The cold, suffocating walls of the cell seemed to inch closer with every passing hour, their grayness seeping into Yoongi's mind. The harsh fluorescent light overhead flickered occasionally, casting long shadows that stretched like claws across the cracked concrete floor. Time felt distorted here rushing past him but leaving him trapped, stuck in the same moment, the same nightmare.

His hands rested limply on his knees, wrists faintly bruised from the tightness of the handcuffs earlier. His mind was a storm of thoughts, all circling back to one person. Jimin.

Yoongi's heart clenched. Jimin hadn't come. Not even once. He knew by now Jimin must've been informed about his arrest. The thought of Jimin believing he is a murderer felt heavier than the chains of the accusations themselves.

His mind drifted to Yura, his sister, lying on a hospital bed, recovering from her surgery. He hadn't even been able to check on her, to hear her voice, to know if she is okay. He promised her he will be there infront of her when she will wake up.The helplessness gnawed at him like a slow, relentless ache.

But his spiral of thoughts was abruptly interrupted when the metallic clang of the cell door echoed through the corridor. He looked up, his vision slightly blurry from exhaustion. Two familiar figures rushed in, escorted by a guard Hoseok and Namjoon.

Yoongi's heart twisted at the sight of them.

"Yoongi!" Hoseok's voice broke the oppressive silence as he rushed forward, gripping the cold bars tightly. His face showing discomfort, disbelief etched into every line. "What the hell is going on? This can't be true!"

Yoongi stood up slowly, his legs weak from sitting for too long, his face bruished from the torture of past night. He approached the bars, his eyes hollow, but when he saw Hoseok's face, filled with concern, not judgment, a crack formed in his fragile composure.

"I didn't do it, Hobi," Yoongi whispered, his voice raw, as if he'd been screaming silently in his head for days. "I didn't kill Jihoon."

Namjoon stepped closer, his jaw clenched, eyes sharp with both confusion and worry. "Everyone knows by now, Yoongi. The news spread like wildfire. They're saying you're the murderer." He paused, searching Yoongi's face for answers. "But I don't believe it."

Hoseok's grip tightened on the bars, "Neither do I. I know you. Since we were kids. You're not capable of... of this." His voice stern filled with confidence.

Yoongi's throat tightened. For the first time in days, someone believed him.

"I lied to Jimin," Yoongi admitted quietly, guilt dripping from every word. "I worked for Zack. He hired me to... to distract him from the case. But I didn't kill Jihoon. I swear on everything I have, I didn't."

Namjoon's eyes darkened with realization. "That's why Jimin hasn't come, isn't it? He thinks you did it."

Yoongi nodded slowly, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I called him... so many times before I was arrested. He never answered."

Hoseok took a deep breath, "Listen, I already talked to my dad. He's pulling some strings. He's arranging a lawyer to fight for you."

Yoongi's breath hitched. "Your dad...?"

"Yeah," Hoseok nodded firmly. "You're not alone in this. We're going to get you out."

Yoongi's knees nearly buckled from the weight of those words. For days, he'd felt like the walls were closing in, but Hoseok's voice cracked them open just a little.

Namjoon's gaze softened, though his voice remained steady. "But you need to help us too. Tell us everything about Vortex, Zack, every detail you can remember. We'll find a way to prove your innocence."

Yoongi swallowed hard, gripping the bars tightly, his knuckles turning white. "I will. I'll tell you everything."

But deep inside, beneath the flicker of hope, is an ache that no words could heal - Jimin.

Would he ever believe him? Would he ever look at him the same way again?

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A dull ache throbbed in every corner of Jimin's body, pulling him back from the suffocating darkness he'd been floating in. His eyelids felt heavy, as if stitched together with exhaustion, but slowly, painfully, he forced them open. The ceiling above was all too familiar the faint cracks, the fading paint, the same view he'd stared at countless nights as a child.

Home.

For a brief, disorienting moment, he didn't understand how he got there. The last thing he remembered was... the cemetery. Cold grass beneath him. His brother's name etched in stone.

Jimin tried to sit up, but his muscles protested sharply. Just then, footsteps rushed towards him. His mother's face appeared, her features soft with relief. She cupped his face gently, her hands cool against his fever-warmed skin.

"Jimin, thank God," she whispered, "You scared me. You've been out for almost two days."

"Two... days?" Jimin croaked, his throat dry and scratchy. His lips felt cracked.

"Yes. We almost hospitalized you, but the family doctor managed it here," she explained, brushing his hair back from his sweaty forehead. "You had a high fever." Her voice softened, her thumb gently stroking his cheek. "You were burning up."

Jimin's eyes fluttered shut for a second. He forced his eyes open again, struggling to focus.

"How... how did you find me?" His voice was barely above a whisper.

A grin tugged at the corner of his mother's lips, "Tzuyu," she said warmly. "She searched everywhere for you. Wouldn't stop until she found you."

His mother reached for the bedside table and picked up his phone, holding it out to him. "Here. Found beside you. You must delete every remains of your past life from it. Mostly one name you muttered over and over again." Her eyes darkened slightly, her smile fading. "Yoongi."

At the mention of that name, something inside Jimin twisted a sharp, bitter knot of anger, betrayal, and unbearable sadness.

His mother's voice grew firmer, her gaze steady. "Delete everything. Everything related to your... previous life. There's no need to keep any of it. It's your new beginning baby.....with us just like it should have been always."

Jimin stared at the phone in her hand, his fingers twitching slightly. His heart felt heavy, as if a thousand memories were pressed against it, begging to stay.

Without a word, he reached out, his hand trembling slightly as he took the phone. The screen lit up, blindingly bright against the dim light of his room. Missed calls. Messages. Names. Namjoon, Hoseok, Yura and Yoongi. All fragments of a life he'd thought was his.

His thumb hovered over the contacts.

His heart clenched, a flicker of something, hope? longing? but he swallowed it down. He blocked and deleted each contact anything anyone who has anything to do with Yoongi.

His chest felt hollow. But isn't this what he needed? To erase Yoongi. To erase the lies.

His mother leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. "Perfect, welcome back baby."

Jimin didn't reply. He just stared at the now-empty screen, wondering if deleting a number could really delete the ache it left behind.

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The dim light flickered overhead, casting long shadows on the cold, cracked walls of the small cell where Yoongi sat. A week had passed, though it felt like a lifetime. Each hour bled into the next, marked only by the occasional clang of metal doors and muffled voices echoing through the corridors. The once vibrant hum of his life had been replaced by suffocating silence.

Yoongi sat hunched on the hard bench, his fingers tracing invisible lines on the cold concrete floor.

The heavy door creaked open, pulling Yoongi from his spiral. A man in a crisp suit stepped in, briefcase in hand, followed closely by Hoseok and Namjoon. Yoongi's heart leaped at the sight of familiar faces, but it was fleeting. His eyes instinctively darted past them, searching hoping for someone who wasn't there.

Jimin.

But reality hit him like it had every day for the past week. Jimin wasn't coming.

The lawyer cleared his throat, breaking the heavy silence. "Min Yoongi?" His voice was formal, precise. "I'm Lee Dae-Ho, the attorney arranged by Mr. Jung's family. I'm here to discuss your case."

Yoongi barely nodded, his throat dry.

Dae-Ho opened his briefcase, pulling out a thin stack of papers. "Your situation is... complicated. The fact that you were involved in multiple illegal activities, drug deliveries,underground betting, association with criminal organizations like Vortex that will severely damage your credibility in court." His words were blunt, clinical. No room for false comfort. "And the evidence found in your apartment the attire matching the CCTV footage, the suspicious transactions makes it worse."

Yoongi's heart sank deeper with every word. He clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms.

"But I didn't kill Jihoon," he whispered, his voice fragile. "I I lied to Jimin, yes. I manipulated him. I took the contract to distract him... but murder? I didn't do that. I swear."

Dae-Ho sighed, removing his glasses and rubbing his temple. "I believe you. But belief isn't enough in court. We need proof Yoongi. Solid, undeniable proof."

Yoongi's last thread of hope seems to break slowly hearing the truth from his own lawyer.

Hoseok leaned forward, his own eyes lack of hope. "Yoongi, we'll figure this out."

Namjoon nodded beside him, his jaw clenched. "We'll keep looking. There has to be something we're missing."

But Yoongi wasn't listening anymore. His mind drifted again to the one person whose belief mattered the most.

Jimin.

His heart thudded painfully as he turned to Seokjin, who stood quietly near the door, arms crossed, observing everything with that sharp detective gaze. Yoongi's voice came out as a desperate whisper.

"Officer Seokjin... please. Let me call him. Just once." His voice cracked.

Seokjin's expression didn't waver. He sighed, his gaze softening just a fraction. "I tried, Yoongi. But Jimin doesn't want to see you. He said he has nothing to do with you anymore"

The words hit harder than any punch.

"Nothing to do with you anymore"

Like those words sealed the final nail in the coffin of what they had.

Yoongi didn't speak after that. The lawyer's voice faded into the background, Hoseok's comforting words a distant echo. When the door finally closed, leaving him alone again, Yoongi crumbled. His body folded into itself, and the sobs came raw, broken, and endless.

He cried until his throat was sore, until his tears ran dry, until there was nothing left but emptiness.

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The day dawned gray and cold, as if the sky itself mourned the verdict yet to come. The walls of the prison cell seemed narrower than usual, pressing down on Yoongi like the weight of his guilt, his innocence, his lies, and everything in between.

Today isn't just another day it is the day. The one that would decide whether he walked free or remained caged, not just by iron bars but by the shadows of a crime he swore he didn't commit.

Jimin didn't come to meet him even once instead everytime he tried either through Namjoon or Hoseok it failed. Even he begged Seokjin several times to help him contact Jimin these past days. All he got in return are his shattered hopes packed in harsh truths.

Jimin doesn't want to see him.

But the one who tried to contact Yoongi several times all these past days returned empty handed. Yura.

Seokjin informed how his phone under their watch keeps ringing every few minutes. Yet Yoongi couldn't bring himself to face her. How could he? He is a criminal. Even if he hadn't killed Jihoon, the weight of his past sins are enough to make him deserving of punishment.

Yoongi sat on the narrow bench, staring at his trembling hands. The faint sound of footsteps echoed in the corridor outside, growing louder with each second until the door creaked open. Hoseok and Namjoon stepped in, their faces tense, dressed in muted colors as if trying to match the somber mood.

"You ready?" Hoseok asked softly, though they all knew no one could ever be ready for this.

Yoongi didn't respond. Instead, his mind wandered to the past few days the endless, sleepless nights,the relentless interrogations, the constant beatings to make him confess something he never did, the cold meals left untouched.

And yet, beneath the exhaustion and pain, one thought stood out above the rest, today, he will see Jimin.

Hoseok broke the silence, his voice hesitant, "We went to see Yura yesterday."

Yoongi's eyes snapped up, the name pulling him from his daze. "How is she? Did she ask about me? You didn't say anything right?" His voice was rough, unused.

"She's recovering well," Hoseok replied, offering a small, forced smile.

Then, his expression darkened. "But she was crying, Yoongi. You're all she has. She believes in you. she knows you can never kill anyone. But she still feels guilty because she thinks every other thing you've done... all of it, was for her. She even tried reaching out to Jimin, but it seems like he's blocked her too."

"She shouldn't feel guilty," Yoongi muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "None of this is her fault."

Hoseok let out a heavy sigh. "I don't know what to tell her anymore. Every time Namjoon and I visit, she asks the same thing, begs to see you, even though she's still too weak. And every time... I don't have an answer for her, Yoongi. I just don't know."

Yoongi swallowed hard, staring at the cold floor beneath him. "Tell her..." He hesitated, his throat tightening. "Tell her I'm sorry. Tell her to stop worrying about me and focus on getting better. That's all that matters now."

Hoseok watched him for a moment before nodding. "I'll tell her," he said softly. But even as the words left his lips, they both knew, it wouldn't be enough.

Namjoon cleared his throat, his voice steady. "There's something else you need to know, Yoongi."

Yoongi's gaze flickered toward him, tired yet cautious.

"When we visited yesterday, the nurses mentioned something," Namjoon continued. "Jungkook's been handling all of Yura's medical expenses. He visits her too. And..." He paused, as if weighing his next words. "He's already spoken to the hospital authorities. Once she's fully recovers, if you don't come back... he plans to take her in."

Yoongi exhaled slowly, the weight on his chest easing, if only slightly. Jungkook... He hadn't expected this. "I'm grateful to him," he murmured.

But Namjoon and Hoseok didn't respond immediately. There was a pause, heavy and sharp. Then Hoseok spoke, carefully choosing his words.

"That's the thing, Yoongi," Hoseok said, crossing his arms. "If you really did kill Jihoon, Jungkook's past lover why is he helping you? Shouldn't he be furious? Shouldn't he hate you?"

Yoongi blinked, confusion flickering in his eyes. He had been too wrapped in his own despair to question it before.

"I thought... maybe he's doing it for Yura," he whispered, the words barely holding their weight. "We were close... maybe he felt that by taking care of her, he could help me too."

But even as he said it, the explanation felt hollow.

"Or maybe it's something else," Namjoon pressed gently. "Doesn't it seem odd? Why would he go out of his way for the guy accused of murdering someone he loved?

There can be only two answer to it. Either he believes you didn't kill Jihoon. But again if it is true why he didn't visit you once.

Or he is guilty and trying to do something good to ease his own conscience. To possibly hide something grave."

The warmth he'd felt toward Jungkook, the gratitude curdled into something unfamiliar. Suspicion.

Before he could dwell on it any longer, the guards arrived. "Time to go."

They three looked at each other one last time.

They cuffed Yoongi's hands, the cold metal biting into his skin, and led him down the sterile hallways. The courtroom awaited a place where truths gets twisted, where lies wear masks, and where Yoongi's fate is dangled by a thread.

As he walked, Hoseok's words echoed in his mind.

"If Jungkook truly believes you killed Jihoon, then why is he still helping you?"

And for the first time since his arrest, Yoongi felt something other than despair.

Doubt.