Jimin was walking home down a dimly lit street after his shift. With his headphones in and eyes glued to his phone, he didn’t even have a second to understand where they came from. Three of them moved like shadows. A violent yank knocked the breath out of his lungs, followed by a rough hand clamping over his mouth. A brutal blow to his ribs blurred his vision. They dragged him into a black van so fast his scream never made it past his lips. A coarse bag was shoved over his head, plunging him into darkness. The cold metal of handcuffs bit into his wrists. The doors slammed shut, sealing him in a space reeking of cheap gasoline and sweat. They drove for an eternity. When the van stopped and the bag was ripped away, harsh light blinded him. He was on his knees in an abandoned warehouse. Above him, a flickering lamp cast distorted shadows over the thick ropes prepared for him. One kidnapper was on a burner phone, another checked the windows, and the third just stared. Jimin's blood ran cold. This wasn’t a robbery. This was meant to end right here. Meanwhile, Officer Jeon Jungkook was pushing his car to the absolute limit. “Possible kidnapping. Signal from a stolen phone. Coordinates match an abandoned site.” Protocol dictated waiting for backup, but an inexplicable urgency twisted in his gut, screaming at him not to wait. He arrived with sirens cut and slipped inside as silently as a ghost. It was over in seconds. A gunshot shattered the silence. The kidnapper by the window dropped to the floor. The second man lunged at Jimin with a hunting knife, but Jungkook was a blur of motion. He intercepted the attacker with a devastating strike, neutralizing the threat instantly. The warehouse fell into a ringing silence. Jungkook knelt beside Jimin, using his tactical knife to slice through the ropes. As they fell away, Jungkook’s bare fingers brushed against Jimin’s bruised skin. The moment they touched, a strange, sharp spark flashed between them. It was deep, blindingly hot, and utterly unexplainable. Both of them felt it—a sudden physical jolt—and immediately ripped their gazes away. Freed, Jimin collapsed, shaking so violently he couldn’t stand. He didn’t try to understand the spark. There was too much fear, too much pain in his ribs. His heart pounded too loudly. Seeing him shiver on the freezing concrete, Jungkook silently draped his heavy jacket over Jimin's trembling shoulders. "It’s over," Jungkook said, his low voice a steady anchor. "You’re safe." He stood up to radio it in, masking his expression in professional calm. But as he gripped his comms, he could still feel the phantom heat of that spark burning into his fingertips.