Chapter Text
[For the first time since they had left the amusement park, they were behind a closed door. Here, at least, they had water. They had food.
They had a few minutes to breathe.]
No one sat down right away, they simply stood in the living room. Seven adults with ragged breathing, dirty clothes, and trembling hands.
The tension had not fully left them yet. Not after watching a bright, ordinary morning turn completely upside down in a matter of minutes. What had begun with laughter and plans for the day had dissolved into blood, panic, and unanswered questions.
Jeongguk was the first to react. He turned toward Seokjin and finally allowed himself to look. Really look. Not like during the drive, when he had forced his eyes onto the road just to stop himself from thinking too much. Fear, anger, relief—everything he had been holding back surfaced at once, though his attention lingered only briefly on Seokjin’s arm, on the skin Jimin had already checked and confirmed untouched, before he looked away again.
Namjoon still saw it. "Okay," he said at last, cutting through the tension and giving everyone an escape route. "Let's gather the supplies first. Water, food, medicine, spare clothes…"
Seokjin forced himself to focus. Here, behind locked doors and solid walls, Jeongguk's presence felt heavier. He steadied himself before answering. “The bottled water’s in the storage room beside the kitchen. Most of the food’s in the pantry. Medical kit are in the bedroom. There are flashlights and batteries by the front door too.”
Namjoon moved immediately. "Good. Let's see how much we're working with."
Taehyung sat on the sofa, phone still in hand. His hair, neatly styled that morning, had fallen out of place, loose bangs hanging over his forehead. “The signal’s completely gone.”
“Try sending messages first, not calls.” Namjoon opened the cabinet doors. “They’re more likely to go through if the signal comes back for even a second.”
Taehyung nodded.
Yoongi crossed the apartment checking each window lock before shutting the curtains completely. Anyone looking up from the street would see nothing—no lights, no movement, no proof the apartment was occupied. Rescue would come if it came. Until then, drawing attention to themselves felt reckless. Whatever was happening outside, the safest thing now was to stay unnoticed.
“Hyung.” Jimin looked at Seokjin. “The medical kkit is in the bedroom, right?”
“Yeah. I’ll get it.”
“I’m coming with you.”
Seokjin glanced back.
Jeongguk stood near the hallway, slipping a flashlight from the shelf into his pocket, his expression carefully blank. Nothing about him seemed unusual at first glance, but everyone in the room had known the two of them for far too long not to notice what was happening. Jeongguk had been waiting for this, for a chance to speak once they were finally alone.
No one commented on it. Seokjin only gave a small nod before heading toward the bedroom, Jeongguk close behind.
As soon as the door shut, the noise from the living room dulled into muffled voices and distant movement. Their bedroom remained dark, illuminated only by the pale beam of Jeongguk’s phone flashlight and the weak daylight slipping through the curtains.
The bed was still neatly made. A rabbit and an alpaca plush were piled in one corner. One black hoodie hung behind the door. On the bedside table sat a book Seokjin had not finished reading and a phone charger folded neatly in place.
Seokjin reached toward the shelf beside the wardrobe, fingers brushing the second row where the medicine kit sat. “We need to bring—”
“You almost got bitten.”
His hand stopped midair.
Seokjin closed his eyes.
During the entire drive back, Jeongguk had kept everything buried. Of course this was the moment he finally let it all out.
Seokjin turned slowly. “But I didn’t.”
Jeongguk's expression tightening almost immediately. “But you didn’t?”
Seokjin’s throat tightened. “I saved that child.”
“I know.”
“If I hadn’t moved—”
“I know.”
“Jeongguk-ah—”
“I know, hyung.”
Jeongguk’s voice rose before dropping again, regret flashing briefly across his face. He exhaled sharply. “I saw it. I saw everything.” He had seen the child fall. Seen Seokjin ran after her without a second thought. Seen those things reach for him. A hollow laugh followed. “And I also saw you almost get bitten.”
“Jeongguk—”
“Don’t.” Jeongguk shut his eyes, frustration etched across his face. “Don’t tell me it’s fine just because you weren’t bitten.” When he looked up again, fear lingered beneath the anger. “Do you have any idea how close that was?”
Calling it close would have been a lie. The bite had reached him. Luck, nothing else, was the reason he was still standing here. Its teeth had caught against the thick sleeve of his jacket instead of skin. A few centimeters, slightly more force, one different angle. That was all it would have taken.
Seokjin said nothing.
Beyond the bedroom door, faint sounds continued drifting through the apartment, plastic rustling, drawers opening and shutting, Namjoon’s voice low as he gave instructions to the others.
Jeongguk stepped closer, careful despite the tension radiating from him.
“I can’t—” Jeongguk stopped abruptly, one hand pushing through his hair while he struggled to continue. “I can’t drive while thinking about whether you’re infected or not. I can’t get everyone out of there while wondering what I’m supposed to do if Jimin-hyung finds a wound. Whether it’s already too late or not.” His voice faltered. “Those people changed after getting bitten and my head just kept—”
He broke off with a frustrated shake of his head. Every possibility had replayed endlessly in his mind.
“What if you were—”
For a moment, Jeongguk looked painfully young to Seokjin, fear leaving him lost and unsteady.
“What if...”
His voice cracked, the words barely forming at all.
Seokjin's chest tightened. “Jeongguk-ah...”
“Hyung think I didn’t want to get out of the car?” Jeongguk asked suddenly. “Hyung think I didn’t want to help?”
Screaming. Blood on the pavement. Families torn apart in seconds. A child trapped in the crowd. Elderly people too slow to escape. Strangers reaching desperately toward people who were just as terrified as they were... Every face remained burned into Jeongguk’s memory.
He had seen them. And he had driven past.
Because six people in his car depending on him to keep moving.
“You think I didn't see those people?”
“I don't think that.”
“Then why did hyung run alone?”
Seokjin opened his mouth, but nothing came out.
The reason had been obvious. A child trapped in the middle of a panicked crowd. No chance to stop and think, no time to weigh what was safer. His body had moved long before his mind could catch up.
And Jeongguk knew that. Seokjin knew he did. Because if their positions had been reversed, Jeongguk would have done the same thing—faster, probably, more recklessly, definitely. None of that changed what had happened, though. Seokjin had run into that chaos alone without saying a word. In the end, he only said, “I'm sorry.”
Jeongguk shut his eyes, the apology seeming to hurt him more. “I don't want hyung to apologize for saving a child. I just want hyung to be okay. I don't want you running off while I'm stuck watching—standing there wondering if I'm too late. I don’t want to choose between going after you and getting everyone else out.” His voice dropped lower. “Just… don’t make me go through that again.”
For several seconds, Seokjin could not bring himself to meet Jeongguk’s eyes.
The man standing in front of him, with broad shoulders, clenched jaw, and fear barely restrained behind his expression, suddenly reminded him of someone much younger.
Eight-year-old Jeongguk, crying as he clung to Seokjin’s waist after getting separated from him at a crowded festival. His small body had shaken so badly that Seokjin could still remember tightening his arms around him, holding him close as Jeongguk sobbed against his chest.
“Don’t go. Don’t go. I’m scared. I’m scared. Don’t leave me alone.”
Years later, that child was still there. Only now he stood taller, stronger. His hands could steady a steering wheel in the middle of chaos, his body could place itself between Seokjin and danger, yet his eyes remained painfully familiar.
And now the world itself was falling apart. Nobody knew how far this would spread, or whether it would ever end.
Looking at Jeongguk now, Seokjin understood the fear sitting beneath all that anger. He was terrified of losing the people beside him. Terrified in the exact same way.
“I’m sorry,” Seokjin said quietly. “I didn’t mean to scare you like that. I just… reacted. But I understand why you’re upset.”
Jeongguk kept his gaze turned away, jaw still tense. He had understood from the beginning why Seokjin had done it. That had never been the issue. What he couldn’t forget was the sight of Seokjin disappearing into that crowd and the crushing certainty, however brief, that he might not come back.
His throat tightened. “Next time,” Jeongguk said roughly, “don’t disappear like that.”
Seokjin nodded once.
"If you're going somewhere." The younger man finally looking at him again. "Tell me first."
“Jeongguk-ah.”
“Tell me,” he repeated, the words sounding half like a demand and half like a plea. The only thing he could still ask for in a world that no longer made sense. “If hyung is going to do something reckless, tell me first.”
“Jeongguk—”
“I’m serious.”
“...”
“I don't want to look around and realize you're gone.”
Something in Jeongguk’s voice cracked around the confession.
“Don’t disappear on me, would you?”
That was enough.
Seokjin stepped forward without another word and pulled him into his arms.
Jeongguk went rigid at first. Seokjin only held him tighter, arms firm around his back. Beneath his touch, every muscle remained painfully tense, like Jeongguk was still forcing himself not to fall apart. Gradually, though, the tightness began to ease little by little.
Jeongguk's hands rose to clutch the back of Seokjin's shirt, fingers twisting into the fabric. The grip almost hurt. Seokjin held him closer anyway.
Jeongguk tucked his head against Seokjin’s shoulder, warm breaths brushing against his neck. “I hate this,” he whispered.
“I know.”
“I hate it so much.”
“I know.”
A shaky breath left him. “I could barely do anything.”
Seokjin's hand rubbed his back slowly, with the other lifted to the nape of Jeongguk’s neck, thumb brushing there gently. “You did more than you think,” he murmured. “You got us out. You drove. You kept everyone moving.” His voice softened further. “You saved me too.”
Jeongguk did not answer, but his grip tightened.
Outside that room, people still needed them. The city was still collapsing around them. Tomorrow would bring more fear, more impossible choices, things neither of them knew how to survive yet.
They did not have the luxury of falling apart for long, but maybe they could have this, just a few stolen seconds alone in a bedroom that still smelled faintly of detergent and home. A few seconds to remember they were still human, alive. Still here together.
They stayed like that in the quiet, letting the familiar warmth of the room sink into their bones, because maybe this would be the last time anything felt safe. The last time the world outside could be held back by nothing more than a closed door and each other’s arms.
Then Seokjin tilted his head and pressed a soft kiss against the corner of Jeongguk’s brow.
Gentle. Wordless. More promise than anything else.
They remained that way until Namjoon's voice finally called from outside the bedroom.
“Hyung? Did you find the medicine?”
Seokjin closed his eyes for a moment, allowing himself a few seconds more. Jeongguk drew in a slow breathand reluctantly loosened his hold, though it felt as if every part of him still wanted to stay there longer.
“Found it,” Seokjin called back, his voice rougher than before.
He picked up the medical kit and headed toward the door, only to pause halfway. Some of the tension still lingered in Jeongguk’s posture. The corners of his eyes remained faintly red. When Seokjin reached out and touched his arm lightly, Jeongguk did not pull away.
“Jeongguk-ah.”
“Hm?”
“I’ll tell you.”
Jeongguk looked at him. Seokjin repeated it softly. “Next time. I’ll tell you first.”
Jeongguk's expression loosened, breath trembling once before he nodded. “Good.”
That was all he had wanted. Something certain to hold onto. The reassurance that wherever Seokjin went, he would not disappear without a word.
Seokjin’s hand remained lightly against his arm. “But you have to promise me something too.”
Jeongguk blinked. “What?”
“If something happens, don’t always carry everything alone.”
The younger man stared at him quietly.
“You don’t always have to be the one protecting everyone,” Seokjin continued softly. “Tell me when you’re scared too.”
For a moment, Jeongguk said nothing. Then, almost reluctantly, his fingers curled once around Seokjin’s wrist. “Okay,” he murmured.
When they stepped back into the living room, nobody looked up or asked questions. Namjoon merely glanced at the box in Seokjin’s hands. “Medical kit?”
"Mm."
Jimin was already moving. He took the kit from him and sat cross-legged on the floor, sorting through the contents one by one. “Antiseptic. Bandages. Gauze. Painkillers...” His hand paused over several bottles marked with veterinary labels. “Do not use these unless you actually know what you’re doing.”
“Those are for my patients,” Seokjin replied.
Jimin lifted one of the bottles slightly. “Patients with fur, apparently.”
“Most of them are far more cooperative than you lot.”
A quiet snort escaped Taehyung from the sofa. Jimin rolled his eyes while Namjoon only shook his head faintly.
The small exchange eased the heaviness in the room just enough for everyone to breathe again.
Not long after, they gathered across the living room floor. Taehyung remained curled against one end of the sofa, exhaustion pulling him toward Jimin’s shoulder. Nearby, Namjoon sat cross-legged by the table, listing their inventory and everything they still needed. He wrote it down twice, once on paper and once on his phone. If one failed, they would still have the other. Hoseok settled beside him.
Seokjin stayed close to Jeongguk, while the younger man leaned back against the sofa with one knee drawn up.
Across from them, Yoongi rested against the bookshelf, head tipped back as he closed his eyes. “What else did your office say?”
Namjoon went quiet for a second.
“They don’t know for sure yet.” He paused. “Or they do and aren’t allowed to say.” His expression darkened. “Either way, it’s not just the amusement park anymore. There are reports of attacks in several districts. People are becoming violent, and we’ve been told not to get close to them."
Outside, sirens continued echoing across the city—near, far, overlapping endlessly until it sounded as though the city itself was screaming from every direction.
No one seemed eager to speak. There was nothing comforting left to say.
Then, without warning, the apartment building shuddered.
Not an earthquake, more like the violent impact of something heavy somewhere below them. The vibration traveled through concrete and steel before settling beneath their feet.
Everyone looked up. The tremor was gone as quickly as it had come.
For a second, the only sound was the distant wail of sirens. Then faint noises drifted in from the hallway outside. A shout. Running footsteps.
Something slamming hard against a door in another unit.
Everyone froze.
Taehyung grabbed Jimin’s arm, fingers twisting tightly into the fabric of his sleeve. Yoongi, Namjoon, and Jeongguk had already turned toward the front door, bodies going instinctively tense. Seokjin stayed still, though every sense sharpened toward the sounds bleeding in from the hallway outside.
Jeongguk switched off his phone flashlight. The apartment fell into near darkness.
No one moved. Even breathing felt too loud.
One second. Two. Three.
Then hurried footsteps thundered past their door. The sound echoed down the corridor, bouncing off the walls as it faded, only to stop abruptly.
A moment later, a violent knock slammed against the unit across the hall.
“Open it! Please—open the door! Open it!”
A man. Crying. His voice was raw, broken, desperate.
The pounding came again, harder this time. “Please! Please, help me!”
Jimin shut his eyes, instinctively gripping Taehyung’s arm tighter.
Inside the opposite unit, there was no response. No sign anyone would open the door. Still, the man kept pounding against it. Thud after thud echoed down the corridor, each strike harder than the last.
Then, from somewhere farther down the hallway, another sound emerged. Footsteps. Slow at first. Heavy.
Something dragging unevenly across the floor. Not the frantic rhythm of someone running for their life. And then it stopped. Like whatever was out there had suddenly noticed the noise.
A single second of silence followed before everything shattered again. It ran. They ran. Fast. Far too fast. Straight toward the screaming man outside.
Taehyung clamped a hand over his mouth, stomach dropping.
Namjoon was already near the door with Jeongguk. They exchanged a quick glance before raised a hand sharply. Don't make a sound.
Across the hall, the pounding stopped abruptly. Then came the scream.
Everyone flinched.
A violent crash slammed into the wall, followed immediately by another. The struggle erupted all at once—shoes scraping wildly across the floor, something thrashing hard against the narrow hallway walls, fighting with everything they had
Kicking. Twisting. Desperately trying to break free. “Don’t—! Get off—! Please—!”
A wet sound cut through the corridor. Thick. Wrong. Then came the tearing. “ARGH!! ARGH!! LET GO—! LET—KKH—!!”
The scream broke apart into choking. Gagging. A strangled breath that never finished.
A body hit the ground hard enough for the impact to vibrate faintly beneath their feet.
The man was still moving, barely. They could hear it in the frantic scrapes against the floor, desperate hands hitting anything within reach.
Then the noises changed. The screaming dissolved into coughing. The coughing became choking.
A wet gurgling filled the throat.
“KKHEKH—!—”
After that, only broken choking sounds and weak, fading groans remained.
Taehyung squeezed his eyes shut. Beside him, Jimin had gone completely still. Nobody dared move.
Then—
BANG!
Something slammed violently against their front door.
BANG! BANG!
Everyone flinched.
The shoe rack and small table braced against the entrance scraped several centimeters across the floor.
Cold dread flooded Hoseok’s body.
Jeongguk reacted first, yanking the fire extinguisher from the wall. Seokjin moved right after him, snatching up the heavy glass vase from the table.
Behind the door, something, someone breathed. Wet. Heavy. Irregular. Something was standing directly outside their apartment. Listening. Sniffing. Searching.
Taehyung’s nails dug into Jimin’s arm.
Time stretched unbearably thin. Every second dragged, refused to move forward.
Then—
The footsteps moved away.
Slowly.
One step. Two. Three. Until silence swallowed the corridor again.
For several seconds, nobody dared breathe. Jeongguk remained near the door, every muscle drawn tight. His shoulders rose and fell faintly as he forced each breath under control. A few steps behind him, Seokjin still gripped the heavy glass vase in both hands, his posture rigid like something wound too tightly to bend.
Outside, the hallway had gone completely quiet again.
Too quiet. A stark contrast to what had just happened.
Then—
Tok.
A single knock.
Tok.
Another.
Not against a door. Against the floor.
A horrible scraping sound followed, accompanied by the drag of shoes against concrete.
Someone was trying to stand, unsteadily.
Tok.
Krrk. Krrk. Krrk.
Long, grinding noises scraped through the corridor, followed by another set of footsteps, dragging but moving closer.
Seokjin’s blood ran cold. They all recognized those footsteps.
The same man who had been screaming for help moments ago.
Tok.
Drag.
Tok.
Drag.
The rhythm sounded wrong now, slower, uneven. Whatever was moving through that hallway no longer carried itself like a human being should.
The footsteps stopped somewhere nearby. Silence followed, then came a low growl.
A chill crawled sharply down Jeongguk’s spine. Across the room, Hoseok stared at the door, face drained of color.
Nobody needed to say it aloud. The realization settled over them one by one.
Changed. The man.
The man had changed.
Whatever had stood back up in that corridor was no longer human.
The growl came again, farther away this time, followed by dragging footsteps slowly disappearing deeper into the building until the corridor finally fell silent once more.
“Shit…” Hoseok broke first, one trembling hand dragging roughly across his face. “Shit. Shit.”
Taehyung moved suddenly. He shot to his feet and rushed toward the bathroom, nearly tripping over his own feet. The sound of suppressed vomiting came from inside. Jimin immediately followed. “Tae—”
Only then did Seokjin finally exhale. The breath left him unsteadily, held too long inside his lungs. The strength in his legs faltered, forcing him back against the wall for support.
The horror itself was not new. They had seen far worse at the amusement park, but this felt different. Closer. Trapped inside a narrow hallway with them, separated by nothing more than a door and a few centimeters of wood. Every sound had carried too clearly through the walls, leaving no room to pretend the nightmare outside was distant.
Namjoon let out a long breath. “Okay.”
Everyone looked toward him.
“Okay…” He shut his eyes, forcing himself back together through sheer will. “We need to start thinking.”
“Good,” Yoongi muttered, his breathing still uneven. “Because I feel like I’m about to jump out of that window.”
Nobody argued. At this point, sanity already felt fragile around the edges.
Eventually, Namjoon lowered himself back onto the carpet, shoulders sagged forward heavily, as if the earlier events had drained him completely. Jeongguk sat down and gave his back a gentle pat. Namjoon didn’t lift his head, but he acknowledged it with a small movement of his shoulder.
A moment later, Taehyung emerged from the bathroom looking pale and shaken, Jimin close behind him.
Namjoon drew in another slow breath. “So we have food.”
“…”
“Water.”
“…”
“Medicine. Shelter.”
Each word sounded less comforting than it should have been.
“And?” Hoseok asked at last.
Namjoon lifted his head. “We don’t know how long any of that will last.”
Silence.
“I don’t think staying here is a good idea,” Jeongguk said quietly, eyes fixed on the barricaded door. "Yeah, we have supplies, but if more of them get into the building—or if that door gives in—we don’t have an exit.” He dragged a hand through his hair. “And whatever made that noise earlier… if it attracts more of them here…”
He did not need to finish the thought. Everyone already understood where it led.
“We don’t even know how many people are still in this building. Don’t know who’s still human.”
The words hung in the air, pulling every memory back to the surface. The panicked crowd in front of the entrance. The security guard in the basement who had turned into something else. A ruined eighth-floor corridor with one apartment left hanging open, its occupants nowhere to be found. And what had happened only moments ago. At least two infected now. Two. Which meant there could easily be more.
“We can stay here tonight,” Jimin trying to convince himself.
“Tonight, sure,” Yoongi agreed with a slow exhale. “But not forever.”
Jimin flinched at that.
Seokjin’s gaze drifted toward the dark hallway. The screaming from earlier still echoed in his head, so did the image of Mr. Han in the basement.
This place was supposed to be home. The safest place they knew.
The place he returned to after exhausting days at work. The place where Jeongguk sometimes waited for him after training, curled up half-asleep on the sofa. Where they cooked together late at night, fell asleep in front of the television, argued lazily over what to order for dinner. Every part of the apartment carried quiet traces of their ordinary life.
It was supposed to be safe. Yet now, even he could no longer say with certainty that staying here would keep them alive.
“So…” Hoseok sighed. “Where do we go?”
They looked at each other, their eyes met before dropping away. Nobody had an answer, no destination came to mind, only uncertainty.
Taehyung, who had barely spoken since returning from the bathroom, suddenly jolted. “Wait—” He scrambled forward quickly and dropping his phone onto the carpet between them.
The screen lit up.
“Signal?” Jimin leaned forward.
“One bar.”
Taehyung opened the news page he had been trying to load for the past several minutes. The loading icon turned slowly, too slowly, before the page finally shifted. A line of text appeared, then another.
Taehyung’s eyes widened. “Namjoon-hyung…”
Namjoon leaned in immediately. The others followed instinctively. Yoongi straightened.
On the screen was a news page—white background, black text. A bold headline sat at the top.
EMERGENCY GOVERNMENT ANNOUNCEMENT
Parts of the text were cut off due to weak signal, and some images failed to load completely, but the core message was still readable.
Civilians are instructed to proceed to the nearest military evacuation point. Bring essential supplies and identification. Evacuation corridors will close in forty-eight hours.
“Forty-eight hours…” Hoseok murmured, testing whether he had read it correctly.
“Jesus…” Jimin whispered.
“That’s… still a lot of time, right?” Taehyung lifted his head, eyes darting between them. A flicker of hope crossed his face.
“Not that much, but—”
All eyes turned to Namjoon. He pulled the phone closer, zooming in on the small map beneath the announcement. His brow slowly furrowed.
“Hyung?” Jeongguk called.
Namjoon pointed at the screen. “The evacuation point… it’s near our old dorm. They said the main evacuation points were closed. Looks like they're redirecting everyone to military zones now.”
“…What?” Jimin blinked.
“Seriously?” Hoseok leaned in again, eyes wide.
Namjoon zoomed in further. “Look. That’s the river. That’s the main road. And this…” His finger tapped a spot. “…that’s the dorm complex.”
Taehyung’s eyes widened. “It really is…”
Jeongguk’s gaze sharpened as he slowly traced the direction Namjoon was indicating. Recognition came in fragments. He had driven through that area countless times back when they still lived in the dorm. There was a convenience store on one corner where he used to stop for ice cream.
“If this is accurate, the evacuation point is only a few blocks from there.”
The room felt different all of a sudden.
They knew that place. Knew those streets by heart—every shortcut alley, every nearby shop, even which entrances were usually the least crowded.
“We can get there,” Jimin said quickly, voice brighter than it had in minutes, finding a small opening in the chaos had given him something to hold onto.
“To the evacuation point?” Hoseok asked.
“To the dorm,” Jimin corrected. “I mean… we know that place.”
The old dorm had long since been abandoned as they moved out one by one to places closer to work or on their own. But they had never sold it, never fully cleared it out. Too many things were still there—old furniture, clothes, equipment, and things they couldn’t quite bring themselves to throw away. In the end, it had become a kind of shared storage space.
“And we don’t have to go straight to the evacuation point,” Yoongi added. “We don’t know what the roads look like right now, or how many of those things are out there. If we can't make it before dark, we're screwed.”
“So we stay at the dorm overnight?” Taehyung frowned.
“If it’s still safe, yeah. That’s what I think.” Yoongi's eyes moved across the group. “What do you think?”
Jeongguk considered it for a few seconds before nodding. “It also gives us time to rest.”
“And restock,” Seokjin. “The dorm might still have whatever’s left from before—supplies from when we used to stay there.”
“Even if it doesn’t have much,” Yoongi said. “It’s still better than wandering the streets at night.”
Hoseok bit his lower lip. “But what if the dorm is already—”
“It’s possible,” Namjoon said honestly. “But at least we know the place.” He let the implication settle. They knew every floor, every exit.
Seokjin’s eyes were still fixed on the phone screen. “Better than going somewhere unfamiliar. If we have to move, I’d rather start somewhere we actually know first.”
Taehyung sighed. “So, the plan is… get out of here, go to the dorm, rest a bit if it’s safe…”
“…then head to the evacuation point,” Namjoon finished.
Hoseok suddenly straightened, remembering something important. “Wait—does anyone even have the dorm key?”
Silence. They all looked at each other.
“Don’t tell me we’re going to get there and can’t even get inside.” Hoseok stared at them in disbelief.
“I don’t have it,” Taehyung grimaced.
“Me either…” Namjoon admitted.
Yoongi shook his head. “Mine’s at the studio.”
Hoseok let out a humorless laugh. “Great. Our plan dies before it even starts.”
“I do.”
Everyone turned. Jeongguk had already pulled out his wallet, holding up a small key with a faded panda keychain.
Taehyung stared at him like he had just witnessed a miracle. “Jeon Jeongguk. If we survive this, I’m framing your photo and hanging it in the living room.”
Yoongi scoffed. Jimin was barely holding back a laugh. Jeongguk snorted. “That's creepy, hyung.”
“I’m serious.”
“Please don’t.”
A small, tired laugh slipped out of them, brief, but enough to loosen the tight knot in their chests for a moment.
Namjoon exhaled softly. “So we can get into the dorm.” He pulled them back to the point. “Now the question is—how do we get there?”
“Car? We have a car, right? That’s faster,” Hoseok suggested.
“The car’s in the basement,” Jeongguk said with a slight grimace.
The basement. Mr. Han.
“…Right,” Taehyung murmured.
“We don’t even know how many of them are down there now. If we go to the basement and it’s already full…” Jeongguk exhaled through his nose. “And to even get there, we have to go down eight floors first. Through the stairs.”
Hoseok dragged a hand down his face. “When you put it like that, it sounds like a terrible idea.”
Namjoon nodded. “Even if we make it to the car, we still have to get out of the parking area. We don’t know what the roads look like outside.”
“Traffic.”
All eyes turned to Seokjin. Cars were frozen across the road. People screaming, running, abandoning everything. “If it’s blocked, we’ll be stuck, and the engine noise…” His gaze darkened slightly. “If they’re drawn to sound…” They would be chased. And then what? Drive? Through streets that were probably already collapsing into chaos? A dead end.
Taehyung let out a long breath. “So… we go on foot?”
Namjoon gave a tired smile. “What choice do we have?”
“I hate that answer,” Hoseok muttered.
“Me too,” Yoongi.
“But at least we can change direction if something goes wrong.” They can cut through alleys, hide, or turn back. Namjoon tried to steady them. He looked at the map again. “The dorm isn’t that far. If we leave early, we should make it before noon.”
“Okay… okay.” Taehyung nodded a little firmer this time. “So we walk.”
The words made it feel more real. They were really leaving the apartment. Going outside, descending eight floors, stepping back into the world beyond the door.
“Tomorrow morning then?” Jimin asked.
Namjoon and Yoongi nodded.
“Tonight we rest. Charge whatever devices still work. Gather food and water. Only pack what we actually need.”
“Clothes too,” Seokjin added automatically. “Comfortable ones for walking.”
“Shoes,” Jeongguk said. “No slippers.”
Taehyung looked at them for a moment. “This feels weird.”
“What does?”
“We’re talking about it like…” He swallowed. “Like we’re going hiking tomorrow.”
No one answered, because none of them wanted to admit that this was the only way they could keep themselves from falling apart.
“Alright,” Namjoon said at last, standing up. “Let’s get ready.”
The next few hours passed in silence.
They moved through the apartment slowly, filling bottles with water, stuffing flashlights and spare batteries into their bags, collecting snacks, medicine, chargers, and power banks.
Questions were asked in low voices, answers came just as quietly. Most of the time, though, no one spoke at all. The apartment felt stripped of sound, no television, no music. Only zippers closing, fabric shifting, footsteps that tried not to echo, and the occasional object set down too hard, making everyone instinctively glance toward the door.
From outside, noise sometimes slipped in. Something hitting the ground. Footsteps, rushed and uneven. A scream too far away to understand. They would pause without meaning to, holding their breath, listening until the silence proved it was safe again. Then they would continue.
In the end, they carried only what they needed. The less they took, the faster they could move.
They showered and changed into whatever clothes felt most suitable for a long walk. Everything was done carefully. Even the bathroom doors were closed with deliberate gentleness, as though any careless sound might draw something unwanted toward them.
By the time they were done, it was nearly midnight. No one really wanted to sleep, but exhaustion had started to settle into their bodies. The adrenaline that had been holding them together was fading now, leaving behind aching legs, heavy heads, and eyes that burned from too many hours awake.
“Get some sleep. We need the energy,” Namjoon said.
The living room lights were turned off, leaving only a faint glow from the kitchen. Blankets and pillows were spread across the floor. They stayed close without needing to decide it. Sleeping alone didn’t feel like an option tonight, not when even silence outside the walls felt unreliable.
They lay down one by one.
Sleep didn’t come.
Eyes stayed open, fixed on the ceiling, while the room filled with small, uncertain sounds—the wind pushing against the windows, a distant impact somewhere far away, noises that didn’t settle into anything recognizable. The sirens were gone. Their absence made the city feel emptier than before.
Tomorrow morning, they would leave this apartment behind.
The last place that still felt like safety, and nd none of them knew if they would ever come back.
If, it would still be there when they came back.
Or if, “home” would still mean anything at all.
Morning came slowly. A pale orange sunrise slipped through the gaps in the curtains, washing the apartment in a light that felt unfamiliar after a long, heavy night.
The plan was set. They would leave through the northern emergency stairs, near the trash room at the end of the corridor. It connected directly to the back of the building—quieter than the main lobby, and hopefully safer.
Seokjin was already awake. Fully dressed. Ready. His bag hung from his shoulder as he stood in the bedroom, staring at a small photo frame on the desk.
Seven of them in the old dorm.
A slightly blurred shot, taken on a timer, the kind where no one quite manages to pose properly before it clicks.
Jeongguk laughing too hard at something just before the camera shook. Hoseok holding a pot of instant noodles like a trophy. Jimin and Taehyung shoving each other in the background.
Yoongi half-asleep. Namjoon holding a book upside down. Seokjin himself pointing at the camera, laughing. And Jeongguk, then, younger, softer, cheeks still round—standing too close beside him.
Seokjin's gaze lingered on it.
He remembered that night. Complaints about the noodles being too spicy. Laughter loud enough that someone banged on the wall next door. Ordinary days that had ended without warning.
His chest tightened.
For a moment, he let himself stay there—just long enough for the memory to settle. Then he exhaled.
It didn’t disappear, just simply sank deeper, folded away into a place that wouldn’t slow him down. His gaze steadied. His breathing evened out.
He slid the frame into his bag without hesitation, tucking away something he refused to leave behind.
A long breath. Then he turned and stepped out of the room.
In the living room, everyone was already ready. Bags on their backs. Shoes on. Faces drawn with exhaustion, now carrying something else too. Resolve.
Namjoon looked at each of them in turn. “No splitting up. That’s the first rule.”
“Agreed,” Hoseok said immediately.
“If anyone gets left behind, we stop. If there’s a problem, we handle it together. No one goes alone. No heroes.”
“Agreed,” Jimin echoed.
Taehyung, leaning against the bookshelf with his arms crossed, raised a hand slightly. “Third rule. Panic all you want, just don't stop working.”
Hoseok let out a short laugh. “Best rule so far.”
A faint curve appeared at the corner of Namjoon’s mouth.
For a few more seconds, they stayed like that. Seven of them gathered in the middle of the living room, dressed for a long walk, backpacks already on their shoulders.
Morning light slipped through the gaps in the curtains, cutting the room into soft bands of orange. Outside, the world looked almost normal, birds still singing, streets still quiet, as if nothing had ever gone wrong. But the silence felt wrong all the same.
Near the window, Jimin tightened his grip on his bag strap. Hoseok’s foot bounced once, then again, without him noticing.
Taehyung had stopped leaning altogether, arms still crossed, but his jaw was tight now.
Yoongi looked the calmest, but he had checked his bag three times in the last five minutes.
Jeongguk stood beside Seokjin, shoulders squared, gaze fixed forward. Only his fingers betrayed him, tapping lightly against his thigh.
Seokjin looked at them all again.
Faces he knew too well. People who had laughed, panicked, and almost fallen apart together only hours ago People who were now about to step outside into something none of them fully understood.
Namjoon closed his eyes and exhaled slowly.
Beside him, Seokjin tapped the back of Jeongguk’s hand once. Jeongguk immediately returned the gesture without looking over.
No one spoke. There was no need.
One last breath. There was no turning back.
Namjoon opened his eyes again—clear. And said,
“We move.”