JANGMI POV:

One chance.

I'd promised Park Jimin one chance.

But standing inside the center, my head was beginning to pulse and throb with every new scent that joined the already entangled mess of pheromones that were broadcasting every emotion, every feeling under one large roof.

The overwhelming fog of scents pressing close; some soured with distress, some bright and nauseatingly thrumming with giddiness, some sad and grieving, some angry and resentful. The combination makes my head swim and my stomach churn violently, head ducking further into the scarf wound around my neck, burrowing away from the constant waves of scents, cloying and suffocating.

Maybe this hadn't been a good idea.

To agree coming to the large hybrid care center.

Maybe the scents were too much too soon, body and biology suddenly thrusted into a space drowning in pheromones where for months on end I'd been without a single scent but my own reminding me very glaringly of what I'd lost.

But this was for Amina.

For her I had to try, I had to see through with what Officer Park had called me over for.

For her I swallow down the nausea and instinctual urge to burrow away and hide under layers of unscented blankets. Waking had been a chore. Tedious torment to drag myself out of bed, to peel away the blankets; heavily disoriented, blinking in the darkness of the bedroom, skin overheated from the countless blankets piled onto the bed.

It'd been effort to step through to the center and not rush out when the first wave of scents slammed into me, lungs burning from the effort it took to hold tears that prickled at my eyes at the sense of loneliness, aching and gnawing when I saw packs; happy settled packs.

Because there was wistfulness and yearning striking my body with this painful lurch of being reminded brutally of how isolated and adrift I felt; instincts constantly thrashing and restlessly moving.

Chasing and aching for something that day by day felt like it was slipping away from unconscious memory too, every scent seeming too harsh because I'd been that long without. Feel even the sweet, lighter scents of babies and children abrasively grate against skin and scent glands.

"Jangmi-ssi... I hope you weren't waiting for long. Sorry we've had quite a few hybrids to put into the protection program at the center." A voice warm and gentle appears from my side, body startling a little before turning to face him.

Slowly taking in the tiredness combined with relief, satisfaction alongside concern, the thin pink lines curved viciously across his throat and the edge of his jaw, eyes sharp and alert.

"It's fine Officer. Are you okay?" I ask, gesturing to the scratches with a bit of hesitation, watch his eyes flash even as his lips curl, warm and disarming.

"More than fine. A small price for a bigger haul with having our holding cells full of people waiting for trials." A pleased sharp bite to his words, though the curve of his hand as he gestures to the front desk is gentle.

A fox full of contradictions.

His presence is one the staff are accustomed to, no wary glances or hesitation as they slide over a visitor's badge for me once he's logged my details in. But the sight of my name neatly printed onto the visitors form brings apprehension bubbling low in my gut.

"It's harder to be found when you don't leave traces. Something's wrong Mi and I'm going to find out what."

I watch Amina flit about her room, tugging out clothes; nosing at the fabric before scrunching her face, determined as she rummages through her wardrobe, a pile steadily growing on the floor.

"What are you doing Mina? Need help looking for something?" I ask, watching with an amused smile as she continues to rifle through her wardrobe, frowning when she begins to tug out scented blankets and thick jumpers that I know still carry our shared scents.

Move to rescue the items that at that moment seem to offend her, ears flickering with impatience and continuing to rummage.

"Mina... just stop. What are you looking for?" I ask, tugging her wrist back from drawing out more clothes to discard.

"Something scentless."

I flinch at her words, curving back.

Why scentless all of a sudden?

And she senses the small movement, turning almost immediately with a contrite expression on her face.

Rushing to soothe the small sting.

"Not like that! For work... sometimes scents are helpful because they help add to your authority. Sometimes scents are betraying because they give away weakness... and I need to be scentless for recon." She explains.

My ears flicker and straighten; no longer threatening to droop, heaviness dissipating straight away.

Ah.

Recon.

"So you'll be undetectable. We have some Scent Scrub washing up powder and detergent I can put some clothes through." I offer.

Leaning over to pluck out jeans, a jumper and top. Nudging her forward with a hip.

"I'll get your coat and shoes professionally cleaned to become scentless, now clear up the mess." I call as I step away from her, gathering the small bundle of clothes to me.

"Thanks Mi~" she calls over as I leave the room.

Ears flickering at the gratitude palpable in her tone.

"Although these better be rescented properly when you come back." I threaten.

"You can count on it! A packmate's promise!"

"We're going to a small private room for two of the hybrids we've housed here for treatment and rehabilitation therapies." He explains as he leads the way down corridors with natural ease, slipping past large playrooms and offices.

Unconsciously, my body gravitates away from passing by employees and prospective parents. Find myself unconsciously lingering at the sight of children playing, at the ease and comfort radiating off small, entangled piles of giggling and wriggling bodies; scenting and nosing each other playfully.

The sight of them soothes the sting left behind by countless prickly shards driven in and wedged deep into my heart and gut, a gentle balm against weeping wounds.

"The center does good work, it's one of the safest facilities in Seoul for hybrids." He murmurs, sensing my dragging feet as I watch them, watch a tall tiger hybrid kneel beside a small, sweet chick hybrid, watch her tilt towards the fangy grin and messy curls and be scooped close.

Feel a lump in my throat at how much the small gesture of affection claws at my insides. It'd been months without Amina's sprawling figure stretched across the couch or purposely crowding against me to distract me. Months without her scent entangling with mine and months without the comfort of feeling that I was at home.

Slowly time and absence had leeched at the apartment and turned it into a hollow husk.

It didn't feel like home anymore.

It hadn't felt like home for months.

"And these two hybrids... how bad were their cases?" I ask, voice a soft whisper that trembles slightly.

Wavers.

Unsure whether I want to know or not.

His jaw tightens, the softness on his face turning sharper.

"One of them presented himself for sexual use at the trigger of praise and the other is dealing with positive reinforcement therapy to counter the negative reinforcement of being injected with scorpion venom." A hardened quality to the clinical report, steeped with anger and hurt.

I feel my body go taut, shrinking tighter in the coat even as my eyes meet the flinty edge of pain he himself experiences, the connection and empathy and rage he feels.

"Counter-conditioning therapies. Psychotherapy could help with talking about their trauma at some point." I murmur quietly as he walks forward.

Finally reaching a door, eyes warming at the thought as he nods.

"You could mention that to the head caregiver.... She's really adept with children..." he explains, hand reaching for the door and drawing it open at the same time that the person on the other end must've had the same idea, moving to leave.

Because a figure collides with his, a sudden jolt that would've sent them tumbling back if it weren't for the way his hand darts out to steady them, curling around their arm.

See a pair of doe eyes flicker with concern, body steadied and drawn close.

Then the scent hits me.

Subtle, subtle weak trails of anise.

Soft and barely there; as if worming their way through under a heavy weighted layer.

Scentblockers must be wearing off.

But the scent, weak and light as it is, slams into me and the face that I finally get a full glimpse of startles me, coming to a stop.

Staring at the person in front of me, eyes raking over her, disbelief welling up.

"Is there something wrong Min—" words trailing off before recognition flashes in her eyes, widening further as she peers at me. Hurriedly drawing the hand off her to duck past, eyes raking over me before a wide, wide smile stretches across her lips.

Feel hands tug me close, enthusiastically winding around my neck and worming close for a hug, the scent of anise and the fierce press of a hug coaxing my arms to wind around her. Desperate and frantic and burrowing close, clinging to the familiar scent and press of her body against my own.

Hear a laugh; shaky and trembling, nose brushing against my cheek and warmth seeping from her against me.

"Oh my god Mi... it's been forever!" a loud exclamation that makes my ears flicker, folding as I burrow close, the nickname triggering the stinging sensation to return tenfold, blinking back tears as I cling fiercely to her.

To the safety and warmth and love she represents.

"(Y/N)... how... I—" I say, sniffling, leaning back to peer at her, see how doe eyes flicker with alarm and distress, thumbing under my eyes to catch the tears that spill, head ducking to hide them, scrubbing at my cheek. Pushing and wiping away at the evidence of longing that stain my waterline and threaten to well up in larger waves. Lips trembling as I smile at her.

"Mi what's wrong? Minnie what—why are you with Jangmi?" voice tinging with alarm and panic, arms tugging me closer. Her presence grounds me, pushes back my distress and see her own face settle when no more tears fall.

"She's the visitor I mentioned coming to see Ji Ah and Min Jun."

And I steel myself against the lump in my throat, the weakness and vulnerability I feel welling up just at the sight of her, comforting and grounding.

She senses something's wrong. Amiss. But doesn't say for now, arm curling around me and drawing me alongside her, hip bumping mine with comforting familiarity.

Coaxing my tears to retreat slightly at the warm curve of her lips as she draws me in.

"Well—they're a guaranteed cure for tears, baby bear especially." She murmurs.

And the scent of baby powder and barely blooming scent of something fruity brushes against my nose when I follow her in.

Peering round the room and finding that a large corner of the room is occupied by countless layers of clothes and blankets and pillows.

A large nest stretching out across the corner, large enough for two adults to slip into it but in a tight cosy fit and certainly large enough for the young boy sprawled over the elder girl, nosing at her cheek and growling; soft small sounds of happiness as she scratches gently at his ears.

"The meerkat love is Ji Ah, and the sweet baby bear is Min Jun. I've been with Min Jun for around... six months now? And Ji Ah for half that time near about."

And Jimin's words ring in my ears, looking at them and searching, wondering just how on earth two children ended up getting dragged into a world that by no right should even exist.

How anyone had been caught up in it?

"Six months?" I echo, gut twisting painfully and eyes unable to tear away as I gravitate forward.

Tugged towards the sight of the two of them, stopping a safe distance away from the barrier of their nest, watching curious eyes peer at me.

One pair of light brown and one dark; ears flickering and peering at me.

"Bear!"

Voice cheery and bright, body scrabbling up from the nest bedding to peer at me.

The enthusiasm sends a jolt of warmth through me, eyes catching onto round cheeks bunched up with happiness, eyes sparkly and focused.

What surprises me is that he clambers out the nest, nose twitching as he takes hurried steps forward. Easily scooped by (Y/N) who laughs when he wraps himself close, peering at me from the side.

Curious. Snuffling and tilting away from her as he seems to chase something.

"She is a bear, a pretty panda bear." She coos to him, thumb brushing over the curve of his cheek, something painful and visceral twisting in my gut with an aching emptiness.

A want for affection and closeness.

A want for that numbness to thaw even if for a bit, even if temporarily.

Watch as he continues to tilt forward, almost overbalancing himself as he peers at me, head tilted and dark brown ears flickering.

Intrigued and curiously staring with light eyes.

"Pretty bear!" he echoes with a grin, small, small fangs that will eventually develop a sharper point to them. He's endearingly sweet, head resting on her shoulder, but eyes focused on me.

He's so settled, so calm and Ji Ah herself, curious and peeking and when Jimin slips over to her, kneeling beside her, she indulges in a hug, curling close, dark wide eyes scanning.

Sharp and attentive even if her scent is soft and light.

It makes me wonder what's instilled that unconscious alertness in her, wonder how much she's seen to be so cautious.

It makes me terrified and afraid for what Amina is caught up in.

Hear small shuffles before hands tug at my jeans, curled around my calves and bright wide eyes peering up at me.

"Bear up?"

And the gentle, endearing plea tugs at my heartstrings lightly, instincts aching as I nod, bending to wind my hands around him and scoop him up, smiling wryly at the small wriggle he gives, chubby fists unclenching to grip at my jumper and nose bonking against my jaw. A sudden jolt that has my head rearing back only to find he follows to close the small distance, burrowing face first against my throat.

"Honey sad. No sad!" he exclaims, rumbling words that brush against skin, firm and petulant, folding flickering ears brushing against skin as he wriggles forward with determined intention to wipe away the staleness.

A startled sound of surprise slipping past my lips before my body relaxes, cradling him securely against me as he noses at my throat, hand tugging at my scarf to fully snuffle against my gland with an enthusiasm that has my stale scent lightening.

Feel the rumble of a small growl against skin, the sensation new and ticklish, body squirming at it, ears flickering as he wriggles happily before nudging against my gland again.

Rumbling with approval against my neck, curling close and shifting about in my arms, hands curling into my scarf to tug it wider for access.

"No cub could resist my sweet panda." (Y/N) coos, nudging Ji Ah forward when she dithers uncertainly, silent understanding passing between their eyes.

Tentative slow steps, shy and quiet before a small tug at my jacket. Track her movement with curious eyes and bend down when she gives another tug, body curling over her.

"Hi Ji Ah..." I murmur.

See her lips part noiselessly, see her mouth it back.

See how normal it is for the other three in the room.

"We thought Ji Ah was mute by birth, but it might be a coping mechanism, a shield of sorts."

Selective mutism.

What horrors had pushed her voice to be swallowed whole inside her? What words sat too heavy on her tongue, slowly suffocating her from inside?

What limit had been crossed that she couldn't turn back from it? Would struggle to.

And silently she holds out her hand, clenched fist brushing and nudging my hand until I hold mine out.

Watch rather than drop something into it, her hand turns, and splays open wide.

Revealing a button threaded through a soft cord, a bracelet for the dangerously thin wrist.

But she holds it out to me in silent offer, eyes encouraging and imploring in a way that makes me feel oddly vulnerable and touched in equal measure.

Fingers closing around the shiny button, thumb brushing over it.

Her head dips and nods with encouragement, a small bolstering smile curled on her face, tiny thin fingers curling my own shut around it.

"That button was (Y/N)'s. it's Ji Ah's good luck charm." Jimin's voice softer than I've ever heard it, gentle and curling with sweet mint brushes against me as I cradle the nuzzling cub towards me and let myself tilt forward to brush a kiss across Ji Ah's hairline.

"Thank you Ji Ah... I really need all the luck I can get."

------

Officer Park I learn, or Minnie to (Y/N), is her mate. Or rather courting to be, though the immense connection and ease and unconscious gravitational tilt their bodies broadcast show that the only thing that bars them from that full title is the lack of the marks of his fangs at her throat.

Jimin, I note, is beyond just officer within the rooms of the bedroom the two hybrids share, my lap full of the baby bear who clings on tighter, curled up and snuffling at skin, scarf tugged away so he can nose at my collarbones and throat; rumbling deeper and happier as the staleness to my scent slowly begins to be chipped away. Ebbing and flowing out sweeter, softer.

Honey that's warm and syrupy rather than bitter and stale and suffocating in its cloying heaviness. Fingers rubbing and scratching at the base of dark brown ears that flicker as he rumbles, cheek pressed against my shoulder, soft and squished.

Ji Ah takes great care in smoothening over the blanket she'd insisted on drawing over my lap, a small gesture but in the invitation of it being one from their nest, one of the scents and items they associate with comfort offered to me.

There was extreme awareness and perception in her eyes, drifting back to (Y/N) but content to watch, eyes flicking back and forth and a teddy bear substituting the bear cub I held in my arms, hand rubbing over the curve of his spine, the scent of baby powder fresh and soft.

(Y/N)'s eyes, wide and baleful, have darkened significantly; legs jittering anxiously, and lips pressed tight since she's heard. The small jolts of her leg sends that constantly gnawing nervousness to bloom in my stomach, feeling an echo of her jitteriness from where she sits pressed to my side.

Amina's gone.

"But... but she can't be... how?" she murmurs, voice sounding hollow.

"She was classed as MIA but where there's been no hunt for her, to find her, there's been tremendous and large efforts made to remove her trace and ties to the trafficker case." Jimin murmurs.

"But months... months and Jangmi you—you never told me, you never told any of us. Why?" anguished and pained, hand reaching for my own and squeezing fiercely, sorrow striking deep; battering against hurt and pain.

I shake my head, cradled arms around Min Jun loosening slightly.

"I... I kept waiting and hoping she'd come back."

But she didn't.

She hadn't.

And though Jimin has fierce resolve and determination to find Amina, silently my mind begins to steep further and further into a despair I don't want to acknowledge, don't want to give a name to.

A feeling that spills out in writing, in pages after pages littered with grief and despair.

A feeling that makes food nauseating and sleep a temporary haven.

"And she hasn't... but she will. We'll find her, we'll find Amina. You're not alone Jangmi and I'm so, so sorry you've been hurting for months isolated and cut off... but you're not alone. Not now." (Y/N) promises, voice tinged with pain but fierce, fierce determination and love.

I duck my head, nose chasing out the soft powdery scent of Min Jun who's slowly begun to droop, slower nuzzles and tiredness tugging at soft, sweet features. Round cheeks drooping as his lips twist in a yawn that's muffled against my skin.

"I'm just... tired."

And slowly I'm losing strength and will.

Slowly I'm giving in to the exhaustion.

And all I want is to sleep and not wake.

All I want is Amina back.

But why does that seem like too much to ask?

"Never trust easily Mi... you're sweet and far too nice to people. But the world isn't like that in return. Not everyone who treats you well means it, not everyone in a uniform intends to uphold the law."

Eyes sharp and all bundled up in scentless clothes, tugging her hood over her ears, wild curls tied back and face set with determination.

"Mina I... I already don't have a good feeling about this, and I know this goes without saying but take care." I fret, fingers brushing over blankets, over the large yellow puppy plushie; eyes lingering on the soft smile stitched on and wishing I could dredge one up too.

Tugging it onto my lap and clinging to the squishy softness as I watch her, see her smile at the sight.

"Of course I have my sweet panda bear and puppy love to come back to." Letting me tug her close for a quick embrace, wary of carrying my scent over onto her clothes.

Fierce and squeezing her tight.

"You better or I'm adopting puppy love as mine."

She grins, teasing and playful as she slips over to boop the plushie on my lap.

"I'll be back for my puppy. But take good care of him today, he likes extra squishes and hugs."

And he sat, stayed with me in my room, tucked up in blankets and pillows, all swaddled and tucked in the nest. Waiting for Amina with me, giving me comfort when nothing else did.

I'm tired.

"And that's okay Mi... you're allowed to be tired, and you're allowed to lean on people."

Her eyes drifting to Jimin, smile warm and encouraging and bolstered by his presence. (Y/N) trusts him. Trusts him with her life, trusts him with the lives of the two young hybrids. Trusts him in such a vulnerable space of the hybrid center itself.

She trusts him.

So I trust him.

I will trust him.

"I... I'll help you Officer Park. I'll help you in whatever way I can."

And it's pain and that agonizing hope that flares when his ears perk up, fangs peeking when he looks at me, looks at his mate and the two children pressed close.

"And I will find Amina and bring her back to you."

Words that come like a dangling rope, frayed and unravelling, but a rope, nonetheless.

And one I'd hold onto with everything I had.

SJ POV:

"The employee training results are out; we've adjusted and modified their individual training programs to match them. Inform your group of trainees and inform them." The training head says, head tilting to gesture to the employee files waiting to be taken.

Stepping aside to let the other trainers move forward, my own hand snagging my files; a smaller bundle of them. The more highly trained employees at the center, the one's working and training in stronger, harder courses because of how long they'd been working here, how their work positioned in them the very heart of the facility.

Head off to talk to them, handing over their files and training timetables to a lithe, muscled leopard, a small, slender sweet-looking calico cat; but I knew from experience that her smaller frame was a strength disguised and misleading her opponents. Pass over files to the few employees I find in the large break room before heading over with the final file to (Y/N).

Smile tugging at my lips as I move towards her office, scanning my card, and peering in but finding it empty. Redirect to the large bedrooms past the nurseries, past the playrooms.

I'm moving past the largest playroom; that slowly takes form and shape with painted figures, when the scent first hits me.

Honey.

Pauses me in my steps, eyes tracking the scent, trying to pinpoint it before they come to still on a figure hurrying past, body curled defensively, and head ducked low.

Feel my lips tug up at the familiar black ears flickering and the long dark brown tresses spilling over her shoulders. Step into her barreling path, hand reaching out to wrap around her wrist when she automatically steps aside, eyes fixed on the ground. Loop around her wrist and draw her forward, drinking in the sight of her.

Smile stilling slightly, confusion flickering through me.

See confusion quickly morph into recognition, the corner of her lips curving up.

"I thought I smelt honey~" I greet, even as the scent continues to burn a path down my lungs.

Heavier. Cloying. Saturated with distress. With a pain and misery that the warmth of her eyes and smile can't hide or disguise. Neither can the soft baby powder scent that clings to her bare throat.

Disbelief and giddiness cementing my feet, drinking in every feature, smile falling at the haggard, strained pinch to her features, eyes shadowed and tired behind her glasses, cheeks definitely thinner since the last time I'd seen her. Her eyes flickering as she looks at me, tension slipping out her spine, eased away.

"Seo Junie... how... how've you been?" 

Lips curving up with the aching familiarity of the nickname.

"Good.... what brings you here? Adopting?" I ask, curious why of all places we meet again it's at the hybrid center.

Head tilting as I look at her even as her scent continues to tug at instincts, make them restlessly fret.

Something's wrong. Something's blatantly wrong. Something's hurting her, bothering her, causing her distress.

But what? And why?

Why's the same familiar honey scent gone heavier? Burdened and saturated with misery that even the soft baby powder scent can't disguise, can't erase.

Thumb brushing over her wrist, mind wracked with worry when her shoulders sag.

Shaking her head, her nose scrunching, eyes lightening even as her scent turns heavier still.

The smile is fragile glass, transparent and delicate when she speaks the next words.

Heart plummeting at them.

"No... I'm not in a good enough place to do something like that." Feel my body sag as though the same weight boring down on her shoulders slam against my own.

Ache to see her like that, to see her so openly accept it.

Stubborn to the very end.

So admitting it... voicing it aloud in a voice that wavers, trembles as if it hurts to even say... it means she's at the end of that tether.

Passed it a long while back.

Thumb brushing against the small gland on the inside of her wrist, aching to give her even a semblance of comfort.

"What's wrong Mi? And is Amina with you... I haven't seen her in a while..."

Feel my heart plummet, mentally berating myself because her scent shatters.

Shatters and dissolves the sugary warmth that had been in it, plummeting into a dark heavy bitter taste that lingers on the tongue even as my lungs shudder with it.

Flinch when her body jerks back, wrist going taut as if she means to drag herself away from me, to get away from the words.

"Neither have I." a broken whisper.

The bitter, agonized finality to her words unsticks my feet, body rearing back slightly even as I ache to crowd closer.

No.

Amina's not...

Amina can't.

What's that meant to mean? And no matter how much I turn it over in my mind, I can't make sense of it, can't figure it in a positive light.

Restless at her words.

Where is Amina then?

Did something happen between them? Did their pack split? Did Amina get reassigned somewhere long-term?

And alongside Jangmi's look of grief, my heart shatters.

"Mi what happened... what's wrong?" I ask, watch as she tucks herself smaller, defensively retreating in herself.

"Amina's missing SJ. She has been for months." And this time my body jerks backs, shock and disbelief cording through my body.

I shake my head slowly.

"That can't be... I texted her to spar... but she's always gone off the radar with messages every now and then..."

Words hollow and ringing out, desperation in my words.

It can't be true.

Amina always left my messages unread when she was busy, took time in getting back to me because she was busy with a case or tired.

Because there was something going on.

But not like this.

Never like this.

The anguish that drowns dark brown eyes claws at me, sinking a line deep inside my gut and yanking, misery ebbing and spilling over at her own.

"She's gone SJ and I don't even know if she's alive... if she's ever coming back." She shudders, eyes wet with tears, head ducking to try hide the sight when my hand reaches out to brush them away, cupping her cheek.

Feel her flinch, startled by the gesture, before she tilts to the touch almost immediately afterwards, the surprise seeping away, eyes fluttering and lashes wet, brushing against skin. Hear the shaky sob as she curves forward, body crumpling with distress, my other hand winding around her to tug her closer.

Her body presses close, instinctually and unconsciously chasing a comfort denied for months.

There's years of friendship and familiarity and unspoken want bloom to the surface; a mixture of nostalgia and affection but a greater, far greater need and want to protect and take care of her. To erase the misery scoured deep on soft features.

Seething and thrashing with painful rage that she's been hurting, that someone took Amina away and made Jangmi hurt for months on end suffering alone.

Her cries are muffled against me, near soundless and would've gone unheard had it not been for the way my ears are so sharply attuned to every hitch of breath, to the shaky tremble and swallowed sobs that want to tear past her throat raw and visceral and violent in their pain and grief. Feel fingers curl into my shirt, grasping on, feel her ears flicker and the way in that instance she seems so painfully small and vulnerable.

My hands tighten around her, fingers loosing from around her wrist to wind more securely against her back, head tucking over hers, dipping to nose against her flickering ears; heart twisting at the familiar fruity scents she always loved using.

The same person I knew, the same person I knew growing up, the same person Eunwoo and (Y/N) grew up with. Our sole panda cub herdmate. Not a buck, not a fawn, but she held... still holds her own place.

And yet the pain.

The agony that ripples through the pained soured scent that's always... always been sweet. Always been tugging and leading and coaxing me closer.

Closer yet still even now but to chase away the decaying cloying quality to it. To ease away the hurt.

Never again Jangmi.

"I should've checked in... when she didn't reply several times I should've checked in with you Jangmi. I'm so sorry panda bear." Voice wavering as I cradle her close, her body curling closer, fingers tightening as she trembles.

My heart lurches, stomach tightening with the scent of her souring pheromones; drowning in her sorrow, in her desperation and loneliness.

Months Amina has been missing and months Jangmi has endured silently and alone.

How had we failed her so badly? Why hadn't I gone over to check up on them? Why had I brushed off the lack of reply as normal?

And now their pack was divided; one missing and one crumbling... had been for months and I was seeing the pieces as they shattered and fell apart.

I was seeing Jangmi's hope dwindle away.

"I failed you Jangmi. But I won't fail you again." I murmur, head dipping, antlers rubbing against her cheek, a slow scented drag before my own skin brushes against hers.

Curling closer and grip tightening around her, folder clenched tightly between my fingers.

Never again.

I won't let you hurt alone Jangmi.

Stay wrapped close to her as her breaths turn from shaky to quieter, feel the loosening grip of her fingers, head tilting and body slightly drawing back.

Eyes drifting over red-rimmed eyes, hollow and tired behind her glasses, and cheeks stained with tears, the tip of her nose red, lips trembling as she peers at me.

"I just want her back SJ. I hate being alone and I just want my pack back." Her words an anguished sob, a plea, a want. A need.

My hands slowly unfurl, unwilling to withdraw the cradle my arms have become for her but move to cup her cheeks, brushing against wet tears and thumbing under her eyes.

"And you will. You'll have Amina back; you'll have your pack. And you're not alone honey bear, you never will be." I promise.

Nose brushing against hers, head tilting forward, foreheads pressed together even as my palms move to cup her cheeks.

Never.

Her fingers grip at my wrist, curling around them slightly, the tilt of her body gravitating closer.

She'd been touch-starved for months.

Her biology and instincts stifled and suppressed and hungering for just tactile affection and closeness.

And she'd not had that.

She'd been missing it.

So when her body draws away, restless panic flares inside me.

"Let me drive you home." I murmur, unwilling to let go, unwilling to let her out of sight not when she engrains herself in mind already.

Not willing or wanting to let the distressed scent of honey slip away without making sure she was okay, and she got back safe.

Fingers drifting to entangle with hers and drawing her beside me, feel them grip back tightly; tugging her closer so her body is half shielded by mine as I lead her out.

Smell the curl of mint before I see him, head turning over my shoulder to see that Jimin's come to still a short distance away from us, a sad smile on his face but encouragement and promise flickering in dark eyes, tail swishing and head nodding when our eyes meet.

"Take care of her. And I'll take care of the rest."

And the depth of her loneliness, her deprivation from basic tactile needs and instincts is proven when her hands slowly unfurl from around me once the motorbike pulls up in the parking lot of her complex. When her hands tremble as they fall away from my torso and I reach for them immediately, squeezing gently before peering back at her.

Unable to see past the dark visor but when I nudge it up, her dark eyes peer at me with uncertainty, slowly clambering off the bike.

"I... sorry." She winces apologetically, fingers curling as they draw back, clenched into fists and eyes flickering away as I turn off the ignition.

Set the helmet down before cupping hers, tilting her face back and head ducking to peer up at her.

"Sorry for nothing." I refute firmly, undoing the clasp before drawing the helmet off, fingers brushing hair back and cupping her cheek, thumb sweeping over her cheekbone.

Her cheeks had been fuller before and there was light and not shadows behind glasses, bone-deep weariness, affections withdrawn because she doesn't want to burden me with them.

She couldn't be more wrong if she tried.

"Now... let's get you inside. Mind if I stay?"

See her cheek tilt to the touch, voice a soft whisper almost unheard.

"Please."

------

The brush of cold wind against my fingers has them retreating away from the window but letting the cold draft brush through the overheated apartment, feeling the heat of my body rise with the stuffiness. The heavy weight of the air itself that clings to every surface, stale honey a cloying smog that infiltrates my lungs.

Eyes scanning the kitchen; frowning at the pristine condition of it.

It looked too clean. Clinically clean, every surface scrubbed and gleaming but also untouched. The fruit basket sat empty and when I tugged open the fridge door for milk, it was to find the shelves worryingly scarce. The cupboards were the same.

It was as if over the months Jangmi's appetite had been worn away, ground down to meagre amounts which revolted entirely against her biology, her biology needed that constant nutrition, needed to replenish what her biology burned through so quickly. And yet it was clear that with Amina's disappearance slowly her focus on her self had diminished too.

Had slowly been worn away.

But as my eyes drift over the living room, the blankets and cushions forming a large nest around the main sofa, I can see that she's substituted one need for another. Favored one for the sake of the other. Comfort over food.

And yet it was clear she wasn't finding comfort either, her eyes drifting to me when I step through with two mugs, shuffling to the side slightly when I make a beeline for the lifted blanket, curling close at the invitation after pressing the mug into her hands carefully.

"You haven't stocked up on food much. Don't you always do winter shops with Binnie? The two hoarders during this season." I tease lightly, watch her nod absently, eyes trained on the curling wisps of steam rising from her mug, peering at it intently.

"And winter's here in full force." She murmurs.

Her words are a softly acknowledged observation, aware that she'd not met with the squirrel hybrid. That it was a strong, strong likelihood that she hadn't told anyone. That (Y/N), Eunwoo and Binnie had been just as clueless and unaware, maybe the buck and squirrel hybrids still were.

Unaware that silently, and for months, one friend had been missing and the other suffering in her absence.

"You need to eat. Proper food. And the heating is on too hot. And you were never this messy in uni with your notes." I chide, eyes raking over the overflowing table, gently drawing the blanket down that she unconsciously tugs upwards, her cheeks already flushed with the heat.

Her ears flicker and the ghost of a smile curves across her lips.

"Bossy buck. You were never this fussy in uni with anything." She retorts but lets the blanket fall, fingers curling tighter around the mug.

"Sometimes things call for a little fuss... new book?" I ask, drawing her attention to the notes, the rough edits and drafts covered with lines and small jottings made in the margins with different colored pens.

She hums in answer.

"Research book this time."

I nudge my shoulder against hers, careful to not jostle her mug but instincts lifting slightly to see the side glance she shoots me for it regardless.

"I prefer the children books; I know I still have the first edition set safe. I know the others do too. First printed batch of them. For our own kids one day." I echo our words from years back, remembering the giddy elation with nostalgia.

Remember how thrilled she'd been, cheeks flushed with excitement and curved up, eyes shining and bar from the glasses she always favored. Remembered long dark tresses spilling over and tickling skin. Remembered how fierce her hug had been as she clung back, how entangled and safe and how much like home and pack all of our entangled scents had smelled like.

That felt like a lifetime ago when I see the husk she threatens to become.

How loneliness chips away and erodes the happy panda I once knew.

Her lips stretch wider, cheeks bunching with the gesture.

"I miss writing them... but this. I needed this. Needed to write this." A soft whispered admission, almost shameful and guilty in the divulsion of it.

And when I peer at one of the old manuscripts, tugging it up to examine it, my stomach churns.

Months.

Months she'd had no-one and decided to work on this instead.

She'd had no-one to turn to, to pour all this pain and confusion out to, so she'd written it instead.

Written it as a way to expel it, to get it out from bubbling and building and simmering under skin until it would've imploded.

Loss: How a Broken Pack Heals

Because she'd not only lost Amina, but she'd also been entirely packless, without the slightest semblance of a home, of a pack, of protection and safety. She'd had no safety net and had freefallen into the pain.

Nothing to shield her from it, no-one to stop it from driving it hilt-deep into her heart.

By not checking up on her, to some extent, we'd been the reason why she'd felt packless and alone in the situation.

She'd needed to write because she'd needed an outlet.

"And you need to let me do a food shop. You look exhausted, tired?" I ask once her mug is empty.

A small nod.

Fingers curling into the blankets.

"But I don't want you to go SJ." She admits.

Once again tugging and reeling me back, instincts immediately rolling over and accepting, willing to do anything and everything for her.

"I'll do the food shop, grab some stuff and come back. Why don't you nap in the meantime?" I suggest, eyeing the dark shadows under her eyes. Far greater and deeper than the natural biological genetic makeup of a panda.

She nods almost immediately, acquiescing but her eyes linger and follow me when I stand, tracking me almost nervously as if at any instance I'll disappear from sight.

Her nervousness to let me out of sight is so at odds with her willingness to nap but I stay. Stay until I coax her to lie on the sofa, slightly restless as her head sinks against the cushions I straighten, fingers curling against mine when I draw the blanket over her.

Stay her eyes plead.

Stay.

And when her eyes flutter shut, features smoothening out with sleep; the pinch between her brows eases away, my fingers drawing her glasses off. Setting them aside on the table. Her fingers are still tightly entangled with my own, drawn to the warmth of the blanket and only when her breaths deepen and even out, only when she curls smaller under the blankets, fingers loosening do I slowly draw myself away.

To hurry and then be back.

Because so much screams at vulnerability and hurt and anguish. So much screams that hope and optimism dwindles down to ugly hard feelings of grief and loss.

And too long she's been hurting alone, the last thing I want is for her to think this is fleeting, this is just an instance of comfort given then lost to the heavy scent that still clouds the flat.

But before I leave I draw the windows shut, slowly and anxiously circling the apartment before finding my feet stilling before the sofa once more.

Aching to help her, to provide for her but almost not willing to do it at the cost of leaving her.

Antlers rubbing against her cheek to leave a trail of scent and lips pressing gently to skin.

"I'll be back soon Jangmi, sleep well."

And when the apartment door shuts behind me, it closes a world that's been trapped within its four walls.

But not anymore.

Not for an instance longer.

BINNIE POV:

It's habit I know. Painful habit that becomes a crutch. But when the sound of the keypad being pressed reaches my ears, the electronic beeps before the door unlocks and is swung open; my eyes still turn to the living room door.

"Noona?" slips past my mouth before I can take it back and Eunwoo's hand curled around my waist stills its slow irregular tracing of lines and shapes onto skin.

Woodsy scent turning for a moment thicker and heavier, rich pine turning damp and decayed.

And instead of the doe our pack has long since become shattered and incomplete without, another figure steps through, weariness clinging to features and the usually sweet peach turned heavy and cloying; fruit decaying and losing its sweetness.

SJ.

"Hyung." I call, straightening up from my recline, pushing away the thick quilted blanket I'd taken from (Y/N)'s room, the weak, weak almost phantom scent of anise threatened to be lost by the peach.

Standing up and seeing Eunwoo's eyes snap to attention, sharp and assessing.

"Something's happened." Voice hollow and knowing, hands clenching the blanket.

It was a weak, weak substitute for the comfort and warmth (Y/N) imbued.

My eyes flicker across to the clock.

SJ should've finished his shift hours ago and currently neither he nor Eunwoo had contracts or promotions coming up for the products they advertised.

So where had he been for hours to come back looking like this?

He takes a step forward. Then another.

Sinking onto an unoccupied couch and pushing his hair away from his eyes.

Voice soft and empty all at once.

"I need to get some stuff for (Y/N) to give to her at the centre tomorrow." He adds listlessly without answering the observation Eunwoo's made.

And winter... this winter is so precarious. Winter's meant to bring pack warmth and closeness; nights of cuddle piles and pack sleepovers, it's meant to be endless baking with (Y/N) used as a shield against whatever offending item Eunwoo threatens to throw back in retaliation. It's meant to bring large nests and forts and a ridiculous amount of pastel fairy lights strung up to cast soft coloured glows around the dark room. It's meant to be for late night snacking and endless mugs of hot drinks.

And this winter has brought a deep chill fierce and unforgiving that gnaws at bones and turns blood to sludge. It's brought countless sleepless nights curled together and wondering whether somewhere in the city (Y/N) was sleeping well or not. It was a winter without pack scents, without safety, without liveliness.

This winter felt isolating.

And Eunwoo's head tilts, antlers strong and sturdy and standing tall from between dark hair as he stares at SJ.

"Spit it out. Something's wrong and you don't need to sugar-coat it." Voice taking a harder edge even as he stands and his hands draw me close.

Both protective and shielding all the same as if whatever news it is can escape us, that it's not one more bad thing.

"Is it noona? Did... did something happen?" I ask tentatively, hand gripping my mate's just as fiercely, eyes fixed on SJ whose fingers tug at his hair, brushing over his ears.

"Nothing's happened to (Y/N). I met... I met Jangmi today." He murmurs, voice filled with a heaviness I can't understand.

If he's met Jangmi then that's good.

And Eunwoo's scent registers the same surprise then giddiness.

"How is she? It's been a while... "

"She's... Amina's been MIA for months and I only just found out..." and the same giddiness that had swelled like a balloon pops, ears ringing with his words as I feel my hand go slack.

Staring at him with disbelief and shock.

Numb to the words as my lungs fill with heavy cloying pheromones, stare at the buck lowered and curled up on the couch, helpless and vulnerable as terror claws at my insides.

"Talk about being a bad friend... Jangmi's been suffering silently for so long and if I hadn't bumped into her today... we'd have been in the dark still."

He sounds devastated and the scent of the two of them growing overwhelmingly heavy; press onto me from either end but the ringing in my ears hasn't lessened and it feels as if the ground tilts unsteadily under my feet.

It takes the soft grunt and arm steadying me against Eunwoo's own body to realise that the ground is steady but it's my body that sways, my body that's become adrift.

"...it's the trafficker case isn't it? Her disappearance is tied to the case that took (Y/N) noona away from us too." Words hollow and final.

Knowing even without the confirmation.

The case, the traffickers, they kept taking and taking from me, kept taking away people who mattered to me.

SJ's face is torn, struck deep with grief and misery, a slow nod as he processes the words.

"Everything keeps going wrong with the people we know, we care and love... it's... why our pack?" my tone wavers, angry harsh stinging in the corner of my eyes. A furious anger and resentment and hatred simmering vicious and corrosive, curling around my lungs and squeezing painfully.

First (Y/N). Now Amina.

And Jangmi was packless.

Alone.

How much more would this case take from us? How much more would it batter and break until nothing remained?

Had I been so caught up in my pack that I so easily overlooked my friend's?

How had I let myself get to this?

How had I not questioned Amina's absence or lack of messages recently—odder even that we hadn't met for months... how had I not seen warning signs until I was being shown the image of my world falling apart in front of my very eyes.

Eunwoo's hand tightens around me, curling away for an instance before his hand shakily opens his phone, fumbling fingers searching for Jangmi's contact.

The ringing long and ominous and stretching out into painful agony until SJ speaks.

Voice hoarse and rough.

"She might be asleep, I just came back from their apartment after stocking up their kitchen. I made food but I don't even know if she's eaten it—" words weak with their concern, low and rough and antlers dipping when his head lowers.

It was a weak, weak gesture for a buck.

And when Eunwoo's hand falls away, call disconnected, there's the haunting agony that I'd seen; too raw and visceral in the first weeks that (Y/N) had to move away.

This hollowness, this disbelief that no.

Please no.

"How is she?" voice hushed and controlled.

Controlled in a way the fury and rage and tempest in his pheromones can't be.

"Bad. It's... it's like to try make it hurt less she's shutting off biology and instinct." He admits.

If hybrids shut away base needs and denied their biology the fulfilment needed... it didn't reduce them to human, it reduced them to a shell.

If Jangmi was this bad, how was Amina wherever she was?

And unbidden... the thought comes to mind, terrified and nauseating.

Was Amina even alive? Or was she dead? Gone.

I tug at the hand gripping me, drawing away from Eunwoo's hold. Feel his body unconsciously bracket me tighter, voice a low murmur as it falls on deaf ears. Brush his hand away and hurry to the kitchen, tail bristling and standing tall and anxiously alert as I snatch up the phone from the counter. Brush off flour and hurriedly search for Amina's number.

She'd answer. She'd answer.

But the disconnected glaring nothingness echoes painfully loud and glaringly ominous in the quiet of the kitchen, stretches out a greater distance between us that I couldn't unfurl, couldn't close.

It disconnects immediately. Disconnects again. And then again.

Amina pick up.

Amina pick up.

My hand anxiously brushing over the counter, fingers smeared with flour and batter. Stare at stained fingertips with a dull absence, other hand still clutching tightly to the phone. Continue to hear it ring.

And it continues to disconnect.

Disconnects over and over as I scrub the batter off my fingers, scrub at the counters, sweep the flour and reach mechanically for the oven door, bare hand reaching for the tray. Those same fingertips jolting back with a hiss, snatching away red. Pale fingers encircling my wrist and tugging my hand away, cradling it and the scent of wood and smoke. Burning pine; harsh with worry and protective fret and simmering rage.

Drawing my hand away and leading me to the sink, the water chasing the scalding sting and his other hand curling around to tilt my throat, lips brushing gently against my gland.

"Don't hurt yourself Binnie. We've got to be stronger. Stronger than this so we can help." Eunwoo whispers, careful and tender as he dabs my hand dry and applies a thin layer of ointment on the angry line crisscrossing skin slightly.

Rookie mistake.

"Oven gloves are your best friend Binnie, the amount of times bun forgets is astonishing given we started the business together. But remember them, remember your safety whenever you work."

Imagining Jin's fretting feathers rustling, his hand gentle as he steered me towards a seat at the tables, the sight of Eunwoo doing the same so different. His body crowds against mine with a fretting unrest, antlers rubbing against the side of my cheek when his head bends, face tight with worry and a frown tugging at his lips.

"We can only help if we're in a good enough condition to Binnie." Hand cradling mine carefully.

I know.

"I... I know. But her phone won't go through." I whisper, clutching at it, staring at the line of unconnected calls.

His body curls around mine, fierce and tight embrace that squeezes tight enough that it makes the other pain recede slightly for the favour of his inescapable hold.

"We can't help Amina right now, but trust her. She's a fighter. What we can and will do is support Jangmi."

How can I be anyone's support when my own will continues to deteriorate? When I'm crumbling because without my pack, without my own I continue to fall weaker.

Weak to the point I'd been so lost and consumed by (Y/N) having to move away to protect us that I didn't even know a friend had been snatched and taken right from under my eyes.

And now that she's gone, gone... all I can think of and realise is how much I failed her.

And regret too late is a waste.

Meaningless.

And in that moment those months without (Y/N), without knowing what had been happening to Amina become meaningless too.

Months wasted without effort of searching for her.

Months mourning a decision made for the betterment of our pack.

For months I'd narrowed onto pack and forgotten to be a good friend.

"But our pack will heal and our pack will be whole."

I've never doubted my mate but in that instance I wonder, I doubt.

Will we?

And hate myself for thinking it.

-------

The caginess in Eunwoo's body makes me aware how much habits rub off on one another.

Hoarding always expresses itself in nervous fretting and gathering nesting materials, in making sure the cupboards are stocked and the bedrooms are always warm and cushions and pillows piled high. It's in baking large batches and fussing over every small detail, to make it as perfect as I can physically make it.

Now. Now it's in the fretting as he packs up clothes and supplements and files for (Y/N), bag sorted away neatly before gathering more and more supplies for Jangmi.

Biology shut away SJ had said, blearily mumbling it again when he wakes, stumbling out of (Y/N)'s room; like he has countless times but this time guilt and weariness bears down on his shoulders.

See it how he gathers a large, quilted blanket and uses it to cushion all the supplies he settles in the middle of a large box. How his fingers smoothen over teas and the furnishings for hot drinks, drawn right out of a shopping back and carefully nestled and arranged. Adding supplements SJ had gone to pick up from the pharmacy, adding scented jumpers that smell strong of sweet peaches, pine and hazelnut. There's a mixture of medical supplies and comfort food.

Hoarding. His packing and sorting of the supplies is so similar to my own, but every gesture thrums with locked up tension not quite expelled as he moves about the apartment.

Hand curling around SJ's nape, grounding touch and murmuring quietly.

"You go with that sour scent you'll make her feel worse."

Watch as the other buck ducks his head, nodding as he stares at his mug, gripping it tightly.

"I'm going to be strong for Jangmi. I'm going to do everything I can for her."

Voice firm and level.

Steelier but also more settled than I'd heard it last night.

The scent of weak anise clings to him, merges with the strong scent of peaches; heavy with determination and weighted promise. Curls alongside the thin trail of honey that seems to have stuck to skin.

"Good. A strong pack is what we need to be."

A strong pack to overcome the difficulties and challenges.

A strong pack.

Have to be strong.

But shame, heavy and overwhelming, at the prospect of meeting Jangmi. Of meeting her, looking her in the eyes and seeing the damage of being packless and unsupported by friends did to her.

Can I even look her in the eyes? Do we have the right to after we failed her? And lived obliviously absorbed and immersed in our own worlds and lives that we forgot that our worlds had always been in orbit of each other, always entangled. Always one in all truth.

But words are no substitute or explanation for the state we find Jangmi in.

When waiting anxiously outside her apartment, with SJ's voice spiking with alarm and distress and urgency as he clutches the handle and knocks on the door with increasing need just has that nervous pit of raw fear growing stronger. Long minutes that stretch out endlessly until there's the barest sound of shuffling, slow footsteps before the door is unlocked and drawn open from the inside.

Eyes falling onto a rumpled, small figure that leans against the door, face void of glasses and still lined with fatigue, swaying and leaning against the wood.

SJ's face goes blank, wiped clean of the worry and concern, posture crumpling and immediately crowding close, nudging the door open to get to her, arms wrapping around her with palpable relief, body bracketing hers immediately. Peach swamping and curling around the heavy honey I'd caught a trail of.

Hear the disoriented mumble as we pass through the doorway, carefully closed behind me, voice sleepy and confused.

"We were knocking and calling for ages Mi... why didn't you open the door?" SJ murmurs against her temple, almost anxious as his antlers rub against skin, clutching her protectively.

See bleary eyes blink as she curls into the embrace.

"I... you just left a while ago. Did you forget something?"

And something inside me chills, shivers rippling over skin.

SJ had come back late last night.

And the clench of his jaw is the only indication that he too notices something's wrong as he draws back, thumbing under dark circles with a gentle fragility.

"No nothing... that was yesterday Mi, did you just wake?"

Examining the way exhaustion clings to her, seems to make the curl of her body smaller and frailer.

Painfully fragile and teetering between crumpling and shattering and holding on; sleep laced eyes unfocused as she peers round to us, rubbing her eyes.

Ears flickering as she registers the scents even if she can't make us out properly without her glasses.

Something SJ hyung moves to remedy as he carefully draws her forward, immediately tugged into Eunwoo's arms.

"It's been a while panda bear."

Hear the soft mumble barely as she curls closer, sleepy hazy embrace as she hugs back.

Hear her echoed murmur as she nods, ears flickering and body seeming to shrink and curl as her eyes flutter, dark lashes brushing skin and then the dark brown irises focusing on me as I move closer.

Hand reaching for mine and squeezing fiercely.

"I'm sorry I wasn't a good enough packmate to protect Amina Binnie." She apologises, voice heavy and wavering.

See arms tighten around her and my own grip grow fiercer as I shake my head.

Lips brushing across her temple.

"No. You did everything you could, now let us do everything we can as well."

(AND CUT! SCENE. ON A PACK REUNION!! GAHHHHHHH! THE AMOUNT OF FUN I HAD WRITING SIDE CHARACTERS POV THIS CHAPTER AND HOW MUCH I LOVE LOVE LOVED WRITING ALL SORTS OF BACKSTORIES AND REALLY GETTING TO EXPLORE DYNAMICS BEYOND THE BANGTAN PACK JUST MADE MY DAY! AND I HOPE YOU ALL ENJOY READING THIS TOO~ THE WEB GROWS TIGHTER, THERE'S A WHOLE PACK CONNECTION TO THE MISSING OFFICER AND THERE'S SO MUCH HURTY FLUFF TO COME THAT JUST GAHHH! COULD DIE FROM EXCITEMENT. @Midiiplier MY BEAUTIFUL DARLING HOPE I DID EVERYTHING WE TALK JUSTICE AND HOPE, HOPE I CAN CONTINUE TO EXCITE YOU~ CAN'T WAIT TO SEE WHAT YOU ALL THOUGHT! TAKE CARE AND STAY SAFE!)

Question... question, question... wrong phone call or accidental call experience?

Mine is~ I really shouldn't have answered but once when my dad was flying out he called my mum before boarding the plane and she was busy so I picked up. And he was just saying bye and that he loved her and he'll miss her—and I just. Silent. I didn't wanna interrupt and cut him off but I also knew that wasn't MY phone call to hear so I felt so bad for being the one to pick up and just said at the end. I love you dad but lemme get mum first. And just. Vanished.

Borahae! 💜💜💜

PurpleQueenie <3