The safehouse had already lost its “safe” in less than forty-eight hours. Between Namjoon’s trail of broken lamps, Jungkook’s expanding animal sanctuary, and Jimin’s incense sticks setting off the fire alarm, the neighbors had started asking questions.

By Day 2, the “Bangtan Witness Protection Program” looked less like protection and more like the pilot of a very unorganized reality show.

Morning Check-In

Jin slammed his spatula onto the counter. “Everyone, gather up! Family meeting!”

The others shuffled into the kitchen one by one: Yoongi with bedhead and murderous eyes, Hoseok with his blanket cape, Jimin in pastel yoga gear, Namjoon already holding a bandaged finger, Taehyung holding a sock puppet for no apparent reason, and Jungkook, trailing behind with a box of meowing kittens.

Jin pointed dramatically at the chalkboard he’d drawn up. Written in large, slightly wobbly handwriting:

“Operation Stay Alive (And Cute).”

“First rule,” Jin declared. “No unnecessary risks. We must blend in.”

“Like camouflage?” Taehyung asked, wiggling his sock puppet.

“Yes, Tae. Blend in like a chameleon.”

“Or like Jimin’s jawline,” Jungkook added.

“Thank you, Jungkookie,” Jimin replied with a shy smile.

Jin clapped his hands for order. “Second rule: No more animals.”

Jungkook froze, clutching a kitten to his chest. “But… hyung…”

“No. More. Animals.”

The room was silent for three seconds before a parrot on Jungkook’s shoulder squawked, “No more animals!”

Jin’s eye twitched.

“Third rule,” he pressed on, “No unnecessary phone calls. The enemy might be listening.”

“The enemy?” Yoongi muttered. “Hyung, it’s just Seventeen. Not the CIA.”

“Shhh,” Jin hissed, glancing at the ceiling like microphones were hidden in the light fixtures. “That’s exactly what they want us to think.”

Namjoon’s Librarian Life

Back at the high school library, Namjoon was already failing spectacularly at blending in.

“Mr. Kim, can you help me find this book?” a student asked, holding up a slip of paper.

“Of course!” Namjoon smiled warmly. “Which one?”

“Physics for Beginners.”

“Easy,” Namjoon said confidently. He marched to the science section, grabbed the book, and with his usual grace, knocked over the entire shelf in the process.

The students gasped.

Books thundered to the floor like an avalanche. Namjoon stood in the wreckage, frozen, holding a single copy of Physics for Beginners.

“Here you go,” he muttered, handing it over with the dignity of a man who had accepted his fate.

By the end of the day, three shelves, one computer monitor, and a very unlucky globe were victims of his touch. The principal cornered him as he tried to sweep up the debris.

“Mr. Kim,” she sighed, “you’ve been here two days. Two.”

Namjoon bowed deeply. “I promise to do better.”

The broom snapped in half in his hands.

“…Get out,” she whispered.

Jimin’s “Joga” Classes

Meanwhile, Jimin had fully embraced his yoga instructor persona. Except it wasn’t yoga. It was… whatever Jimin thought yoga was.

“Everyone, today’s class is about finding your inner center,” he told his students, turning down the lights. “And by center, I mean your bias center. Who’s your bias?”

“Uh… I thought this was yoga?” a confused man asked from the back.

“This is yoga,” Jimin assured him. “Now breathe in… and shimmy.”

He turned on Butter. The class obediently tried to stretch while shimmying their shoulders. Some were confused, others just went with it, and one woman actually shouted, “Park Jimin, I love you!” and fainted dramatically onto her mat.

By the end, Jimin concluded with: “Thank you ....stream BTS.”

Jungkook’s Pet Store Crisis

The pet store was in chaos. The manager had already threatened Jungkook with termination three times.

“Jeon Jungkook!” the man roared, storming into the backroom. “Why is there a goat in the break room?!”

“It followed me home,” Jungkook said simply, bottle-feeding a baby bunny in his arms.

“This is a pet store, not Noah’s Ark!”

But Jungkook just gave him his signature wide-eyed stare of innocence. “Hyung-nim… they were lonely.”

The manager opened his mouth to yell again, but stopped when the goat bleated pitifully. His anger melted. “Ugh. Fine. But if I see one more exotic animal—”

A monkey screeched from the rafters.

“…I quit,” the manager said, walking out.

Jungkook smiled, victorious, surrounded by his growing animal kingdom.

Back at the Safehouse

That evening, the boys reconvened again. Jin was cooking a mountain of ramyeon to feed both the members and Jungkook’s ever-growing zoo.

“Hyung, your librarian job sounds dangerous,” Hoseok said as Namjoon recounted his latest shelf disaster.

“Dangerous?” Namjoon scoffed. “It’s wood, Hoseok. How is wood so fragile? Am I cursed?”

“You are destruction incarnate,” Yoongi replied without hesitation.

“Don’t listen to him, Namjoon-ah,” Jimin cooed, patting his arm. “At least you’re consistent.”

Jungkook entered carrying yet another box. “Guys, meet my new friend!”

A duck popped its head out and quacked.

“Jungkook!” six voices screamed in unison.

Jin slammed his chopsticks down. “I said NO MORE ANIMALS!”

“But hyung, look at him,” Jungkook pleaded, lifting the duck up like Simba in The Lion King. “He imprinted on me.”

The duck quacked again, as if in agreement.

Yoongi rubbed his temples. “We’re doomed.”

Before Jin could explode, the safehouse phone rang again. Everyone froze.

Jin answered cautiously. “Hello?”

The distorted voice returned. “You think you’re safe, Bangtan? You’re not. The kimchi must remain secret. We’re watching you.”

The line went dead.

Everyone stared at each other.

“This is insane,” Hoseok whispered.

“Hyung, it’s just fermented cabbage!” Taehyung whined.

But Jin’s eyes narrowed. “They know where we are. We have to move carefully. No slip-ups.”

A loud quack echoed through the room.

Everyone turned to Jungkook.

“…What?” he said innocently, holding the duck.

On Day 3, disaster nearly struck.

While walking home from his library shift (and carrying a box of “do not touch” books because the principal refused to let him shelve anymore), Namjoon spotted two familiar figures across the street.

“Wait,” he muttered, adjusting his glasses. “Is that… Seungcheol? And… Mingyu?!”

Sure enough, two Seventeen members were standing outside a convenience store, laughing and carrying plastic bags of snacks.

Namjoon panicked. He ducked behind a vending machine, clutching the box of books. “Oh no. Oh no no no.”

He called Jin immediately. “Hyung, they’re here. I saw them. Two of them. I think they’re tracking us.”

“What?! Where?!” Jin shouted through the line, startling the duck that was sitting on his lap.

Namjoon whispered frantically, “Outside the GS25 by the school!”

“Stay calm, Namjoon. Do not engage. I repeat: do not engage!”

But Namjoon was Namjoon. As he tried to creep away unnoticed, his elbow clipped the vending machine. Coins rattled, snacks clattered, and with a horrifying screech of metal, the entire vending machine tipped over onto the sidewalk.

Mingyu turned. “...Namjoon-hyung?”

Namjoon froze like a deer in headlights, still holding his box of books. “…Uh… library delivery?”

Seungcheol squinted. “Why are you hiding behind a vending machine?”

“I… like machines?” Namjoon squeaked.

Before they could question further, Namjoon bolted, dropping books everywhere.

Back at the safehouse, he burst in, panting. “They saw me! We’re compromised!”

Jin slammed his fists on the table. “Then it’s war.”

Yoongi groaned. “Hyung, please. This isn’t a spy movie.”

But Jin was already pulling out a whiteboard labeled Operation Snack Justice.

By Day 4, paranoia was high. Jin started assigning roles like they were in an action film.

“Yoongi, you’re our strategist. Jimin, distraction specialist. Jungkook, animal handler.”

“Handler?” Jimin snorted. “He’s more like a zoo manager.”

Jungkook, with a raccoon clinging to his hoodie, beamed. “Thank you.”

“Hobi, you’re our escape driver. Tae, you’re… unpredictable. Use it.”

Taehyung saluted with his sock puppet. “Yes, sir.”

“And Namjoon,” Jin concluded, “you are muscle.”

Namjoon blinked. “…Hyung, I break everything I touch.”

“Exactly,” Jin said darkly.

That night, they sat around the table, whispering battle plans, when a knock came at the door.

Everyone froze.

“Who is it?” Jin barked.

“Delivery,” a voice replied.

“We didn’t order anything!” Jin yelled back.

“Yes, you did,” the voice insisted. “One order of… kimchi.”

The members screamed.