The studio was darker than usual, lit only by a single desk lamp. Yoongi leaned against the piano, his jacket discarded, sleeves rolled up.
Yoongi: "You alright?"
Y/N dropped her bag and slumped onto the bench.
Y/N: "They're treating me like I'm made of glass. But I'm not scared."
Yoongi: "You should be. Fear isn't weakness. It keeps you sharp."
He walked over and placed a small box on the piano.
Yoongi: "Open it."
Inside: a sleek silver pendant. Tiny. Elegant. Harmless-looking.
Yoongi: "It's a tracker. Discreet. Wear it always."
Y/N hesitated, then looped the chain around her neck.
They sat in silence before she began playing — a slow, somber piece that gradually rose into defiant chords. Yoongi joined her, layering the beat with low, pulsing rhythms. Together, they created something strong. Something full of heart and grit.
Yoongi: "Your brothers will come around. But until then, prove them wrong."
She looked at him — the quietest of them all, yet somehow the one who understood her most.
Y/N: "Thank you… for not doubting me."
Yoongi (softly): "I never have."