Chapter Text
jungkook watches the boy grow up in the house at the edge of his forest.
. . .
the family moves in during summer, just a man and a woman, young and happy. jungkook feels nervous as they drive down the road in their little blue car, because humans. a collective hush falls over all the forest creatures as the vehicle makes its way down the dirt road. jungkook hopes that the humans aren't as unclean and dangerous as the car feels, but soon he finds they are kind to the earth, and the woman sings lovely songs as she and the man tend to their garden. once it seems that they will not be a danger to the forest, the birds titter nonstop about them, and the raccoons are intensely curious. weeks later, when the humans put bird feeders up, there’s another wave of excitement among the feathered friends, as well as the squirrels.
under the balmy sun of june, jungkook watches them move boxes into the previously long-unoccupied house, observes as the jarring sound of hammering rings through the trees as the couple repair the decaying structure. the deer are skittish for a while, running to jungkook when the humans do something new or strange, but eventually they become accustomed to the humans’ presence as well, unafraid to enter the clearing in which the house sits and surreptitiously eat the all newly planted vegetables. the humans put up a wire fence after the incident.
jin, the local deity, had told jungkook about humans before. about how they built the deity a shrine and how he exists through their belief and their worship. ‘silly creatures’ jin says of them, but jungkook can see that jin is fond of humans, the different ways they live, how they laugh and love and despair, able to run through all seasons of emotion in a span of an hour. apparently, under their skin they have something called blood like all animals do, which is red and smells like iron. red, such a bold color.
like the red maples, the tsubaki flowers, the coral berries that stand out harshly against the whites and pale blues of winter.
‘they have something called a heart,’ jin had said with a funny look in his eyes, gazing out into the forest, past the thickets of heather with their cream-colored flowers. ‘like the forest creatures, except theirs seem to do work beyond sending blood through their bodies.’
‘what other things do their hearts do?' jungkook had asked.
jin hadn’t responded properly, just said ‘you’ll see, one day,’ which made jungkook feel awfully ignorant and young. and jin had drifted away after petting jungkook gently between his little antlers, probably to go chat with namjoon as he does daily. the silken red of his robes shimmered in dappled sun as he disappeared into the trees, the color of blood that never dries.
. . .
so jungkook observes the humans, wondering what jin knows about them that he has yet to learn. gradually, the humans’ presence settles into jungkook’s awareness, no longer seeming foreign. in the same way he can sense the flowers, the trees, the deer, it seems that jungkook can feel the humans as part of his forest. he thinks, perhaps, that he can even sense their joy, especially when they lie close to the earth, in each other’s arms. at the very least, he can feel their spirits, their life. curiously, the woman’s presence burns stronger in jungkook’s consciousness than the man's and he wonders why. he supposes he’ll wait and see, the answer will reveal itself eventually. meanwhile, he watches the flowers bloom and runs with the little fawns.
. . .
like this, summer passes and autumn arrives, bringing with it the fiery colors of dying leaves.
jungkook meets taehyung then, just passing through the area as all wind spirits do. except jungkook doesn’t think he’s met even a wind spirit as whimsical as taehyung. in beautiful, multi-colored swirls of leaves, taehyung spins winds around and around him, causing a powerful rustling to sound through the forest, the song to his dance. it sends the squirrels running for their dens but jungkook laughs and spins with him. when taehyung dissolves his physical form for a moment to release a gust so powerful it knocks jungkook into a pile of fallen leaves, jungkook ends up on his back, laughter reaching for the blue autumn sky, so many leaves in his hair.
“again,” jungkook says, breathless. “do you think you could lift me, do you think you could make me fly?”
taehyung materializes next to jungkook, gray eyes glittering. his soft blue clothes are accented with white patterns, and his sleeves and pant legs seem to move gently with lives of their own, as if the air can’t stay still near taehyung’s skin. his wild, silver hair does the same.
“you’re fun,” taehyung says appreciatively. “why haven’t we met earlier?”
“i was born just twelve summers ago,” jungkook says. taehyung grins at him sweetly, bends down to grab jungkook’s hands and pull him up from the ground. jungkook notices that taehyung’s bare feet float slightly above the ground.
“oh yes, it’s been a while since i came through this area, hasn’t it? you’re a baby!” taehyung laughs. seeing jungkook duck his head shyly, taehyung blows a soft wind that flicks at jungkook’s mop of dark hair and shakes loose a twig or two.
“that’s not a bad thing!” taehyung reassures. “you’re the little elm ring spirit, aren’t you? near the creek?”
“yes,” jungkook says.
“i though i could sense something there when i passed by. jimin told me about you.”
“really? what did he say?” jungkook asks slowly, eyes wide.
“that you were cute,” taehyung says, tapping jungkook on the nose, “and i agree.”
jungkook shifts from foot to foot, uncomfortable but pleased. jimin, the widely adored water sprite, had said he was cute.
“well,” taehyung continues, “theoretically, i could make you fly, but it wouldn’t do to lift a tree spirit from his earth, even if you were born from a ring.”
jungkook sighs, but resigns himself. namjoon had told him in the past not to stray too far from his circle of elms, although he does have a much larger range than the older elm spirit, who stays within three hundred paces of his single tree. truthfully, jungkook actually doesn't mind that he cannot move freely, perhaps it's in his very nature that he's comfortable where he is.
“well, jungkook, i’m off,” taehyung says suddenly. “places to be, spirits to see, and all that.”
“oh,” jungkook says, still unused to the concept of coming and going when his friends are tree spirits or local deities who…don’t travel. “it was nice to meet you!”
“likewise,” taehyung says, leaves fluttering around his feet. and like that, he disappears, leaving behind a soft breeze smelling of the last traces of summer.
. . .
winter comes and jungkook melts into his trees more often than not. many of the forest creatures have gone to sleep, or have migrated away. it’s very quiet much of the time, so jungkook likes to run his consciousness through the web of roots that lie deep below a layer of frozen earth, checking in on the trees that stand bare, also asleep for the winter. occasionally he’ll come out into his body and wander through the snow with the small families of deer that linger. the cold doesn’t bother him, and indeed, there is something magical about the brightness of snow, the quiet sound of it falling, the way it sits on the thinnest of branches. often, it is jin who calls the young tree spirit out of the wood, knuckles tapping at one of the seven elms that form jungkook’s ring.
together they watch the clouds of smoke that rise from the humans’ home. 'a chimney', jin tells him. jungkook can sense, distantly, that the humans are healthy and warm in their house, the life in them burning even brighter than before. strange, considering most creatures feel dimmer to jungkook during winter.
“let’s find namjoon and have a snowball fight,” jin suggests one day after a significant snowfall, “i’m bored.”
and jungkook leaps into a deep bank of snow, excited at the prospect. ever since jin had taught him how to make snowballs during jungkook’s first winter and told him how the children of the village used to throw them at each other, jungkook had wanted to try. each winter, jin had refused because ‘it was unbecoming of a god.’
jungkook immediately packs a small ball of snow and lobs it at jin, hitting him right in the chest.
“insolent brat,” jin exclaims. “after i practically raised you!” he proceeds to chase after the forest spirit. despite being a god, jin’s aim is quite mediocre.
they soon find that namjoon is even worse, resorting to running in circles around his tree, until finally he forfeits the game by retreating into the wide trunk of his elm.
“that means we win, jungkook,” jin says, looking brilliant in red silk, the sash at his waist resting so gently on the snow behind him.
jungkook laughs and tosses a loosely packed snowball at jin’s face.
“i win,” he yells, prancing joyfully around the disgruntled deity, poised despite the ice in his hair.
“settle down, child,” jin says, though jungkook can see his smile.
. . .
sometime in late winter, as jungkook is following the deer, who are out in the afternoon sun, he is led to the edge of the clearing where the humans live. the dark roof of their little house is covered in a dusting of snow, and the woman is out on the porch, bundled in a thick coat and scarf. despite this, jungkook can see that her belly is swollen. ‘ah,’ jungkook thinks. ‘that’s what it was.’
the female human is with child. jungkook wonders what human children are like, if they are just as lovely and unsteady on their feet as newborn fawns, if they smell just as nice. perhaps he should ask jin. sometimes jin talks about the past, when the village was full of children, and the smile on his face is wistful when he speaks of them. when jungkook returns to his tree, he reaches through roots of the forest, stretches out until he feels the faint heat of three human lives pulsing, safe and sound.
like this, winter passes and gives way to spring.
. . .
in spring, the forest performs its annual miracle in a slow burst of color, the rising melodies of birdsong, the unfurling of life. jungkook knows that jimin has woken from his slumber when his tinkling laugh rings through the trees, ice having melted into joyous gurgling.
and from the clearing, new life emerges as well. jungkook had felt when the child came into the world because he’d been paying special attention, feeling the little one’s spirit grow, solidify, but he hadn’t seen the mother or child outside of the house yet.
finally, one morning, jin and jungkook witness the mother walk down the steps of the porch with a small bundle in her arms, the father hovering protectively nearby. she whispers to the child, tells him to smell the grass, feel the open air. she approaches the flowers that line the edge of the forest, where hydrangeas spill out in beautiful blues and purples.
“look at the flowers,” she says to the baby, barely two weeks old. “they’re so lovely, my little spring darling.” she doesn’t look away from the newborn, who has dark eyes and wispy, dark hair.
“they’re so lovely, my yoongi,” she says.
‘yoongi,’ jungkook thinks.
it sounds like the way moss feels, and like summer dusk.
yoongi.