Violence ahead:

Jin turned almost immediately hearing a slight sound at his back. His hands covered his head in a reflex so the hit followed the sound landed on his hands, not the head. His grip on the Walther loosened and it dropped on the floor.
With a second hit, he dropped to his knees and rolled further inside the foyer.

He tried to block the darkness that was threatening to cloud his senses.
The intruder wasn't stupid. He shoved himself behind the wall that was separating the bedroom from the foyer.

Jin got up and leaned against the door from inside the foyer, trying to control his breathing while keeping an ear alert to hear any unusual sound from the opposite side of the wall.

The breathing sound was so mild, but Jin caught it right opposite from where he was standing.
Without any warning, he launched himself into the next room. But with his utmost surprise, the person was even swifter and hit the same spot on his wrist where he hit before and freed himself from Jin's grip. His movements were sharp and precise, and to fuel it, there was the fear of getting caught and desperation in that person's movements.

So he hit the place again and again until Jin's chokehold loosened around his neck and he freed himself.

Jin couldn't measure the details of the face in the dim light before he ran for the door and dashed out in an instance.

Going after him without knowing if there was any trap was stupid. So Jin stayed put and locked his door. His briefcase was on the nightstand. An attempt to open the case was made, clear from the signs of scratches around its locks.

Jin almost scoffed to himself. Somebody came here to ensure his identity. And it's too early to assume it's Perrera, but apart from his, who was there to suspect?

Jin came back and took his shoes off and went for a quick shower. He stood a long time in front of the mirror, the bullet wound on his shoulder from more than a month ago in Libya was almost healed, nonetheless, that was a minor scratch.

He caressed the wound from North Korea. Just below the ribcage on the left side. The injury wasn't serious, but it caused a lot of bleeding. It was yet healing but a lot better than before.

Jin took out the antiseptic solution from the first aid kit to clean the wound and gulped down two painkillers. After cleaning the wound slowly and wrapping a clean bandage around it, he stood there in front of the mirror. Before putting on the shirt, his eyes lingered on the old and almost pale scar on his left bicep.

That was stupid, he thought. He touched the mark on there and his finger lingered on it for a while, but like always, he didn't regret what he had done there almost seven years ago.

Arya was looking at the things that have been spread on her bed right now. Things that she didn't remember but were important enough that she put those in the box before she left.
She picked up the notebook for the third time.
There was not much entry in it and she almost memorized everything within.
Judging her personality of not sticking in any matter long, it was quite understandable that she didn't maintain the notebook consistently.

And whatever she wrote in there, it was now an enigma to herself. The incident she wrote down was funny yet not funny. Like how Hobi spilled the whole MRE ration in the night operation after Arya just yelled at him suddenly or the time she had to almost carry Jin to the finishing line.

Wait, what? Why?
Why she had to carry him? And how even that was funny to her?

Arya again started to read the notebook in an attempt to almost read the mysterious girl she used to be but no more.

What interested her was what didn't change even now. In her every entry, there were two persons. Hobi and Jin. It's ok if Hobi were there, they were practically best friends. But Jin?
She wrote about Jin in all the ways possible of being boring, pain in the ass, dumb and painfully prim and proper.

Writing about him is not being "fun" to be around at all, but all she did was stick to his side to annoy him to the core. Arya faces palmed thinking about the incidents, seriously Arya, how thick-skinned you could be?

And suddenly she remembered. Like a streak of light flash and with almost a crackling headache.
She arranged everything in the box. Picking up the old watch, she stared at it for a few seconds. It seemed oddly familiar. Remembering something, she suddenly reached for the box and pulled out all the photos.

There, there it was!

The watch was there in the photo, on Jin's wrist.

She again frowned, Jin wouldn't wear another person's watch. And if it was his, to begin with, what was it doing here in her box?

With the increasing headache, she clenched her jaws and shoved everything back in the box, and pushed the box under the bed.
She plopped on the bed and closed her eyes.

If Jin was here, probably she'd have received a polite scolding about taking the shoes off and changing before climbing up on the bed or some basic etiquette.

Arya closed her eyes after having painkillers with the soju she stored beside her bed.

Why did Jin hoard a pile of Soju in his seller if he isn't a drinker himself?

Arya sighed a little, the headache was killing her. It was no use trying to sleep. Ultimately she'd sleep around sometimes in the morning.  She reminded herself to go to the bank the next day, withdraw all the money from all the accounts she made, and create a new account. That would be easy for her than changing the identity every time for each bank. How much she deposited? Would she need another job as she planned?
She also needed an apartment.

Eun Byul told her that she could look for a studio apartment across the street she lives in. The tenants were already moving out. Arya agreed to go with her to have a look for herself. She prayed that her account is enough to cover the expense of a studio apartment. She needs to sort out her plans.

Plans...plans?

Arya drifters into some fragments of flashes in her mind.

It was hot in her uniform. At this particular time of the day, it was always hot. And the instructor was probably made of ice or even simply he liked to torture the cadets, so all the air coolers were turned off.

The uniform was made of thick fabric which was adapted for blotting out the sweats which the cadets do most - sweating the hell out each day.

It was just class- the tactics class.
They haven't been here more than three days and this was their first academic time.
Arya was already sleepy the moment the lecture started. And that's just not her, everyone around her desk was drowsy. And why wouldn't they?

They were continuously on run. Run means literally. They were running everywhere, physical training was exhausting and arguably inhumane. They even didn't let them have a proper meal from the moment they entered the academy.

They haven't slept. Of the instructors who broke the fall ins and ordered them to return to the dormitories, these seniors were waiting for them there.

She barely slept the first day, also the second day, judging the extra punishment she was getting for her quirky and over-enthusiastic self and the behavior in her first day.

In the daze, she saw a body sitting in an upright position with impeccable mannerism and order and in his face was the most confusing thing ever- "concentration".

Arya couldn't fathom how he was still managing to maintain a straight face and concentrate on the lecture.

"Boring," Arya mumbled before concentrating on her sleep.

"You, get up!" the voice of the instructor instantly jerked her up from her daze. She was almost on the verge of standing when she realized it wasn't for her.

She hid a sigh of relief.

"What is the first casualty on the battlefield?"

"First casualty?"
Everyone was saying something among themselves, "infantry,"

"No, scouts,"

"No, communications."

"comrades."

"soldiers."

"the defenders."

The instructor was smiling, "Can't answer?"

"What is the correct one, sir?" Someone asked from behind.

"Depends on how you perceive the art of war," The instructor smiled, "I see you are quiet, Cadet Seokjin, what is your answer?"

Jin was silent for a few seconds and then answered, "The plan."

The whole Class fell silent in an instant.
The first casualty of a war is the plan. The first thing to die on a battlefield is a perfectly planned warplane. In the time of war, a plan is the one that never goes the way it was arranged or never executed perfectly. It destroys first.

The instructor was impressed but Arya was impressed even more. Cause never did she think that someone else also can think what she was thinking.
A plan.

"I have been instructing here for years, cadets. And that's the answer I never had before and maybe the most accurate one I have ever received. Seokjin, meet me after the class."

"Yes sir," his answer was short.

"Such a golden boy!" a boy beside Arya rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Why someone has to be this perfect? It makes me want to choke him. Such a showoff."

"I disagree," Arya smiled.

"I guess you were the one who was most displeased with him until now," the boy frowned, "You said it itches you how boring he is."

"Boring, yes," Arya agreed, "Show off? Nope." Arya again smiled, "I am thinking now that he is probably the least show off among us."

"Don't tell me you are also smitten by him already," the boy teased.

"No, but I found a match. At last." Arya smiled to herself.

And in the crackling headache, Arya smiled. The recall was sweet and impressive. Jin was the disciple anyone can give example and be proud of. And thinking now Arya realized, she was also proud of him seeing how far he has grown. He is a changed man, yet he is exactly like he was before.
A lot of things were still unanswered, but she really can't get mad at Jin.

It's all her doing, not Jin's. No matter how much she wanted to accuse Jin of not telling her anything, she couldn't just end up being mad at him.

And it's been a problem that this stone man was constantly on her mind since the time they met.

What was he doing right now? He is on the mission to meet the arms dealer all alone. Is he safe?
Arya groaned and pulled a pillow over her head. She has a lot on her plate, she shouldn't constantly think about somebody who doesn't even care about seeking her after she left.

She was worried about him cause she always thought of him as a friend, a close friend.
But did he think of her the same? Or to him she was just that annoyingly stubborn girl who took it in her hand to stick with him everywhere and annoy the hell out of him, changing his world upside down?

Hell! Arya groaned and got up, she was probably gonna die from that headache. What the hell is that man doing now and where the hell was he?

[ It has been a few days since I have been super busy with life and work. Sorry for the slow-building story, but I really don't want to rush this book. I have many things to tell with this story and a well-built-up base can be a good foundation for the story I want to tell.

Sorry if the story is being boring. I am in this constant hesitation of not expressing what I want and how I want to tell the story well enough. Many people here in Wattpad write amazing narratives though English is not their first language as well as mine, that didn't set a boundary on their wonderful expertise on the narratives, description, etc.

But in my case, it's a bare minimum and just not enough.  With my previous book, I was somehow satisfied with the writing style or the language overall, but this time I just constantly feel that it's not enough. I am feeling like I am not adding enough depths to the characters as I wanted. I want to improve in this book and I am slightly stressing out over it.

But I really want to say that, if you guys decide to stick with it, I'll try to make the book worth reading. ( apart from my very boring writing skill).........

Until next time...Hyvästi 😄😄]