Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

“Try it now and tell me how it feels,” Namjoon says, watching as Hoseok puts on the sunglasses and stays still for a solid minute. The pitch black of the screens cover his eyes, but Namjoon is pretty sure the other is squinting right at him.

Ever since their first (semi)successful encounter with the ghost in Jeon Jungkook’s apartment, the three of them had been relentlessly working on tweaking the designs for their devices. It’s gotten to a point where Hoseok needs to set up four alarms in order to wake up in the morning, and Namjoon marks the hours on the calendar when he actually needs to go to the lab.

On the bright side of things, however, the group's been fairly successful in going around the city in order to try and catch ghosts. They’ve made quite some progress, even, their bookshelf having to be cleared to make room for the capsules they’ve been filling (Namjoon’s managed to find a way to bulk make them with some sort of assembly line method. To this day, Hoseok still doesn’t know where the other’s managed to find the resources and money needed for it, but he suspects Namjoon has been swiping from various parts of campus). The profession is somewhat creepy, and Hoseok still never goes out from his room at night anymore lest he see one of those things light up that eerily chilling shade of blue, but they’ve managed to gather more successes and use their findings in order to further their studies.

Recently, Namjoon’s even come up with another invention that he’s dubbed his ghost-vision goggles (but these days everyone just calls them sunglasses), normal frames that are filled with lenses specifically made for detecting reactive energy. The past few times they’ve used it have been coupled with accidentally throwing a capsule at each other instead of a ghost, and so he’s tried tinkering it a bit in order to create a more distinct recognition.

“It’s pitch black,” the other finally replies. Through the sunglasses, Hoseok can see balls of bright blue light a few meters away, where the bookshelf is supposed to be. When he turns his head towards the direction Namjoon is standing in, he sees a faint red glow, and his eyebrows raise, impressed. “Although I can kind of see your silhouettes through this thing. We’re no longer balls of light, huh.”

“Seriously?” Namjoon asks, eyes lighting up as his hands curl into fists of excitement. “Great! That’s thermal energy right there. We are now officially up and running!”

“Wait, I still don’t get it,” Jungkook says from the couch where he lounges. “How does it work again?” And Hoseok tosses the sunglasses towards him, the younger barely managing to catch it by the frame.

“Careful,” Namjoon hisses, “those look like normal glasses but the lenses are expensive!” And then he blinks at Jungkook, who is looking frantically around the room with his eyes covered by pitch black. “And why the hell are you here again, anyways? Don’t you have better things to do? Classes to take?”

“It’s Saturday,” Jungkook states, pushing himself up from his seat and feeling the air around him with his hands. “Plus, you guys need me.” Truly enough, with Jungkook as an addition to their team, money’s been less tight and time has been more available to them. The other has his ways of getting the better deals and providing a way of eating that’s more than just ramen and junk food, even if his cooking is tasteless. Taehyung’s been breaking out less these days, and Hoseok seems more energetic, too. “I can’t see shit and it’s really heavy.”

“I had to wire in some stuff so it could actually detect heat, you know.”

The other scrunches his nose and lifts his head back, a small crack sounding from his neck. “Ugh, these are worse than those glasses they wear in those old kpop MVs.”

“Hey! You cannot diss the legends like that,” Taehyung calls out, expression quite clearly insulted. “It’s their glasses that add all the coolness to their presence.”

“I could bet my life savings that you wouldn’t look any cooler than you already aren’t, even with these shades on,” Jungkook pulls the glasses off of his face and Taehyung takes them out of his hands, putting it on and immediately starting to sway to an imaginary groove.

“How cool am I now, huh?”

“Taehyung, stop that, you look like a fool,” Namjoon says.

“Better than you,” Hoseok whispers under his breath.

“Hey watch out, you’re nearing an object. Move to the left,” Jungkook says. To the left of Taehyung is a stack of books and the small end table holding up a lamp. Namjoon shoots Jungkook a confused look, but the other is grinning. Oh no.

“Wait--” he starts, but Taehyung is already swerving to the left, very unluckily jamming his toe into the corner of the table and letting out a surprised yelp. He jumps backwards, heading towards the shelf full of capsules, and slams his back into it unceremoniously, leaving himself out of balance and the items on the shelf shaking from the force.

“Oh shi--” Namjoon says, stepping forward, but at this time the other is already falling and, in a fit of panic with the sunglasses still not allowing him to see, Taehyung’s hands fling wildly in search of some sort of hold. They find the shelf as he falls, and the weight of his body is enough to tip it over as well.

Taehyung falls to the ground with a loud thud, ripping the glasses off of him angrily in time to see the catastrophe that is about to happen.

The shelf falls in slow motion. All four pairs of eyes grow increasingly wide as they prepare for the crash. It starts with one capsule, falling quicker than the rest, hitting the ground first and bouncing slightly along the ground as cracks begin to form around it. And then the floor becomes littered with two, and then ten, and then twenty capsules barely rolling on the floor and lighting up in sporadic patterns.

And then comes the shelf, and this is where it all turns to crap. It falls, hitting some of the capsules with its edges, and the collective crack of around a dozen or so of the hard glass containers shatter into a million tiny pieces.

Hoseok’s device beeps wildly, almost like an alarm from the reaction it receives. And then, in a split second, the noise dies down to complete silence, and they are all left staring at the mess of broken glass on the ground.

“...What just happened?” Taehyung asks slowly, body still numb from the shock, and Namjoon’s jaw drops open slowly.

“They’ve escaped.”

--

“God shit damn--” Namjoon growls as Jungkook sits quietly in in the passenger seat, hands placed neatly on his lap and face carefully blank as to not aggravate the man further.

“Calm down, Namjoon,” Hoseok drawls from shotgun. “Road rage isn’t going to get us anywhere other than in jail or with a ticket.”

“I’d kill the both of you--”

“It wasn’t all my fault,” Taehyung starts, “if you’d have used plexiglass instead of actual glass this wouldn’t be happening right now.”

“Are you blaming me for this? Really, Tae?”

“No~”

“You should take a right here,” Jungkook speaks up, and Namjoon nearly slams on the brakes as he tries to swerve around to the other side. In the back, Taehyung gags slightly from the sudden movement.

“Holy crap, a little earlier would be nice!”

“Sorry, didn’t want to interrupt your anger,” Jungkook shrugs from the back, and Namjoon sighs.

“Why are we even bringing you, you’re a kid.”

“Who has more direction sense than you,” Jungkook points out.

“Come on guys, no fighting until we have this all sorted out. Namjoon, Jungkook has the map here, okay? And Jungkook, Namjoon has the brains. Both of you shut up.”

“None of you have enough brains to survive in this city,” Jungkook grumbles. “This car is cramped and it’s hot and I haven’t eaten since this morning.”

“That’s because we’ve been out catching the ghosts that you two released,” Hoseok quips back. “Look, it’s our last site, okay? Just hold in all your whining until afterwards.”

The last site, as it turns out, happens to be some construction site of a factory out in the middle of nowhere, slightly close to the outskirts of the city, where houses are few and people even fewer. The sky is already navy when they get out of the car, although big grey clouds prevent the appearance of many stars.

Hoseok shivers slightly as he steps out, the night air hitting him with a particularly chilly frost. He rubs his hands against his arms, and quickly turns on his device. “Let’s get this over with,” he says, before his eyes widen at the sight of the screen.

The others, noticing his silence, peer over his shoulders, and Namjoon’s brow raises at the irregular readings. “Is that supposed to happen?” he asks, and Hoseok gulps. When he turns back to face him, his expression is a little pale.

“It’s happened a few times before,” he says, swallowing. “At the mall, and at the graveyard, more specifically. Where there were so many signals that kept interfering with each other.”

“...How many are there?”

“I don’t know, but I want to go home,” Hoseok all but cries.

“There’s no use complaining since we’re here now,” Namjoon says grimly. All four of them sigh.

“Are we even allowed to be in here?” Jungkook asks, looking a little concerned. Taehyung turns to him, unimpressed frown on his face.

“Does it matter? Either we sneak in and catch the ghosts we let escape or we let them haunt this construction place and turn a blind eye when people start dropping left and right after whatever is being built finishes.” Jungkook gulps.

Namjoon rubs a hand across his forehead. “Well, let’s get this started.”

--

It’s getting… a little scary here, Hoseok gulps as he takes a step into the half-built empty building. They’ve been making their way through the perimeter of the site so far, and under the beams and catching what they can. Most of the ghosts have hovered around the outside of the built part of the structure, which was lucky enough, but as the evening wore on and the amount of ghosts dwindled the reading on Hoseok’s device has been steadily growing strong in the direction of the warehouse slash abandoned factory looking building.

The moonlight shines eerily through the windows, but it is not nearly enough to illuminate the long narrow hallways that they walk in. Hoseok’s hands are trembling, but he makes sure to keep his device gripped tightly in his hands. Behind him, Namjoon holds onto his shoulders as a sort of lifeline, with Taehyung and Jungkook following in the back.

“Keep quiet!” Namjoon hisses. “We have to avoid security here.”

“How about the security cameras, then?”

“It’s a construction site, there can’t be any cameras. They barely have enough electricity for light.”

There is a small bang coming from the right, and all four of them jump, huddling a little closer together for human comfort. Hoseok can feel the goosebumps on Namjoon’s arms, and he’s quite sure that his skin holds the same prickles of fear on it.

There’s a funny thing about ghosts that they’ve come to realize. While docile during the day, they become strangely angry at night, as if the chill in the air is a signal for them to release their pent up energy.

“We have to go over,” Jungkook finally says, and Namjoon nods in agreement.

“Follow the noises,” he adds.

“That’s usually how you die in horror movies,” Hoseok laments, fingers shaking, but even he knows that it is what they must do. His reading, after all, is telling them to head in that direction, too, and he pulls Namjoon in front of him as a sort of shield as he begins to walk forward.

Each step is taken with careful attention, but still they are loud in the stillness of the area. Hoseok’s machine, volume lowered as to keep the tension down, shows higher and higher peaks until they waver, and Hoseok takes a few steps back until he is in front of another arching doorway.

“Here’s where the device is reading the highest,” his lip quivers as he stands outside the entrance, not sure whether he should be going in or not. Slowly, he takes a step in, and his machine begins to grow staticky, making fuzzy noises before the thing shuts off completely. “Oh, lord, that is not a good sign,” he says.

“Try the glasses,” Namjoon says, pointing at the other’s pocket where it is hooked on to, and Hoseok reaches for them with shaking fingers. When he manages to grab them from the other, he slowly puts the shades on his eyes, the darkness of the tint covering everything else in sight.

There is a blue light right in front of him.

Hoseok screams and lurches back, banging his head into Namjoon in the process, who cries at the impact. From behind, Taehyung and Jungkook watch in shock.

“Shit, fuck, it’s in front of me throw it throw it!” he screams.

Almost as if it can sense their attentions, the blue light seems to move closer to Hoseok, its light through the glasses getting brighter, as if summoning energy. Hoseok screams louder, his body shaking. He tries to push himself back but his legs feel weak and he wants to throw up “Namjoon!” he screams. “Taehyung! Namjoon!”

Snapping out of his shock, Namjoon quickly reaches for one of his bulbs, turning on the valve and pushing it towards Hoseok, who takes and throws it straight in front of him. The four of them watch as it seems to hit something, and the suction turns on, device shaking violently in the air as it seems to suck something into it, and Hoseok clambers back until his back hits another body, and he screams again, thrashing violently until a voice enters his ears.

“--ey, Hoseok, Hoseok! It’s me, calm down! Hoseok!” Namjoon’s voice is concerned and a little frightened, and the shades are ripped off of his eyes. Hoseok finds himself looking back at his colleague, and all the fight seems to leave him at once as he collapses on top of the other, who holds him tightly.

“Are you okay?” Taehyung asks worriedly, rushing over to drop to their side. Jungkook follows shortly after, hovering above the three of them as they try to calm Hoseok down.

When he seems to have regained his breath, Hoseok pushes himself off the floor shakily and makes to stumble towards the entrance. “Fuck this,” he hisses to himself. “Fuck this fuck this fuck this I’m not dealing with this I’m leaving right now and none of you can stop me--”

As he makes to pass through the archway, however, a figure steps out to block his path, moonlight illuminating his silhouette and leaving the rest of him invisible.

“I think not,” he growls in a low, warning tone.

All four of them scream this time.

--

Three of them are sitting quietly on the small couch in the room, Taehyung and Jungkook quietly intaking their surroundings. Hoseok is draped over the edge of the couch, eyes dull and face pale. He seems to have broken out into a cold sweat, and his arms are limp, dangling off to the side.

Standing by the corner, Namjoon watches warily as the man across from him types into a computer, eyes narrowed and cold. He is wearing the typical security guard uniform, although he seems much younger than the ones that Namjoon sees in the streets and at the front of big buildings. Lying on the table next to him, rolling slightly from its spherical shape, is one of their capsules that had been confiscated along with their arrest. The rest of them are in Namjoon’s bag, placed strategically by the security officer’s feet.

The man finishes typing, standing up and giving the four of them a once-over. “I’m calling the cops,” he says finally, and Taehyung and Jungkook share a scared look. Hoseok remains unresponsive on the couch, and the man’s eyes shift over to him. “And maybe an ambulance for you. Mind telling me why you were sneaking around in the middle of the night?”

“...” Namjoon stays quiet, not sure whether he should speak the truth or not. A ghost, after all, was not something one would readily believe in society today, and ghostbusting far less. Add that to illegal ghostbusting and infiltration, and all words die before they come out of his mouth. In their defense, however, there were no signs saying not to enter.

“We were catching ghosts, sir,” Taehyung says for him. The guard’s expression changes from wary to incredibly done in one second. “An accident happened and a bunch of them escaped our capsules, and like… they flew all over town. So we’ve been trying to catch them back.”

“...Right,” the man says, as he begins to walk over to the phone. Namjoon steps forward in alarm and in a flash, he is pinned against the wall. Namjoon grunts at the position, his arms twisted roughly behind his back. “Try anything,” the other says, “and you’ll see what happens.”

“I got mugged by three middle school kids before I’m really not capable of fighting oh god please let me go this is really uncomfortable officer,” he spills, and there is the visible sound of someone smacking his palm to his forehead. Not really the way to talk to an authority figure while you’re being suspected and held down, but his mind is too frazzled to think.

“Er, sir--” Taehyung stands up dumbly, and in a flash the man is holding him down too, Namjoon held with one hand and him in the other. The guard’s grip is unbelievably tight, and both of them start protesting at once.

“Ow, ow, it hurts I won’t do anything I promise!”

“I’m too dumb to fight, I’m so sorry--”

Leaning forward on the couch, Jungkook looks torn, hands reaching forward in vain, not sure what to do. On the other side, Hoseok’s fingers twitch as his eyes catch on the top of the shelf, where a metal bin filled with files seems to shake slightly.

“Hey,” the guard snaps, eyes finding Jungkook on the couch. “You come over here, too! Where I can see the three of you.” Dumbly, Jungkook fumbles his way over to the side of the wall, and Namjoon and Taehyung are released harshly, where they slump against the sides next to him.

The man has his arms crossed as he watches them, attention directed away from the pale man on the couch, who now has lifted his head in disbelief, eyes nearly crossing as he watches the bin for signs of life.

It is still, but then it moves again, slightly, less than a millimeter, maybe, and the motion could’ve escaped him if he had not been paying attention.

At the wall, Jungkook, Namjoon, and Taehyung are unaware, sending each other glances with their hands in their laps. Taehyung raises his above his head and Namjoon sighs and brings his own to his ears. The two break out into secret grins, and Jungkook only stares at them grimly.

The guard is reaching for the phone, other hand scribbling something down into a form. His eyes are on the paper, occasionally glancing up to see if the other three are in danger of moving anytime soon. They look preoccupied with entertaining themselves, however, and seem nothing like a threat at all, and he sighs quietly to himself.

What stupidity, he thinks, that these four kids had gotten themselves caught trying to sneak into a place that held nothing at all, nothing but dirt floors and half constructed beams. It was a waste of their future, after all. The line clicks from the other side of the phone, and a gruff, tired voice rings out.

“Hello? Name and position.”

“Min Yoongi,” he states, “from the construction area on--”

Something rams into him, knocking the breath from his lungs, and the phone is ripped from the table, wire connecting it to the power ripping off and leaving the box on the floor, blown apart by the force of the fall.

“Hyung!” he hears the other three call, and Yoongi tries to catch his breath from the assault. The previously pale man is on top of him, chest heaving and eyes wide, and Yoongi’s eyes narrow in anger. He must’ve been stupid to let his guard down just because the guy looked like he had lost the will to live. So, so stupid, and now--

“It moved,” the man splutters, rolling off of him and sitting up to point at the floor. When Yoongi pushes himself up, he sees the file holder crashed down, papers littered around it haphazardly, and he stares up at the shelf from where it had been positioned.

“What--” he starts, but the other’s don’t give him time to react.

“Fuck it’s in here--”

“There’s one in--”

“They’re fucking crazy at night holy shit--”

“Namjoon, Namjoon! Get your shit out! Holy fuck shit fuck--”

“What the hell is--” Yoongi starts, but almost immediately as his anger fuels it dies out along with the power in the room, shutting off with an almost scary air. Suddenly the place seems ten degrees colder than it was previously, and as his eyes adjust to the dark he can make out something moving in the black of the night.

Waving his hand in front to try and grab the intruders, he lets out a noise when his hand encloses around paper instead of clothing, and there is scrambling and yelling over the room.

His eyes are still unfocused, but Yoongi feels his way over towards the windows, usually kept shut and shuttered for the whole of night and day. There is a chill that runs up his spine as he takes a few steps forward, and Yoongi slumps a little at the sudden fatigue that hits his body. Still, his hands creep up towards the the cord that is attached at the side, and using his body weight he pulls down, the blinds lifting to let the moonlight into the room.

Like the opening of a movie scene, there are papers everywhere--in the air, floating. At the side, one man has large sunglasses over his eyes, pointing towards random spaces in the room. Another man chucks spherical objects barely fitting into the palm of his hand randomly around the room, many of them crashing onto the floor and shattering into pieces.

Another two are huddled in the corner, jabbing a square machine blindly around the room and shrieking when it sounds.

Yoongi’s eyes are wide as he watches what’s in front of him, not believing his eyes. He can see the pens in the cabinet lifting up and turning horizontal, pointing straight at the man in the sunglasses before they fly towards him, and Yoongi jumps, taking the other to the floor as he tries to dodge the onslaught. The man’s sunglasses fall off of his face, and he wheezes out a breath.

The utensils stick hit the wall, the force of their momentum causing them to lodge into the plaster cleanly, no cracks around the holes created.

“You--” Yoongi takes a breath. “You guys have to tell me what’s going on.”

“What’s going on? Didn’t you see that back there?” Hoseok hisses. “That was a ghost! You think any normal human being is capable of making shit float? It’s trying to kill us!”

He squints, and although it doesn’t help, the space where the man points seems to hover, like something is distorting its image. It’s slight, and his head begins to hurt from the strain. When Yoongi shakes himself back into attention, the air is back to normal.

“What,” he breathes, but it’s shattered by crash. He whips his head over, and Hoseok is frantically chucking ball after ball into the open space. They fall to the ground, the crash followed by a loud crack as the glass shatters and breaks into pieces. One of them lodges into the wall next to the one with big eyes. He screams.

“Dude! You nearly broke my brain!”

“Look, put on these glasses, the blue is where the ghost is supposed to be. The red is us. Can you see it?”

Yoongi swivels his head until he sees a faint speck of blue. “That thing?” he asks, pointing towards the window where the spirit is hovering, as if deciding whether to escape or wreck a little more havoc before he goes.

“I don’t know, you have the glasses on--” The spirit, sensing that it can be seen, does something the the four boys have never even thought was possible before. It shrieks.

Or what sounds like it. A sharp, almost painfully high pitch rings through the room, enough that they all flinch and automatically go to cover their ears.

They all scream, too, but Hoseok is louder than all of them.

“Shut up!” Yoongi is the first to recover. His horror makes way for anger now, and stepping forward he knocks his leg into a hard surface. He hisses, and snaps at the intruders. “Go to a corner. Don’t block my way,” he orders, and the confidence in his voice causes everyone to regain their senses and stumble against the wall with shaky steps.

Except for Hoseok, who is bawling heavily now. He looks a little ugly with all the tears and snot dripping down his face, but a large hand smacks him upside the head, and when he comes to Namjoon is pulling him towards them. Giving them a last glance, Yoongi swallows, and his eyes zero in on the blue spirit that sways tauntingly in the center of the room. He begins to move.

The floor is too cluttered for him to be quick, and he quickly maps out another surface to move around. Items begin to whirlwind the room, and Yoongi rips off his glasses and bashes it against his knee, forcing one half of a lense to crack and peeling it out. He slips the sunglasses back on, his hair a mess and half an eye showing. The view is annoying, his eyes not fully syncing the two views together, but at least he can make out the surroundings better now.

“My baby,” Namjoon whines from somewhere behind him, but he gets shushed.

Like it knows, the spirit seems to turn even angrier now. It no longer shoots things haphazardly across the room. Now, sharp objects launch themselves at Yoongi as he dodges them, jumping from surface to surface. Plastic holders crack open into sharp pieces and join the fray, and Yoongi jumps in time to save his toes from being impaled.

From the corner, the rest of them watch in awe as the guard climbs onto the window sill with practiced ease, legs moving swiftly even though his sight is hindered. Yoongi moves quickly, but before each step his feet feel for safety, and his arms swing front and back in order to make out foreign objects.

“How does he move like that?”

“Cadet training,” Taehyung replies, and they all nod unconsciously.

“What do I do?” Yoongi cries, and Namjoon fumbles on the ground for a capsule that looks relatively unscathed. He tosses it through the air but the spirit blows a wave of air, sending it towards the wall and eliciting a gasp from Hoseok.

“Wait, no it’s gonna break--” but Yoongi surges forward, knocking himself into the wall in an effort to catch the capsule. He does, and without hesitation sends the thing back in the direction it came.

It strikes the air, defying the laws of motion as it’s suddenly stopped in the middle of its motion, and then it begins to suck in frantically, loud sounds of protest coming from the ball as the ghost seemingly tries to fight its suction. When it finally stops, the thing begins falling to the ground, but the guard rips off the glasses and chucks it towards their direction, clambering downwards in time to catch the ball in his hands.

Slowly, the small hurricane comes to a stop and items begin to litter the floor. A faint whirring can be heard in the room, and not long after it starts the power flickers back on with a buzz, the light hitting their eyes harshly.

The place is a mess, with the only two things staying in place being the stained couch and the desk in the middle of the room. The rest of the things are scattered around as if the place had been the location of a massive brawl.

When the guard comes back in, capsule flashing a violent blue in his hand, his eyes survey the damage and close in misery. “Shit,” he breathes quietly, before opening his eyes and turning to the four of them crouching by the corner. He tosses the ball over at Jungkook, who catches it with a surprised yell,

“Really didn’t think shit like this would actually happen to me…” he mumbles, exhaustion and relief sagging his features. A bit of his clothes look tattered, some thread separating from the fabric here and there. Namjoon almost wants to ask him if he’s alright.

Taehyung clears his throat, trying to lighten the awkward silence. “...Gotta catch ‘em all,”

Jungkook jumps up then, eyes shining. “That was amazing!” he breathes. “I really didn’t expect you to be like, a parkour master, or a--or a flying dude.”

“What?” Yoongi gives him a weirded out look, but before the conversation can continue someone calls out from outside.

“Security! Are you in there?”

They share a look of panic.

They can hear footsteps approaching, and Yoongi curses and pushes them towards the back room, jabbing keys into the keyhole angrily before one of them finally turns and unlocks the door. A smell of damp mold immediately drifts out from inside, and Yoongi shoves the four of them in, turning back to look at the entrance.

“Don’t make a sound,” he warns, before shutting the door and enveloping them in total darkness. They hear the click of the door being locked soon after, and wait with bated breaths as they hear the door opening on the other side.

“Sir,” Yoongi says, voice muffled from the door separating them.

“Guard, what happened here? Was there a break-in?”

“A raccoon, sir. Two of them, actually. They...um, must have slipped in when I rushed out before. I forgot to close the door.”

“And why were you trying to call us before?”

“...” there is a slight silence, but it picks up quickly as Yoongi speaks again. “I thought I saw something while making my round,” he says, voice even and calm. “I found silhouettes lurking around the building and wanted to report it. I haven’t been able to find them, but I’ve been keeping my eye on the surrounding area and they haven’t seemed to have left yet.”

“...” Hoseok and Namjoon hold their breath.

“...” Taehyung and Jungkook cover their noses and mouths with their hands.

“...I see. We will make a few rounds through the area, then.”

“There’s also the suspicion that they might have been doing something to the place they were staying,” Yoongi adds. “I will bring you to the place in question so that you can make any notes of it,” they hear him offer. “Please allow me to lock the door first.

“Alright. Let us go, then. If we make haste we can look into this.” The sound of people begins to dwindle, and almost immediately the door is being unlocked and opened, and Yoongi grabs Hoseok by the hand and pulls him forward.

“Come out, quick,” he says, and continues before they even file out properly. “Watch for anyone coming from the back when you guys get out, okay?,” he says quickly. “The cars have come from the front and we’re going to circle around the building, so I want you guys to leave through the side. If you head towards the poured side of the building, there’s a small break in the fence that’s covered with tape. You should be able to get out through there. Rip it open, and I’ll tell them it was the raccoons.”

He begins to shut off the lights, grabbing his keys and his phone on the way out. “Make sure to leave five minutes after I do, and look out the window to see if you’re being watched. I’ll leave the door unlocked so you can get out.”

“You’re… letting us go?” Hoseok asks in surprise, and Yoongi turns to look at him.

“Do you want me to turn you in?” he asks back, raising an eyebrow, and Hoseok shakes his head fervently. At this, the guard quirks his lips and nods once.

“Yeah, I thought so. Go.”

--

“Okay, so the eggs are on sale today and we can save 220 won each pack for a limit of one per person, and we’re going to buy lettuce and bean sprouts and Taehyung is going to beg the ahjumma at the stall to give us some free kimchi because she likes him. We can’t afford actual meat right now so we’re going to make do with tofu and ham,” Jungkook reads off the list on his phone. Behind him, Hoseok scans the catalogue like he’s scanning a map. Behind him, Namjoon grumbles to himself. Behind him, Taehyung trails and looks at the items on the shelves, whether they are snacks or foot moisturizers it doesn’t matter.

“Why did all of us have to come here?” Namjoon asks, tapping his foot impatiently before he has to catch up a few extra steps.

“We didn’t,” Hoseok tells him, not looking up from the catalogue. “Jungkook’s in charge of groceries cuz the kid knows how to budget--” (“He shops like a frugal grandma!”) “--and I volunteered to go with since Taehyung won’t be of much help, and then we ran into you while we were all leaving and you decided to tag along without asking where we were going.”

“I thought you had a job! We usually go together for a job!”

“Yeah, well joke’s on you because we don’t have a job and we’re not going to have groceries if you don’t stop whining you little--”

Namjoon and Hoseok begin to argue as Jungkook runs from aisle to aisle, three guys following behind him like ducks. The baskets gets filled with cheap sustenance, and he swats away Taehyung’s attempts to put various random items into them.

“Taehyung-hyung, please don’t put broccoli in there.”

“You said healthy :(“

“Don’t you remember my broccoli phase? I’m not doing it again.”

Frowning, Taehyung turns back around, shoving the broccoli into a shelf along with the bagels as Jungkook crouches to inspect the prices of the bread. Hey, someone’s gotta give the people here something to do, amirite?

But then he looks up to see a familiar figure crouched over by the refrigerated section, restocking the semi-empty milk aisle. Taehyung leans back a little, and then a little more to get a clearer view of the guy, and then he’s doing a limbo just for the heck of it before he snaps himself upright and runs to tell his friends.

In the middle of walking forward, Namjoon’s shirt is pulled against his neck, causing him to choke. He stumbles and loses his balance and grabs onto the back of Hoseok’s shirt for support. Hoseok chokes and stumbles and grabs onto Jungkook’s shirt for support, who chokes but luckily does not stumble.

All three of them turn to Taehyung, different levels of annoyance in their face, but instead of looking apologetic he smiles excitedly and jabs a thumb to the space behind him.

“Guys! Look who I found!”

All four heads swivel at once towards the milk, and each person recognizes the employee at different intervals of time.

“Hey, isn’t that the security guard from last time?”

“Oh shit, you’re right. What’s he doing here?”

“Is he restocking milk?”

As if he can sense people talking about them, the security-guard milk-restocker(?) picks up his head from where he’s crouched and peering into the refrigerated aisle, and looks over. He takes in each of their faces, no doubt needing a bit longer to remember all of them, but when he does the man opens his mouth and lets out what can be the most exaggerated sigh in the history known to mankind. He turns back to his work.

Namjoon frowns at that. “That’s rude,” he says.

“Hello. Hey, yes hi good sir! You remember us, right?” Taehyung bounces over, his hand still gripping onto Namjoon, and he’s pulled along by the collar, choking. Hoseok and Jungkook share a look with each other before shrugging and following them too.

“Please leave me alone,” Yoongi says without looking up as they approach.

“I thought you worked at the construction site,” Hoseok says.

“I got fired. Can you leave me and my milk in peace?”

“Fired?” Jungkook repeats, sounding appropriately more apologetic. “Was it because of us?”

“Did they find out about us?” Namjoon asks, now rightfully worried, but Yoongi shakes his head.

“You guys are fine. They told me if there was gonna be such a mess just because I forgot to lock the door, quote, the one job I have, then I can just not come back.”

“Oh.” Namjoon rubs at his head, looking guilty. “Shit, we’re sorry, man. We didn’t want you to lose your job for us.”

“S’fine, whatever.”

“You should come with us!” Taehyung suddenly announces, and they all turn to him, different levels of shock once again. “What?” he says, shrugging. “We need manpower, anyways. Look at those noodle arms, Namjoon-hyung (“Hey!”). Hoseok-hyung your waist is so tiny it’s like I can snap you in half (“Not cool, dude.”). Jungkook--” he turns to look at Jungkook, who is carrying both baskets filled with food in his hands, and Taehyung looks away. “Anyways, you showed us your awesome cadet moves the other day, and we need someone nimble like that to help us on our missions.”

“Cadet moves?” Yoongi repeats, looking somewhat amused.

“Yeah! Hoseok-hyung remember when you had to climb that one tree the other day and then ended up falling onto Jungkookie cause you couldn’t get down? This would save all of our problems!” He pauses, and squints at Yoongi. “Do you know how to climb trees?”

“I mean yeah.”

“Perfect! So, now that that’s said and done--”

“You got any money?”

Everything freezes like they’ve been suddenly turned to ice. In the background, Hoseok’s sure he hears an exaggerated cracking sound.

“Aha. Aha. Aha,” Taehyung laughs nervously. “Money?”

“Money,” Yoongi nods. “I need to survive somehow, kid. You don’t expect me to work for free?” Taehyung sucks his lips into a pursed smoochy face, and Yoongi narrows his eyes and turns back to his work. “Then that’s that.”

--

“Oh my god,” Hoseok wails lifelessly by the side, watching as Taehyung hoists himself up on Jungkook’s back. The younger grunts at the added weight, but sucks in his breath and raises himself a little. Taehyung grasps the top of the brick wall, hissing at the way the roughness wears at his hands. “Oh my god,” he says again, chucking the brown bag of ghost capsules over the wall. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

“Unless you have another plan,” Namjoon says, his head in his hands. By now, Taehyung is kicking his legs to try and get some sort of boost from the air, but he fails miserable and just looks like a flailing animal.

“I did! I told you to seduce the grandma!”

“I tried, okay! She didn’t like me, what was I supposed to do?”

“I can’t believe she didn’t fall for the dimples, everyone falls for the dimples--”

“I don’t think the grandma could see very well,” Jungkook hums, watching Taehyung as the other grunts for someone to help him. He blinks a few times, before sighing and walking over.

“Woah, shi--” Taehyung says as he feels his legs being lifted. Next thing he knows his body’s almost completely straight, and tilted almost parallel to the ground. It’s a pretty cool position probably, if he didn’t feel his mini abs slowly beginning to burn.

“I don’t understand why we’re going through such lengths again for this. The grandma doesn’t believe us and we’re not going to get paid anyways; why don’t we just go hunt some other ghost?”

“Do we do this for the money, Jungkook? We’re doing this for the safety of our citizens. You know how bad they are at night.”

“Yeah, if anything it’d be better off knowing someone sleeps safely than having something happen while knowing we could have fixed it. I mean, getting compensation would be great as well, of course, but yeah.”

“Hoseok.”

“Ugghhhh, I know, but I can’t keep eating eggs and cheap kimchi and ramen for every meal my body can’t take it I used to be healthy you know???”

“Jungkookie, could you maybe--”

“Healthy?!” Namjoon scoffs. “With your caffeine addiction and love of soda I’d think you were on the way to stopping your--”

“Please, at least I exercised, you--”

“Kook, Kook, Jungkook ma bro you are too far away I’m like dying over here--” Taehyung grits, back arched and nearly giving out, “This is not the way to help, owowowowow--”

“Not the way, but,” Jungkook says, smile wide and shitty. “Hyung you look like superman, yknow?”

“Oh my god I’m not--” he falls nearly face first, the three of them having to rush to catch him on time.

“I fucking hate you so much,” Taehyung says when he catches his breath, whacking Jungkook on the shoulder.

“Guys,” Namjoon says, frown on his face, “stop fucking around. We have to finish this quietly before anyone notices us. Jungkook get back on the ground and Taehyung, step on him again.” He pauses, realizes what he’s just said, and flushes, squinting his eyes as if daring anyone to say anything.

The three of them have the same smile on their face but luckily they remain quiet. “Still, it would be pretty bad if the grandmother saw us trying to break into her house--and in like, what, broad daylight? We couldn’t have picked a better time, really.”

“It’s less creepy than at night,” Namjoon says, still red. “And there’s no one who walks this street anyways, so--” he looks to the side then, and immediately meets eyes with the ex-security-now-supermarket-extraordinaire--Yoongi, he remembers--looking at them with what must be the most animated emotion he’s seen on the guy.

Yoongi is frozen in his step midway, looking over with shock like a man who’d stumbled upon something he really hadn’t meant to, a mixture of confusion and horror. Hoseok, noticing his silence, looks over and curses. Then they all look over.

Yoongi finishes his step, turning his head away like he’s about to ignore the whole situation, but then he stops again, contemplating what to do. Then, he pulls out his phone.

“No!” Namjoon sprints over and grabs him by the arm, trying to wretch the phone away from his hand. Yoongi dodges him, but Jungkook has tackled him this time and is clinging onto him like a koala, and Hoseok wrestles the device from him as Taehyung drops to the ground once again.

“Agh, fuck, let me go!” he says, kicking at them, but they hold on tighter.

“No really, there’s a good explanation for this!”

“Yoongi-hyung, please listen to us!”

“It’s a ghost! There’s a ghost in there!”

“I love you hyung will you marry me.”

“Ugh--” Yoongi crumples to the ground, the fight in him leaving. “Why is it always you guys…”

--

“So you’re telling me there’s a ghost in that house--” they nod, “--and you all decided to… break in because the person wouldn’t let you in?” Yoongi finishes, looking more and more amused. The four of them nod again. “And you thought...that would be a good reason why?”

Namjoon pauses. “You know. Now that you say it, I don’t know. Who came up with that idea?” All of them look around shiftily, no one willing to take the blame.

“I really would have called the cops on you if one of you managed to enter,” Yoongi tells him, and they nod again.

“Why d’you think we stopped you?”

“I mean, have you tried talking to the person who lives in the house?”

“We have. It’s just,” Hoseok tilts his head from side to side, trying to prove a point. “I don’t think she really likes us.”

Yoongi remains quiet, looking at the four of them from head to toe. Taehyung’s face is shiny from sweat, his hair and clothes ruffled and brushed with the dirt of the floor. Next to him, Jungkook stands stiffly, his eyes wide like he’s trying to hide something. Hoseok and Namjoon stand next to them, not looking out of the ordinary per say, but having just seen them trying to lift a man into another person’s home…

“...Yeah, I guess I can see that,” Yoongi finally says.

“Hey!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I agree but I’m also offended.”

“I agree, not offended.”

“YOU LOT AGAIN?!” A scratchy, high-pitched roar startles most of them, Hoseok letting out a short scream while Namjoon bites his lips to prevent another curse from slipping out. When they look behind them, an elderly woman looking livelier than ever approaches at an alarming speed, waving her cane in the air in circles like she’s spinning a lasso. The wrinkles on her face are scrunched up in anger, and her voice is harsher on their ears as she approaches. “Didn’t I tell you guys to scram the first time?!”

“Grandmother!” Taehyung coos, clasping his hands together. “My favorite grandmother how are you today?”

“About to burst a vein seeing your face again! Why are you all here again?!” She full-on glares at Yoongi, who steps back in alarm. “And you brought another one, ey? Well, even with the five of you I wouldn’t let you in! Not over my dead body!!!”

“Geez, what did you guys do to the poor lady…” Yoongi mumbles under his breath, and Namjoon shakes his head from next to him.

“Nothing. I think she just thinks we’re trying to rob her. I guess I can understand why, but…”

“Grandmother?” Another voice calls from the other side of the house. It sounds much younger, maybe around their age or so, and it’s high and sweet. Immediately Namjoon thinks it would sound pretty in a song, and just as quickly he sees the rage on the grandmother’s face fade into a lovely smile, almost like she hadn’t been aggravated in the first place. Wow. The change is kind of scary.

“Oh yes, Jiminie, sweetie?” she calls out, rushing over towards the person. “Thank you so much, dear, you can just leave everything by the door.”

“Are you sure? I can help you put it on the countertop, at least,” the voice replies.

“Thank you, dear…”

Sharing a look with each other, the four of them crowd by the side of the house, each of them poking a head out to get a clear view of the interaction. They see nothing at first, ‘Jiminie’ probably having gone in with the old lady, but after a few minutes the sound of voices becomes clearer, and they can hear two people walking out onto the porch and finally towards the gate.

The grandmother is grasping a young man’s hand when they appear, his other hand going to play with his hair. “Come on back tonight, alright? I’ll give you some soup that I will make as thank you. I know how hard it is to be living on your own.”

“Oh, no, it really isn’t! It was no problem at all, you don’t have to go through all that trouble…” His eyes aren’t the biggest, but they sparkle with kindness, and when he smiles the apples of his cheeks show adorably. (Quietly, Namjoon covers his mouth with his hands and Taehyung clutches at his heart, pouting. Both of them are the weakest for cute things--er, people.)

“Nonsense, Jimin, you’ve helped me so much,” the grandmother coos, reaching up to stroke his arm. “Such a lovely young boy. Your parents raised you so well, dear.”

“Ah,” Jimin says, his face flushing bashfully. “No, it’s the least I can do. You and everyone else have made the neighborhood so friendly and welcoming, after all.”

The grandmother coos, patting him on the cheek. “Run along now, and drop by tonight for some soup, alright? I have the best recipes for it!”

“I’m sure you do, grandmother,” Jimin calls out in goodbye as he waves her back inside the house, before quietly closing the gate with a click and turning to leave. He’s met face to face with four eager souls, smiling widely at him, and Jimin jumps from the unexpected appearance. “Wah!” he screams, jumping back and positioning himself into some taekwondo fighting stance.

“Hello, I’m Kim Taehyung!” Taehyung chirps at him. Jimin blinks a few times. His posture relaxes.

“Hel..lo?”

“This is Kim Namjoon and Jung Hoseok, physics extraordinaires. We’re graduate students from Seoul National University of Science and Technology. Behind us is Yoongi-hyung, he’s a new recruit (“I am not--”),” Taehyung introduces swiftly. He points next to him. “That’s Jungkook. He doesn’t matter.”

“The fuck? I saved you guys 19,526 won as of today--”

“Shut up Jungkook no one cares what we’re trying to say is,” Taehyung takes a deep breath. “Willyouhelpusgetintothehomeofthatgrandmasowecansaveherlife.”

“...”

“...”

“...”

“...”

Jimin looks back and forth between the four of them in silence before he inhales and finally goes, “What?”

“Hear us out,” Taehyung says. “So.” He turns to Namjoon. “Take it away, my man.”

“Uh, what?” Namjoon splutters. “Oh, uh, well. So, recently, um, we’ve been experimenting, and we’ve come up with a way to test the total energy of a specific location, but if we compare the numerical outcome outputted versus the expected number taking into account the relevant external forces in the surroundings, the number is always five or more magnitudes above the expected value, and we were trying to formulate a hypothesis as to why…”

As he speaks, Jimin’s eyes gets wider and wider, no doubt trying to comprehend everything that’s being said. Next to him, Hoseok watches his friend fumble with his explanation, the words he’s using getting more and more technical before he finally chimes in.

“What he means,” Hoseok interrupts, stepping forward, “is that through a bit of trial and error we’ve discovered a bunch of ghosts infesting the city, and we’re trying to stop it. One of them seems to be in this grandma’s home, but she won’t believe us, and we’re afraid it might hurt her in some way. Ghosts get a little cranky at night.”

“...Ghosts,” Jimin repeats. Hoseok nods. “Oh. Oh! Ghosts!”

“Uh. Yes?”

At this, Jimin begins to laugh. His whole body seems to move with the action, and his laughter is so contagious that Taehyung finds himself beginning to smile along with it, before Jimin finally manages to compose himself. “Aw dude, that’s hilarious.”

“Hilarious?” Taehyung says, the smile on his face dropping. “No, no it’s true!”

“I’m sorry,” Jimin tells him, “but I can’t just,” here he air-quotes as he speaks, “‘let you guys go into the home of some person to get rid of this supposed ghost in her house.’ Who would believe that?”

“Wait!” Taehyung says, hands waving frantically in the air. “We can prove it to you, really! Here, look at this, the spikes in the reading show that the vicinity is spiking with extra energy, and if you look here,” he pulls out his phone and scrolls through his gallery for Jimin to see, “these pictures are the ghosts we’ve accumulated so far inside our house, they’re glowing without any source of--”

“Batteries,” Jimin says, raising an eyebrow.

“No! Really they aren’t!” But the more they try to convince them, the more skeptical Jimin seems to grow. Whereas before he’d listened with a small smile, now he stands with his arms crossed, face blank and voice level as if out of politeness than anything. Namjoon had even tried to load up a bit of his own research to present at one point, but that had backfired almost as soon as he’d mentioned Einstein’s Theory of Relativity. Which was pretty quickly, actually.

They’re about to consider just calling it quits and maybe coming back another day when a voice calls from behind the four of them.

“Just help them, they’re telling the truth.” When they turn around, Yoongi has his arms crossed as well, and he’s staring disapprovingly at the ground, like he’s regretting speaking up. Jimin takes a look at him and the frown on his face becomes more prominent. “I’ve seen it, they’re telling the truth.”

“Telling the truth?” Jimin parrots. “And how can I believe you? You’re one of them!”

“I am not one of them--” Yoongi argues, voice getting harsher as he looks up to meet the other’s eye, “and yes it might be hard to believe but it’s true, and you’re being stupid if you’re going to put someone’s life at risk just because you refuse to throw away these preconceived notions about how the world works.”

“Me?!” Jimin cries, offended. There’s no longer any ounce of amicability in his expression. Instead, he looks livid. “Putting someone’s life at risk would be to let a bunch of strangers into a lovely old lady’s home and let them do whatever they want! You guys can’t even provide any hard evidence for your argument you just keep spouting some weird concepts at me!”

Taehyung, sensing the hostility in the air, tries to say something, but Yoongi cuts him off before he can be heard.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t think back to anything when this guy asked you if there’s been anything weird going on because I saw you pause! If you ignore signs like that then you’re might as well plastering a big dumbass on your face and letting everything go to shit because I will tell you now that what you cannot see is stronger than anything you have probably dealt with, and you’re the idiot who’s going to let it happen.”

“Excuse me?! You’re being so rude right now you’re not even asking nicely anymore you asshole how do you expect me to trust any of you if you’re just going to threaten me once I say no, that’s not trying to help that’s forcing your way into someone’s business when they don’t need or want you to--”

“Nice?” Yoongi scoffs. “You want me to play fucking nice I don’t need to play fucking nice we’re trying to help protect that grandmother’s life right now!”

“And so am I, so I’m telling you all to back the fuck off and don’t bother us ever again or I’ll go in there right now and tell her you’re all trying to steal her shit and we’ll call the cops on you all!”

Fuck this shit!” Yoongi screams, turning around. “If you won’t believe us then fine you go deal with this yourself!”

“Yeah that’s right you better leave jackass, and the rest of you too, don’t try me I will call the cops so go!” Jimin reaches into the pocket of his jean jacket and pulls out his phone, holding it in front of them in warning. “Don’t come back!”

Namjoon and Hoseok exchange helpless looks as they pull the other two away from the house, Jimin glaring them down while he clutches his phone in his hand, fingers turning white and face icy and much scarier than what he’d looked like before. He doesn’t move a spot from the front of the old lady’s house, not even after they scamper down the street and turn the corner.

Yoongi stomps quickly, already halfway down the block, and Taehyung rushes to catch up to him and catch him by the arm. “Yoongi-hyung, wait!”

Yoongi snatches his arm back violently, the force so strong Taehyung recoils from the sting. “Agh,” he hisses, clutching at his hand.

“Don’t follow me,” Yoongi says. “It’s not my fucking problem, and I was never a part of you guys.”

“But hyung--!”

“I said,” Yoongi snarls, stepping forward. “Don’t,” he warns, and when Taehyung remains standing still, returning his stare with a sad one of his own, Yoongi steps back and turns around, continuing his pace and hurrying away from them.

“...What do we do now?” Jungkook asks, worried. He looks toward Namjoon. “They get bad, don’t they?”

Releasing a sigh, Namjoon drops his face into his hand. “I don’t know,” he says, looking back up. “I really don’t.”

--

“You really didn’t have to stay the whole time, dear, aren’t you busy?” The old lady asks worriedly as she places the lid back onto the pot. She turns around, where Jimin smiles back at her from the couch.

“Not at all, grandmother. I had nothing better to do today anyways, so I thought I’d keep you company! Plus, it’s been a while since I’ve been able to chat with you like this.”

“Oh, you’re so sweet,” she coos at him, her face lighting up into a warm smile. “You’re just like my grandson used to be. He was always calling me, asking how I was doing and such.”

Jimin’s smile dampens as she turns away to fumble with the plates, not having allowed him to help any further after he’d visited again for the day. The grandmother’s grandson had passed away a few years ago due to an accident, but after telling Jimin this with a tearful smile she’d picked herself back up almost immediately, offering to show him around the neighborhood since he’d just moved in, and taking care of him constantly just like his real grandmother did.

She was a strong and lovely person, and even if she wasn’t Jimin would rather fight a bear than to let those stupid liars into her home and sabotage the small bit of family he’s created in this city.

Which was why he was here tonight, trying to stay over as late as possible so to offer as much protection as he could. From her contented humming, she doesn’t seem to mind the company, so that’s good.

The night goes on smoothly into the later hours of the night, and soon the grandmother is already beginning to yawn. Jimin can tell she’s doing her best to stay awake, but in the end he ushers her off to bed after accepting her invitation to stay the night. She offers to lend him some more comfortable clothes that he gratefully takes, and he himself is tucked in and nearly asleep when the first noise sounds.

Jimin’s eyes shoot wide open.

What was that?

His mind goes back to the conversation he’d had with those five people earlier this afternoon, when they’d told him there had been a ghost trapped inside the house. Jimin knows it's baloney--at least, that’s what he wants to believe. But back then when they had been telling him about the possibility of a ghost in this house, he couldn’t help but think back to the way there always seemed to be this chilly air about, something watching him whenever he was inside. Now, he can’t help but linger on the thought. Even if wasn’t a ghost, the thought of a burglar or whatever being in the house doesn’t reassure him a bit.

He’s a little nervous, a part of him wanting to stay in bed and ignore whatever may be happening, but when the second shuffle sounds he sucks in a deep breath and kicks the blankets off of him, rolling himself to the ground.

Jimin was scared, alright, there’s no way he wouldn’t be, but if he’d promised to protect the grandmother and ended up just staying in bed the whole night and letting whatever horrible things happen then he’d surely regret it in the morning.

He tries to look around for anything he can use as a weapon, but aside from the small clock on the table and the lamp that’s plugged in there’s nothing Jimin can carry.

He settles for the lamp, quickly unplugging it from its power source and hugging it towards him with a grimace. The thing is still slightly warm and covered with a thin layer of dust, but Jimin grips on tighter as a form of security to himself. He grabs for his phone just in case, slipping it into one of his pants pockets before slowly pulling the door open and peeking out towards the hallway.

It’s completely dark.

Although he can make out the faint silhouettes of some of the furniture here and there, the shades have been completely drawn so as to give the house more privacy, but in doing so it also prevents the moonlight from shining in.

Looking around, Jimin steadily approaches the living room, where he’d heard the sounds coming from, but everything he sees is still. The house isn't too small, but the kitchen and living room are, sharing a single space with counters and a dining table that sits at max four separating them. Behind the room you first see when you enter is the hallway that leads to the two bedrooms and the bathroom, but other than that and maybe an attic if he looks, there isn’t any other space somebody can hide.

The dark silence is creepy, but at least it means there’s no intruder in the house, and that fact alone is reassuring to Jimin, who relaxes his hold on his trusty lamp and lets himself shiver against the cold of the house. He must look so stupid, clutching a lamp about half the size of himself and tiptoeing around someone’s house like this. Sniffling, Jimin decides to return back to the guest room and crawl back into the warmth of the blankets.

He can feel goosebumps rising along his arms, which is strange, because he knows the grandmother likes to crank her heat up until he’s damp underneath his clothes. But although he still hears the slow whirring of the heater, the place feels colder than ever before. Even his hands are beginning to feel numb. What in the world?

And that’s when it happens--a small chill travels up Jimin’s spine, and in that moment he feels something behind him, but Jimin is too frozen to move. The chill creeps all over his skin, up his neck and clutches at his ear, and then he hears it, a slow whisper than sounds less than human…

“My house.”

“Holy shit!” Jimin screams right as the sound of glass shatters from the lightbulb inside the lamp he’s holding. He drops it (so much for protection), throwing himself far away from the thing. Luckily, the lampshade had prevented most of the explosion from traveling any farther, and it doesn’t seem like Jimin’s cut anywhere, but as he runs to the switch for the overhead light he can feel his slippers nearly giving away from the sharpness of whatever it is that’s on the ground.

Jimin slams his hand against the switch for the light, but nothing happens, and he desperately tries it a few more times before a sharp, high shrieking pierces through the air. It sounds almost like a ringing, but more hollow, and the air seems even colder.

“G-grandmother--!” Jimin cries, trying to make his way back through the hallway, but as he steps closer this seems to anger the ghost. The shriek gets even louder, making Jimin’s eardrums throb. He clutches at his ears, steps faltering and leading him to the little area where the kitchen is. Just then something flies close to his face. His face and the back of his hand sting; when he presses a hand to his cheek, the tips of his fingers shine with the dark stain of blood.

Jimin stares, frozen, for a second, before another few shards whiz past him, and then he ducks, hiding his head inside his arms as well as he can. Pulling open the first cupboard his hand reaches, he grabs for the first thing he can find, something wide, with a large enough surface area. It’s a silver tray, and Jimin holds it up against him just as a bowl smashes into him. The tray rams back into his forehead for a bit, but other than that and the ringing echo of metal the bowl falls to the ground with a clatter.

Quickly, Jimin reaches up to slam the cupboard shut, but as he does so another one opens, and he curses, trying to make his way out of the small corner as quickly as possible. As he does so, a drawer shoots open. It hits him in the stomach, making him drop the tray, and just then the spray connected to the sink turns on and shoots cold water at him. Jimin stumbles from the sudden attack, and his elbow slams right back into the giant pot of soup he and the grandmother had been preparing earlier.

It’s no longer hot, but Jimin’s elbow throbs from where the impact had been. The soup, heavy enough as it is, actually tips over, and Jimin gasps as he tries to twist himself around to save it, but he can already see the cover of the pot lifting as the liquid begins to fall.

“Shit--!” he begins to cry, when suddenly the pot does something very strange and tips the opposite way. A bit of the soup had been pulled enough by gravity that it splashes onto the ground, but the kitchen trembles as the pot lands back onto the stovetop it had been sitting on, hard.

Jimin feels something terribly cold rushing through his body, and he shivers and darts away, nearly slipping on the spill.

Shit--oh god, those people from before, they were right, weren’t they? Reaching for his phone, his fingers fumble with the touch screen until he manages to turn on his flashlight, and the living room is lit in an eerie white hue, but there’s no one else but him in the room.

“Get out,” something moans at him, but Jimin can’t tell from which direction. His head swivels around, trying to find something for his eyes to latch on to. It sounds as if the house itself is groaning in anger.

Strangely enough, the hallway is quiet, and Jimin can’t hear any sign of struggle from within. Is the ghost only targeting him, then? Because he was awake? He doesn’t know, but if he’s lucky and there’s really only one, then he needs to lead it away from here.

Another ringing sounds directly in his ear, and without wasting time Jimin clambers his way to the door, clawing at the locks before pushing the door open.

Something forces him out and Jimin nearly flies down the few steps at the entrance. His foot throbs and he falls to the ground, but before he can pick himself back up and keep running, a voice calls from inside the house.

“What’s all this racket..?” Jimin hears as shuffling footsteps sounding on the wooden floor, and he feels a sense of horror creeping along his skin as he recognizes it. Reflexively, his hand still grabbing his phone shakingly aims the light at the door, illuminating the inside of the house where the grandmother is staring, wide-eyed, into the dark.

The light makes her recoil, eyes not used to the sudden brightness, but she squints back and her gaze lands on Jimin outside on the ground, taking in his soaked clothes and cut cheek. She gapes at him for a while, before the house comes to life and books begin to fly out from the bookshelf and straight at him.

For a second the whole place slows down. Jimin’s eyes widen slowly, and then close shut, arms moving towards his face as he hears the grandmother cry out from shock.

Instead, a heavy weight shoves itself into his side, forcing him to slide deeper into the dirt and leaves with a painful friction as the books slam straight into the ground where he used to be. Jimin gasps, trying to regain his breath, and when he opens his eyes he looks into the sharp, wide gaze of a familiar person.

“You--” Jimin splutters, but Yoongi doesn’t give him the time to continue as he looks up and turns sharply at the sound of the front door slamming. He quickly gets back up, tugging Jimin by the wrist along with him.

“You okay?” he asks distractedly, still pulling Jimin along with him.

“Yeah,” Jimin says. “The ghost. Ghost, it was real, you were right, I’m sorry--”

“Forget it, for now we have to get out of here--”

“No!” Jimin screams, his other hand gripping onto the arm holding him. His eyes are crazed when he speaks, but they are determined. “That ghost’s still in there, and so is Grandmother, we have to go back in--”

“We have no way of dealing with that thing,” Yoongi tells him, and Jimin shakes his head wildly.

“I don’t care,” he says, teeth chattering, “I don’t care we have to go back in there I am not leaving an elderly woman in there with some c-crazy ghost we have to help her!”

“I don’t have anything, we need to get a hold of those guys from before--”

“We don’t have time! What if that, that thing does something while we’re out here waiting for help? It didn’t follow me inside, it wants to stay in there, we need to get rid of it!”

“How are you going to help? You’re going to end up the same way you just did and…” Yoongi trails off, eyes trained on something in the other direction. He begins to move towards it, but Jimin grabs him tighter in panic.

“W-where are you going,” he asks, his eyes filling with fear.

Yoongi stares at him, before he gestures with his head over to the corner of the property. “What’s that?” he asks, and Jimin peers from behind him over to where Yoongi is pointing. It almost blends in with the ground at night, but looking more closely there seems to be a bag of some sort, and the two of them exchange a glance before heading carefully towards it.

The sack looks lumpy, like it’s filled with balls of cotton, but spilling out of it are strange, wired-up balls of plastic of some sort. It looks like some crazy science experiment. Jimin scrunches up his face in confusion, but Yoongi bends down and picks one up, holding it up for a better view.

“Wait…” Jimin says, “are you sure you should be touching that..?”

“This is one of those things,” Yoongi says.

“What?”

“Those suction things that they used last time.” He swipes a thumb over part of it. “It’s smaller now, and lighter, but I think they’re the same thing. They were around here earlier, too.”

“I...I don’t get it,” Jimin says quietly.

“To catch them, I think,” Yoongi says, testing the weight of the capsule in his hand. The previous one he’d held was made of glass and he could barely wrap his hands around it, but this one is smaller, although the inside mesh of wires seem to be similar. “You throw them, and it sucks them in or something.”

“So like a...pokeball?” Jimin asks, and Yoongi snorts.

“Yeah,” he says, the corners of his lips turning up as he turns to face Jimin. “Something like that.”

“Oh.” Jimin stays quiet for a bit, studying the other man. “Well, it works, right?” he finally asks. “Can we use it? Let’s go.” He looks toward the house, which is now silent like it’s waiting for something. He swallows, remembering the invisible force inside of the room, and clenches his hands into fists.

Yoongi, eyeing this motion, looks up again with a cautious glance. “You sure you want to go back in there?”

“Well I mean, no, but yes. I promised I would protect that grandmother, after all. You came back because you wanted to do the same thing, didn’t you?”

Yoongi doesn’t answer, and the two of them slowly move towards the house, testing out each step they take before they move on. When they reach the door, however, a slight tug tells them that it’s probably not going to budge even if they yank harder. Jimin waves Yoongi over and leads him around the house, stopping by one of the windows that’s covered by the blinds. It’s been loose for a while now, with the grandmother not bothering to fix it, and with a few pulls it begins to move. Jimin slowly pulls open the glass, tugging slightly each time so it won’t make a sound…

Until the thing creaks, of course, and the window nearly slams shut if not for Yoongi grabbing onto the edge and pulling hard in the other direction. The window opens with a loud thud. “Go inside,” Yoongi instructs, and Jimin wastes no time before he dives headfirst through the window, getting tangled in the blinds and blessing the fact that he’s small enough to fit through that.

This time when he dashes toward the light and flips the switch, the room is engulfed in a warm yellow glow, but it does nothing to ease the chill in the air. The grandmother is laying on the floor, unconscious, body rising and falling with slow breaths as a chair cushion supports her head and a thin blanket lays on top of her. Jimin makes another questioning face at the strange scene.

“So she’s safe,” Yoongi points out as he enters without a sound, making Jimin jump.

“Um, yeah…” Jimin says, surveying the scene. Strangely enough, the house looks much too tidy for the turmoil that had occurred just minutes ago. It’s like everything as cleaned up, almost as if… “Is that thing gone?” Jimin mumbles to himself, right before another book comes shooting in his direction, the rest of the bookshelf rattling like it’s waiting to fire.

Jimin yowls, running back towards Yoongi and slamming his body into him. Yoongi flinches at the sudden contact, but holds onto him nonetheless. “It is not gone it is not gone!” He screams, eyes flitting from corner to corner.

“Yeah genius, it tried to close the window on my fingers so I figured it didn’t just leave,” Yoongi scowls at him. Ignoring the panicked man, he looks around the room with narrowed eyes, but after the sudden ambush it is quiet again, nothing moving or out of place.

It’s not throwing things in every direction, and it’s waiting. Which means it’s smart. “Fuck,” Yoongi says out loud, and Jimin turns to him worriedly.

“What, what does that mean, why’d you say that?”

“I don’t know where it is,” Yoongi tells him, remembering the glasses he’d worn the last time. Fuck, he’d totally forgot about those. It really was much harder without them. “I need to aim for it to work.”

“Well, you had a whole bag of those things, right? Can’t you just, I don’t know, chuck some everywhere?” Jimin asks, before he looks Yoongi up and down and sees...no bag in sight. “Wait where is it?”

Yoongi looks a bit sheepish at this. “...I only brought one,” he says.

“YOU ONLY BROUGHT ONE???” Jimin shrieks. “Why did you only bring one??? Are you trying to kill us???”

“I thought...I forgot,” Yoongi tells him, looking down at the ground to avoid eye contact while Jimin goes ballistic.

“You forgot--how could you possibly forget, I hate you so much--” Just then, the window behind them suddenly swings wide open and the table that had been in the center of the living room suddenly flips up and flies towards them. It’s a large object and so it’s slower. The two of them manage to avoid it in the nick of time. Jimin grabs onto the closest shelf in order to avoid falling while Yoongi lands on the other side of the room, closer to the door. On the ground, the lady remains peacefully unconscious.

“I lied,” Jimin says quickly, beginning to ramble. “I lied so much I don’t hate you please don’t kill me, oh my god it just tried to whack us out the window.”

On the other side, Yoongi keeps surveying the room, eyes traveling one place to the next with utmost attention. He glances down at the capsule in his hand and just as quickly looks back up. He doesn’t really know how it works; the old one felt a little more fragile but it also had a telltale feeling of something being sucked into it.

He could try throwing it, but he’s not sure it’s sturdier than the one he’d used last time, so if it falls it might break. At the same time, he’s not sure it’s even working.

Does he need to turn it on?

Or is it automatic?

He could try, but if it fails and he ends up letting the...thing take the one form of offense they have since he was too overconfident (he’ll never admit that out loud though), then the two of them are pretty screwed.

At the same time, it doesn’t seem like whatever’s in the house really wants to kill them...unless you count that table it’d flung at them earlier. There’s a perfectly good set of knives somewhere in this house, but unlike the first thing he’d encountered this one hasn’t been pointing and sharp objects in their direction, which means it just wants to get rid of them, but it’s aiming for when the two of them are off their guard, which makes it even more dangerous…

His mind goes through these thoughts while Jimin jitters, his constant voice more a distraction than anything. Yoongi glares at the him. “Can you shut up for a bit?” he tells him. “I’m trying to think.”

“How can you stay so calm at a time like this?” Jimin asks him. “It’s reassuring but, there’s a ghost in this house. It’s trying to kill us.”

“Things I can’t see piss me off more. And it’s not trying to kill us,” Yoongi says, “it just wants us out.” Jimin looks at him, and then his mouth slowly opens.

He’s right. His eyes shift towards the grandmother, who is still unconscious. She’s unhurt, no matter what, and Jimin’s pretty sure she hadn’t gone to get that pillow and blanket herself.

“Zombies freak me the fuck out though,” Yoongi mumbles, but in the dead silence of the room Jimin hears it perfectly clear, and they both freeze when the words register. “I don’t know why I said that,” Yoongi says as he looks at him, flushing, and Jimin bursts into laughter.

“Dude what the heck?”

“Shit duck!”

“Oh fuck!” Jimin rolls instead of ducks, a bunch of fruits smashing into the shelves behind him. They plow into the ornaments stored inside, and they shatter into a billion tiny pieces. Jimin stumbles to avoid the shards, tripping over his feet and feeling himself fall before something extremely cold hits against his back and rams him a few feet away, Jimin twirling midair in the middle of a fall.

He lands on his hands and knees, hard, grimacing at the strain he’d just put on his wrists and wondering what had just happened. When he looks next to him he sees the grandmother lying peacefully next to him, and Jimin understands. Was it trying to protect her?

He looks around at the empty air, and just for a second, something seems to shift for just a bit, hovering above the grandmother.

Jimin’s eyes continue staring, trying to make sense of it, and the more he stares the more the strange blur seems to sharpen in focus, before it slowly begins the resemble the shape of a human. “What…” he breathes.

“It’s right there, don’t move,” Yoongi says.

“Wait, no!” Jimin says, but Yoongi’s already throwing the capsule as he speaks, and Jimin jumps in front of it, whacking the thing out of its course. It smacks against the floor with a crack and rolls off to a corner. Yoongi turns back to him, glare so strong Jimin flinches.

“What the fuck, kid,” he snarls.

“S-something’s weird,” Jimin tells him. When he looks back at the place he’d seen the silhouette before, it’s no longer there. “The ghost is protecting the grandmother. I don’t think it’s trying to hurt her.”

He remembers her telling him about her grandson, and how he’d passed away due to an accident. If he remembered correctly, the boy’s name was...

“M-minjae~” he tries to sound friendly, but no matter how much Jimin wants to hope that the ghost is a benevolent one he’s still afraid, and his voice shakes as he speaks. “I-is it you?”

There’s no answer, and Jimin’s shoulders sag. Of course, what had he been hoping for?

The lights turn off.

Jimin can hear Yoongi beginning to say something, but it sounds far off and muddled, like he’s speaking from underwater. That’s the least of his problems, however, because right in front of him is the ghost of the house, so white it glows in the darkness. It’s got three holes on its face, shifting circles that are muddy and dark in place of its eyes and mouth, and Jimin wants to scream but no sound comes out.

The ghost moves closer to him, until it’s barely a hand’s width away. Intruder, it whispers, voice like a child’s this time rather than that haunting, hollow shriek, or that low, groaning tone. Jimin doesn’t know what’s scarier.

The ghost tilts its head, and Jimin finds the strength to shake his head. “N-no,” he says.

Or tries to. He doesn’t hear himself speak, however. But the ghost seems to understand him anyways, because it repeats after him.

No? It asks.

‘No,’ Jimin shakes his head again. ‘I’m a friend. I’m not here to hurt your grandma.’

...Liar.

‘No! I’m telling the truth! Your grandma, she’s taking care of me now, and I’m thankful to her. That soup, she made it for me too. I’m here to protect her.’

Protect?

Yes.

Will you protect grandma?

Yes.

The ghost shifts its head the other way, and then its form begins to take a more solid form, until a glowing small child takes shape. Promise? It asks.

Of course, Jimin thinks. For a long time, so you don’t have to be worried. He still feels cold, but strangely the chills seem to have gone away. The child nods, like it’s telling itself to believe him.

I see you a lot, so I believe you, it tells him. I’m tired, it says. Will you protect grandma for me?

Yes, so you can go rest now.

Promise?

Pinky promise. Here. Jimin holds out his pinky, and the child looks at it before shyly reaching out its own pinky, and curling it around Jimin’s. The touch goes straight through him, but the child looks content, and it smiles at him sweetly. Go rest now, Jimin tells it. I’ll tell grandma that you said hi.

The child continues smiling, not moving except for a small nod, but slowly it glows just a bit brighter before it begins to dissipate, and Jimin watches it go with a small wave, before all he sees is the darkness again.

A voice gets clearer as he continues trying to listen for the sound, and Jimin snaps open his eyes to Yoongi hovering above him, looking absolutely freaked out. He quiets when he sees that Jimin is awake, not sure whether to touch him or not. “What happened..?” Jimin asks, trying to sit up, and the other helps him.

“You passed out,” Yoongi tells him.

“I passed out? But didn’t you see the ghost?”

“No, not after that last time when it tried to attack you.”

“But--but the lights went off and it was glowing and…” he trails off once he notices Yoongi’s uncertain expression.

“The lights never went off,” Yoongi tells him, and Jimin blinks. Then he’s suddenly being pinned down, Yoongi’s grip so tight he feel himself bruising. “You’re possessed,” Yoongi accuses, voice hard.

“Ow!” Jimin whines. “Ow ow ow no I’m not, let me go! It passed on! I think it passed on!” Yoongi doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t let go, either. “I’m sorry I didn’t trust you guys earlier, but please trust me I swear I’m me! Yoongi---hyung?”

At the sound of his name, Yoongi lets go of him reluctantly, moving back so there’s enough distance between the two of them. “That’s your name, right?” Jimin mumbles, pushing himself up. “That’s what I heard them call you.”

Yoongi stares at him, still unsure, before he visibly relaxes. “Are you okay?” he asks, and Jimin nods, smiling.

“Yeah. I’m freezing and super tired, but I feel fine, surprisingly.” He looks around to survey the damage. Although the ghost seems to be gone now, it hadn’t done anything to reverse its actions before leaving. “The house, on the other hand…” Well, the grandmother did see Jimin getting tossed out of the house, so if she remembers that…

“Is the old lady okay?”

“Hm? Oh yeah, I think she’s just in a deep sleep right now, but I’m sure she’s okay. It wouldn’t have done anything to harm her. I might want to move her back to bed or at least the couch, but… Anyways, I was wondering if one of you guys would show up tonight, to be honest. I didn’t think it’d be you, though. Thanks for coming back, even though I was so mean to you before.”

Suddenly, the doorbell rings, although Jimin has no more energy left inside him to flinch at the sound. From outside, they can hear a voice call out, “Er--uh, hello! I was wondering if you had any time to discuss some property issues?”

Jimin shoots up into a straight position, panic filling his eyes again. He looks around at the mess in the house, and then at the unconscious grandmother, and then at Yoongi. “Oh no, what do we do?”

But Yoongi only sighs. “I know that voice,” he says, and without elaborating he gets up and goes to open the door. Jimin turns to the unconscious grandmother on the floor, and then to the house, panicking, before he quickly gets up and hurries over as well.

Outside, Hoseok stands with a very busy looking, obviously party-store bought mustache attached to his lips and circular glasses, wearing a business suit that is too big on him. His eyes bulge wide when he sees who it is at the door. “Yoongi-hyung???” he asks, rubbing at his eyes to make sure he’s seeing straight. “Why are you here?” Behind their new recruit, the young angry man from earlier today appears at the door, and Hoseok promptly goes “FUCK--I mean hello dear sir! It’s so nice to see you on this beautiful night!”

He pauses. “Wait, why are you both here?” Then he double-takes at Jimin and places a hand over his mouth. “Oh my god, are you okay?” he asks softly, forehead creased with worry.

Self-consciously, Jimin goes to comb through his hair, and flushes when he feels a bit of dried leaves untangling themselves and falling to the ground. “I’m alright,” he mutters. “Here, why don’t you come in, I’ll open the gate.” Hoseok thanks him, and then turns around and makes a slicing motion at his neck, shaking his head.

“What’s going on, did you fail?” Jungkook hisses from somewhere out of sight.

“I fucking told you guys this was a bad idea,” Namjoon scowls.

“Did you say Yoongi-hyung?”

They file out into the open, each of them wearing their own fake mustache (although Namjoon rips his off almost immediately) and some rendition of a disguise. Jungkook has on some police uniform, Namjoon is donning an electrician’s outfit, and Taehyung is in some sort of costume that vaguely resembles a Detective Conan cosplay.

“Yoongi-hyung!” Taehyung looks touched. “You really did come back! You do care!” he squeals, running over to capture the man in an embrace.

“How did you guys plan on getting in here together like that?” Yoongi asks, taking in each of their outfits, and Taehyung, Hoseok, and Namjoon begin all talking at once as they try to argue out the precise plan for the night. It still doesn’t seem any better than their last attempt, but Yoongi’s too tired to argue otherwise.

“What happened to you?” Jungkook asks Jimin instead, looking him up and down as the latter shrinks in on himself even more. His eyes are bloodshot and his hair is a mess, not to mention the giant red spot on his forehead and the dirty, damp clothes hanging off him. “Oh my god, was it the ghost?”

This seems to catch the attention of the rest, and Jimin laughs guiltily as he nods. “Yeah, it, uh. It got a little overprotective.”

“Overprotective?”

“I have--” Jimin takes a deep breath. “A ton of things happened. The grandmother is still inside so I also need to--actually, would you guys like to come inside?”

At his offer, they look uncertainly at one another. “I mean, we wanted to, but are you really sure..?” Hoseok asks him, and Jimin nods. “That old lady won’t be happy.”

“She’s not going to be happy when she wakes up either way,” Jimin sighs. “I’ll explain to her, promise. It might be a little better with people who know a bit more about what’s going on than me, really.”

“Idunnoaboutknowingmore...” Jungkook mutters, and Taehyung knocks him with his shoulder.

As they file into the house, now cold with the outside air freely filtering in, Jimin catches Yoongi by the sleeve again. “Hey,” he says, the others already a few steps ahead of them. “I just wanted to say it again. Thank you.”

Yoongi looks at him, and then down at the tug on his sleeve. “I didn’t do anything,” he says, “so you really don’t have to…”

“But still, thank you. Really.” He looks exhausted and a mess, but the smile Jimin gives him is sincere, and Yoongi nods, pulling away from him.

“It’s no problem,” he mumbles, but nonetheless gives a small smile of his own.

From the inside, they can hear the angry squawking of an elderly lady who has just woken up, followed by the placating pleas of four college students.

“What are you kids doing in here?!” she screams, followed by an, “Oh, my head…”

“Ah, grandmother!” Jimin calls, letting go of Yoongi’s arm and hurrying back inside. “Wait, it’s alright, I let them in!”

"Jiminie dear? What happened…?”

“Oh, there’s a lot I have to tell you…”