"Happy birthday."

I bend down and whisper. The edge of my lips graze the lobe of his ear, and only the cool, pleasurable tingle that shoots up my spine every time I touch him reminds me that I've come closer than I'd expected.

Only a slight trace of my previous drunken state remains, an occasional stinging headache. Drinking was a really bad idea for me if I couldn't even take a few small shots. Even if I turned twenty one, or thirty, for that matter, I'd never purposely put a glass of alcohol to my lips.

"Thank you." He says back, voice hushed and quiet. I knew that the party and all the congratulations had been yesterday, but today was his real birthday. And as far as I knew, no one had told him this after the birthday party.

I joke, partly the truth and most of me already aware that there was no possible way he'd say yes.

"Does that mean I get to come along on your assignment today?"

"No."

Of course.

I can't help the disappointed cloud coming over my face, and like anytime else, V doesn't fail to notice.

His hand tightens around mine.

"Tzuyu," He murmurs silently. "We've gone over this. Your wound still hasn't fully healed. If it reopens, then it might kill you. I can't take that risk. Besides, you still haven't completely gotten over the hangover yet."

I'd listened for a thousand times, but never failed once to stay quiet.

"Yeah, I understand." I say, trying to lighten up the mood with a smile. "Just messing with you. Do you need help with the back?"

He never needs help.

He says yes anyway.

My smile growing wider, I shift to face the undone straps on his battle clothes. This mission wasn't hard— just a typical rich, arrogant man that needed to be taken care of. Unlike the others, this one was lax. Which meant higher chance of success, more probability that they'd come back unscathed.

Which was why I'd asked to go.

"It's going to be okay," His eyes darting to the rest of the members, he quickly reaches down and brushes his lips against mine. When he pulls away, my face is colored and his is beginning to.

"That was," I stutter, pleased and shocked at the same time.

"Unexpected." V finishes my sentence, flicking my hair over my shoulder as he gives me a slight smile. "I find that it gets more of a reaction out of you. Not to mention that I've been wanting to do it for the past minute."

My blush deepens.

"It's going to be fine," He repeats. "Jungkook and Jimin will stay with you— they're skilled enough to protect you. And to keep you company."

Of course.

Jungkook still had healing cuts from the horrible ordeal a week ago. Jimin had the gunshot wound that was almost closed, but would be drastic if it opened.

"Right." I conclude, and he breathes.

"Don't be rash."

That's the last thing he says before following Jin and Hoseok out the front door. Only when his presence has dissipated, I can find myself to breathe. Gosh, he still did that to me. It was ridiculous— we'd seen each other for entire months.

"Ready to play, Noona?" Jungkook asks happily, watching the door swing shut behind Yoongi. He hands me a game console, and I look at the sleek controller with a smile.

Jimin has already taken his spot on the right, singing something that I can barely make out. He flexes his fingers like he was some professional— making both me and Jungkook smirk.

We both were very aware we could destroy him in a minute— tops.

When the electronic music begins to flow out of the speakers, lights flashing, on the screen, a sudden thumping sound fills the room. The noise is hollow—

And Jungkook looks around, his eyes calculative. While I pass it on for just a regular noise, maybe someone taking out their trash—

Jimin and Jungkook's body immediately tenses, freezing up in ice from head to toe. Both of them remain immobile for a few, long seconds before breaking into smiles that I know are fake. Forced.

I wasn't stupid enough not to be able to tell a fake smile from a genuine one.

"Alright, Noona. Choo—"

The sound repeats. And this time, it gets my attention as well.

No sound like that would happen again unless intended.

"Secure Noona." Jungkook hisses, his voice suddenly sharp and forceful. Jimin's hands pull me back, pushing me against the far side of the wall.

Away from the window.

"Damn it." Jungkook hisses, as soon as he glances out the window. He hurls a pillow angrily to the wall, causing it to explode into a thousand glittering feathers. "Dammit!"

"Why? What's wrong?" I quickly look to Jimin for explanations, but his face is tightened— closed up. Thinking. That meant he was thinking. Focusing.

"Of course." He suddenly says. "Distracting the hyungs with a mission. Leaving the vulnerable ones behind. Taking their time. They're back."

Who?

Who's back?

When I force myself past Jimin's clutch and look out into the drab landscape, I see something that wasn't there before.

A sign— a circle encased in a diamond. The symbol is spray painted, the paint itself dark as night. I don't get to see much more after that as Jungkook hurls me over his shoulder, ignoring my surprised shriek.

"Let me down, Kook!" I threaten, pounding on his broad back. When I look up, I see Jimin— pulling off knives and wielding them over his chest. A sudden rush of fear spills over my logic, and I freeze for a second before I continue.

"What's that sign? Who's back? Jungkook, please— tell me what's going on!"

"Not enough time," He gasps as his eyes dart back and forth. With one swift motion, he places me inside a small closet and gives me a firm gaze.

"No matter what happens, Noona. You will not leave this closet. Lives depend on it— especially yours. Do not take a single step out. Do you understand me?"

His voice is so authoritative. Commanding— tone adjusted to coax people to agreement. Even before my emotional cortex acts up, my instinctive side makes me nod.

"Good Noona."

With those words, he shuts the door completely— making the closet descend into darkness. The sound of my harsh breathing is the only thing audible in the confined space, cutting me off from the rest of the world and from reality.

I had to keep calm.

Had to listen— had to know what I would do next.

Because there was absolutely no possible way that I'd leave Jungkook and Jimin out there to fend for themselves. Even though all I wanted to was jump out there and help as much as I could, I knew that my presence there would only drag them
down.

They would be obliged to keep me out of harm's way, therefore leaving themselves more vulnerable. And besides, even if I was decent with a knife, whoever the two boys were about to face would be capable of disarming and killing me within a single second.

No— running out there blindly wasn't a smart move.

My talents lay in strategy— in the art of planning, instead of direct combat. That part was V's area, and most definitely not mine.

Had to think.

Had to come up with something— and quickly.

But my mind remains blank. Empty, like the emotions of panic and terror had succeeded in clouding my logic. Frustration only takes its place before I force myself to simmer down.

I had to be calm.

I had to think like this was chess.

Immediately, my mind clears, and I see the chessboard— with its dark and white squares and the battleground. I see the black pawns advance, coming towards my bishops.

Jimin and Jungkook.

They are cornered, under the wrath of the calmly advancing pieces. And those pieces are the queen— accompanied by the rook.

Two of the most powerful pieces in the game.

Cornered— with all my other pieces trapped behind to assist. I'm in a terrible position— a position that I would've never have put myself in.

Move the bishops and get devoured by the queen. Stay in the same square and get slain by the rook.

My mind spins as I look for a solution. There has to be one— there was always an answer. Problems didn't exist without solutions, and solutions couldn't exist without problems.

I see the other gamemaster smile at me under his mask, his eyes glittering malice and pure darkness as he prepares to make his killing move.

But I am the knight.

The one that can pass blockades— leap over enemies like they are air. Capable of riding without hinder, striking fast and swift, before anyone can get ahold of me.

I am the knight, and I can save the bishops. I can change the game, turn the tables.

The gamemaster has made a mistake.

The tingling of excitement sparks up my fingertips, my mind whirring to life. Unexplained ecstasy makes my lights flash, and I know that this is my battlefield. That this is where I belong.

Turning chess into reality.

Time to play.