Chapter Text
☆
i’ve had dreams where there’s blood on you
all those dreams weigh on my life
☆
...don’t you know?
“don’t you know the story of how the world ended?” jungkook asks when he finally pulls away from the older.
the two boys sit on seoul’s dead earth and stare at the sunrise.
for the first time in centuries, the sky is a blend of colors and not just various shades of grey.
yoongi leans back next to jungkook, eyes following the curves of peach and violet.
he doesn’t immediately respond, doesn’t have a response, doesn’t have any idea why the world collapsed, truly collapsed.
he read that essay about the environment’s deterioration, but yoongi doesn’t know how reliable it is.
yes, the rivers dried up and the sky caved in, but there’s more to it.
there must be more to it.
because if it was truly just the decaying of land and sea, that still doesn’t explain why jungkook’s here.
yoongi’s people believe there’s beauty in violence and gore, and his people believe the world’s collapse was a natural disaster out of their control.
but was it?
“i know the cities fell into sinkholes.” yoongi says.
jungkook tilts his head to the side, and orange light from above paints his face with an ethereal glow. “do you know why?” he asks.
“the earth couldn’t hold them up anymore.”
“but do you know why?” jungkook repeats.
yoongi doesn’t reply, but he doesn’t have to for jungkook to know his answer.
“the earth’s been around for 4.5 billion years.” jungkook doesn’t look at yoongi when he says this, settles for staring out to the wasteland around them. “my mother used to be its keeper, and it was never an issue. she was always healthy, as all deities should be.” jungkook tears his eyes from the land that was once seoul and looks down. “gods aren’t supposed to get hurt or bleed or be killed, hyung.”
there’s bitterness in the younger’s voice.
“she had me a few centuries ago, back when everything was alright, wanted a child to bring her happiness and joy. she used to call me her sunshine child, hyung. they used to say i was brighter than the sun. the gods all loved me, would threaten anyone who looked at me the wrong way.”
jungkook’s smiling, but it’s not a happy smile.
“but then things changed.”
☆
the end of the world went like this:
a mother holding her son’s hand, blinking away tears, coughing ash from tarnished lungs, falling into states of unconsciousness.
her son, not understanding the circumstances, asking to go back down to earth to meet new people, insisting that he’ll only be gone for a few decades.
which, for a god, isn’t much.
but for a dying god?
it’s a terrifying amount of time.
the end of the world went like this:
blood.
a lot of blood.
too much blood.
especially for a god.
empty veins and torn capillaries and static arteries.
brittle fingernails and hair torn out in agony.
a boy rushing up to the heavens.
a boy at his mother’s side trying to help but not knowing how.
pleading eyes and a promise.
an unsaid goodbye and then nothing.
hands falling limp.
eyes rolling back.
lips turning blue.
skies fading grey.
☆
“i don’t know why she always agreed to let me come down to earth. i would do it for fun, for self entertainment. i didn’t grasp how sick she truly was.”
jungkook runs his fingers through his hair.
“i’d reincarnate myself onto earth to be a sailor, an expeditioner, a doctor, a comedian, a priest, a singer. sometimes i went down to earth and was absolutely no one at all. i’d sleep next to dumpsters in the slums just to experience life and people and cultures.”
he brings his hand to his lap, bangs dropping back down across his forehead.
“i loved it, loved the way it felt to roll dice and wake up in a different remote corner of the world in a different time period.” jungkook reminisces. “i’d like to think i’ve learned a lot from it, hyung." jungkook still doesn't look at yoongi when he says this. "you can’t control what kind of life you’re born into, but you can control where you go.”
the faint smile returns to jungkook’s face.
“i lived so many lifetimes that i began being able to recognize every person on earth.”
he briefly looks up to yoongi, holding eye contact before letting his gaze fall back to the ground.
“but then the gods sent me a message telling me to return to the heavens. they said it was an emergency, and so i jumped off a building and came back. my mother was coughing up blood when i got to her, and the gods told me to stay until she got better, and i did. i would hold her hand into the late hours of night and wash her bleeding hands and sing her songs i learned from earth.”
jungkook reaches out to catch a stray speck of gold light drifting near his feet. when it touches his hand it melts back into ash.
“but she never got better.” he continues. “and then one night she pulled me close and told me to take care of her earth, and i didn’t understand what she meant at first.” jungkook’s voice cracks. “she passed away a week later, something unheard of among the gods. the earth collapsed, hyung. it fell apart, and it was falling apart before that, but once she died everything fell in on itself. the people, the animals, the plants, every lifeform was crushed in landslides, and then the land was poisoned from acidic tsunamis, and then the oceans dried up and nothing was left.”
jungkook’s words are haunted.
“the underworld was overwhelmed with burdened ghosts and terrified spirits. what was it, 9.5 billion people? they demanded to know who was at fault for their fate, who was responsible for their bad omens. the gods wouldn’t let me down to the underworld to talk to them, but if i could, i would’ve told them…” jungkook trails off.
i would’ve told them it was their own fault.
“the gods were furious, not because of earth’s fate, no. they didn’t care about the earth. the gods were furious because once my mother died i started coughing up ash. my lungs would constrict and i’d black out like my mother had when she first got sick. they didn’t know what to expect, gods weren’t supposed to die, but once they realized that i had been forced to inherit her role as earth’s keeper, they were enraged.”
jungkook grits his teeth.
“it was the first time i felt physical pain, real physical pain. as a god i never had experience with burns and suffocating and blood, and for the first few days i thought i was going to die. i thought that there was no way i’d be able to hold an already dead planet on my shoulders. the gods thought so too, although they never said it. they tried to take care of me, but they didn’t know how to heal someone who wasn’t supposed to be able to be hurt in the first place. everyone thought i was going to die, but pain changes you. it doesn’t do any healing, only really damages you, but it does change you. and after a few days passed, i learned how to deal with the feeling of my bones bruising with every breath. i learned how to inhale with lungs that were filled with smoke and pollution.”
jungkook doesn’t look up from the ash at his feet.
“healing the earth was the only way to save myself without losing her. she told me to take care of it for her. the gods wanted me to abandon the earth, told me there was a way to let it go without losing me in the process. i didn’t want that, and they knew it. they still tried to stop me though.” jungkook blinks a few times. “but they couldn’t.”
☆
the rebirth of the world went like this:
a boy once made of sunshine now withered organs and compressed lungs.
he’s falling.
falling back down to the planet that’s not really a planet anymore.
he had run away into the night.
promised himself he’d only be gone for a few hours.
just to see what was left.
just to see what remained.
he hits the ground with a broken ankle and a gasp for air.
the oxygen’s gone.
everything’s gone.
it’s cold.
unbearably so.
especially for what it used to mean to the young god.
it needs warmth.
campfires.
burning hearths.
hands to hold hands.
the rebirth of the world went like this:
stumbling across the flattened earth.
looking for signs of survival.
looking for anything.
loss.
a lot of loss.
an attempt to sew the ozone layer back together.
a cry of defeat.
an attempt to revive the once fertile soil.
nothing at first.
just silence.
and waiting.
and then a small bud of something sickly yellow emerging between a crack in the earth.
another stuttered cry.
but not of defeat.
the rebirth of the world went like this:
crying.
a lot of crying.
a boy who’s lonely.
rightfully so on the dead planet.
a boy who doesn’t want to kill himself so he can return to the heavens just yet.
a boy who’s sitting alone on the deserted land.
it’s not as terrible as it could’ve been, he thinks to himself.
it just needs life.
trees.
fish.
pomegranates.
hummingbirds.
sunflowers.
people.
☆
“that’s why you’re here now.” yoongi states, the picture becoming clearer in his mind.
“but that’s not why you’re here, hyung.” jungkook looks back up, tears now drying on his cheeks. “you’re here for a different reason.” he sniffs. “i’m here to make this place a planet. to make sure it doesn’t fall off orbit or stop rotating or stop tilting on its axis. but you’re here for a far more important reason. you’re here to make it less lonely. to make it alive. to make it the earth.”
it suddenly makes sense to yoongi—why jungkook looks at him like he’s something precious.
“i did something i wasn’t supposed to.” jungkook confesses. “when i left earth to return to the gods, i snuck away to the underworld and brought back to life 100 of my favorite people from earth. i reincarnated them into a small civilization a few kilometers from incheon.”
“my village.” yoongi connects.
“it wasn’t supposed to turn out the way it did.” jungkook’s voice is downcast. “everyone there…” he trails off. “they’re good people, the best people even. they’ve just been mislead.”
“where did the ideals come from?”
jungkook sighs. “your people didn’t come up with them, if that’s what you’re asking.” he frowns. “societies can’t be built out of nowhere, and so i wrote a history for your village. i built it on the ideal of indulgence, you’re people just interpreted it the wrong way.”
yoongi thinks back to every horror of his childhood, every abused animal, mutilated body, incinerated tree. “how could having indulgence as the defining value of a society ever be a good idea?” yoongi asks gently, and maybe yoongi’s a little bitter himself, but not bitter enough to spit these words at the already traumatized young god.
“i just wanted the people to be happy.” jungkook struggles out. “i lived so many past lives, hyung. do you know how many people i witnessed stand in the way of their own happiness? more than 9.5 billion.”
there’s a pleading look in the younger’s eyes, like he’s begging yoongi to believe him as if yoongi would ever not.
“i thought maybe if i made the ideal self indulgence, the people wouldn’t be so afraid to chase after their happiness.” the morning sun reflects in jungkook’s eyes, and he’s sitting pretty in the colors of the earth, but he’s blue. for once, the world around him is a rendition of red and green and gold and purple and orange, but the young god is blue.
the sky used to be blue, yoongi recalls to himself. but then it faded into grey. it dissolved into the color of broken glass and scratched metal and cracked foundations.
yoongi doesn’t want jungkook to be grey.
☆
how do you tell the earth it’s going to fall apart if the planet itself doesn’t believe in death?
☆
“we can go back to my village.” yoongi proposes, still sitting across from jungkook. “you can tell them who you are, and we can fix the interpretation of indulgence.”
jungkook looks up at yoongi, a sliver of hope in his eyes. “will they listen to me?”
yoongi doesn't know, but he says “they’ll have to.”
jungkook doesn’t seem convinced.
“seokjin was planning on making me a town elder. they’ll listen to me, and so they’ll listen to you.”
jungkook thinks about it for a moment, and then he nods his head.
the two rise to their feet and set out in the direction of yoongi’s village with the morning sun on their backs.
☆
may your words always be spoken,
so the universe can hear them.
may your words always be spoken,
even if nobody listens.
may your words always be spoken,
even if they do not reach who you want them to.
because your words will always reach the universe.
the universe will always listen.
somebody will always listen.
speak your words and let the people know,
that you will not be unheard.
☆
on the journey back, jungkook kisses him a few times.
it’s innocent.
doesn’t mean much, or at least, doesn’t mean as much as it could.
but in this instant it’s just a light kiss, a grace of lips on lips.
the younger will get distracted by yoongi and the fact that yoongi’s there, and the fact that yoongi now knows, and the fact that yoongi’s trying to help him. as always, yoongi’s just trying to help.
jungkook will pull the older close and nip his bottom lip and then blow a sweet kiss onto his nose.
and everytime, yoongi will grasp onto jungkook’s elbow so he doesn’t fall.
he can’t help that his knees buckle everytime the young god kisses him.
it’s just like how the trees can’t help but curl and sway everytime the young god laughs. or how the flowers can’t help but bloom wider or how the leaves can’t help but shine brighter everytime he smiles.
jungkook holds onto yoongi’s hand and guides him through the forest, and for some reason it feels familiar.
it feels like something that's happened before.
☆
the black haired boy may only carry these memories with him until the end of his life.
but the young god will carry them with him until the end of time.
☆
“were we in love?” yoongi asks after one particular kiss. jungkook had closed his eyes and breathed against yoongi’s lips for a few seconds in hesitation. it wasn’t a lot, but it was enough to give yoongi the courage to ask.
“i’m sorry.” is jungkook’s immediate reply. “you don’t know me that well, and i’ve been kissing you a lot.” he flushes. “it’s just an old habit. i should be more considerate. i’m sorry, hyung.”
jungkook tries to pull away, but yoongi holds onto his hand not letting the distance between them grow. “were we in love?” he repeats.
jungkook gasps quietly and levels his stare with yoongi’s. he eventually breaks eye contact and mumbles. “we were.”
“what happened?” yoongi asks because this is different than just the world ending.
“i’ve had many loves, yoongi hyung.” jungkook replies. “i’ve lived enough past lives to be able to recognize more than 100 billion people.”
yoongi doesn’t like the way this is said so matter of factly, so detachedly, so impersonal. “but we were in love, right?” yoongi confirms.
jungkook crumbles a little, and yoongi curses himself for always making the younger blue.
but jungkook doesn’t cry, just looks away for a moment and blinks a few times and then looks back to yoongi.
“i’ve had many loves, yoongi hyung.” he whispers. “but none i remember quite as well as i remember ours.”
☆
“we were in a band.”
“like a marching band?”
“no, hyung. a singing band.”
“were we any good?”
“i’d like to think so.”
☆
when they reach the line where the green forest turns grey, yoongi finds the sunflower crown he had left there earlier. it’s only been a few days, but the sight of it still surprises him.
jungkook catches sight of it too. “i chose sunflowers as a symbol for the people.” he says. “sunflowers always follow the light. they always change and tilt and maneuver to face it.”
yoongi thinks about his people and what they’ve become. “i wonder what changed.”
jungkook opens his mouth to reply, perhaps, that the world ended. but they both know that that’s not the answer, not the entire one. there’s more to it than just the world ending, and so jungkook doesn’t say anything.
☆
“you used to be a rapper.”
“that one’s a lie. i’m terrible with words.”
“no you aren’t, hyung. you just filter them now. you think a lot. you just don’t feel comfortable sharing your thoughts anymore.”
“how do you know i think a lot?”
“i knew you.”
“but how do you know that that’s the same me?”
“sometimes you have to take a leap of faith.”
☆
they find the remains of the deer from the age of one sacrifice ceremony.
its skeleton is in a heap of blackened ruins three quarters of the way into the dead forest.
jungkook doesn’t ask what it is, just stares at it when they comes across the sight.
he seems to understand unbelievably fast though, catches on in a matter of heartbeats.
the young god makes a brief noise of distress to himself, but then he approaches the pile of ash and bones.
he doesn’t bend down closer to it, doesn’t reach to touch it. he just mutters something indecipherable and closes his eyes.
yoongi doesn’t close his eyes though, watches jungkook and the deer’s dead body.
yellow lilies begin to blossom on the corpse and then all around it.
the yellow polarizes its black and grey surroundings.
yoongi doesn’t know what it means, but he finds it fitting.
☆
maybe if the sky was any color but blue, our perception of the universe would be different.
☆
when they arrive to yoongi’s village, it’s no different than when he left.
it’s not monumental, not that yoongi would expect it to be.
he guides jungkook through the gate marking the village’s entrance, the one seokjin had met him at after his human sacrifice.
they walk down the cobblestone path that leads to the cottages.
everything looks the same, looks grey.
the hearth isn’t ignited, but it almost never is.
“this is where you grew up?” jungkook asks, and maybe it’s just to say something, or maybe it’s because he genuinely wants to know. maybe it’s because a part of his heart truly wonders what sort of life yoongi’s lead in this second humanic generation he’s created.
“it is.” yoongi replies.
“it’s different than what i expected.”
“how so?”
“it looks like a town. from the way you’ve explained the cruelty, and from the way i’ve felt it too, i envisioned it as a far more miserable place. it’s different though, seems like a village, seems fragile.”
“is it your first time visiting?”
“yeah.” jungkook answers. “i’ve wanted to visit more times than i can count, but the idea of seeing all the people who’ve ever meant something to me? it’s frightening, hyung. facing all those different people, facing all those different past lives, all those memories, it’s overwhelming.”
“you shouldn’t have to worry about seeing people.” yoongi replies. “there was a sacrifice yesterday, and so most won’t leave their homes today.”
“is that part of the tradition?” jungkook asks.
yoongi swallows, continues to walk. “it’s not.”
sometimes yoongi wouldn’t leave his cottage for weeks. nobody would notice or care. it wasn’t a big deal. people locked themselves away, and it was normalized.
maybe it shouldn’t have been.
if things were different, maybe people would’ve knocked on yoongi’s doors when he couldn’t get himself out of bed. maybe he would’ve learned the names and faces of those he grew up with, but he didn’t.
yoongi’s lived in his village for his whole life, but he’s not sure if he could recognize seven of his people. they all blur together at the ceremonies. their tattoos all blur together. their cheers all blur together. their values all blur together.
when they get to yoongi’s cottage, the door’s locked.
it sets the black haired boy off because he’s never locked his door, never had someone who’d need to come in, never felt it necessary.
he tells jungkook this, and the young god knocks on the door three times. it opens after a moment.
the person standing on the other side should be a stranger, but yoongi recognizes the boy. he takes an absent minded step back in surprise, but jungkook latches onto his hand so he can’t retreat further.
the boy’s familiar, familiar in ways he shouldn’t be. yoongi doesn’t know many people, hasn’t picked up faces to the point of recognition at all throughout his life, only really knows hoseok and the town elders.
but yoongi recognizes the stranger who opens the door.
it’s the boy jungkook had been chasing in his dream back with the camera and crashing waterfall.
it’s-
“oh, yoongi. you’re back.” the stranger says. he has black hair as well, and his knuckles are marked with stars and triangles.
“you know my name?” yoongi asks.
the stranger lets out a laugh that’s sweet. “everyone knows your name, you’re kinda a big deal here.”
“i’m really not.” yoongi says, eyeing the stranger.
“you were going to be a town elder.” he says in response. “but then you left. they moved me here yesterday. seokjin was quick to smooth over your disappearance, but he was worried. he needed you for the sacrifice yesterday, but everything worked out somehow. world moves fast, i guess.”
jungkook makes a noise behind yoongi.
“i’m jimin.” and he smiles this wide smile that melts yoongi’s wariness.
“we’re looking for a place to stay, just for a little bit.”
jimin backs away from the door in a welcoming manner, “you can stay here if you’d like. it is technically your old cottage.”
he lets yoongi pass him, but he stops jungkook.
“i don’t believe i’ve met you before.”
“i’m new.” jungkook says without hesitation. “my name is jungkook.”
“new?” jimin repeats skeptically.
jungkook doesn’t appear at all phased by this, stands in the archway of yoongi’s old cottage as if it’s not offsetting that he’s come to the village as a stranger in a world where strangers no longer exist.
there are no other civilizations on earth in the future, and jungkook’s presence counters the very foundation of the village.
“i’m not from around here.” jungkook says.
“welcome then.” jimin nods, trying to analyze the situation.
jimin sticks his hand out for jungkook to shake, and when jungkook grasps the other’s hand in his own, jimin pulls jungkook’s hand up to study it.
“you don’t have any tattoos.” he remarks.
jungkook visibly stiffens. “i’m not from around here.” he repeats.
“he’s with me. he’s just visiting.” yoongi speaks up to end the interrogation. it seems to be enough for jimin, and he lets jungkook in.
jungkook stares at the red stained walls when he walks into the cottage, tries to see through the air that’s heavy with incense smoke.
“my apologies.” jimin says, sitting down at the ceremonial table in the center room of the cottage. it’s a very traditional cottage, with high ceilings and wooden beams. “i’ve just never met someone without the tattoos.” he gestures to his own collection of black markings.
jungkook sits at the table too, crosses his legs under it. yoongi joins them.
there’s no logical reason for jungkook to not have the tattoos, at least none jimin would find logical, and so jungkook decides to tell him. he’s only just met the other, but he already trusts jimin. and it might be naivety for seeing him as the person he once was, or it might be his flowering belief that character can transcend lifetimes.
jimin’s always been a good person.
“i’m from the old world.”
yoongi’s eyes widen in surprise, but he doesn’t make a move to interject.
jimin turns this information around in his head for a few moments. “the old world, huh.” he bites a hangnail off of his index finger.
jungkook nods his head, eyes bright. his eyes are always bright.
“i should tell taehyung and invite him over. he has a lot of questions about the old world.”
☆
if the young god could ask the universe a question, he'd ask what its favorite color is.
☆
jimin leaves after that, says he’s going to taehyung’s and that it’ll only take a few minutes because he lives only five rows over.
yoongi scratches a line onto the table beneath him.
“we used to be good friends, hyung.” jungkook says.
“you and jimin?”
“all of us.”
☆
but does it matter what the universe's favorite color is? because the universe is every color regardless.
yes, the young god would argue. because small details like a person's favorite color could be the most important thing about them.
☆
when jimin comes back he’s not alone.
behind him are two other people. one of them has black hair that’s noticeably long in the back, and it takes a moment for yoongi to recognize the boy as one of the six from his dream at the waterfall.
taehyung, yoongi repeats to himself in his mind. the name sounds a bit foreign, but he remembers it.
jimin and taehyung are talking about something having to do with the streets being cleared, and yoongi almost doesn’t notice the other person following behind them.
it’s seokjin.
yoongi immediately looks away once he sees the town elder, doesn’t want to make eye contact, doesn’t want the other to see him and remember the sacrifice yoongi abandoned, doesn’t want seokjin to look at him like he’s let him down.
because that’s what yoongi did. he let seokjin and his people down. it may have been for good reason, but this fact doesn’t cease to be true.
yoongi wonders if he’s letting jungkook down, taking the young god to a civilization of old memories he can’t get back.
the younger hadn’t said much when they walked through the village. he had only followed yoongi quietly taking in the atmosphere, which really wasn’t much. there’s not much to yoongi’s village.
that’s what worries yoongi—the thought of letting the young boy, who’s ventured all the way to earth to save it, down. because maybe jungkook thought there’d be something more, something worth keeping alive, but there isn’t. there’s just cobblestone walkways and people who think it’s okay to pretend the world is okay.
yoongi isn’t given the chance to voice these thoughts, however.
he opens his mouth to say something, anything, but he swallows his words once he looks up to the newcomers.
he hadn’t noticed how quiet everyone had gotten, but once he does the silence becomes unsettling.
the silence feels like a vacuum, and when yoongi’s eyes land on seokjin he realizes why.
the town elder is intensely staring at jungkook. it’s not in a menacing way, not yet. it’s in a confused manner, like something in seokjin’s mind is connecting and he doesn’t know why.
jungkook doesn’t notice he’s the focus of attention. he’s tracing designs and figures into the table. he doesn’t see the way the elder stands with his eyes fixated on him.
“jungkook?” there’s a tremble in seokjin’s voice, but not one of excitement or relief. no. seokjin’s voice shakes as if he’s staring at something terrifying, at a nightmare, at a ghost.
jungkook looks up at his name being called. “hyung.” he says, and he must be blinded by the fact that seokjin knew his name because he stands up to approach the elder with a smile on his face.
and yoongi just knows.
something icy crawls its way up his spine, and suddenly the room feels like a space too hollow to be the cottage yoongi once grew up in.
all of the energy shifts to the two, and it’s bad.
yoongi knows it’s bad.
he sees it in the way seokjin’s stare hardens into something thunderously cold.
jungkook doesn’t see it though, and yoongi stands to stop the young god, but it’s too late. jungkook’s already reaching to wrap his arms around the town elder, and seokjin’s already lifting his arms in defense.
there is a moment between jungkook reaching up and seokjin lashing out.
it’s an eerily static moment.
like when the sun sets. like when the bright blue sky bleeds into red and purple colors, bleeds into something harsher. the change seems slow, almost unnoticeable, but then something breaks.
one second the sky’s an exhibition of color and light, and then the next second the sun’s erased left only as a memory. the next second the sky’s overwhelmingly dark.
seokjin hits him.
he suddenly strikes jungkook across the face.
and for some reason all yoongi can think about is how in the future the sky is grey. it doesn’t fade in and out of color schemes with correspondence to earth’s orbit around the sun. it’s grey.
jungkook staggers back a step, but he doesn’t counter the elder’s aggression, just stares at seokjin with scared eyes.
seokjin takes the opportunity to push jungkook hard.
hard enough to knock him to the ground in a mess of limbs.
jungkook lets out a shout of pain, but he doesn’t try to get back up.
yet yoongi’s mind is dazed. it’s the color of the world outside his cottage. it’s the color of x-rayed bones and windblown dandelions.
seokjin sends a brutal kick to jungkook’s abdomen, and jungkook just...takes it.
just stares at seokjin’s feet with wide eyes.
always wide.
yoongi used to wonder why jungkook always studied the world like that, why he’d look at the trees and clouds and people as if he didn’t want to miss a thing. yoongi used to think that jungkook was overexaggerating his love for earth, but he realizes that it must be true.
because yoongi can’t find any other reason to justify why jungkook’s only response to being shoved to the ground in submission is taking it.
anything’s better than taking it, accepting it, letting others beat you down.
but jungkook takes it, much like how the earth must take everything humanity gives it.
jungkook loves humanity, with all its good and all its bad, that’s the only reason yoongi can conjure why he doesn’t try to get back up, why the young god doesn’t fight back.
that’s the only reason yoongi can think of for why jungkook’s letting himself fade purple and blue on the ground of a village he built himself.
seokjin then grabs jungkook by the hair and drags him back up to his feet. “you need to go.”
“wait, but-” jungkook winces. “hyung-”
seokjin jerks the young god’s head roughly, and the younger doesn’t make any noise again after that, just stares at seokjin.
seokjin doesn’t stare back.
everything’s suffocatingly quiet in the cottage, in the street, in yoongi’s mind.
yoongi stands in delayed protest, his thoughts swarming and his body not moving fast enough, but seokin’s already dragging jungkook to the door by the arm.
jungkook lets out a protest muffled as a whine.
and the sky is still grey.
☆
maybe the universe will be grey too,
after all of this.
maybe that’s the fate of the cosmos.
but the universe is not the earth.
and the earth is not the universe.
☆
that’s how it goes.
that’s how the town elder makes a martyr of the young god.
he drags jungkook through the village, calling the people to the streets to watch.
and they do.
the people gather at the noise and commotion. the people watch the boy be dragged through the mud and dirt. they watch his skin stain red and blue.
beaten and battered, jungkook doesn’t say a word, doesn’t protest, doesn’t lift his head, doesn’t try to keep up.
yoongi’s running after him, but he’s obstructed by the people.
there are too many people.
all of a sudden, in the village that’s always felt unbelievably small, there are too many people.
yoongi presses himself between bodies with mumbled apologies and unfocused eyes.
he can see the young god, who’s only several meters away, but he’s not close enough.
he’s too far away.
something wet hits the bridge of his nose, and yoongi looks up. he looks to the sky and then back to jungkook.
jungkook’s eyes are red rimmed, and yoongi suddenly finds it nearly impossible to keep breathing, to keep pushing forward through the crowd, to keep himself standing upright.
because the sky is grey and it’s raining and tears fall from jungkook’s closed eyes.
the synchronization of the universe is achingly clear.
how can’t they see it, yoongi thinks. isn’t it obvious?
seokjin holds up jungkook’s tattooless hand.
the people gasp in shock and turn to each other.
and that’s something strange about humanity. they always turn to each other, but they never turn to the world or the universe or the young boy who’s laid out blue and bleeding on the cobblestone.
jungkook doesn’t have any tattoos.
he’s clean of black lines and black circles and black stars.
his skin is unmarked, uncorrupted, unpolluted.
he’s clean.
☆
lips don’t turn red after death.
eyes don’t turn blue.
hair doesn’t turn gold.
fingernails don’t turn pink.
a human body doesn’t turn brilliant shades of color after death.
it turns grey.
☆
“he cannot stay here.” seokjin’s voice booms. “and he will not stay here.”
yoongi’s on the edge of the crowd, he takes a step toward the town elder, but someone catches his arm.
when he looks back to see who it is, he’s met with the sight of hoseok staring imploringly at him.
“if you go up there he’ll tear you to pieces.”
“i can’t stand here and watch.”
hoseok’s grip tightens. “no, yoongi. you can’t go up there. seokjin will condemn you for association with whoever that person is.”
“jungkook.”
“what?”
“his name’s jungkook.”
☆
maybe, in the very back of hoseok’s mind, maybe he remembers that name.
somewhere hidden beneath the layers of memory and lifetimes, maybe that name means something to him.
because it used to.
it used to mean something to a lot of people.
☆
yoongi steps forward despite hoseok’s protest. he calmly approaches seokjin and turns to the village people with a neutral expression despite the inner turmoil roaring inside of him.
“before making a decision on what to do with him.” yoongi glances at seokjin. “we should put him on trial.”
seokjin doesn’t immediately shoot the proposal down. “why don’t we just deal with him now?” he questions.
time, yoongi thinks to himself. he just needs some more time.
he just needs a chance to find a way to get jungkook out of here, to find a way to get jungkook as far away as possible.
yoongi remembers all of his studies growing up, tries to recall something believable, something seokjin would deem reasonable.
“in societies,” yoongi begins, “when there was an issue regarding a person, they would be put on trial to ensure that both sides had the opportunity to justify itself before conviction.”
seokjin stares at yoongi skeptically for a long moment, but then his lip quirks up. “i personally would rather deal with him now, but you are inheriting my town elder position soon, min yoongi.” seokjin turns to the crowd of people. “a trial will be conducted tomorrow morning.”
the people rise up with a cheer, but they don’t understand what they’re applauding.
they just see a boy bloodied and beaten and a smile on an authoritative figure’s face.
they don’t know why they’re cheering.
it could be for any reason really.
maybe it’s something selfish, maybe they’re applauding because it’s not them. or maybe it’s something else, maybe they’re applauding because they’re terrified, terrified because it very well could be.
☆
how do you fight for justice when the people don’t believe in morals?
how do you fight for justice when the universe doesn’t care?
☆
once seokjin makes the decision for jungkook to be put on trial, the young god’s taken to a cellar and chained to a window.
the village doesn’t have a prison. there’s no need for one when only one hundred people are left on earth. jungkook didn’t make a prison when he built yoongi’s village. it’s a village of all of his favorite people, why would he have to lock them up?
yoongi finds him in the cellar with his head resting on his arms looking out the window.
“i’m sorry.” is the first thing that instinctively leaves yoongi’s mouth.
“hyung.” jungkook breathes out.
“i’m going to get you out of here.”
jungkook turns his head from the window to look at yoongi. “no, hyung-”
“i can get you out of here.” yoongi interrupts.
jungkook chews on the inner part of his lip and looks back up to the sky through the window. “but then what? what will happen after that?”
yoongi doesn’t have a response. he takes a few steps closer to the young god until they’re side by side staring up at the sky.
jungkook doesn’t look at yoongi, keeps his eyes trained on the black abyss above them.
“remember the stars, hyung?”
yoongi swallows. he thinks back to seoul and the stars forged from ash.
“humanity has come so far.” jungkook’s voice is soft in the small cement cellar. “they’ve been around for so long. to let them be erased, to let them just die off, i couldn’t do it.”
yoongi hums, rests his hands on the windowsill and his chin on his hands.
“humanity has come so far.” jungkook repeats. “they’ve created worlds within worlds and inventions to make themselves happier. they’ve cultivated seemingly impossible concepts and ideas. they flew to the stars, hyung. they built winged aircrafts and closed distances and brought the people closer to the people.”
yoongi can’t imagine it. flying to the stars? it sounds like a dream more than anything. but jungkook’s telling him that it’s true, that it was once reality. jungkook’s saying these things with stars in his eyes, and yoongi thinks that maybe it isn’t too far fetched.
“but ideas have to come at the right time. ideas can’t be forced. they have to be presented at the right time, in the right place, with the right people.” jungkook turns to face yoongi. “remember the stars, hyung? remember the sky?”
yoongi carefully nods his head.
jungkook smiles, but it’s subdued. it’s held back by a certain sadness weighed down by thousands of years and hundreds of lifetimes. “did you know that the people used to believe the earth was the center of the universe? they thought the sun and all great stars orbited the earth.”
yoongi stares up at the young god, heart aching for a time he can’t remember, a world he can’t remember, a person he can’t remember.
“there were people who didn’t believe it, they proposed that it was the other way around countless times, that the earth orbited the sun. but such ideas were denounced for being ungodly and the people were punished for being heretics. they would be condemned to death and burned at the stake. all for an idea. an idea that was true but simply presented at the wrong time.”
the two stare at each other, shadows cast over their faces.
“i don’t hate seokjin for what he’s doing to me.” jungkook’s words are clipped.
yoongi doesn’t protest. he feels an urge to, but he doesn’t.
“he’s just scared.” jungkook says. “they’ve locked me up and put me in metal chains, but i’m not the one suffering because of it.”
and jungkook sounds so convinced of his words, as if he believes them himself, to the point that yoongi’s almost convinced too.
“giordano bruno was burned at the stake for his belief that the earth wasn’t the center of the universe, and it took centuries after his death for the idea to be accepted. the people thought the universe was built for humanity, and the idea that they were not the center of it all horrified them. because if everything wasn’t built for them, what was it built for?”
and oddly enough, yoongi thinks he understands what jungkook’s saying. he can see why the people were so afraid.
“giordano bruno had a famous quote before he died. he had stared at the judges and witnesses and everyone watching him be put to death, and he said something that stayed with the people centuries after.”
“what did he say?” yoongi asks.
☆
“perhaps you who condemn me are in greater fear than i who am condemned.”
— giordano bruno's famous response to judges prior to transfer for execution (february 17 year 1600)
☆
yoongi holds jungkook’s chained hand in his own. it isn’t bruised or bloodied anymore. the young god is healed from the injuries.
“i did this to myself.” jungkook mutters. “i gave the town elders the gift of memory, hyung. i made it so that they’d dream memories from the old world. i thought it’d help them answer any unanswerable questions concerning how their civilization was created. but the town elders have only every disregarded it, and that’s why seokjin’s scared. he recognizes me, but he doesn’t know why.”
yoongi finds it cruel—the way intentions can’t transcend into reality.
the stars are gone in the future, there are no traces left of them in earth’s sky, but they are still there. they are not something tangible to humanity. they are not something the people can see or touch, but that doesn’t stop them from being something the people can believe in.
yoongi thinks intentions must be something like the stars. another’s intentions aren’t something he can truly know or understand, but they’re something he can believe in. reality may not reflect them, but yoongi can still believe that the people choose to do the things they do for the right reasons despite how distorted the reality of them may become.
jungkook’s still staring at him with his smile that’s too melancholic to be a smile.
the young god smiles like he’s been defeated and is waiting for the end to arrive.
yoongi doesn’t know how to change it, how to make it better.
he wishes it didn’t take action to get intention across. he wishes he could crack his skull open so jungkook could see everything that’s inside. he wishes he could dig his heart out from between his ribs so the other could see that yoongi would do anything for the young god to not be so sad.
he can’t though.
yet jungkook stares at him anyway, stares at him like he misses him, like he misses yoongi as if yoongi isn’t right there.
“everyday i have feared that i’m not strong enough to hold up this planet. i was never as strong as my mother.” jungkook says.
“i disagree.” and yoongi may not be able to tell the young god all that he wants, words come hard to yoongi in the future, but he can try. “creating something, birthing something, is hard, but saving something that’s dying, saving something that’s already dead, is far more difficult.”
“speaking from experience, hyung?” jungkook’s voice is something thin, something too close to giving up.
“it’s just an observation.”
the two look back up to the sky through the window of the cellar.
the stars aren’t visible to the earth anymore.
the only thing still shining in the sky is the moon.
it shines as a reminder.
a reminder that there is still light out there even when the sun’s disappeared and the stars are erased and the sky’s painted grey.
☆
the moon collided with earth by accident once, did you know?
and now it orbits the little blue planet endlessly.
once upon a time the moon had been a lonely asteroid freely navigating the universe, and then one day it struck a planet and decided to never leave.
the planet was never the same.
and the moon was never the same either.
it wasn’t lonely anymore.
it wasn’t lonely.
☆
the next morning a person named namjoon runs jungkook’s trial.
it isn’t much of a trial, just a podium standing before rows of people at the great hearth.
there’s never been a trial in yoongi’s village. there’s never been a need.
“name.” namjoon says.
“jeon jungkook.”
“the town elders and i have discussed what we think ought be done, but as min yoongi stated yesterday, both sides should be heard.”
jungkook nods his head with a bow.
“why don’t you have the village’s tattoos?”
“i’m not from around here.”
“where are you from?”
“the heavens.”
seokjin scoffs.
“why are you here?”
it’s more an interrogation than a trial, yoongi thinks to himself.
“i’m here to heal the earth.” jungkook says.
“why would the earth need to be healed?”
jungkook lets out a dry laugh. “the earth collapsed, namjoon hyung.”
namjoon’s eyes widen at the name. “how do you know my name?”
“i know all of you.”
the people all turn to each other in confusion. yoongi keeps his eyes on jungkook.
“how is that possible?” namjoon asks.
“i’m a god from the heavens. i inherited the role as earth’s keeper after its first collapse.”
“how can you be a god?” seokjin interrupts. “you were bleeding yesterday. gods can’t bleed.” seokjin’s voice comes out steady, but there’s fear in the way he avoids eye contact with the younger.
“things have changed.” jungkook replies calmly.
“how?” namjoon asks.
jungkook finds himself at a loss for words. “i don’t…” he trails off. “i don’t know.”
it’s enough of an answer for seokjin, and yoongi realizes that this isn't a trial at all. seokjin's already made up his mind. “he’s a fraud. this is a crime.”
it isn’t, yoongi thinks to himself. there have never been crimes in his village. there have never been rules or morals or justice.
“he should be condemned to death for the imitation of a false god.” seokjin announces.
yoongi stands from his seat in the first row. “there’s no reason to execute him. this village has never done that-”
seokjin interrupts him. “i just remembered something.” his voice has a challenging tone, daring yoongi to speak against him. “tomorrow there is a boy turning twenty years of age.”
yoongi’s heart sinks.
“what does that mean for us, yoongi?”
yoongi knows what seokjin wants him to say, but he immediately looks down and shakes his head. he feels his heart elapse and his blood run a thousand colors.
and for once yoongi wants to be grey, wants to be the color of the sky he’s always resented.
because he would rather be the color of carelessness, apathy, indifference.
everything else is too much, any other color is too overwhelming, and maybe, yoongi thinks to himself, maybe he does understand why the people let the world end, why they let the sky turn grey.
it was easier.
“yoongi.” seokjin's voice is stern. “what do we need?”
yoongi replies through grit teeth. “a human sacrifice.”
he bows his head, but it’s not in compliance.
it’s not grey.
it’s not the color of the sky or the color of skin once it dies.
it’s red and blue and violet.
it’s every color the world should be.
☆
if you could save the world, would you?
the innocent question has haunted the young god for his entire life.
because he could save the world, that’s the thing.
he could save it, and he did.
healing the trees.
breathing life back into the people.
saving the world.
trying to make it better.
is it really such a crime?
☆
that night when yoongi goes to see jungkook in the cellar, the young god stops him before he enters.
“i need you to do something for me, hyung.”
“anything.”
“i need you to get me a knife.” jungkook reaches out to hold yoongi’s hands in his own.
it's all very quiet.
it feels as if yoongi could blink and he'd wake up from whatever dream he's in.
but this isn't a dream.
it's real.
it's the future, and it's real.
“promise me something.” yoongi’s voice trembles. “promise me you’re going to stay here if i do.”
he doesn’t know what jungkook’s planning to do with the knife, but he can guess. he remembers what jungkook said back when they were in seoul and the sky was a canvas of color. jungkook had said when his mother was sick he jumped off a building to return to the heavens.
“promise me when i get back, you’ll stay with me, and we’ll run away from here together.”
jungkook doesn’t reply. he doesn’t promise yoongi anything.
the young god simply tilts yoongi’s chin up and kisses him the way he used to kiss him in the old world. he kisses yoongi like they’ve kissed each other a million times. he kisses yoongi like they both remember how it used to be. he kisses yoongi like they have all of the time in the world.
☆
don’t you know the story of the earth and those trying to save it?
☆
when yoongi gets back, jungkook’s waiting for him.
he takes yoongi’s hand and leads him to the center of the dark room.
“thank you, yoongi hyung.” he says.
he reaches down for the knife.
“this is going to be messy, but it'll be alright.”
“what are you going to do?” yoongi asks. it's quiet, and he dreads the younger's answer.
“it’s…” jungkook looks away. “it’s going to be bloody, but i’m going to be okay.”
“i don’t-”
“i’m going to be okay, hyung. you have to believe me.”
“how can i?”
“leap of faith, hyung. it’s a leap of faith.”
“what are you going to do?” yoongi repeats.
“there’s a ritual that will return me to the heavens without having to die.”
“why can’t you stay here?” yoongi asks, holding onto the younger’s hand tight. “if we run away now, they won’t come after us.”
“i can’t stay here any longer.” jungkook replies.
“i can go with you.”
“you have to stay here.”
and it’s just not fair.
“you have to stay here, hyung. we’ll meet again. i’ll be there at the end, but you have to stay here. on earth.”
“why?”
“just live and be decent. promise me, hyung. promise me you’ll live.”
and yoongi breaks a little, right there. he lets out a breath of air and then, for a moment, wonders if he’ll be able to let the oxygen back in.
because living isn’t something he’s sure he can do when the world is grey. he had tried to avoid thinking about it, had tried to listen to jungkook, but the reality of it all becomes unavoidable.
he had only known grey for his whole life, but then he met jungkook again, and the sky turned pink and orange, and he doesn’t know if he can go back.
but jungkook’s asking him to, and yoongi’s not sure if there’s anything in the universe he’d deny the younger.
“okay.” he lets out, and it’s a little quiet, a little small, a little subdued. it’s spoken as if the color is already fading from yoongi’s world.
jungkook smiles at him, and it’s the same smile he always smiles.
“thank you, hyung.”
with that, the young god presses the knife to the palm of his hand and drags it over his skin, bones, veins.
it's horrific, but yoongi can't bring himself to look away.
he refuses to miss a single moment.
yoongi watches the knife peel jungkook's skin back.
and the younger was right. there's a lot of blood.
it beings to pool beneath him.
it seems like too much, and yoongi wonders if jungkook had lied to him about not having to die to return to the heavens. but jungkook’s still breathing, and his eyes are still wide as he stares at the cuts.
he looks up at yoongi again, and there are tears in his eyes. “thank you.”
he repeats the phrase a few more times to yoongi in the dark shadows of the cellar.
and it's just not fair.
jungkook then lies back and whispers something to the sky.
in an eruption of blue and gold, flowers begin to bloom through the red slashes covering jungkook’s skin.
yellow sunflowers, purple dahlias, white dandelions consume the young god’s body.
in a gruesome display of blood, jungkook seems to dissolve in the blossoms until nothing’s left of him.
yoongi stares at the countless flowers left behind.
they almost seem peaceful, swirling around in the red color.
jungkook’s gone, body vanished in the flowers, soul lost in the blood, mind faded back into the clouds, heart returned to the earth.
yoongi tells himself he’s in a better place, tells himself to trust the young god, tells himself not to try and follow.
the knife is still laid gently on the ground.
yoongi stares at it, but then he looks back to the flowers.
he refrains from considering it a beautiful sight because his understanding of the word has always fallen short.
he came close to understanding though.
min yoongi doesn’t know beauty, but he could’ve.
he almost did.
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imagine.
there is a boy, hundreds of years into the future, and he’s fallen to his knees in a pool of blood.
imagine. really picture it inside your mind.
it isn’t that hard, is it?