Ansan 7

Taeyang had never been good at sitting still.

Even now, lying back against the stiff couch, his fingers tapped restlessly against his thigh. The stab wound in his shoulder throbbed… a deep, slow ache that pulsed in time with his heartbeat. 

He wasn't dying. The bleeding had stopped a while ago, and the bandages Daehyun had forced on him were holding up.

But the pain was still there. Constant. Unignorable.

He let out a sharp exhale, tilting his head back against the cushion.

One day. It had been one day since the fight. One day since Giseok's words and the loss had clawed their way into his skull and refused to leave.

Even now, just thinking about it made his jaw tighten.

Across from him, Daehyun sat on the floor, his back against the coffee table, arms crossed loosely over his chest. He didn't look much different from usual, calm, unreadable, the same bored expression that made it impossible to tell what he was thinking. 

But Taeyang had been with him constantly for nearly a week now.

The way his fingers tapped against his arm. The way his foot bounced slightly against the floor. Daehyun didn't fidget, not unless something was on his mind.

Taeyang scoffed under his breath. "What, do I make you nervous now?"

Daehyun shot him a look. "You wish."

There was a pause. Then Taeyang exhaled through his nose, rubbing a hand over his face.

"I'm not gonna dance around this," he said. "Giseok said something before he ran. About Minho."

Daehyun didn't react immediately. Didn't even blink.

Then, after a long moment, he said, "What did he say?"

Taeyang hesitated. The words felt heavier in his mouth than they should have.

"He said... Minho killed his brother."

The words hung between them, filling out the room.

Daehyun's expression didn't change. Not at first.

Then, slowly, he shifted, sitting up a little straighter.

"...Giseok said that?"

"He was screaming it," Taeyang muttered. "Right before he tried to cave my skull in."

Silence.

Daehyun leaned back, staring at the ceiling. His jaw tensed.

"You believe him?" he asked finally.

Taeyang let out a breath. He didn't know. That was the problem.

He wanted to say no. Wanted to write it off as another lie, another twisted truth meant to fuck with his head. But the way Giseok had said it—the rage, the grief…

It wasn't fake. It wasn't something he had made up just to mess with him.

And that meant there was something there.

"I don't know," Taeyang admitted. "But I need to find out."

Daehyun didn't respond right away. He stayed quiet, still staring at the ceiling like he was looking for answers in the cracks.

Then, finally, he exhaled through his nose.

"If Minho did something," he said slowly, "he had a reason."

Taeyang narrowed his eyes. "That's a hell of a thing to say."

Daehyun turned his head, meeting his gaze. "It's the truth."

Taeyang sat up, ignoring the sharp pain that shot through his shoulder. "You really believe that? No matter what it is, no matter who it was… Minho's always in the right?"

Daehyun didn't flinch.

"I believe Minho doesn't make mistakes," he said simply.

Taeyang stared at him.

Something ugly curled in his chest.

"You're serious."

Daehyun didn't answer.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke.

Then Taeyang scoffed, leaning back against the couch again, exhaustion weighing heavy on his limbs.

Daehyun let out a quiet breath. "You don't know him like I do."

"No," Taeyang said. "I don't."

And that was the fucking problem.

The Minho he knew… the one he had fought beside, the one who had pulled him into this world, was a lot of things. Strong. Calculating. Cold.

But a killer?

Someone who would take out an innocent kid just to get to Giseok?

That wasn't the Minho he knew.

At least… he had thought so.

Taeyang closed his eyes, exhaling slowly.

"Then tell me," he said, voice quieter this time. "What the hell do you know that I don't?"

Daehyun didn't answer right away.

His eyes flickered downward, unreadable, like he was weighing something.

Then, finally he spoke.

"I know Minho doesn't leave loose ends."

Taeyang's brows furrowed. "What the hell does that mean?"

Daehyun exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. "It means if Minho killed him, it wasn't out of spite. It wasn't because of some grudge. He doesn't move unless he has to."

Taeyang scoffed. "Oh, great. That makes it so much fucking better."

Daehyun shot him a look. "You asked."

Taeyang held his glare, the frustration bubbling under his skin. "So that's it? That's all you have to say?"

Daehyun leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. His voice was quieter now, but heavier.

"You think Minho is some untouchable, perfect leader?" he asked. "That he's just some cold, calculating bastard who makes everything look effortless?"

Taeyang didn't answer.

"Minho does what's necessary," Daehyun continued. "Not because he wants to, but because someone has to. And if it was Giseok's brother… if it was really him, then whatever happened was already over before Minho even got involved."

Taeyang's fingers twitched. "That's just an excuse."

"It's reality," Daehyun shot back.

A beat of silence.

Then Taeyang let out a slow breath, running a hand through his hair. His mind was a mess.

It wasn't that he thought Daehyun was lying.

But Minho, whatever Taeyang had believed about him, whatever truths he had convinced himself of… was slipping away, becoming something else. Something he wasn't sure he recognized.

And he hated that.

Daehyun stood up, stretching out his arms. "Look. I don't know what happened. But if you really want to figure this out, sitting here isn't gonna do shit."

Taeyang exhaled sharply, tilting his head back. "Yeah, no shit."

"Then get up."

Taeyang side-eyed him. "I have a hole in my shoulder, dumbass."

Daehyun raised a brow. "So?"

Taeyang scoffed, pushing himself up despite the pain. His body screamed in protest, but he ignored it, rolling his good shoulder as he stood.

Daehyun's lips curled into something amused. "See? Not so hard."

"Fuck you."

Daehyun shrugged. "Let's go."

Taeyang frowned. "Go where?"

Daehyun grabbed his jacket off the chair.

Daehyun slung his jacket over his shoulder, glancing back at Taeyang with that same infuriatingly unreadable expression.

"To make it so that you can actually get back to Anyang in one piece and talk to Minho."

Taeyang blinked. "What?"

"You heard me." Daehyun slipped on his jacket, adjusting the collar. "You got your ass handed to you. We need to fix that."

Taeyang scoffed. "I got stabbed, dumbass. You think I can even throw a punch right now?"

Daehyun gave him a once-over, unimpressed. "You're not that weak."

Taeyang rolled his eyes, but the frustration was already curling hot in his gut.

That fight with Giseok… Taeyang had barely survived it. Even before the stab wound, he had been outmatched. Every move he threw, Giseok had an answer. Every strike, every counter, nothing had been enough.

And the worst part?

He had felt it.

That gap. That difference between someone who fought and someone who destroyed.

Giseok had ripped through him like he was nothing. And if Daehyun hadn't shown up when he did…

Taeyang clenched his jaw.

Weak.

The word gnawed at him.

Daehyun sighed, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Look, I don't give a shit if you need time to lick your wounds. But if you want to keep up… if you actually want to stand a chance next time," He tilted his head. "Do you?"

Taeyang's grip tightened at his sides.

Because that was the thing.

He didn't want to just keep up.

He wanted to win.

He wanted to be stronger than Giseok, stronger than Daehyun, stronger than anyone who thought they could throw him into the dirt and walk away like he wasn't worth shit.

Taeyang exhaled sharply. Then, with a deep breath, he rolled his shoulders, pushing past the pain.

"Let's go."

***

The ground was cracked, littered with old cigarette butts, and a rusted fence ran along the edges, barely standing.

Ansan's border with Anyang wasn't huge so there wasn't much space available but Taeyang had to admit.

This seemed a perfect place to train.

Taeyang exhaled, rolling his good shoulder as they walked. "So? What's the plan? You gonna have me doing push-ups till I die?"

Daehyun scoffed, hand in his pockets. "Wouldn't take long."

Taeyang huffed a short laugh.

But then Daehyun's expression changed, and whatever humor had been there vanished.

"You already know why we're here," he said.

Taeyang looked away, fingers flexing at his sides. His jaw clenched.

Giseok had beaten him like it was nothing.

Like Taeyang was nothing.

And the worst part? He'd seen it coming the second Giseok started talking. The moment that bastard read him, he had already lost.

Taeyang took a slow breath. "You think you can make me stronger in what... the few days we have before they attack again?"

Daehyun didn't hesitate. "I think I can make sure you don't lose the same way."

Taeyang scoffed. "Yeah? You got some secret technique you've been keeping from me?"

Daehyun stepped forward.

"I've seen you fight and from what I saw… you have your strengths," he said. "Your instincts. Your aggression. Your speed. That's not the problem."

Taeyang frowned.

Daehyun's voice was steady. "The problem is that you're predictable."

Taeyang's fists clenched. "The hell does that mean?"

"It means anyone who watches you for long enough can figure out exactly what you're going to do next. You fight the same way every time. You rely on your instincts, I can see that but… instincts follow patterns."

Taeyang gritted his teeth. He wanted to argue, but he couldn't.

Because Giseok had proved it.

Daehyun continued. "That's why we're here. I can't make you stronger, I'm not the guy you need for that… but I can help make you unreadable. I can help make sure no one ever sees through you."

Taeyang exhaled, frustration burning under his ribs. "And how the hell do you plan on doing that?"

Daehyun tilted his head slightly, his lips curling… not quite a smirk, but close.

"You're going to break every single habit you have."

"You're still not answering, how?"

Daehyun flexed his fingers, cracking his knuckles one by one. "You're going to fight someone you can't beat."

Before Taeyang could even register what that meant—

*CRASH*

The world lurched sideways. 

His skull rattled, his vision blurred, and before he even realized he'd been hit, he was crashing straight through a stack of wooden crates.

Shards of splintered wood scattered around him as he hit the ground, his head ringing, his cheekbone pulsing with sharp, hot pain.

For a second, he just lay there, blinking up at the sky. Then his body reacted before his mind could catch up.

A snarl ripped from his throat as he pushed himself up, crouched low, his breath coming sharp.

Daehyun stood exactly where he had been. Feet planted. Fist still clenched. Calm.

Like he had never doubted for a second that the punch would land.

"You're going to fight me."

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Taeyang's about to be Daehyun's Masterpiece.

Also I wasn't going to update today because it's always iffy whether or not I can upload on the weekends but then I saw that y'all got me to 200 power stones. And I remember my promises soo

Here ya go.

A decent old training chap. (I'm exhausted so apologies if the quality isn't up to par, I put it through a proofreader in case I did something stupid)

I'm still thinking a lot on how animal instinct can actually be developed because right now, it feels like it's just turned into Eli and Tom slashing people and stabbing people with their fingers.

I need to do this shit justice man

No chap tomorrow.

Well unless you get to 250 power stones that is.