A week had passed since Hana had been taken, and the weight of her absence hung heavy over the penthouse. The once lively and vibrant atmosphere was now thick with tension and fear. Every day that went by without a clue, without any sign of where she was, deepened the despair that had taken root in each of them.

Namjoon, their leader, had been tireless in his efforts to find her. He had barely slept, his mind constantly racing with strategies, possibilities, and the worst-case scenarios that he forced himself to push aside. But now, even he was beginning to falter under the crushing weight of their collective failure.

Jungkook, Taehyung, and Jimin—the maknae line—were devastated. Their usual exuberance and energy were gone, replaced by a hollow, aching emptiness. Jungkook had taken to pacing the penthouse like a caged animal, his fists clenching and unclenching as he battled the helplessness that gnawed at him. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Hana’s face, her smile, and the thought of her being hurt, being afraid, tore him apart.

“She’s out there, and we’re here doing nothing!” Jungkook had shouted one night, his voice cracking with frustration and fear. He had punched a wall, his knuckles splitting open, but the pain was nothing compared to the agony in his heart.

“Calm down, Kook,” Jimin had said, his own voice trembling with the effort to stay composed. But he wasn’t calm—none of them were. Jimin had always been the one to soothe the others, to bring warmth and light into their lives. But now, he felt like he was drowning in the darkness that Hana’s absence had left behind. He was haunted by the last argument he had with her, the hurt in her eyes when she had looked at him. He couldn’t shake the feeling that if he had just been better, if he hadn’t argued with her, she might not have been taken.

Taehyung had withdrawn into himself, his usual bright smile nowhere to be found. He sat for hours, staring at the door, as if willing her to walk through it. The silence was suffocating, and the fear that something terrible had happened to her was a constant, gnawing presence in his mind. Every passing minute felt like an eternity, and the uncertainty was driving him to the edge.

Yoongi, Jin, and Hobi weren’t faring any better. They had all thrown themselves into the search, using every resource, every connection they had to find Hana. But as the days dragged on with no new leads, their desperation grew. Jin had always been the caretaker of the group, the one who made sure everyone was fed, rested, and okay. But now, he was the one falling apart, his mind constantly replaying the moment they found Hana’s phone, lying abandoned on the sidewalk.

“We’ll find her,” Yoongi had said more than once, his voice cold and steady. But there was an edge to his tone, a tightness in his jaw that belied the fear he was trying to suppress. Yoongi had always been the one who kept his emotions in check, but the thought of Hana being hurt, of her suffering, was more than he could bear. He had never felt this helpless before, and it terrified him.

Hobi, usually the ray of sunshine in their lives, had grown quiet and withdrawn. The house felt empty without Hana’s laughter, without the warmth she brought into their lives. He missed her so much it hurt, a deep, aching pain that he couldn’t escape. He had tried to keep the others’ spirits up, but it was becoming harder with each passing day.

The longer Hana was gone, the more they all began to unravel. The bond they had worked so hard to repair with her was fraying at the edges, strained by the fear that they might never see her again.

In the cold, dark basement where Hana was being held, time had lost all meaning. The days and nights blurred together in an endless cycle of pain and fear. The men who had taken her were relentless, their cruelty knowing no bounds. They didn’t care about her—she was just a pawn in their game, a way to hurt the boys, to weaken them.

Hana’s body was bruised and battered, her spirit hanging on by a thread. The torture was unending—beatings, starvation, and psychological torment designed to break her. They wanted information about the boys, about their operations, but she refused to give them anything. She knew that the moment she gave in, the moment she broke, she would lose everything.

But as the days wore on, her resolve began to weaken. She was so tired, so cold, and the pain was unbearable. She had no idea how much longer she could hold on. The only thing keeping her going was the thought of the boys, the belief that they were out there, searching for her. She had to hold on for them, had to survive until they found her.

But it was so hard. The torture was relentless, and there were moments when she thought she might give up, might let the darkness take her. She was scared, more scared than she had ever been in her life. The pain, both physical and emotional, was more than she could bear. She wanted it to stop, wanted the nightmare to end.

But she couldn’t let herself give up. She couldn’t let them win. She had to hold on, had to believe that the boys would find her. They had to.

Hana lay on the cold, hard floor, her body trembling with pain and exhaustion. She was weak, so weak, and she knew she was close to breaking. But she couldn’t give up, not yet. She thought of Namjoon, of Jin, of Yoongi, and the others. She thought of the life they had been building together, the future they had talked about. She had to survive for that, for them.

Tears slipped down her cheeks, but she didn’t bother to wipe them away. She was too tired, too broken. All she could do was wait, wait and hope that the boys would find her before it was too late.

Back at the penthouse, the boys were unraveling. The longer Hana was gone, the more they began to fear the worst. They were exhausted, both physically and emotionally, but they refused to give up. They couldn’t give up. Namjoon had doubled their efforts, calling in favors from every contact they had, but so far, nothing had led them to Hana.

The maknae line was struggling the most. Jungkook had become obsessed with finding her, spending every waking moment searching for any clue, any hint of where she might be. He barely ate, barely slept, and the strain was beginning to show. Taehyung had withdrawn into himself, his usual warmth and light replaced by a cold, hard determination to bring Hana home. Jimin was barely holding it together, his guilt and fear eating away at him.

Jin, Yoongi, and Hobi were no better. They had all been through so much together, had faced danger and death more times than they could count, but this was different. This was Hana, the woman they loved, the woman they had vowed to protect. And they had failed her.

The penthouse, once a place of warmth and love, was now filled with tension and despair. The boys were barely speaking to each other, each lost in their own fear and guilt. The bond that had held them together for so long was fraying at the edges, strained by the weight of Hana’s absence.

But they couldn’t afford to fall apart. They had to find her, had to bring her home. No matter what it took, no matter what they had to do, they would find Hana. They had to.

As the days passed, their desperation grew. They knew they were running out of time. Hana was strong, but even she had her limits. They had to find her, and soon, before it was too late.

And when they did, they would make sure that no one ever hurt her again. They would protect her, keep her safe, and never let her go. They just had to find her.