Chapter Text
‘On a Rainy Night in April’
Part I
Jimin
Jimin shuffled through the April rain as it pelted down, running down the sidewalks and pooling in the streets. His old, worn-out sneakers were soaking-wet, his dirty socks squelching with each step. He clutched his arms around his chest, his ash-colored sweater so darkened by the rain that it seemed almost charcoal-gray. His jeans, once spotless and whole, were now ripped through the knees and splattered with not only rainwater, but also mud.
He didn’t know where he was going. He had no destination. But he couldn’t stay in one place and risk being found. The Catchers would find him instantly if he stopped moving. As long as he looked like he was on his way somewhere, he was fine.
He flinched at a rumble of thunder in the distance, but didn’t stop walking. He saw a pair of headlights approaching, seeming brighter reflecting through the raindrops. Jimin’s eyes followed the lights as they approached and then passed, his eyes gleaming yellowy green for a moment before returning to normal. The world seemed slow, quiet…empty. Even the presence of people hunched over as they tried to avoid the rain whilst dashing between buildings and cars didn’t seem quite real.
A warm light flickered on to his left, and he instinctually looked up at the window of a street-side apartment. He couldn’t quite see into the building, but he could see the top of someone’s mousy brown-haired head moving around the room. He didn’t realize he’d stopped walking until the person suddenly came into view of the window, and happened to look out. Their eyes met.
Usually, Jimin would look away instantly. He would duck his head, or turn away. But his reactions were slow right now, and he stared back at the human for what felt like an eternity. The human didn’t look shocked or surprised to see Jimin. He also didn’t seem bothered to see him outside his apartment, but he didn’t smile in acknowledgement. He just stared back, face free of any expression.
Eventually, though, Jimin felt the pull of his instincts, and he looked away. He saw, out of the corner of his eye, the human raise a spoon to his mouth as he ate his supper.
Food. Jimin let one of his hands slide down to press against his stomach. He hadn’t eaten in three days. It was getting harder and harder to find places where he could successfully steal edible food. He wasn’t above searching the trash, but…he also was smarter than that. He knew he could get sick from eating food gone bad. It was better to suffer an empty stomach than to be vomiting and feverish with no hope of seeing a doctor.
He had resumed shuffling along, but stopped without realizing again. He looked back up at the apartment, at a different window. The room was only partially lit, either by a light far in the back, or through an open door leading to another room. Jimin blinked when he saw movement. The human had moved to this room, now. Jimin could see him moving toward the window, when another two pairs of headlights crested the hill. He automatically turned toward them, eyes flashing again, but ducked his head slightly as they neared. The current from their passing ruffled his hair, revealing his folded ears. He tensed, trying to flatten them before anyone could see.
He jumped and immediately cowered with a small cry, hands over his head, when he heard a door slam quite loudly nearby. He had no energy to run; all he could do was hide. But even that was difficult. He couldn’t get his mind to think quickly enough.
“Hey! Hey, do you need help?”
He peeked through the protective cage of his arms. It was the human from the apartment. He was standing on the front stoop of his building, just out of the rain, but holding an umbrella as if he was about to open it.
“No,” Jimin whispered, even as his eyes said, ‘Yes, please; help me.’
Somehow the human heard his eyes’ plea and not his voice. He popped open the umbrella with one click of a button, and dashed down the steps. The sudden absence of rain pelting down on his back was shocking. Jimin gasped and shuddered, and lifted one clammy hand up toward the human’s knee. It was intercepted by a dry, warm hand that completely encased it and tugged him up to his feet.
“Come on; at least come inside to wait out the rain and dry off a little. I promise I won’t hurt you. I’m not like those Catchers.”
The old Jimin never would have agreed. The old Jimin never would have sacrificed his pride like this. The old Jimin never would have followed a strange human into their home.
But the old Jimin was long gone. And the current Jimin not only let his hand be pulled along, but also curled his fingers around the man’s thumb and squeezed slightly.
“Do you…have food?” he asked softly, hesitantly. He kept his ears as flat and submissive as possible. He didn’t want to anger the human if he was going to get out of the cold, wet rain and into the warm, dry building.
The human didn’t stop leading him up the steps, but did glance at him with a small smile. “Of course. Are you hungry? I’ve got food you’re welcome to have.”
The human helped pry off Jimin’s shoes and socks, telling him to wait just a moment while he disappeared down the hallway. He reappeared a minute later with a couple of towels. One he set on the ground and indicated that Jimin was supposed to step onto. When he did so, the human folded the slightly rough but warm towel over his damp feet, pressing gently to absorb some of the water. Then he straightened up and handed the other towel—this one much, much softer—to Jimin.
“For your hair,” he explained. “But come on, let me get you some dry clothes.”
Jimin lifted the towel to drape over his head, pressing and scrunching it against his hair, rubbing it roughly against his ears. He pulled the towel around his shoulders like a blanket, sniffing slightly as he followed the human down the hallway. The floorboards were smooth, and surprisingly not cold. The entire apartment was warm; the perfect temperature to make Jimin want to curl up in a ball and sleep.
But right now he was still soaking wet. He could hear the drip-drip of water on the floor as it drained from his clothing. He felt bad enough that he stopped walking, looking back at the trail of water he was leaving. The human noticed, but just waved his hand dismissively.
“Don’t worry about it; I’ll clean it up later. It’s only water.”
He led Jimin into a bathroom, where he left him for a short while to go get the clothes he’d promised. While he waited, Jimin stared at his reflection in the mirror. He let the towel slip down to his shoulders. He fluffed up his hair a little and petted at his black ears to smooth out the fur that had been disheveled by the towel. He hated the ‘wet cat’ look. Humans always looked beautiful when they were wet; why did cats have to look so ugly when they were drenched?
“Here you go.” The human was back, this time holding out a bundle of cozy-looking material. Jimin let his eyes flicker between the clothing and the face of the human offering it.
“Are…you sure?” he asked. It was dangerous to accept clothing from a human you didn’t belong to.
“I—” the human seemed puzzled. “Yeah, I mean, unless you want to walk around in wet clothes. I was thinking we could toss those in the dryer while you ate something.”
Jimin nodded, and took the bundle. His fingers brushed against the human’s wrist briefly, and he tensed. He shouldn’t touch a human without permission. He just knew this man was going to toss him out.
But he didn’t. In fact, he didn’t even seem to have noticed.
“Anyway, I’ll let you change. I’ll be in the room down the hall, to your right. You can go there once you’ve changed. I’m going to heat up something for you to eat.”
Jimin nodded again. He waited until the bathroom door had closed before setting the bundle carefully on the counter and beginning to peel off his wet clothes. He dried himself off more with the towel and took advantage of the toilet and the hand soap—he liked to be clean, after all—before beginning to dress himself.
He’d been given a pair of soft sweatpants which seemed to fit him nicely, although they didn’t have a place for his tail to go (as was often the case with human clothing), but that wasn’t really a problem; he just curled the fluffy appendage down under himself as he usually did when he wanted to hide it. He’d been doing the same with the jeans he’d been wearing before. The end of his tail rested protectively against his lower abdomen, twitching a little as it had a tendency to do when he was curious about things, or nervous. The movement calmed him, and he reached for the long-sleeved white shirt. He shook out the article of cotton clothing to figure out which side was front and back, and then pulled it over his head. The sleeves were long; so long that they completely covered his hands.
He smiled without realizing, curling his hands into little fists and opening them up again. Flexing his claws, so to speak. He’d long ago lost his claws. Now all he had was his soft ‘human’ fingernails. It had been an excruciating process as a young kitten, having his outer claws removed from over his inner nails. He’d screamed so much that he’d lost his voice for a week, and wouldn’t let anyone touch him for a month without snapping at them. He had curled himself into as tight of a ball as he could, hiding in corners and behind furniture until he was dragged out to be fed.
But that was many years ago, now. His fingernails had hardened, and he had adjusted to the absence of his precious claws. He still missed them time to time, though.
Jimin’s stomach whined, and he grimaced. Food. The human had promised him food. He dropped his wet clothing into the sink, unsure what else to do with it, and then left the bathroom.
He immediately smelled meat. Heavenly, roasted meat. His footsteps were quiet, but quick. His mouth was salivating by the time he arrived in the dining room where the human was waiting.
“Food?” he asked shyly. “I smell meat. It smells good.”
“Yes, I made some stew. Roast beef, with carrots, potatoes, peas, onions, and the like. There’s also dumplings if you want, but I don’t know…if that’s okay for you to eat.”
Jimin didn’t answer, just sat himself down at the table, where a bowl lay filled to the brim with the delicious-smelling stew. He picked up the spoon, started to aim it toward the bowl, and then stopped. He looked up at the human.
“Are you sure?”
There was that smile again. “Yes; yes, I’m sure. Go ahead. Have as much as you want. I have plenty.”
The first bite nearly made Jimin cry. The meat was tender, falling apart on his tongue without so much as a touch of his teeth. The carrots practically melted in his mouth, little bursts of sweetness. He wasn’t a huge fan of peas, but his body knew he needed the nutrients. And he scrunched his nose at the pasty feel of the potatoes. Delicious, but…he licked at the roof of his mouth several times before finally taking another chunk of beef to clear the feeling away.
“I’m Yoongi,” the human said suddenly. Jimin looked up with wide eyes, only to catch a warm expression on the human’s face. He’d been silently watching Jimin eat the entire time.
Jimin choked down a swallow. He knew what he was supposed to do.
“I’m Jimin.”
“Jimin. I’ll be right back. I’m going to put your clothes into the dryer, okay? Or would you like me to wash them, too?”
Oh. Clean clothes. Jimin liked clean clothes. But it was too much to ask. He couldn’t ask a strange human to do that. This human wasn’t his.
“I…”
The human—Yoongi’s eyes crinkled. “Look, don’t worry about it, okay? If you don’t mind waiting a little longer, I’ll just have them washed and cleaned for you. I’ll be right back,” he said for the second time. Except this time, he did leave the room.
Jimin returned his attention to his delicious meal. His tail was positively quivering in happiness as he chewed slowly, savoring every bite. Who knew when he would have another meal, after all. He reached out and scooped one of the fluffy dumplings from the pot of stew to try. They looked tasty. And they were. One of the peas had gotten stuck to the one he picked, and he was surprised at the sharp but sweet taste it added to the soft dumpling.
Yoongi walked back into the room, and leaned against a chair as he looked down at Jimin. “Would you like something to drink? Water? Tea? Milk?”
He couldn’t help the way his ears perked up at the last suggestion. “Milk? You have—can I—is it okay?”
“Of course.”
It took longer than he expected for the milk to be presented to him, and when it finally was, he stared at it, confused. It was in a lovely, sand-colored clay mug, but it was steaming. Jimin leaned forward, sniffing it slightly. It didn’t smell bad. It smelled sweet, almost. Warm, and sweet.
“I heated it up for you. I hope that’s okay? I always like having warm milk on cold, rainy nights like tonight. But I can get you some cold milk if you prefer.”
Jimin didn’t want to offend the human, so he carefully picked up the wide-lipped mug between both of his hands, sighing at the way the heat seeped into his paws—fingers. Into his fingers, he corrected himself. Paws were what the bad humans called his hands when they wanted to mock and degrade him. He didn’t have ‘dirty, grimy paws.’ He had small, slender hands, and he did his best to keep them clean and beautiful.
He lifted the mug to his lips, and took a cautious sip. Ohh. He gasped a little and took a longer sip, this time letting the warm liquid swirl around his tongue, tasting every bit of it he could before swallowing slowly. Oh. It was good. It was sweet, but he didn’t think that the hu—Yoongi had added any sugar or honey to it. The heat must have made the milk’s natural sweetness stronger.
He didn’t realize he had begun to smile widely as he sipped at the drink, shoulders giddily drawn up close to the sides of his head by his ‘human’ ears, squirming a little in his seat as he enjoyed every mouthful.
He was startled by the sound of a chuckle to his side. “You’re such a sweet thing, aren’t you, Jimin. What were you doing out there all alone, anyway?” Yoongi frowned and peered around at Jimin’s back in concern. “And where’s your tail? Please don’t tell me you lost it; I can’t even imagine how horrible—”
“It’s right here,” Jimin interrupted, before tensing a little and flushing; he shouldn’t have interrupted. But again, Yoongi didn’t seem to have noticed.
“Where?”
“Right…right here,” Jimin patted at his belly, just below the waistband of the sweat pants.
“Huh?” The human looked very confused, so Jimin shifted in the chair so he could slip his tail out from between his legs and wiggle it just enough over his hipbone so that Yoongi could see it beneath the pants.
“Oh. Is…I’m sorry, are those pants uncomfortable? I don’t have anything for…you.” He trailed off hesitantly, like he didn’t want to call Jimin what he was. A hybrid, a half human, half animal. A disgrace to humanity. An abomination.
“No, they’re fine. Thank you.”
Yoongi nodded and pulled out the chair by his own bowl of partially eaten stew. They ate in comfortable silence for a while, listening to the rain pound against the window.
Jimin felt himself getting full before he had even finished the bowl. He slowed down, staring at the few pieces of meat and vegetables remaining. He couldn’t fit them. His stomach must have shrunk. He didn’t want to be rude, though. He hesitated before gingerly scooping up another chunk of beef.
“You don’t have to force yourself to finish it,” Yoongi spoke up. “I just wasn’t sure how hungry you were.”
Jimin nodded and set the spoon down, but picked up the still warm mug of milk. He had a few sips left, and he could surely manage that. Milk was too precious to waste. He closed his eyes as he swallowed the last of the sweet liquid, and then carefully set the mug back down on the table. He drew his hands into his lap, hiding them in the sleeves.
“Thank you,” he said quietly, head bowed.
“You’re welcome,” Yoongi acknowledged, also finishing up his own meal. Jimin watched as he stood up and picked up both his dish and Jimin’s at the same time, carrying them over to the sink.
“Do you…I can wash the dishes?” Jimin offered. Yoongi turned to him, looking surprised.
“What? No, of course not, Jimin. Don’t worry about it. You’re a guest. You can go into the living room and just chill on the sofa. I was going to watch TV or a movie in a bit. Feel free to use any of the blankets in there if you’re cold.”
Feeling self-conscious, Jimin pushed back his chair and stood up. He wandered through the other door Yoongi had indicated, and into a small living room. There was a large bookshelf on one wall, filled to the brim with books and papers, and a desk on another wall with a computer and more papers. He went over to the sofa and sat down on the far corner, curling his legs up under himself. He glanced at one of the blankets folded along the back of the sofa a few times before hesitantly reaching out to tug it down. The soft, woolen material spilled down onto his lap, instantly warming him up. He took the edges and lifted it, wrapping it around his shoulders and entire body. Oh. It was nice. And it smelled good. He brought it up to his face, sniffing slightly without actually touching the material to his nose. His eyes fluttered shut. Safe. It smelled like safety, and love.
He readjusted his position on the sofa a little bit, wrapping the blanket more thoroughly around himself, and let his tail slip out from between his legs again, swishing against one leg inside the sweatpants. He felt so very sleepy. It must have been the milk’s fault.
Jimin was beginning to doze off when Yoongi entered the living room, carrying two steaming mugs. Jimin opened one eye and then the other, stretching slightly and forcing himself to straighten up.
“Oh, you can stay like that. I just made us some tea. I checked to make sure you can have this kind. I know there are certain teas that aren’t good for you.”
Jimin wondered if the human was purposely avoiding saying “your kind” or “hybrids,” or if he truly didn’t think of him that way. But it was true. There were certain herbs and foods that made cats like him sick. Not to the extent of a full-blood, but he could suffer minor complications and discomfort. The tea smelled like chamomile. Safe.
Yoongi set one mug down on the tiny coffee table, and then settled down onto the other side of the sofa. He reached over the armrest to pick up the TV remote.
The human kept the volume down as he first watched the news, then scrolled through movie choices and picked something to watch. Jimin sipped a little at his tea, but he was really too sleepy by this point to properly drink it. He snuggled down into the corner of the sofa, curling up into a tight ball with the blanket covering nearly his entire body, and soon drifted off to the most pleasant sleep he’d had in a while.
.
.
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