Still My Venus

What's on your mind?

Taehyung freshened up. Although it was incredibly difficult, he managed to avoid putting weight on his swollen ankle.

The painkiller was already working, and he secretly thanked Jungkook for this unexpected care.

He slipped into the dark green sweatshirt and beige trousers that had been neatly laid out for him.

Even though they were oversized, they suited him perfectly. How does someone even think to pull all of this together in the middle of the night?

It was incredible.

The man isn't just organized; he's a damn miracle.

With the help of the crutches, he stepped out of the room in search of Mrs. Kim, though a small part of him wished that a certain doe-eyed man would show up in front of him instead.

‘Maybe he is still here somewhere.’

He navigated down the corridor step by step.

Empty.

He reached the expansive living room, only to spot Mrs. Kim sitting peacefully with her back turned toward him, sipping her morning tea.

Still no sign of him.

Without even realizing it, Taehyung's lips flared out into a cute, disappointed little pout.

‘Maybe he's in the kitchen?’

He stepped forward and averted his gaze to the open kitchen.

He scanned every corner with laser intensity, as if he were determined to conjure the one he was looking for right out of the kitchen cabinets.

"Looking for someone, dear?" Mrs. Kim’s smooth voice cut through the air before she even turned around, a knowing smile playing on her lips.

Taehyung froze mid-scan, his cheeks instantly detonating into a violent shade of red.

She smiled at him warmly, making the morning a pleasant one.

Walking toward him, she gently helped him sit comfortably on the sofa.

“How is your sprain, son?” she asked, inspecting his ankle by gently placing it on the table in front of them.

“Oh... it’s getting worse.” Her expression morphed into instant motherly concern.

Taehyung really liked the way she looked at his ankle, inspecting it with as much care as if he were a delicate flower she had grown in her own garden.

She was a wonderful woman.

“I will book an appointment with the doctor,” she said, leaning forward to grab her phone, but Taehyung protested.

“Auntie, it's okay. I've taken the painkiller, and the crutches are really helpful. I'm sure I can manage.”

“By the way, son... these crutches...” Mrs. Kim looked confusedly at the crutches leaning against the sofa.

Taehyung followed her gaze and instantly understood why she was so confused.

‘So she didn't know.’

He managed to explain everything that had happened in the morning, pretending to be completely casual about it.

However, he pathetically failed when Mrs. Kim spotted his faint blush, his frequent stuttering, and his evasive eye contact.

Mrs. Kim mentally smirked.

‘Painkillers to crutches... how medically tactical.’

Her gaze thoughtfully assessed the clothes he was currently wearing.

‘A perfect fit, huh? This mission seems easier than I thought.’

They chatted casually and ate breakfast together, which she had prepared while waiting for him to wake up.

Afterward, she wrapped a bandage around his ankle to limit its movement and prevent further swelling.

Taehyung was seated on the sofa again, but his mind was somewhere else.

‘Should I ask her… about HIM? No, no… wouldn't that be weird?’

He shook his head involuntarily.

‘Where does he work? Is he a doctor?’

He looked down at his swollen ankle.

‘Or… a chef?’ Taehyung unknowingly smacked his pink lips at the thought of a crispy, cheesy fried chicken pizza.

“When will he come back?” He was surprised by his own voice.

Unknowingly, his internal thoughts had spoken aloud, immediately catching Mrs. Kim’s attention.

She looked puzzled at first but replied to the flustered boy with a warm smile.

“Next Sunday, maybe.”

Taehyung managed a smile back, but it was incredibly awkward. ‘Fine. There's nothing to be embarrassed about when it comes to getting to know your neighbors.’

“Where does he work?” this time, he asked confidently. Why not?

“Didn't he tell you yesterday?” She looked a bit surprised.

“I assumed you two had talked about this yesterday.”

Taehyung shook his head in a silent 'no.'

“Oh... He works in Tokyo and.. ”

Ding-dong…

Both of their heads snapped toward the door.

“Let me see who it is,” Mrs. Kim told him, standing up and moving toward the entryway. She swung the door open to find a young man standing in the hallway.

“Morning, ma'am. Are you Mrs. Kim?"

"Yes."

"I'm the new home nurse from the agency,” he said, presenting his ID card and coming straight to the point.

She nodded, her mind processing the sudden arrival as she stepped aside to let him in.

‘What’s on your mind, Kook?’

✨_____________✨

After the ceremony concluded, the door to the spacious office clicked open, and his personal secretary, Choi Minho, stepped in.

“The National Election Commission just finalized the handover protocols,” Minho said, his voice flat, completely stripped of the public performance he had maintained all day.

“Now, the entire state apparatus belongs to you, Sir. The National Intelligence Service, the Armed Forces, the Prosecutor-General’s Office, the tactical strike units. Every wiretap, every black budget, and every trigger.”

Namjoon didn't look up.

His eyes remained locked on a heavy black envelope resting on his desk.

A congratulatory note from the most feared man in the country.

“The Wolf,” Namjoon whispered, the name heavy with a decade of suppressed rage.

“For ten years, Woo-seok ran this country from the shadows like a god." Namjoon raised his head just to look at his secretary.

"He bought prosecutors in bulk, put judges on his payroll, orchestrated human trafficking, and turned the streets into a slaughterhouse." His anger flared.

"He thought he was untouchable because this country was too weak and corrupt to fight back.”

“He still thinks he is,” Minho replied coldly, leaning back against the edge of the desk. “The Syndicate sent a ‘tribute’ two hours ago. A congratulatory message. They’re expecting the same tacit arrangements the previous administration gave them. They think you're just another politician who can be bribed or intimidated.”

A low huckle escaped Namjoon's lips.

A sound entirely devoid of humor.

A lethal, unwavering focus in his dark eyes.

“That is his fatal mistake,” Namjoon said, his voice dropping an octave, echoing with absolute finality.

“Woo-seok thinks he’s playing the same old game of backroom deals. He doesn't realize who I am, or why I clawed my way into the highest office in this nation. I didn't climb this high just to govern under his supervision.”

He leaned forward, resting his palms on the polished wood as he leaned in close. His jaw tightened, a vein pulsing near his temple.

“Now, the state stops negotiating with the monster. Now, the state becomes the monster.

I am going to erase his bloodline, his legacy, and his name from history.

I want his very ashes swept out of Korea.”

Minho nodded slowly, a dark smile playing on his lips.

"Let the hunt begin, Mr. President.”

_____________❤️‍🔥