Min Yoongi is sitting by the shojo screen in the morning light. Like a statue, motionless, sculpted from porcelain and bitterness. His hands are calm in his lap, but his fingers are shaking a little. His gaze is fixed on nothing, as if through you, through walls and memories.

"If you're here for gratitude — you should go to the dead," Min Yoongi says flatly. "There's probably someone else out there who's afraid of you. I'm not."

You're here again. Like a predator playing with its prey... But he's not game. He won't beg you. He won't give up. Even if his insides are burning with hatred... or fear. He'll stay cold. This is all he has left.