaving Jungkook's face. "And you're certain you were home all day?"

Jungkook nodded, his heart pounding harder as the minutes stretched on. "Yes, Officer. I swear. I didn't go anywhere."

Seokjin glanced on the table in front of Jungkook. "Keep your phone here" Seokjin ordered.

Jungkook hesitated for a moment, the unease creeping into his veins. Reluctantly, he handed over the device. Seokjin immediately began scrolling, pulling up the CCTV footage. Jungkook's heart skipped a beat as the video began to play.

The footage showed a man-dressed in dark clothing, his face masked-moving through a hallway, his gait deliberate.

Seokjin turned the phone towards Jungkook, his eyes narrowing. "Do you recognize this man?"

Jungkook's eyes widened. His mouth went dry. He couldn't speak for a moment, staring at the screen in disbelief.

The silence hung in the room, thick and suffocating. Seokjin didn't give him time to process.

"We'll be going to your house now," Seokjin continued, his voice cold. "We'll search your room. If we find anything similar to what this man is wearing in your room, Jungkook, you'll be in deep shit."

Jungkook's heart pounded in his chest, his thoughts spinning. "Officer, I-" he stammered, but the words died in his throat. There is no way out. He had nothing to defend himself with.

Jungkook sat frozen in the interrogation room, his thoughts spiraling into chaos. His parents aren't even in the state, and there was no one he could turn to. He felt utterly alone, the fear pressing down on his chest like a weight too heavy to bear. The quiet tap of Seokjin's pen on the table echoed in his ears, each sound a reminder of how helpless he was.

Finally, the door creaked open, and Seokjin gestured for him to follow. Jungkook stood on shaky legs, his heart hammering as he was escorted out of the room. His head hung low, shame and fear blending into a suffocating storm.

But then he saw him. Standing at the far end of the hallway, just outside the interrogation area, is Taehyung.

Jungkook's breath caught in his throat. His eyes stung as his gaze met Taehyung's, and for a moment, the weight on his chest lifted just a little. Taehyung's face is a mixture of anger and concern, his jaw tight as he took a step closer.

Before Jungkook could say anything, Taehyung closed the distance between them, pulling him into a firm, protective embrace. The warmth of Taehyung's arms made Jungkook's walls crumble, and for the first time that day, he felt a flicker of hope.

Taehyung's voice was low but steady as he whispered into Jungkook's ear, "It's going to be okay. I know you didn't do anything. I believe you, Jungkook. I'm here."

Jungkook clung to him, his hands trembling as he fisted the back of Taehyung's jacket. He wanted to believe him, to hold onto those words as if they could shield him from everything happening around him.

The moment was short-lived. A voice barked from behind them, breaking the fragile bubble of safety. "We need to go."

Jungkook felt Taehyung's grip tighten briefly before the officers stepped forward. Without another word, they pulled Jungkook away, dragging him toward the waiting van.

Jungkook glanced back, his eyes meeting Taehyung's one last time. Taehyung stood rooted in place, his fists clenched, his lips pressed into a thin line as he watched Jungkook being taken away.

As the van door slammed shut behind him, Jungkook's chest heaved. The image of Taehyung, standing there, silent but resolute, burned into his mind. He held onto that picture, the only source of strength he had left, as the vehicle lurched forward, carrying him toward the unknown.