The afternoon sunlight streamed through the large windows of the Min mansion, casting golden hues over the polished floors. Yoongi sat in the library, his back hunched as he scribbled aimlessly in his notebook. His hand moved mechanically, sketching notes and lines of music that lacked the precision and passion he usually poured into his work. His mind, however, wasn’t on the page—it was still replaying Hyungwoo’s last phone call.

"Hoseok didn’t have time. You’ve done nothing to make it right."

The words rang in his ears, the weight of them pressing heavily on his chest.

A sharp knock at the front door pulled him out of his thoughts. He froze, his pen pausing mid-stroke. There was something ominous about the knock, a sense of inevitability that made his stomach twist.

“Yoongi?” Seokjin’s voice carried faintly through the house as he walked toward the door. Yoongi quickly stood, his body tense. He already knew who it was.

The low murmur of voices confirmed his suspicion, and moments later, the study door opened to reveal Hyungwoo standing in the doorway.

“Hyungwoo,” Yoongi said stiffly, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “What are you doing here?”

Hyungwoo stepped into the room, his expression calm but unwavering. “We need to talk.”

Yoongi’s jaw tightened. He closed his notebook and gestured for Hyungwoo to sit.

Hyungwoo didn’t sit. Instead, he leaned against the desk, his sharp eyes locked onto Yoongi. “You’ve been avoiding me,” he said, his tone measured.

“I’ve been busy,” Yoongi replied curtly, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Busy,” Hyungwoo repeated, his voice laced with skepticism. “Busy doing what? Ignoring the truth?”

Yoongi flinched at the words but didn’t respond.

Hyungwoo took a step closer, his voice dropping lower. “Hoseok trusted you, Yoongi. You were the only one who knew what he was going through, the only one who could have stopped what happened.”

“Stop it,” Yoongi muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

“But you didn’t,” Hyungwoo pressed, his tone sharper now. “And now he’s gone, and the person responsible is walking free—because of you.”

Yoongi’s head snapped up, his eyes blazing with anger. “Don’t you think I know that? Don’t you think I live with that every single day?”

“Then do something about it,” Hyungwoo said, his voice steady but insistent. “You owe him that much.”

“I can’t,” Yoongi said, his voice breaking. “I can’t do it, Hyungwoo. If I say anything, it’ll destroy everything—my family, my brothers, their future. I can’t be the one to tear it all apart.”

Hyungwoo stared at him, his expression hard. “And what about Hoseok’s family? What about me? Do we not matter?”

“Of course you matter,” Yoongi said, his voice trembling. “But this... this isn’t just about me. It’s bigger than that.”

Unbeknownst to them, Jimin had stopped just outside the study, frozen by the sound of Hyungwoo’s voice. He hadn’t intended to eavesdrop, but the tension in their conversation was impossible to ignore.

As he pressed closer to the door, he caught snippets of their argument: Hoseok’s name, accusations, and Yoongi’s broken responses.

Who’s Hoseok? Jimin thought, his chest tightening with unease. And why does it sound like Yoongi-hyung is blaming himself for something?

He bit his lip, debating whether to walk away or confront Yoongi later. But the more he listened, the more he realized this wasn’t a simple argument—it was something far deeper, something that had been weighing on Yoongi for a long time.

Hyungwoo’s voice softened, but his words hit just as hard. “You can’t keep living like this, Yoongi. Hiding won’t make the guilt go away. It won’t bring Hoseok back.”

Yoongi slumped into the chair behind the desk, burying his face in his hands. “I know that. But what do you want me to do, Hyungwoo? If I speak out, if I tell the truth, it’ll destroy my family. Do you want me to lose them too?”

Hyungwoo’s gaze softened for a moment, but his resolve didn’t waver. “I want you to do what’s right. For Hoseok. For yourself.”

The room fell into a heavy silence, the only sound the faint ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner.

Hyungwoo finally stood straight, adjusting his coat. “I’ll leave you to think about it. But don’t wait too long, Yoongi. The truth has a way of coming out, whether you’re ready for it or not.”

With that, he turned and left, his footsteps echoing down the hallway.

Jimin ducked into the nearest room, his heart pounding as he heard Hyungwoo’s footsteps approaching. He waited until the front door closed before stepping out into the hallway, his mind racing.

What should I do? Should I tell someone?

He looked toward the study, where Yoongi was still seated, his head bowed. He had never seen Yoongi look so small, so utterly defeated.

I have to do something, Jimin thought, his chest tightening with determination.

Meanwhile, Yoongi sat in the library, the echoes of his conversation with Hyungwoo replaying in his mind. His hands trembled as he reached for his meds in his left ppcket.The weight of the truth was too heavy, crushing his ability to think, to breathe, to feel anything but guilt and fear.

He thought of Hoseok—his laughter, his warmth, the way he had always believed in Yoongi. And then he thought of that night, the way everything had been taken from him in an instant.

“I’m sorry,” Yoongi whispered into the silence, his voice breaking. “I’m so sorry.”

Downstairs, Seokjin stood by the window, watching as Hyungwoo’s car disappeared down the long driveway. His fists clenched at his sides, his mind racing with questions.

“Yoongi,” he murmured to himself, his voice filled with a mix of anger and concern. He noticed since hyungwoo’s arrival yoongi has been acting strange. He has been more..... distant....quite and all in negetive way.

Later that evening, Jimin found Seokjin in the kitchen, going over wedding plans with Namjoon. He hesitated in the doorway, unsure how to bring up what he had overheard.

“Jimin?” Seokjin said, noticing his nervous expression. “What’s wrong?”

Jimin stepped closer, his voice low. “It’s about Yoongi-hyung. I think... I think something’s really wrong.”

Seokjin’s expression immediately turned serious. “What do you mean?”

Jimin hesitated before saying, “I overheard him talking to someone—Hyungwoo. They were arguing about something. I don’t know the whole story, but it sounded bad.”

“Hyungwoo?” Namjoon asked, his brow furrowing.

Seokjin placed his hands on the counter, his jaw tightening. “I knew something was going on. Yoongi’s been acting strange ever since Hyungwoo started showing up.”

“What should we do?” Jimin asked, his voice tinged with worry.

Seokjin straightened, his expression resolute. “I’m going to talk to him. He’s my brother. He might not want to tell me, but I’ll make him.”

In his room, Jimin stared out the window, his thoughts consumed by Yoongi’s pain. He didn’t understand everything, but one thing was clear—he wasn’t going to let Yoongi carry this burden alone.

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