The' OriJIN' hehehe

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"Get up," though hoarse and shadowed by the thundering rain, Kim Seongjun's voice still boomed over the gymnasium's empty area.

His hands were shaking, throat thirsting for water due to the relentless training he had just gone through. Sweat soaked his thin shirt which clung to his small body, still inappropriate for hardcore sparring.

At the age of ten, Seokjin was ruthlessly introduced to the cruel world. Violence, blood, dirt and death was something embedded deep into his mind. 

Holding a gun was something trivial. Twisting a knife before accurately sending it to wooden dummy's head was as easy as ABC.

Unlike other kids who studied at schools learning Mathematics, English, Arts, Science and the likes, he was never granted the opportunity to ever attend a class with other children of his age.

Seokjin only spent his days being tutored by different suited men and women, still locked inside his not-so-exciting room. Then in the weekends, if he was lucky, his father would take him out into the woods only to give him a surprise training.

Life was never easy for him. He thought that at that age, kids also experienced the same circumstances that he did. Bloodied hands, calloused fingers, wounded knees and all the pain had to be endured by his frail body.

"Get up, Seokjin. I did not raise you to be this weak," he really wished his mother was here. He really wished she did not have to disappear when he was young.

His father always claimed that she was now at a much better place, watching over them and always guiding them. But no matter how Seongjun displays his happiness, Seokjin would never forget the nights when his dad would get completely wasted, crying inside his own room with a picture clutched tightly with his hand.

Seongjun stood, mercilessly looking down on his own son, "What? You can't get up because of a mere cut?"

"Seongjun, I don't think we should push him too much. He just got out of a cold--"

"Exactly," he cuts off the young agent, "He has rested long enough. He needs to catch up," Seongjun turned his back, the end of his trench coat flying behind him. He left Seokjin with another man, officially retiring to his office.

The young Seokjin coughed and hacked, still kneeling on the ground on all fours as he fought the urge to vomit. He was feeling weaker, slightly dizzy and he could not find it in himself to stand up.

The man kneeled before him, voice soft spoken and eloquent, "Come on, son."

Son. It was funny how other people aside from his own father calls him son. Perhaps the whole agency sees as their own child as well, seeing as how he literally grew up in their care.

"Your dad's not here anymore. Let's get you something to drink and eat, hm?" he wanted to cry right at that moment but his hardened heart was taught not to. Tears are signs of weaknesses.

Lee Taeho felt the child's warm skin, concerned that his fever was going back as quickly as it left the young one's body. It was always a pain witnessing Seongjun practically torture his own child.

Despite being small and young, the kid's resolve and bravery was much stronger than his, he would admit. Seokjin was a prodigy, a child that many claimed belonged to the skillful group of field agents.

Even by just looking at him now, Taeho could tell that Kim Seokjin will grow up to be a fine Scout someday. But there was this heaviness in his heart. 

Just imagining that Seokjin could have chosen another path in life if his father did not force him. He could be in a small town in South Korea, aspiring to be what he wants to be in the future. Wishing to make his own parents proud.

He did not deserve all of this yet he was being constantly pushed towards the door that leads to a life full of hatred and angst. There was no victory in the life of a Scout.

"Don't be like my dad."

His statement caused Taeho's steps to halt. With a curious brow arched, he leaned down and looked at the child straight into his eyes.

"What was that?"

Seokjin kicked a pebble, sending it far enough to hit the wall. The rain was pouring down on the umbrella that the older man held.

"Someday, when you have a kid. Don't be like my dad."

The man threw his head back as he laughed, the sound resonating comfortably up his broad chest. Seokjin didn't think it was funny at all but he continued kicking pebbles as they returned to walking.

"You talk like someone who have lived two lives already," ruffling the kid's hair with his free hand, Taeho found it all too amusing to hear a child speak like an old man.

"What do you mean two lives? People only have one life," there was no sign of happiness in his voice nor his face. It pained the man.

He crouched down once more, gazing intently at Seokjin.

"Look here, Seokjin. Your father sometimes can be a buzzkill," unlike Seongjun, the agent's voice was much softer and oozed concern. Like a teacher prepared to give an important piece of advice to his student, "I don't want you to be like him."

Seokjin blinked, "But my father is an excellent fighter. I would like to be like him."

Taeho shrugged, "Yeah. You're not wrong there. But he's," he leaned in, whispering the last part, "A bad joker."

"I don't see why that would be useful in the battlefield...?" there was a half-questioning look on his face.

"What do you mean?" the older man looked offended, "I should have excepted this from you! Somehow, all of the people in your family don't appreciate my jokes," holding his chest, he pretended to have a broken heart.

"Did you know," Seokjin's interest was piqued. Truly, he had never met any other man like this agent, "That when you joke during battlefield, you can consider yourself the winner if they laugh at your jokes!"

"But you still haven't defeated them. Their weapon was not ceased, they're not on the ground immobilized or unconscious."

He scratched the back of his head. The child was unbelievably serious and persistent, "Even so, there are so many more advantages to cracking jokes and having fun."

"Like what?" he was glad that Seokjin was at least interested.

"Whenever you are in pickle, it's always important to not lose hope. In order to regain your advantage, you got to remind yourself to have a lil bit of fun."

Young, ten-year old Seokjin still did not get the man's drift, "But you have to be serious in the field."

"Not too serious," Taeho interjects, "It's going to give you nasty wrinkles. Like your father. Look at how old he looks now."

Somehow, Seokjin was not able to hold back his chuckle. The sharp man catches this easily.

"See? It's not bad to be carefree once in a while!"

Seokjin just imagined the strict and straight-faced look of his father, only making the situation more comical. If he were to be honest, there were times when he would force himself to not smile when the man gets too serious. It did not suit him very well.

"I still don't see any huge advantages. Why do you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Joking around and having fun. Why do you do it?"

"Ah," Lee Taeho sighs out, "It's like a defence mechanism and a bluff at the same time."

He had heard of those terms before. But never did he imagine them to be associated with jokes.

"As a defence mechanism, it helps mask my fear," he did not even know why he was talking to a child about certain matters, "It reassures me and reminds me that this job is not too difficult. That it's a job where I can have fun wherever I am. And whenever I am cornered into an impossible situation, it encourages me to think positive."

The little boy was in awe at how it was described. Never did he imagine that jokes would be that beneficial.

"And as a bluff, it scares the opponents. It scares them so bad when they have thrown all their cards on the deck and instead of seeing you hopeless and riled-up, they get terrified when they see that you're just having fun. When they see that it is all just like a game to you."

"Like game time?" with his innocent eyes, peering at the tall man, he asked about a period of his day where he would be allowed to do anything he wants such as playing basketball, video games and the likes.

The man beamed, glad that they were now at a point where they agree on something, "Yes! Just like game time."

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Now at the age of fifteen, Seokjin gained almost all of the skills that he needed to acquire to be eligible for the position of a Scout.

He felt proud knowing that he was the youngest one in the field and his abilities are on par with professionals much older than he was. Yet his father still showed no signs of recognition.

Mr. Lee, however, acted more like a father to him. Seokjin cannot imagine ever lasting this long and going through all the deadly training without the aloof man's guidance.

He was never in a mission though. Seongjun never allowed him to participate on any small or quick missions that occurred outside the headquarters. He so badly wanted to escape.

Seokjin was tired of the prison that he was trapped in. So it was only logical than impulsive for him to knock on the heavy doors which was the only thing separating from him and his father and grandfather.

Despite being significantly taller, he was still small in comparison to the two reputable men. The two men he strived hard to be like.

"What are you doing here?" no proper greeting, no 'hello's or concerned 'how are you's. His father was ice cold.

"Now, now Seongjun. There's no need to be so riled up about your own son. I'm sure he's here for an important reason. Right, Seokjin?" his grandfather sat on his chair comfortably which will soon be occupied by his own father. Lee Taeho was unexpectedly standing right beside them, a surprised look on his face.

"What brought my dear grandson here?" asked the oldest man in the room.

"I--I..."

"Speak properly, Seokjin," there was that chilling voice again, slicing through the air like a sharp blade.

"I want to participate on a mission!" 

The room was silenced at his declaration. A young boy of a mere age of fifteen, asking to be included in a mission that could mean his life? It was all too bizarre.

He thought his grandfather would be more lenient, after all, he did not treat Seokjin as bad as Seongjun did. But one word from him felt like his dreams were just shattered right in front of him.

"No," he looked up, about to argue back, "Your skills are indeed formidable and even more promising than those of other official agents. Your style is perfect, just as what I would expect from you."

Then what was wrong with him?

"But you're too impulsive. Years of being trained like a dog and I thought your father would easily discipline your reckless side. You're great in battle and you also know that very well. That's why you never take the time to think about your next moves and just aimlessly fight on and overexert yourself."

"Hot-headed fighters are the worst," surprisingly, the general's voice was colder than Seongjun's, "And in the field, they are the ones who die first."

"Say," quickly switching the mood, his grandfather thought of another topic. Taeho was just standing there, wanting to butt in but he only decided to send the young one a sympathetic look.

"Have you heard about our new recruit named Kim Namjoon?"

The fifteen year old's head perked up. The name 'Kim Namjoon' was rather popular among the headquarters these days.

"Isn't he just thirteen?" Seongjun spat out, confused as to why the general would mention the boy's name.

"The most fantastic thirteen year old I've seen," praised the man. Unbeknownst to him, Seokjin's nails were now digging deep into his palms, drawing blood. They must have forgotten that he was still in the room.

His dad raised a brow, "What are you suggesting?"

"Let him join Hyun-gil's team next week."

A glare was sent their way but they were too occupied to even notice the fiery strength beneath Seokjin's passionate eyes.

The current general, and Seongjun's father, knew that his own son would counter his words but instead he spoke, "It's only a reconnaissance mission. I'm sure Namjoon could handle it."

"He's smart, quick and has a great sense of style. Unlike your son, he has greater potential especially with that strategic mind of his."

Blood running cold, Seokjin did not mind that a drop of his blood fell on the carpeted floor and stained it. From then on, he marked Kim Namjoon as his rival.

"You could learn from him, Seokjin. He'll make a fine agent someday."

Bullshit. All they are uttering is bullshit.

He would not allow himself be surpassed by this stranger much less even learn from him. Namjoon's name was at the top of his list and ever since that day, he viewed the man as the first and only person to threaten his position as a future general.

Past Seokjin would laugh at present Seokjin if the latter says that Kim Namjoon would be one of his greatest friends.

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unedited 

125K READS AND 6K VOTES!!! HOLY...You guys are incredible! The only way that I can say thank you is to publish more chapters asdfkgdg. I didn't think that SOJ would be this big owo

Expect future chapters about the other members' origins and a few fluffy ones with the little Bulletproofs gracing the universe uwu. I have so many things lined up that it's making me soooo excited to just write and write and write. 

Next up: Kim Namjoon's Origin!

As always, I PURPLE Y'ALL!