Archive of Our Own

When he was younger, Seokjin used to have dreams so vivid they would spill over into reality.

It’s a common side effect of magical puberty , his mother had said, comforting the young Seokjin after she had done away with a hoard of dream-fairies that crowded themselves around Seokjin’s legs. They had clawed and scratched, wanting to go back to where they came from, wanting to claw through Seokjin himself.   It’s natural for a growing witch your age.

But Seokjin hadn’t had those types of witchy dreams since he was a teenager and his body was full of confusing, raging hormones. Yet the night before, he did dream of a black cat waltzing into his life and tormenting the mice that had made a permanent home behind his oven.

And now the cat is here, on top of his kitchen counter. Staring him down.

“Do I know you?” Seokjin asks, slowly stretching out his hand to not frighten the cat. It has a wild look in its eyes that warns Seokjin that it wouldn’t think twice to take out its claws if need be. (And for this cat, it seems like need be is more like at any given opportunity . Did this cat look as sour in his dream?)

The cat continues to stare, unblinking and unmoving. If it weren’t for the fact that it tilted its head when Seokjin first noticed it, Seokjin would think that it was an extremely realistic stuffed toy.

Seokjin sticks his hand out further, hoping the cat will sniff the back of his hand and realize that Seokjin means no harm. If this is a dream cat, it should go away by the end of the day. But on the off chance that it isn’t, Seokjin wants them to at least be on amicable terms.

The cat doesn’t even look at his hand. The little hope that Seokjin has crumbles.

“Fine, if you’re going to act like that then I guess I won’t leave any food out for you,” Seokjin says, turning his back on the cat to return to making breakfast. It’s odd being petty to a cat (who might not even be a real cat), but it’s honestly too early in the morning for Seokjin to be dealing with this. The sun hasn’t even risen and the only reason he’s up is because the potion he’s brewing needs to be placed on top of heat at exactly dawn. Seokjin checks the clock on the wall; he still has two minutes left to spare.

Three minutes pass and the potion is bubbling, giving off pleasant notes of sea salt and lavender. He ladles a cupful of the potion and holds it out to the cat, who is still staring at Seokjin as if he has all the answers. “Do you want some? It’ll cure your bad mood.”

Instead of remaining as still as it once was, the cat leans its head away from the potion, screwing up its face as if Seokjin was offering it stale fish instead of a lovely, well-brewed Focus potion. “Well aren’t you picky.”

“It doesn’t have enough peppermint seeds in it,” the cat replies. Replies, as in opens its nonhuman mouth and shows its nonhuman teeth and talks with its nonhuman tongue.

Replies , as in speaks.

This is definitely a dream cat.

Seokjin drops the ladle, the warm potion spilling across the kitchen floor. It’s going to dry and leave the floor with a nasty film covering it. But that’s the least of Seokjin’s worries.

Behind the cat-ness of the voice, only one person has that type of nasally yet gruff tone. And being his roommate since the beginning of time, Seokjin has heard that voice almost every day.

“Yoongi?”

Now that he’s looking for it, the cat does carry some Yoongi-like qualities. The tilt of his head is the same, the stale glare of his eyes. Even cat-Yoongi looks perpetually tired, as if he never gets a full eight hours of sleep.

The cat ( Yoongi? ) sighs and rests its head on the counter. “Hey, Seokjin,” it says.

Seokjin, for his part, manages to muffle his scream.

--

Seokjin doesn’t bother knocking on the door. He announces his arrival only after he’s shut the door behind him and has taken off his shoes. “Hello?” he asks into the dark hallway. Given the late time of night, he knows somebody has to be home. Actually, knowing Taehyung’s frantic antics and his charismatic way of dragging everyone around him into them, Seokjin doesn’t know that. But the door was open. That has to mean something. “Anyone here?”

“Someone better be fuckin’ here,” Yoongi growls from his position in Seokjin’s satchel. “I don’t want to be a cat for any longer than I need to be.” His head sticks out from the side and Seokjin resists the urge to pat the top of his head. Seokjin only had stopped calling cat-Yoongi “cute” when Yoongi scratched him and left a mark.

Seokjin walks down the hallway and into the kitchen. The lights are off here, too, but Seokjin can see the faint light from the television flickering across the living room. Taehyung is laying on the couch, draped over his housemates Jimin and Jungkook, both of them looking far too content to be having a grown man spread over them.

Seokjin clears his throat and the only indication that anyone hears him is Taehyung’s feeble wave of his hand and Jungkook’s Oh, hey Seokjin. Jimin doesn’t do anything but let out a soft snore.

“It’s hyung ,” Seokjin corrects, more out of instinct than out of actual desire for Jungkook to properly address him. He’s been trying to get Jungkook to call him hyung since he first picked up Jungkook as an apprentice. So far, Jungkook has called Seokjin hyung a total of 12 times in three years. Seokjin would know; he’s counting. The damn psychic is a brat.

“What are you doing here? Where’s your boyfriend?” Taehyung asks, head still facing the television. “I thought you said that you would use your spare key only for emergencies.”

“The door was open,” Seokjin starts. He pointedly ignores the second question. “Which is not safe, by the way. What if I was a burglar or something?”  He reaches in his bag and pulls Yoongi out. Yoongi, for his part, stays quiet and doesn’t put up a fight. But it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that he’s uncomfortable. “But this is an emergency.”

“Jimin was the last one in,” Jungkook says, nudging Jimin out of his sleep. Jimin makes a soft sound of surprise and rubs at his eyes.

“The dorm is charmed with protection spells,” Taehyung says, still facing the television. “It wouldn’t let any random person in in the first place.”

“It’s biomagic,” Jungkook adds. “Cool shit.”

“A cat…” Jimin says, his voice sleepy. He makes grabby hands at Yoongi and Seokjin pulls Yoongi away before he can do something rash, like hiss. “A cat?”

Seokjin holds Yoongi to his chest. “Explain.”

For the first time since Seokjin has been there, Taehyung turns his head. The action is slow, like his body and mind aren’t working quite in sync. Seokjin doesn’t even want to know what kind of potions Taehyung was working on to make his actions that disjointed. He doesn’t even look surprised to see that Seokjin is holding a cat. “It’s a cat.”

“Yes, it is a cat. Explain.”

Jimin yawns. “It’s a cute cat?”

“I’m not cute,” Yoongi hisses.

Jungkook’s eyes widen immediately. “It’s a talking cat.”

“Where did you get a talking cat?” Taehyung asks, all of his attention and enthusiasm suddenly thrown into the conversation. He throws himself to the ground and then pops up like one of those rubber toys that stick to the ground and then smack you in the face the second you let your guard down. “There’s only, like, seven documented cases of naturally-talking felines! Do you know how groundbreaking this is? Have you told anyone else about this?”

“Shut up, Taehyung,” Yoongi mutters. It comes out as half of a growl.

“Oh my god it knows my name,” Taehyung says, rushing forward and lifting Yoongi out of Seokjin’s hands before Seokjin gets the chance to protest. Yoongi writhes around in Taehyung’s grasp but Taehyung specializes in animal magic and spells. This isn’t the first time an animal has tried to claw its way out of his hands.

“Is that…?” Jimin looks towards Seokjin for confirmation. Seokjin sends him a blank look and Jimin gasps. “Yoongi-hyung?”  

“Yoongi?” Jungkook asks, confused. He looks at Seokjin and then at Jimin and then at Taehyung and then back at Seokjin.

“Why are we talking about Yoongi-hyung?” Taehyung asks, still holding onto a squirming Yoongi.

Seokjin thinks about helping Yoongi by taking him away from Taehyung. But then he thinks about earlier in the day when Yoongi was complaining about having nothing to eat, even though Seokjin had spent all those early hours cooking up a copious amount of options for him. Yoongi will be fine in Taehyung’s grasp for a few more seconds.

“The cat is Yoongi,” Jimin says, pointing to the unhappy expression on Yoongi’s face. Seokjin didn’t even know cats could frown that deeply, but he guesses that Yoongi isn’t really a cat in the first place.

Taehyung, in his surprise, stops trying to control Yoongi and in that moment, Yoongi slips free from his grasp and falls to the floor. He lands on his feet and scurries to hide underneath the couch.

“Hyung?” Taehyung asks, hands outstretched as if Yoongi was still in them. “The cat is Yoongi-hyung?”

“So I’m guessing none of you guys accidentally turned Yoongi into a cat?” Seokjin asks, exasperated. The whole reason that they’re here is because Yoongi thought one of them decided to pull what they thought was a harmless prank on him. In order to get Yoongi back to his human body, they need to figure out what spell or charm or potion was used and then find the antidote.

Theoretically, if they can’t find out what caused the transformation, they could try a bunch of random things in hopes that it would trigger Yoongi out of the cat-state, but that’s a last-ditch effort. Hopefully, they won’t have to resort to that.

“Why would we do that?” Jungkook asks.

“Jungkook, weren’t you turned into a rabbit last month?”

Jungkook presses his lips together into a line. “That is true.”

“We didn’t have anything to do with this, though,” Jimin states. “Taehyung, please don’t try to get Yoongi-hyung out from underneath the couch.”

Taehyung, kneeling in front of the couch, freezes. “I’m just trying to help.”

“He’ll scratch you,” Seokjin warns. “He has claws.”

Taehyung slowly inches his hand underneath the couch and Seokjin doesn’t have the energy to tell him I Told You So when Yoongi sinks his claws into the palm of Taehyung’s hand and Taehyung yelps in pain.

--

Namjoon’s office is a bit like Namjoon himself: looming at first glance, holds more knowledge that Seokjin knows what to do with, but undeniably a touch away from falling into complete disorder.

Every time he visits, Seokjin is filled with a renewed sense of awe towards magic. There’s just so much to learn, so much to be accomplished. Hopefully, somewhere among the books and the spells and potions that make up Namjoon’s office, there will be a cure.

“How long has he been a cat?” Namjoon asks, flipping through a book with more pages than Seokjin has hair on his head. And he’s nowhere near bald. Even though the three kids weren’t responsible for Yoongi’s predicament, they tried their best to help. They brainstormed possible ideas of what could have happened and tried to implement a handful of antidotes. They had worked for over two days and at the end of it all, Yoongi was knocked out (a side effect of an antidote that didn’t do much except make Yoongi glow like a glowstick) and Taehyung had admitted defeat.

“I don’t know, hyung.” Taehyung, when he gets in the right mindspace, loses all sense of time; he was in the same clothes he was in when Seokjin and Yoongi had first asked for his help. “My specialty is magical creatures and animals. Not, like, humans who become animals. Well, I do deal with familiars on the regular but Yoongi isn’t a familiar. He’s just. Unfortunate.”

“Unfortunate,” Seokjin repeated.

“Unfortunate,” Taehyung confirmed. “Hopefully whatever he got into has a time component to it so you can just wait it out. I know you probably miss him.” Taehyung looked at Yoongi’s sleeping body and sighed. “The answer is probably stuck somewhere that you can’t see.”

Seokjin sighed. Taehyung’s help was well-appreciated but the only thing they got out of it was Give It Time. He figured that they don’t have to live with Yoongi insisting that he has to sleep on the end of Seokjin’s bed only for Seokjin to wake up with Yoongi curled up on his chest.

Seokjin, throughout these past few days of cat-Yoongi-ness, has found out that he’s terribly allergic to cats. He’s sick and tired of watery eyes and an itchy throat. He wants to breathe like a normal, healthy human being. At this point, even the allergy medicine (and potions) only offer mild relief.

Seokjin’s done with giving it time. He just wants Yoongi back. Even though Yoongi has taken to following him around like his own shadow, Seokjin misses him. Cat Yoongi isn’t the same as coming home to Yoongi trying his hand at cooking dinner, or sitting in the living room complaining about infomercials, or napping in Seokjin’s bed because I never get a good night’s rest on my own bed . Human Yoongi never got fur all over the duvet.

“Seokjin?” Namjoon asks, startling Seokjin out of his thoughts. Seokjin shakes his head and gives his attention to Namjoon.

“Hm?”

“Do you know how long he’s been like this?” Namjoon asks. “Yoongi says only for a few days, but it seems like longer.” He points to the ground, where Yoongi has managed to curl himself up into the small spot of sun. “If we don’t find out what’s causing it soon…”

“What do you mean?”

Namjoon closes his book shut. “I mean, he’s acting more like a cat isn’t he? Say, at the start it was 90% Yoongi and 10% cat. Based on his behavior, it’s at least 75/25 now.”

“And so if he stays this way, he’s going to become a cat,” Seokjin surmises. “Yoongi is going to become an actual, real cat.” Seokjin watches Yoongi’s small chest rise up and while it’s cute, Seokjin doesn’t need a cat. He doesn’t want a cat. What he wants is Yoongi, human-form and complaining about the cold weather and stealing his blankets and putting up a hard front that he doesn’t actually mean.

“Well, we don’t know that for sure. I’ve dealt with people turning into animals and one weird case of an animal turning into a human, but in those cases we’ve always known the cause. For Yoongi, even though the kids tried a bunch of standard methods, nothing has worked.” Namjoon frowns and that’s when Seokjin knows that it’s bad. Namjoon’s always smiling, always an optimist. For Namjoon to frown means that even he is stumped. And Namjoon’s the smartest witch that Seokjin has ever crossed paths with. Seokjin’s stomach churns with uneasiness. “Next bet would be trying everything.”

“Everything?” Everything, as the word implies, is a lot of things. Seokjin eyes Yoongi’s sleeping form and doesn’t think that they have enough time to try everything.

“We can try random actions and see if something in them will trigger a response and then work our way from there. But none of the most common remedies have worked, so I can’t guarantee that any of the rarer ones will work. They’re very… specific.”

Seokjin hums, in thought. The rare remedies include odd objects like powdered fairy tears and fermented unicorn hair. Seokjin doesn’t think that unicorns even exist anymore. “What if we do Old Magic instead? Maybe there’s something fundamental about this that we’re overlooking. Old Magic deals with transmutation, doesn’t it?”

Old Magic, as the name infers, is a type of magic that spans across centuries and centuries and then a millennium or two. It’s a little crude, a little rough around the edges, but overall effective when applied correctly. Beyond the course he was required to take when getting his magical license, Seokjin doesn’t know much about Old Magic. But it’s better than waiting for Yoongi to never become human again.

“Old Magic,” Namjoon repeats. He walks to one of the towering bookshelves and squints at it. He runs his fingers along several books before stopping at one and pulling it out. “Here,” he says, handing it to Seokjin. “This is the only book I have on Old Magic. It’s Hoseok’s, actually. I’ve been meaning to return it but I keep forgetting to.”

Seokjin snorts as he takes the book. “So what? You’re going to have me return it so you don’t have to deal with Hoseok hexing you?”

Namjoon shrugs. He leans down and runs his hand through Yoongi’s fur, waking him. “He’ll find something to pester me with anyway.”

Yoongi meows and then grumbles something about needing more sleep. Namjoon pets him until Yoongi raises his head and glares at the two of them.

“Time to go, Yoongo,” Seokjin says.

“Are we finally getting me out of this damn cat body?” Yoongi asks and Seokjin is relieved his voice still retains a certain gruffy, Yoongi-like quality to it. “I can’t wait to take an actual shower.”

“Trust me,” Seokjin says,  “I can’t wait for you to take a shower either.”

--

Hoseok lives in a small apartment above a pastry shop. Hoseok can’t bake, but a few years ago the baker’s wife was having strange dreams that freaked her out enough to call a witch. Because Hoseok deals in the older, more straightforward magic, he had no problem interpreting her dream as a subconscious message that she was sick with a strain bacteria that is fatal when left untreated. As thanks, the couple offered the space above their bakery for an insanely low price. Hoseok’s been living there ever since, and on most days, they’ll give him the leftovers that they can’t use the next day.

Seokjin munches on one of those leftovers now. While he’s sure that it tastes amazing, he’s more focused on navigating the tight, narrow passageways that lead through Hoseok’s apartment. It’s such a small place that calling it an apartment is a stretch. It doesn’t help that the walls are plastered with girl group posters and occasional sticky notes of illegible handwriting that are so haphazardly hung up that the slightest breeze knocks them away.

But if it works for Hoseok, who is Seokjin to say anything?

Finally, Hoseok leads them to the open space that is the kitchen. Yoongi immediately jumps onto the counter and lays down, head cradled in his front paws and his back legs extended behind him. Hoseok pets him on the head. Yoongi purrs.

“Did you just purr?” Seokjin asks.

“Of course he did,” Hoseok answers, giving Yoongi one last pet and then a quick tap on the head before scampering to the refrigerator. “I give good pets.”

Yoongi, for his part, stares Seokjin down until Seokjin sticks out his tongue at him. Three weeks ago if you had told Seokjin that he’d be making faces at a black cat only for the cat to make a face back at him, he would have told you to fuck off. But now, that’s exactly what’s happening.

Seokjin doesn’t know where he went wrong. (Actually, it’s where Yoongi went wrong. They’re still trying to figure that out too.)

“Okay, so what do you guys want to start with?” Hoseok sits on the floor in front of his open fridge. He takes multiple cans out of the bottom drawer and inspects them. “A palm reading? Card reading? A tea leaf reading? Maybe ditch that and go straight to the relationship advice?”

Seokjin pointedly ignores the last part of Hoseok’s sentence. He’s always saying weird things that don’t quite make sense. (Actually, they make perfect sense. But Yoongi is Seokjin’s roommate, his best friend for life. And that’s where the two of them are going to stay. Who knows what will happen if Seokjin crosses that line between best friend and something more? He doesn’t like to think about what ifs. ) “Will any of those actually help?” Seokjin doesn’t mean to sound skeptical, but it slips through. He knows that Old Magic set the foundations for what is now the current magical system, but it seems so outdated and little backwards. But regardless of his inhibitions, Hoseok is the best, and one of the few remaining practitioners of Old Magic.

Hoseok shrugs. “It doesn’t hurt to try.” He tosses two cans back into the drawer and puts two on the counter. “I say we start with tea leaves and see where that takes us.”

“I don’t like tea,” Yoongi says. “Can’t we do it with coffee beans or something?”

Hoseok smiles. “Of course we can. Do you want cream and sugar? Or do you like it black? I don’t remember.”

“Cats can’t have milk,” Seokjin adds.

“I’m not a cat,” Yoongi insists.

Seokjin stares at him. “Then why did I wake up to you hacking up a hairball onto my bath rug? Why, Yoongi?”

“Let’s not fight,” Hoseok chides, holding out a cup of coffee. “These readings can’t have anything added to the grounds anyway– or else it won’t work.” Seokjin forgets that on top of Old Magic, Hoseok’s always been interested in the fluidity of time and can do things a bit faster than anyone else. He blows on the drink and then sets it in front of Yoongi. “Drink up.”

Yoongi gets up to his feet (his four feet) and grimaces into the coffee cup. “Do I have to drink the entire thing?”

“Yup. There’s no budging on this one, sorry. But you can take as long as you want. I’m not in any rush today.”

Despite his tiny body, Yoongi sighs so loudly that it triggers a pang of sympathy in Seokjin. But the sympathy is minimal because they really need to figure out how to get Yoongi back to his human body. Namjoon’s warning echoes in the back of Seokjin’s head.

Yoongi drinks, burns his tongue on the hot liquid, and then drinks some more. It’s not a large mug of coffee, but it takes long enough that by the time Yoongi has finished the drink, Seokjin’s passed out on the couch. (Read: on top of a multitude of blankets and spare pens and papers that don’t seem to have a home in Hoseok’s chaos. Or maybe their home is the couch. Who knows.)

When Seokjin wakes, Hoseok is sitting on the ground in front of the couch, his tattered deck of tarot cards spread out before him. “Hey,” Seokjin greets, turning to his side so he can see what’s going on. In his movement, he manages to knock off a blanket that he wasn’t using, seven pieces of paper, and two pens. Hoseok doesn’t pay any attention to the mess. “How did the tea reading go?”

“The coffee bean reading? It went,” Hoseok says, eyes on the cards. “It didn’t really say anything other than that he was trapped in his emotions but,”–he looks up now and raises his eyebrows in mock surprise– “we already knew that. Plus, the coffee didn’t agree with Yoongi’s cat system and I didn’t have any litter boxes or anything, so that was a mess.”

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” Seokjin sits up. The lights in the room are dim and even though the curtains aren’t drawn, there’s no light coming through them. “Wait, how long did I sleep?”

“Six or seven hours,” Yoongi says. Seokjin didn’t even know that he was in the room, but now that he’s up, Seokjin can see Yoongi sitting underneath the coffee table, facing the cards. “Hoseok was going to wake you up, but I know you haven’t been sleeping well.”

“I wonder why I haven’t been sleeping well,” Seokjin teases, but it doesn’t have a bite to it. He rubs the back of his neck and stretches. He doesn’t like sleeping at places that aren’t his bed because he always wakes up feeling disoriented and startled.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Hoseok suddenly states. “Yoongi, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“What?” Seokjin asks. Did Hoseok see something bad in the cards? Are they too late to reverse whatever hex or charm or spell that was put on Yoongi? Is Yoongi going to be a cat for the rest of his life?

Is Seokjin’s best friend going to be cat forever?

Is Seokjin really going to have to come to terms with the reality that he’s in love with a damn cat?

Instead of an answer, Hoseok starts laughing. He rolls backwards until his back hits the edge of the couch. He throws his head back, still laughing. He laughs and laughs until there are tears forming at the corners of his eyes.

“What are you laughing at? What do the cards say?”

Hoseok wipes away the tears with his sleeve and sighs. “So you know how this whole time we were trying to figure out how your boyfriend became a cat? We literally didn’t have to do any of that work.”

“Does that mean I’m stuck like this?” Yoongi asks, alarmed. Seokjin’s heart skips a beat, not even bothering to correct Hoseok on the fact that they aren’t together. What does he mean that they didn’t have to do any of that work? Seokjin has been grinding, has put all of his other projects on the backburner in hopes of figuring out something that will make Yoongi return to normal.

“No, you’ll turn back soon enough. But let’s have a little show-and-tell time,” Hoseok picks up the six of wands and holds it in the air. “I’ll start; I love sharing. This is the six of wands. For as long as I’ve known you, this is the card I always pull for you. In short, you’re the six of wands. And I’ve pulled it three times in one sitting. And you know what my question was?” Hoseok lays the card in front of Yoongi. “Every time? It was Who turned Yoongi into a cat. Your turn, Yoongi.”

Yoongi slowly lays flat, but he has a wild look to his eyes that tell Seokjin that he’s thinking of running. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to share.”

“Oh, anything really. You can share your favorite color, how environmentally impactful a bag tax is in metropolitan areas, or maybe the reason why you didn’t tell anyone that you accidentally charmed yourself into being a cat. ”

There’s silence for a beat, two as both Hoseok and Seokjin stare at Yoongi. Yoongi takes a small step backwards, away from the tarot cards, away from Hoseok and Seokjin. “I can explain,” Yoongi cautiously says. If he were in his human body, he’d be holding his hands over his head as if trying to say I’m innocent!  

But he’s not in his human form. And so he runs.

--

Seokjin finishes making dinner when Yoongi finally sticks his small head into the kitchen. Since Hoseok’s reading, Seokjin has been trying to get Yoongi to talk to him, but Yoongi has had his mouth zipped shut. Seokjin can tell that Yoongi is embarrassed about it, and after the initial wave of irritation passed, Seokjin can understand why Yoongi never told them. Yoongi’s a talented witch and having a charm backfire and hit yourself is a rookie, rookie mistake. Emphasis on the rookie. (But it’s not as if they all haven’t done it a few times. Seokjin was once in the middle of working on a magical, more powerful version of a flu shot when it slipped through his hands and gave him a runny nose and a sore throat a low-grade fever for a week. But then again, he never did turn into a cat. And this cat has made him sick for weeks. )

But now that they know the cause of Yoongi’s cat-ness, they can finally work on the cure. Finally. If only Yoongi would open his mouth and tell Seokjin what he was working on. If only Yoongi would say something. All Yoongi needs to do is talk.

“Hungry?” Seokjin asks, stirring the pasta sauce and putting a dollop on top of each serving of spaghetti. Yoongi, as expected, doesn’t say a word. Seokjin busies himself with readying two plates of food and when he is done, he puts them on opposite sides of the kitchen counter. Seokjin would use the table, but it’s piled up with books and papers that hopefully hold a clue to turn Yoongi back. Of course, the biggest clue is in front of him, eyeing at the food as if it to make sure it is edible.

“I didn’t poison your meal,” Seokjin says, swirling a pile of spaghetti around his fork. “If that’s what you’re worried about, you’re fine. C’mon. Eat a little bit. I’m sure cat food is disgusting.”

It takes a second, but Yoongi eventually jumps onto the counter and sniffs at the food. He leans in close, getting pasta sauce on the tip of his nose. Yoongi meows, then says, “You’re the one who insisted on buying that horrible food anyway.” He takes a timid lick.

Seokjin swirls the same piece of spaghetti around his fork, watching Yoongi eat. It’s not that Seokjin isn’t hungry (he didn’t just make a serving for two just on a whim), but he’s rather intrigued by Yoongi’s actions. A few days ago, Seokjin caught Yoongi kneading (and efficiently ripping to shreds) one of the sofa cushions. And over the past week, Seokjin’s been hearing the birdsongs from the birds that live in his backyard less often. As if there’s fewer of them to sing. Seokjin hasn’t found any proof yet, but he also hasn’t been looking for it. Yoongi has been acting more like a cat than before and it startles Seokjin. Makes his appetite drop from his stomach and fall to the floor. Makes the warm, home-cooked meal in front of him dissatisfying.

Seokjin takes a small bite of food and then puts the fork down on the plate. “Yoongi,” he says, loud enough that Yoongi jumps, back arching and a hiss flying out of his mouth. When he realizes that it’s just Seokjin being noisy, he relaxes and licks at the sauce around his mouth like he doesn’t have a care in the world. “You’re a cat.”

Yoongi stares, big brown eyes with pupils so big they’re practically all black. “Are you just now noticing? I’ve been one for three weeks.”

“No,” Seokjin says, exasperated. He shakes his head; that isn’t what he means. “What if it’s too late to turn you back? What if you’re going to be a cat forever?”

Yoongi continues to stare, but this time he doesn’t say anything.

“Why won’t you say anything?” Seokjin questions. “What if you really can’t turn back Yoongi? Then what?”

Yoongi’s voice is level when he speaks. “I’ve made peace with that.”

“You’ve made peace with that?” Seokjin repeats, anger over Yoongi’s passiveness crashing over him like a tsunami. Suddenly all Seokjin can feel is anger. Anger at not having his best friend by his side; anger at the fact that there’s been a seemingly never-ending stream of phlegm clogging up his respiratory tract; anger over Yoongi’s reluctance to change; anger over the possibility of never seeing Yoongi’s human face again; anger at maybe never getting the chance to hold Yoongi like he’s wanted to for years. “With what? Being a cat forever? Yoongi, doesn’t that scare you? Doesn’t that overwhelm you?”

Yoongi jumps off the counter. “There’s nothing I can do about it.” He sounds as if he never had any hope of changing back in the first place.

Seokjin flips. Literally, the plate full of food flips over and crashes to the ground, sauce and pasta going every which way. Later, Seokjin is going to have to bring out the Clorox and try his hand at wiping away the red stains. But that’s later and this is now.

Now is Yoongi paused in fright, back arched and hair standing on edge, looking like a bad imitation of a Halloween cat decoration.

Now is Seokjin, voice quiet as all the adrenaline floods out of his system and leaves him unsure, unsteady, woozy, and shaking, asking, “Yoongi, do you know how to make yourself human again?”

Now is Yoongi muttering so quietly that Seokjin makes him repeat it.

Now is Yoongi saying Yes .

--

Seokjin rarely follows his first response. And so even though his first thought is to grab Yoongi’s small face between his palms and kiss him in relief, he doesn’t.

(If Seokjin were to always follow his first response, he’d probably do a lot of things that he would end up regretting.)

And so his second response, the more thought-out, emotionally sound response is to call Hoseok. Which is what exactly he does.

“Can you please stop laughing?” Seokjin hisses into his phone. It’s pressed between his cheek and his shoulder and any slipup will land the phone in a devastatingly large sink of soapy water. He tries hard to not slip. He wants clean dishes, not a water-damaged phone. He’s already cleaned the floor, directing his emotions at the mess so he has a more level head when talking to Hoseok. “You’re making this harder than it needs to be.”

“Oh, I’m not the ones making this hard,” Hoseok replies, his voice breathy. “Who the hell puts True Love’s Kiss as the cure to a charm nowadays? And I’m supposed to be the one practicing Old Magic?”

“You’re asking that question like I have an answer for it. Which I don’t. That’s why I’m calling you.” Seokjin’s only partly annoyed at Hoseok’s humorous approach to the situation. The other half of the annoyance is directed at Yoongi and his stupid, stupid fuck-up.

In Yoongi’s defense, he had clarified that he wasn’t trying to make True Love’s Kiss the cure. He was trying to make what Seokjin can best explain as something that works like Harry Potter’s polyjuice potion. There’s no definite recipe for it and Yoongi was pulling parts from multiple charms and spells and seeing what would stick.

In Seokjin’s defense, Yoongi’s method was bound to end in disaster.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Hoseok continues. “True Love is such an arbitrary concept nowadays. What if we put flyers up?”

“Flyers?”

“Flyers. Like, ‘Cat-Man in need of True Love’s Kiss. Only accepting serious inquiries.’ It’ll be like a Tinder profile but in real life. And for a cat.”

If Seokjin had a free hand, he’d end the call. But both his hands are soapy and wet. He settles for sighing and hoping his exasperation is well-expressed.

“We need to find his True Love, Hoseok. Not someone with a weird cat-kissing fetish.”

“So is that a no?”

Seokjin dries his hand and switches the phone to his other cheek. He doesn’t want to look in a mirror: he already knows he has a phone-shaped imprint on the side of his face, right next to his red-eyes and ugly tear tracks running down his cheeks. “It’s a no. It’s always a no. Don’t tell me you’ve already done something with it.”  

“Jungkook may have or may not have had a small premonition,” Hoseok starts and Seokjin groans. Jungkook has premonitions all the time, but they’re mostly about small things that don’t carry much weight. (It’s not unusual for Seokjin to wake up to a text message from Jungkook warning him about something odd yet incredibly specific to avoid. Early this week Jungkook had told him to steer clear of yellow-colored carpets and Seokjin hadn’t even known what he was talking about until later in the day, when Yoongi hacked up a hairball onto the yellow bath mat.)

“And you didn’t think that information would be important to relay to me?” Seokjin asks, incredulous. Jungkook and Hoseok and probably everyone else have been sitting on this information while leaving Seokjin floundering around helplessly. “What a good group of friends you guys are.”

“Hyung,” Hoseok whines. “We knew Yoongi was going to tell you by the end of the day. What difference does a few hours make?”

“A few hours means that you already have the flyers printed out, right?”

“We only have thirty of them! The boy’s printer ran out of ink.” Hoseok defends. “That’s a decent number of them. Not too little, not too much.”

“Do you really think that’s going to help find his True Love?” Seokjin thinks about the type of person that Yoongi would be into. Probably someone who doesn’t mind spending multiple nights in, who doesn’t mind that Yoongi’s affection shows more often in his actions than in his words. But would that person also be into Yoongi? Would they be willing to kiss a cat and fall in love, just like in the dumb, dumb fairytales?

“No,” Hoseok answers bluntly. “Like I said before, True Love is abstract as fuck.”

“Then how exactly are we supposed to get Yoongi to turn back into a human? If True Love doesn’t exist then what? Is he stuck as a cat forever? Are you saying that I’m never going to get my Yoongi back?” Seokjin doesn’t mean to get so heated, but his emotions have been a rollercoaster these past few weeks and the more time passes, the more everything feels exaggerated and that much closer to exploding.

“He’ll turn back. The term True Love really just means that he needs to be kissed by someone that loves him and by someone whom he loves. The love needs to be–” In his mind’s eyes, Seokjin can see Hoseok holding up his fingers to count off. “One: mutual. And Two: romantic.”

“That doesn’t help at all, Hoseok. Yoongi isn’t seeing anyone.” If it would do anything at all, Seokjin would kiss Yoongi’s cat mouth in a heartbeat. He’s carried a torch for him for the longest time. But that torch is just that: a torch, a small flicker of hope because there has never been any indication that Yoongi remotely feels the same way.

“Um, what,” Hoseok states, voice monotone. “What do you mean.”

Seokjin’s confused. What part of Yoongi isn’t seeing anyone is confusing? “Yoongi isn’t dating anyone?”

There’s a pause on Hoseok’s end and Seokjin is about to take the phone away from his face and see is the call is still working when Hoseok says, “But aren’t you and Yoongi-hyung dating? I mean, we were just doing the flyers because Jungkook likes to get carried away with projects but–”

“But what, Hoseok?” Seokjin doesn’t know what’s happening. Seokjin and Yoongi are obviously not dating. Sure, their friends like to tease them about that but they were never serious , were they? Seokjin and Yoongi have never been dating. Yoongi doesn’t even like him in a romantic way.

“Hyung! You live together!”

“Yoongi has a separate room.”

“We all just thought that it was for pretenses if your guys’ families ever came around to visit. He’s rarely sleeping in there anyway. You guys are always up in each other’s spaces and acting like a couple. Yoongi’s even kissed you before!”

“Yoongi’s kissed me on the cheek, Hoseok. That’s a big difference. I kiss you and Namjoon and the kids on the cheek all the time!”

“You do!” Seokjin doesn’t have to be there to be able to know that Hoseok is nodding his head. “But Yoongi-hyung doesn’t! The only time I’ve ever seen him comfortable with physical affection is when it’s with you. Are you sure you two aren’t dating?”

“I’m sure. Yoongi doesn’t like me in a romantic way. We’re just housemates, friends. ” Seokjin’s starting to feel sick. He isn’t sure if it’s because of Hoseok’s instance of Yoongi and his relationship or if it’s because Seokjin swears he just saw Yoongi walk past the doorway.

Hoseok is petulant and stubborn. “I don’t believe you. I’ve never seen two friends act like th–”

“I’m not having this conversation with you, Hoseok. Yoongi doesn’t like me romantically. I know. He’s told me.”

“ He’s told you?” Hoseok all but screeches.

“In not those exact words, but essentially, yes.”

(It was a few years ago, when getting drunk on a weekday night had a type of youthful, glossy appeal to it. It was nearing four in the morning when they finally arrived back home, and while Seokjin was mostly sober, Yoongi was still slurring his words and tripping over his feet.

Seokjin led a wobbly Yoongi to their kitchen table, making him sit down while he went to grab two cups of water. He pushed a glass towards Yoongi, telling him that he had to drink the entire thing before going to bed.

“Seokjin,” Yoongi said, the last of the water completely missing his mouth and sloshing against the side of his face. “You’re the best part of my life, you know that?”

Halfway through his own glass of water, Seokjin choked. “I’m what?”

“I don’t know what I’d do without you. You’re kinda perfect. I’d be annoyed if you weren’t so amazing.”

Seokjin’s heart raced. He had just realized he loved Yoongi a few weeks ago. It was and wasn’t a sudden realization; it was moment in time where everything clicked and place and Seokjin had sighed and went Oh. I’m in love with Yoongi. That makes sense.

Sometimes, just sometimes, Seokjin thought Yoongi felt the same way. It would be in the way that Yoongi’s gaze would linger for just a second too long; in the way that Yoongi treated him a little differently from the rest of their friends; in the way that Yoongi and Seokjin seemed to gravitate towards each other, always touching even when they had no reason to be.

Being around Yoongi made Seokjin feel as if he was caught in the middle of flames. And sometimes, just sometimes, Seokjin thought that Yoongi was burning too.

Always, Seokjin pushed these thoughts away as fruitless, wishful thinking.

But hearing Yoongi gush about him made his stomach flip. “What do you mean?”

Yoongi shook his head. “I dunno.” He looked up and met Seokjin’s eyes. He was still obviously drunk, his eyes wide yet unfocused. There was still a slight flush sticking onto his skin. “I feel like the stars, or some otherworldly force, told us we had to be together.” Yoongi leaned over and grabbed Seokjin’s hand. Yoongi rubbed the back of his hand. “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had. And I hope we stay best friends for a while.”

Alcohol was supposed to be a great truth serum, wasn’t it? Seokjin felt like he was drunk again, his head fuzzy with an overflow of emotions. Seokjin tried to swallow but his mouth was dry. “Am I just your best friend?”

Am I only ever going to stay your best friend?

Yoongi smiled, a dopey yet gleeful expression. He nodded. “I told you, the best friend I’ve ever had.”

Seokjin’s heart sank. He took his hand out of Yoongi’s grasp, suddenly feeling cold. He abruptly got up, the chair squeaking against the sudden movement. “C’mon Yoongi, let’s get you to bed.” He didn’t cry that night, his brain short-circuiting after playing the small conversation over and over again in his head. But the next morning, he cried until Yoongi had tentatively knocked on his bedroom door, asking if he was okay.

And all that did was make Seokjin cry harder.)

There’s a shuffle on Hoseok’s end of the line. All Seokjin can hear is muffled bits of an argument, then Jungkook’s voice is ringing through the phone. “Hey, Seokjin.” He sounds groggy, as if he just woke up from a nap. Seokjin is duly reminded that Jungkook always has his premonitions when he’s asleep. “Please, just kiss him. It’ll work. I saw it.”

Seokjin’s stomach churns and he’s still not sure if it’s because of Jungkook’s words or because Yoongi is actually walking into the room, head hanging on his shoulders.

“Kiss him!” Hoseok’s voice rings, cheery and bright. Seokjin finally ends the call.

--

Why didn’t you tell me? Seokjin doesn’t say because he already knows the answer. The answer is Yoongi didn’t tell him because there was nothing for Seokjin to do. If it was just any kiss, then maybe Seokjin could be of help. But this is True Love’s Kiss , or as Hoseok had explained, a Mutual Love Kiss . For both Seokjin and Yoongi, there’s nothing that can be done.

Yoongi doesn’t love Seokjin and that’s that.

But Jungkook had that premonition and he’s rarely, if ever, wrong about them. And most of the time that he is wrong, it’s because he’s not able to correctly discern who or what he’s seeing. But Jungkook knows Seokjin and Yoongi. He would never say anything to them if he wasn’t certain about it.

“So a kiss, huh,” is what Seokjin says instead. He slips his phone into his back pocket and leans against the counter. He hasn’t wiped up the water yet, so the back of his shirt becomes damp in a second. Yoongi jumps onto the counter. They’re facing each other, a few feet separating them. This is the closest they’ve been to each other in a handful of days and even then, it’s not that close.

“Yeah, a kiss,” Yoongi confirms. “Which means that I’m never going to be turned back into a human. I’m an idiot and this is embarrassing and if I could, I’d just ignore it and go on with my life.”

“You’ve been doing a pretty good job of that,” Seokjin says. “Of ignoring it and going on. Considering you knew the cure all along and didn’t bother to tell any of us.” Seokjin’s not bothering to play nice any more.

Yoongi stays quiet, so Seokjin continues talking. “But Hoseok said that there might be another way around it.” He’s feeling angsty and he knows it because he’s nervous of what he’s about to do. Seokjin takes a step forward, then two, then three, and then he’s right in front of Yoongi. Yoongi turns his head up to look at him, confused.

“ Here goes nothing ,” Seokjin whispers under his breath, taking the few steps to close the space between them and then leaning down and pressing a hard kiss onto the top of Yoongi’s head. Neither Hoseok nor Jungkook had specified what type of kiss it had to be, so hopefully this is enough. Seokjin lets his lips linger on Yoongi’s fur for a few moments. Then Seokjin pulls away and opens his eyes.

Yoongi is still a cat. The only difference is now he’s so still that he doesn’t look like he’s even breathing.

The kiss… didn’t work.

Seokjin’s heart sinks. He knows that he should have never let Hoseok nor Jungkook get his hopes up, if even just for a fraction of a second. It still hurts. It aches, actually, and the ache is cold and deep and paralyzing. It’s supposed to be a True Love’s Kiss and Seokjin just kissed him. What does this mean to Yoongi?

What does it mean to Seokjin?

“I don’t think kisses are supposed to go like that,” Yoongi says, each word coming out with pauses in between them, as if they’re a surprise to Yoongi himself. “I think if it’s supposed to work, it has to be mouth-to-mouth.”

Seokjin wonders if this is what Jungkook saw all of this in premonition. Jungkook had just said kiss and not this embarrassment of a situation. “Aren’t you the witch that casted this charm on himself?” Seokjin asks, trying to joke around. But Seokjin’s been a witch for a long time. He knows that there’s no way to specifically require a True Love’s Kiss to be on the lips. The facts are simple: Yoongi doesn’t love Seokjin back. “Shouldn’t you also know exactly how to reverse it?”

But maybe, just maybe, there’s a piece of Old Magic that Seokjin doesn’t know. Maybe, just maybe, this charm will be reversed by a kiss on the lips. Maybe, just maybe.

Yoongi snorts, which in his cat body is halfway between a growl and a purr. “If I was a decent witch, we wouldn’t even be in this situation.”

Seokjin cups Yoongi’s furry face in one hand, closes his eyes, and tries to not to pay attention to how he’s about to kiss a cat.

The kiss is over in a fraction of a second. Seokjin pulls back and opens his eyes.

And Yoongi is still a cat.

But before the panic and disappointment can settle in, Seokjin blinks and then Yoongi is human and sitting criss-cross on the kitchen table. There’s smoke coming off his clothes in gentle waves. He’s on all fours, still cat-like in his motions. Somehow, he’s still wearing clothes but the fabric is wrinkled and stained, as if he hadn’t changed in weeks. Which, he probably hasn’t. Seokjin never managed to get him into a bath.

Yoongi doesn’t move for a second. Then he stretches out an arm, bending it and then clenching and unclenching his fist. He does this with his other arm, then his legs. He rolls his neck and Seokjin winches at the popping noises that come with the motion.

“So, True Love’s Kiss, huh,” Yoongi says. He holds his hands up to his own face, turning them around again and again to make sure that he’s really human. To make sure that he’s not going to transform back into a cat at any second. He pats the top of his head, runs his hand through his cropped hair. He squeezes his eyes shut and then opens them wide. He licks his lips and then pops them.

Seokjin watches Yoongi get accustomed to his own body again, a flood of relief rushing through him. But with the relief comes a slight edge of apprehension. Yoongi is a human again after all. And there’s only way to break the charm. “Hoseok thinks it’s more like a Mutual Love kind of kiss. He said True Love’s Kiss doesn’t really exist anymore.”

Yoongi nods slowly, taking in the information. He’s still sitting on the table, but he stretches out and yawns. “So… I guess the cat is out of the bag?”

On instinct, Seokjin leans forward and slaps Yoongi on the shoulder, hard enough to make it sting. Yoongi flinches back, surprised. He hisses, or makes a noise as close to a hiss that a human can make. “I can’t believe you just said that. Really? A pun? Now?”

Yoongi rubs his arm, pouting as he does so. “What else am I supposed to say?”

Seokjin shrugs his shoulders. There’s a million things that need to be said. And Seokjin knows where to start. “Shouldn’t you officially confess?”

Yoongi continues to pout. “Shouldn’t you?”

“ I wasn’t the one to turn myself into a cat and not tell anyone the cure.”

“Well I wasn’t the one to initiate the kiss.” Yoongi and Seokjin stare at each other, but Seokjin isn’t going to go down without a fight. They stare and they stare and they stare, like two kids who won’t give in on their game of chicken. Seokjin could do this forever, he thinks, but then he doesn’t have to because Yoongi ducks his head, mumbles something that Seokjin doesn’t quite get, and then blushes.

“I didn’t hear you,” Seokjin says, watching as Yoongi’s flush spreads from the apples of his cheeks to all across his face. This is what Seokjin missed, the easy teasing between them, the enjoyment he got out of making Yoongi react. This, Seokjin and Yoongi being together in the same shared space and just existing . This is what he missed.

“Don’t make me say it again.” Yoongi tries to school his expression into something blank, but he can’t get the redness out of his face.

“Please?”

“I-” Yoongi starts, but then clamps his mouth shut after the first word. “Seokjin,” he tries again. “I love you. Actually, I-uh, I’ve loved you for a long time.”

Kissing Yoongi was one thing. Kissing Yoongi and the charm being lifted was another thing. Hearing Yoongi say I Love You is another thing entirely. Seokjin’s brain short circuits and all he can do in response is gape and try to get a hold of himself.

“Hyung,” Yoongi says. “This isn’t the response I was expecting. Aren’t you supposed to say something sappy now? You’re the one that likes all the grand gestures and shit. And I think kissing me back into being a human is pretty grand.”

“Yoongi,” Seokjin says, leaning forward and grabbing Yoongi’s hand. Yoongi always runs warm and the heat against his own hand is comforting. He squeezes it, hard, and Yoongi yelps in pain. “Did it seriously take you to fuck up a charm to confess? Really? What were you going to do if this never happened? Were you ever going to confess?”

“No?” Yoongi asks tentatively and Seokjin squeezes his hand again before letting it go. Yoongi grabs the offended hand with his other hand and gently massages it. “I didn’t want to risk messing anything up. Beside, I realized I loved you just a year ago.” He’s quiet for a second as he mulls over his words. “You’re my best friend, you know? I didn’t want to risk it. You… mean so much to me.”

Seokjin knows the feeling intimately. With Yoongi, everything feels so simple, everything so easily sliding into place that it’s somewhat frightening. Seokjin didn’t want to be the one to attempt to cross that thin border between platonic and romantic either.

Life with Yoongi in it was worth forcing down all the emotions, making himself content with their intense companionship, and nothing more.

But now he doesn’t have to and Seokjin’s emotions rush out of him like water flooding out of a broken dam. He wraps his arms around Yoongi, putting most of his body weight onto the smaller man as he tries to hold back his tears. “You mean so much to me too.” Seokjin presses a kiss to the top of Yoongi’s greasy hair. He smells like cat and the smell makes Seokjin sneeze. But Seokjin couldn’t be happier. He cries anyway. “I love you too, Yoongi.”

Yoongi buries his head into the crook of Seokjin’s neck. Seokjin hands are around Yoongi’s waist and they hold each other tightly. Seokjin could stay like that forever, with Yoongi pressed against him, but eventually the tickling in his nose and throat becomes too much.

“Jesus,” Seokjin says after sneezing five times in a row. The last sneeze felt like it took a bit of his soul with it. “Go take a shower. Then we can get back to cuddling.”

Yoongi laughs and jumps off the table. “Maybe I should have charmed myself into a cat a long time ago.”

Seokjin rolls his eyes. “Maybe we both shouldn’t have been idiots in the first place.”

Yoongi laughs again as he walks out of the kitchen, throwing his head back and squeezing his eyes shut. Seokjin hears the water turn on and then a second later, his phone is buzzing with the Cardcaptor Sakura theme song that Hoseok set as his ringtone.

“Not a word,” Seokjin answers.

“But it worked, didn’t it?” Hoseok asks. “See, Jungkookie is never wrong with his premonitions.”

“Goodbye, Hoseok,” Seokjin says and he hears Hoseok’s cackling laugh before ending the call.

--

Taehyung holds his hands out in front of him. “You all owe me 50 bucks each. I take cash, card, and Venmo! We are truly living in the 21st century.”

Jungkook, laying on the floor in front of their TV, sighs and takes out his phone. “This isn’t fair. I’m the one who can see the future. I should be winning this.”

“But did you ever see a confession scene?” Taehyung laughs, accepting Jimin’s money with a blinding smile. Jimin sticks his tongue out and then jumps onto the couch, on top of Hoseok who grunts with the sudden weight. “I told you, they were oblivious fuckers.”

“They’ve been dating for months,” Hoseok complains. “And since Jimin is sitting on me, I can’t get to my wallet.”

Taehyung tsks. “But they didn’t know they were dating. So it doesn’t count. And whenever Hoseok-hyung decides to pay up, I finally have enough money to buy the new DSM-10 on magical creatures! Thank you all for your patronage.” Taehyung sits on the edge of the couch and leans over so he’s resting his head on Jimin’s shoulder.

Hoseok huffs. “Did Namjoon bet on this too?”

Taehyung jumps up. “Namjoon! He did! I have to call him and get my money.” Taehyung dashes out of the room, yelling the entire way.

Jimin laughs. “Wanna bet on who’s going to find out about this bet first?” Jimin hums under his breath and then says, “20 to Seokjin-hyung.”

“20 to Seokjin.” Jungkook says, rolling around so he’s facing the ceiling. He squeezes his eyes shut and then opens them again, trying to force a premonition out of his system. (In all the time that he’s been alive, Jungkook has never successfully made himself have a vision. But that doesn’t mean he can’t try.)

“20 to Seokjin,” Hoseok says. “He always knows things.”

Taehyung peeks his head back in the room. “Namjoon-hyung says Seokjin. I say Yoongi.”

Hoseok laughs. “We all have no faith in Yoongi.”

Taehyung puts his phone on speaker and Namjoon’s voice rings out: “He charmed himself into being a cat, Hoseok. Of course we have no faith in him.”

A week later, Taehyung is smiling as his pockets are filled with 80 dollars (metaphorically, since Jungkook and Hoseok both paid through Venmo. Three cheers for money-sharing applications).

And if Taehyung accidentally left his phone out in the group chat discussing the bet for Yoongi to see, well, that doesn’t matter.

Sometimes, things take a little pushing to get rolling.

(Especially when these things involve Yoongi.)