Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The day the boy's mother died, the sky cried, but he did not.

He wasn’t surprised when it happened. He had seen it coming for months now. They both had. The bloodied napkins, the vomit, the hollowing cheeks, it had all led to this. He had cried countless nights before until his eyes were swollen. He didn’t think he had anymore tears left to cry so he let the world rage for him. She always did love the rain, he thought as he stared at his mother who was now covered by a white sheet. When he finally got up from the chair by her bedside, his muscles and bones protested, but that didn’t stop him from heading to the shed and retrieving a shovel. He wasn’t sure when the rain had stopped or how many days had passed, but he knew it was time enough to bury her. She had begun to smell.

His shoes slid over the muddy ground, but he caught himself with a sharp stab of the shovel in the ground. He made his way down to the valley at the base of the hill. The flowers were open, grateful for the sun’s return. He almost smiled. She would love it here.

He dug until he was sure it was deep enough that no animal could ever get to her. She will get to be with her flowers.

He headed back up the slope to their cabin, leaving the shovel behind. He was strong, but the lack of water and food had left him lightheaded and unsteady. He only managed because his mother weighed almost nothing. He lowered her down and quickly covered her with dirt, dropping to his hands and knees to try to rearrange the flowers so they may rest more pleasantly at the head of her grave. He placed a rock larger than his hand near the head. He wanted to carve her name in it so that even when he died one day, there would be at least one other thing left that bore her name. But his hands weren’t steady and he kept cutting his own fingers rather than the stone. He gave up just as the sun began to set.

The forest sang all around him. Cicadas and birds murmured and the trees swayed. He listened to it all carefully as he did most nights. Just as the sun began to fall, he opened his mouth and began to sing.

Chapter Text

The sun was cruel today, scorching Jungkook’s head and leaching energy from his body quicker than he liked. This didn’t stop him from training however. Very little ever did. Today was a combat day, his favorite one. It was the one area where he was indisputably the best, and he liked being the best.

“Are you even trying?” he growled, but a grin was slipping onto his mouth. Sweat rolled against his lips and the delicious feeling of numbness was taking over his limbs. He clutched the hilt of his butterfly sword and cocked his head at Hoseok-hyung who rolled his eyes. They both ignored the small crowd of people that lingered beneath the shade of the arcade, murmuring beside the red wood columns.

“What has gotten you so worked up today?” Hoseok asked. He was just as sweaty as Jungkook, his flaming red hair plastered to his forehead. He shoved a hand back through his hair, not bothering to raise his own sword. He raised a brow at Jungkook, waiting for a reply.

Jungkook clicked his tongue but lowered his sword. Jungkook could be a lot more stubborn than his teacher when he desired to be, but he didn’t mind answering if it meant they could get back to practising sooner. “Namjoonie-hyung is coming back today,” he stated. “He said he would take me and Seokjinnie-hyung to the black forest.”

Hoseok laughed, the sound clear and bright. Whenever his hair shifted, strands of gold mixed within the red caught the sun and he appeared to shine brighter. Hoseok was touched by the sun and he seemed to carry it with him wherever he went. Even on a day like today when the sun felt unbearable and unkind, Hoseok managed to soften it with his own buttery glow. “Today you are official a grown man yet you still wait for your hyung to go out on hunts.”

Jungkook scowled. “It’s a tradition,” he huffed. “Just for that, you are to go with me to help bring back any spirits we kill.”

Hoseok’s face immediately scrunched. “Ya, what do you have servants for?”

Jungkook crossed his arms over his chest. “And what are you?”

Heoseok raised his butterfly sword and wagged it at Jungkook. “You’re ever underpaid servant.”

Jungkook simply smirked and raised his own sword. “Now put up a real fight already.”

***

For the past month, his elder brother had been out on a diplomatic mission. Jungkook, ever eager to learn, had listened carefully when his brother had explained exactly why he was leaving. He had been sent out to eradicate a spirit infestation problem somewhere within the Gyeongsan clan territory. Jungkook had never been there himself, but his brother claimed it was rather beautiful and that the clan was a very important ally to the Yeongju clan which was why their father had sent out Namjoon himself to deal with it. In the letters, Namjoon had written him, he had gone on and on about the beauty of the mountains and the serene meadows within the forests. Namjoon sometimes included bits of poetry that conjured vivid images of the world his brother was seeing, a gift for Jungkook so they could experience it together.

Now, finally, his brother was back, just in time for Jungkook’s birthday. Jungkook cared very little for his birthday. The only thing of importance about the day was the annual hunt he went on with his brothers. It wasn’t the only time they went on hunts together, but it was the only time it was strictly them. (And Hoseok). No partners and no guards. Just them.

The drums signaling Namjoon’s arrival started banging just as Jungkook exited his room. He was running before he knew it. Red columns flew by him, white flags fluttering out between them in the cool wind. He arrived at the courtyard just as Namjoon was dismounting, his robes coming down around him in a flutter. “Hyung!” he exclaimed and his brother snapped his gaze over before grinning brightly.

His brother ruffled his hair, something Jungkook allowed only with him, which was something Seokjin proclaimed was blatant favoritism. “Jungkook-ah, have you been good?”

“Yes, Seokjin-hyung is the one who is giving everyone troubles.”

“Ah, Namjoon returns and within seconds you are already betraying me,” a voice huffed behind Jungkook.

Seokjin smacked the back of Jungkook’s head and Jungkook was ready to slice his neck when Namjoon intervened with a chuckle.

“Seokjin, my favorite eldest brother, how are you?” Namjoon grinned.

“I’m your only elder brother whom you seemed to have forgotten. You leave and I get one measly letter while Jungkook-ah gets dozens.”

“I always write but you never respond!”

“As the eldest, I have the right to ignore your letters. As my younger brother, you have no right to neglect me.”

“That is hardly fair, hyung.” But they all knew Namjoon was going to write Seokjin a letter for every day he was gone as compensation and Seokjin was going to laugh as he threw them all in the fire.

Seokjin and Namjoon continued to bicker, though it was more like Seokjin was scolding him and Namjoon was trying to defend his stance though he was losing miserably. “Welcome back, Noona,” Jungkook said to Seolhyun-noona who had dismounted, but waited patiently for the brothers to reunite before stepping forward. Seolhyun was a few inches shorter than Jungkook, meaning even moreso than Namjoon, but she carried herself with a dignified air and a gentle smile. Despite her being a part of the family for several years now, Jungkook had yet to have a meaningful conversation with her. The smiles they exchanged were polite and kind, but nothing more.

“It is good to be back, Jungkook-ah,” she replied then bowed to Seokjin who inclined his head back, breaking out into a grin. He didn’t know why he couldn’t be like Seokjin and easily get along with anyone that crossed his path.

Jungkook led the way back under the arcade, grateful to finally have both his brothers under the same roof again.

***

Their hunt always changed locations and Jungkook was always in charge of where it took place. This year, he had chosen the Sejun Forest which was known to have things rare beasts the easiest to find. But Jungkook was a part of one of the ten celestial clans. He was born for the sole purpose of hunting these beasts so this year he had desired more of a challenge.

Those the spirits and beasts could exist almost anywhere, they generally tended to live among the forest. Jungkook knew that not all the spirits were evil, but unlike humans, they could easily be corrupted. The very small act of a tree being struck by lightning could corrupt the spirit that had resided in it. A spring drying up could cultivate a mass of evil spirits. The difference between spirits and beasts were that beasts were even harder to corrupt than humans due to their powerful core. However, beasts did not desire to coexist with humans unlike the spirits and thus attacked whenever they had the chance.

The very first time Jungkook had killed a beast, he had been twelve. He had almost died that day, but he didn’t include that in the retelling. As was tradition, every part of the beast was to be reused again with the belief that the warrior could absorb the power it once held. The only part of it that still existed in solid form hung from Jungkook’s neck. It’s eyes had turned to jewels once he had cut out its heart. He had the other one still unrefined and locked away, but the other one, he had refined to fit into a pendant he wore at all times. His father had been the one to slip it over Jungkook’s neck, a proud gleam in his eyes. It was perhaps the first and last time Jungkook had seen that look in his eyes. He tried not to think of what he would have to do if he ever wanted to see it again.
Seokjin and Namjoon weren’t as keen as fighters as Jungkook was, preferring to work with their magic instead. It was easier for them to rely on their magic since both of them had their soulmates. Perhaps it was another reason that they went alone, even if it would make their trip easier. They didn’t want to upset Jungkook. He said he didn’t care. He said a lot of things.

The trip to Sejun Forest took a total of two days. Jungkook was worried that Namjoon was going to be too tired from his trip coming up from the Gyeongsan territory, but he was lively the whole way up, chatting amiable with Seokjin while Hoseok and Jungkook rode a little ways ahead of them.

They left their horses tied at the base of the mountain and entered the forest. The entire forest was thick with moss and sunlight, dwarfed by thick trees and countless little streams. Jungkook peered up into the sunlight and leaves, catching sight of small spirits as they peered down at them. He remembered waving at them when he was younger and them waving back. The scent of magic was heavy in the air and just as intoxicating. He breathed it all in and let out a breath. He twisted in his saddle and said, “Hyu----”

He never got a chance to finish. A scream ripped through the serenity of the morning, so close it reverberated through them like a collective shiver. Jungkook’s nerves jumped on end as he snapped his head forward.

A second later a growl shot out. It was all Jungkook needed to hear. He shot forward, ignoring his brother’s and Hoseok’s exclamations. He didn’t know why he ran so suddenly and so desperately. All he knew was that it was the scream that had jostled him so violently and nothing mattered but the fact that he got there in time.

Chapter Text

Jimin had never truly given his future much thought. He had lived day to day alongside his mother, silent and content. The last part was a lie, but it hadn’t always been one. He wondered if his mother hadn’t told him the truth, if he would have been able to pass the last couple of years in harmony with the forest and his mother. He wanted to resent her. She had implored him to be honest with her several times throughout his life whenever she caught him staring off into the distance. To hate her if he desired, but he couldn’t bring himself to do so.

When he had turned sixteen, his mother had told him about his soulmate. Jimin knew that the mark on his upper arm was shared by someone else in this world. He had known that since he was old enough to remember, but his mother had never truly ventured further into the dynamics of it all. He knew it pained her so he always shifted away from such topics. But that day had been different.

He sat by his mother’s grave for a long time. Long enough that the sun abandoned him and the fireflies came out instead. A few lazily drifted near him, illuminating him with the help of the moon. The night was warm, leaving sweat sticking to his neck and his upper lip. He swiped at the sweat and finally, he got to his feet. His legs took a moment to gain feeling in them again, but once he did, he stumbled back to their cottage with the fireflies and the moon as a guiding light. The cottage was shadows and wood, unwelcoming for the first time that he could remember.

As soon as he entered, he dropped himself against the door. “What will you do now, Jimin?” he whispered. The shadows didn’t answer and he dropped his head back against the wood. His hands closed into fists by his side.

He had two choices.

Stay here. Continue the life he had grown up with. Forage through the forest for berries. Hunt the game. Avoid the beasts. Lay among the spirits. Manage his garden. All these things were so deeply ingrained within him, he barely remembered individual days. This choice meant safety. It meant predictability.

His other choice practically made him want to curl into himself. The fear was much too crippling. But he couldn’t deny the rush that flooded him when he thought of it. He could leave. Nothing was stopping him. Not even his mother’s last wish. She had said he wanted him to do what he felt best. But would leaving be for the best?

They rarely ever went down to the closest village which was a two days’ journey and the trips had always been short and quick. Jimin had been curious however, so his eyes had watched avidly as his mother bartered a few of her meek potatoes for something they needed. Most of the time, the vendors gave her a hard time, but she always had her way in the end so they learned to give in quicker. Jimin never spoke to anyone there, a mixture of fear and nervousness keeping his head bowed. Mostly, no one really paid him much attention, though they did mutter when they thought Jimin couldn’t hear. They didn’t know where Jimin and his mother came from since neither of them provided that information, but they definitely didn’t believe that they were from the mountain. They tended to mutter nasty things and if his mother heard, she never acknowledged it, always coming in quickly and leaving just as quick.

What would they say if they saw him enter the shop alone this time? Would they finally speak to him? Would they ask where his mother was?

Eomma...

Even if she had said he could leave, he knew suddenly that he couldn’t bring himself to do so. Her body was here. Her things were here. How could just board it all up and leave it in the hands’ of time and nature?

He shook his head and pushed off the door. He couldn’t leave. He wouldn’t.

***

A week passed. Jimin managed the work that usually his mother would help him complete with relative ease. She had been bedridden for so long, he had already gotten accostumed to it. In fact, his days were easier without having to look after a sick person. He immedateily flushed with guilt as soon as the thought passed his mind and he dug harder into the soil, frustrated once more.

His hoe had just struck the soft earth when suddenly he heard a scream rip through the stillness of the morning. He dropped his tool and snapped his head up in the direction it had come from. It belonged to a human. There were only one type of human that dared to come up the mountain.

Hunters.

He should leave it alone. He knew he should. His mother always said that hunters understood what they were coming up here for. They should be left to their fate. But this was the first time he was hearing one of them. Before there was only the remnants of a fight. Blood, broken arrows, scorched trees. But---

A loud roar tore Jimin from his thoughts then suddenly he was moving. He had always been cautious when venturing into the forest. He understood the forest was not his. There were certain trees to avoid. Certain paths he shouldn’t take. He understood, but he, in that moment, could think of nothing else other than the thought that he did not want to bury another body.

He stumbled on the last step and almost fell against a tree, but he had arrived and what he saw was not a pretty sight.

Blood splattered across the vibrant vegetation.

Corpses strewn across the forest floor.

A wolf as tall as Jimin was advancing on a man who was on the ground, a hand clutching his side where blood trickled out of him. His face was white and covered in sweat, his eyes wide, but as soon as Jimin broke into the scene, his gaze snapped to him and he yelled, “Help!”

Before Jimin could do anything, the wolf leapt and Jimin tore his eyes away only for them to land on another young man who had just sprinted out from the trees, eyes wide, sword drawn. “No!” Jimin yelled and his eyes snapped to him. “Get out of here!”

The boy barely had a chance to blink before the wolf yanked its head up from where it had been tearing at the young man’s throat.

JImin didn’t think. He didn’t know what possessed him. One moment he was watching the wolf turn to the newcomer, the next Jimin was facing the frightening creature, arms outstretched to the side, a barrier of flesh. “No,” he cried and the wolf jerked back as struck by his words, but soon enough it was peeling its lips back in a snarl.

What do you mean ‘no,’ little human? she asked, her voice whispering through his mind, almost cooing as if she were amused. But the menacing crimson smeared across her pristine white fur upset any idea that she might be docile. The black pit that sat in the center of her golden irises bore into him like a physical piercing presence working to cut him open.

“He didn’t hurt you,” Jimin blurted out. His arms were trembling, but he refused to drop them.

So? He is one of them...

“Are these men yours?” Jimin demanded, not looking back to the boy, not daring to look back. When he didn’t answer, Jimin knocked his elbow back, connecting with his side. “Answer me.” His voice came out breathless, but sharp. His heart was pounding so loudly he was afraid he might miss his answer.

“No.” His voice was quiet, but firm. He didn’t sound as afraid as Jimin thought he ought to feel, but he didn’t linger on it. Instead, he directed his next words to the wolf. His attention had never wavered and neither had his gaze. “See? He isn’t with them. He has done you no harm, Shiba.”

Shiba laughed, but it was barely three short bursts of air that sent a brush of bloody warmth over Jimin. He is a skilled hunter. He has killed plenty. She took a step forward and every muscle in Jimin’s body tensed, his nails biting into his palms, but he stood his ground. She chuckled once more. So are you claiming him then? What of his friends?

He was started by the sudden arrival of others, signaled by the swift crunch of footsteps and he new Shiba wouldn’t hold back if---

“Stay still,” the boy from before said, his voice clear and cool and it went silent behind them again.

“Jun----”

The boy hushed them and Shiba tilted her head.

“I claim them all,” Jimin snapped back.

As if you can protect them all. Do you think you can take me?

“I will if I must.” No, he didn’t think he could. He would die and maybe the spirits would have pity on him and bury his by his mother’s. That was considering that Shiba left anything of him.

She threw her head back and let out a barking laugh that sent a tremor through Jimin, threatening to turn his muscles to water. She finally swung her head back down, baring her teeth once more in a feral grin. Just like your mother. Ugly and cumbersome . . . Fine, I will let you have your little toys, but if we cross paths once more, I will not be so lenient. With that, she turned slowly and grabbed the nearest corpse to her and drag it after her, leaving a sickening trail of gore in her wake.

Slowly, the sound returned to the forest. The birds began to titter and the trees began to bristle. Woodland creatures skittered beneath the bush as a breeze rustled over the branches and over Jimin’s skin, cooling the beads of sweat that covered his face and body. He dropped his arms and sucked in a tight breath, almost choking on how greedily he pulled in the air.

“Were you speaking to it?”

Jimin jumped and whirled around. He took several steps back, his eyes quickly taking in the four strangers. His gaze jumped from their identical expressions of confusion and wariness, to their swords with matching red tassels. Their hanboks. . . though they were plain, the embroidery on the sleeves were intricate and rich. These were not ordinary people.

“Ah, Namjoon-ah, you’re scaring the poor boy with your scary face,” one of them exclaimed, his voice coming out impossibly loud.

The other man looked flustered. “Wh-What did I do?”

“So were you?” It was the first boy. The one Jimin had rushed to save. He was watching Jimin, big doe eyes watching him with a sense of wonder and bewilderment. His lips spread into a smile when

Jimin nodded. “I have never known someone could do that.”

“How did you do that though?” It was the young man from before, the one who had been scolded. He was the tallest with inquisitive eyes that seemed to pierce Jimin’s very being.

Namjoon. That was what the other one had called him.

“I. . . She taught me,” he murmured.

Eyebrows flew up and the last one with the flaming red hair said, “Really?” his voice pitching up in disbelief.

“I----” He shook his head. He was getting distracted. It was much too easy to do so. They were something he had never seen before. Not in the village and not even among the corpses he helped his mother bury. Their clothing was too fine, their demeanors much too strange. “You can’t stay here. Shiba won’t let it go this easily. You must leave.”

“What are you doing here?” It was the doe-eyed boy again, except his eyes were no longer wide in wonder. His brow was furrowed, his dark eyes making Jimin wish to retreat just as much as they intrigued him.

“I live here, now please will you leave!”

But none of the boys seemed all that interested in Jimin’s frantic exclamations. They were all sharing looks between each other as if Jimin were some spectacle to behold. Finally, the doe-eyed boy spoke again. “Where do you live exactly?”

“Why does it matter?” It hit him suddenly that perhaps he should be wary of them. What sane person wished to linger after they had nearly been mauled to death? He had already established they were not normal hunters and though he had never been taught to be weary of hunters directly, he knew they were the reason his mother had left civilization in the first place. The reason why Jimin was here.

To get away from them to be exact.

“This place isn’t exactly safe,” the red-haired boy piped up. “We are simply curious and a little worried.” The last part struck Jimin dumb.

“Maybe he’s a crazy,” the other boy muttered. He was tall as well with broad shoulders and plump pink lips. He even tried to cover his mouth as he muttered to Namjoon, but he was easily heard.

“You think?” the red haired boy muttered back.

Jimin frowned. “I’m not crazy.”

“Ah, look you made him pout,” the red-haired boy crowed, but he was grinning and sounded much too happy about it.

“Are you crazy?” Jimin demanded, throwing his hands up. “Do you wish to tempt fate?!”

“Do you live by yourself?” Again it was the doe-eyed boy.

“No.” He stepped back. “Fine, if you wish to stay then I won't stand in your way.”

He was just about to step away when the boy jumped and said, “Wait!” Jimin stopped and looked back at the boy. His seemed a little surprised at his own outburst. At this rate, they were drawing too much attention to themselves. “I, uh, we. . . we don’t know the way back.”

“Hu----”

“Please will you help us!” The boy dropped into a deep bow that left Jimin shocked and frozen to the spot. His friends seemed to share the same sentiment, but eventually, the red haired and the wide shouldered man followed suite. Namjoon grumbled but mimicked his friends as well.

Jimin just stared until the wide shouldered one peeked up. “Are you going to just let us hang here all day? Well? Will you help us?"

Chapter Text

The strange young man watched them for a long moment. It wasn’t hard to read the expressions on his face. It wasn’t as if he made any attempt to hide them. He was hesitant and wary which was understandable enough. His eyes trailed over their little group and lingered on Jungkook. Jungkook held his gaze, but within seconds, the strange boy’s gaze ran away. “Why should I help you?” His brow was furrowed a bit, but his tone was not harsh. He glanced at Jungkook once more, but just like before, he turned his eyes to the trees instead. Jungkook supposed that living in Sejun Forest of all places would result in a few oddities in a person. He found himself intrigued by it. So intrigued that he forgot that he should be the one to answer as it was his rash proclamation that had gotten them into this situation.

Luckily, his hyung stepped in. 

“You wouldn’t have gone through all that trouble just to leave us to die here,” Namjoon said and the boy’s brow furrowed, but Jungkook knew they had him. The boy for all his harsh words moments before had rushed in to save Jungkook---even if Jungkook hadn’t needed any help. He wasn’t about to leave them like this. He wasn’t sure what made him so confident about this.

He was lucky his hyungs didn’t try to call out his obvious lie. They were deep in the forest, sure, but they could find their way out... eventually. There was a bit of apprehension that they might run into more trouble along the way, but they had come here just for that and it would be a shame to leave without a kill. But he knew that wasn’t the main reason. He didn’t want this strange boy to slip away just yet and it seemed his hyungs were willing to humor him for now.

“How can I know to trust you?”

“No harm will come to you so long as you lead us down to safety.” Jungkook said, raising his chin, taking a step forward. The young man’s gaze instantly caught it, but did not match a step backwards. Yet. “We swear on the Kim clan name.”

The boy’s eyes widened a bit. “Kim clan?”

Jungkook smiled to himself, pride swelling in his chest. So even a mountain hermit like him knew their name. His satisfaction was short-lived. The name seemed to have the opposite effect. Gone was the curious suspicion. Now, those soft eyes hardened as he took a step back then another, shaking his head.

“I don’t---”

“Please,” Jungkook blurted out. What was wrong with him today? Why was he acting so foolish in front of this stranger? His cheeks burned, but he refused to break eye contact. “Help us and you will forever be in our favor.” He could feel his hyungs’ eyes on him. That was quite the promise, he knew that. The Kim word was not to be thrown around so lightly especially for something they didn’t necessarily need. Sure, this stranger could provide safe and easy passage back down the mountain, but they could work their way down themselves. It would take longer and they would have to fight whatever crossed their path, but they could make it.

The boy didn’t seem all that impressed however  which frustrated Jungkook further. “What do you desire? Money? Jewels? Name it and we will give it to you.”

“J---”

“Fine!” The boy glanced quickly around them. It seemed he feared more beasts appearing despite his previous bravery. Jungkook had already picked up on the fact that he wore no weapon, not even a dagger. The fact that he was here without one only heightened Jungkook’s curiosity until he could just barely contain all the questions clambering at his teeth. “I will lead you down . . .” Worry swarmed his eyes and a bit of it bled into Jungkook. He eyed the forest as well, just for a moment, before his focus snapped back to the boy as he turned from them. “Come on.”

Jungkook shared a glance with his hyungs. Namjoon raised a brow. “I hope you know what you’re doing,” he said and Jungkook wished he could respond with a confident “yes.” His hyung sighed, shaking his head. “Okay, let’s go.”

***

Jimin’s heart was pounding so hard, he was sure the others could hear it. 

It can’t be. It couldn’t.

He walked quickly and swiftly, hoping that his pace would keep a good distance between him and the others and it seemed to work for a little bit. Even still, he could hear them murmuring to each other. As much as he wanted to ignore them entirely, he consciously slowed a bit in hopes of catching a few phrases.

It can’t be.

“So...how come the Beast taught you to speak its tongue?” a voice piped up.

Jimin glanced over his shoulder. It was the red-haired one. The four men were several paces back as if trying to respect his blatant desire for space. They stopped as soon as Jimin did. He quickly snapped his gaze away when he caught the doe-eyed boy’s gaze. Why won’t he stop staring at me? A part of him reasoned that it was the same reason the villagers stared at him when they thought he wasn’t looking. But there was none of that hostility. If he weren’t wearing a sword as well as daggers, Jimin would have almost thought him harmless. But no, no creature who ventured into this land was harmless. The quicker he was rid of their presence, the better off they would be. “My eomma saved her once. Years ago.”

“Why would she do that?” His voice felt disturbingly loud as if the forest had hushed itself in order to listen. His rational mind knew that the young man was actually whispering, but whenever he and his mother had gone out foraging, they had done so in silence. If ever they had spoken outside of home, they always brought their mouths to ears, cautious of letting a whisper escape. Their existence here had been tenuous at best. His eomma’s death had been the first tip in the scales. These strangers threatened to overthrow it entirely.

“My eomma knew that if she saved her, she would be in debt for life.”

“So you and your eomma are allowed to live here safely?”

Jimin turned swiftly, resuming his trek, making sure to increase his pace. “Yes,” he said quietly.

“Why would you want that?”

He sighed, carefully stepping over a small stream. Little spirits dug through the muddy bank, rolling up mud balls. They paused to watch them go. “Perhaps we don’t like nosy people.”

That finally got the desired effect. For several moments, they went along in silence. Sweat built up on Jimin’s forehead and neck. Even beneath the thick canopy, the humidity of summer was pervasive. He should have been back home by now, resting during the hottest part of the day. Only now he was making a trip he shouldn’t have to with no water or food. He wiped his chin with the back of his hand.

“Where is your eomma?”

Jimin jumped in his skin at the sound of the doe-eyed boy’s voice. Was he closer? “Around,” he mumbled.

“Huh?”

“Speak properly,” another scolded, followed by the sound of a hand smacking a head.

“ Ow. ”

Jimin glanced over his shoulder to see the pair glaring at each other. He wondered if they were brothers. They didn’t look enough like each other for him to truly say so, but they seemed to act how he assumed brothers acted. It filled Jimin with something heavy that only made the trip harder.

They all seemed to sense the incoming danger at the same time, all five of them coming to a halt. Jimin scanned the trees, all senses sharpening to take everything in at once. Behind him, the four men drew their swords, but Jimin quickly gestured them down. “Let me----”

“Watch out!”

A snarl ripped through the air just as a lean body launched itself from the foliage. Before Jimin could react, the glint of sun off metal sparked across his vision and the beast howled as it went down, spraying hot blood against Jimin’s face as it did. Suddenly, Jimin was being blocked by a figure who just so happened to be the youngest Kim. There wasn’t a chance to exchange a word as the assault began.

The beasts descended upon them in a rush of dark antlers and razor teeth. Sparks of gold and bronze erupted to the right of his vision and suddenly they were surrounded by a hazy gold shimmer. The antlered beast---clearly one of the ishhi ---slammed against the apparition only to send a shower of sparks as soon as their bodies connected. Jimin whipped his gaze to the side to see the red-haired man with his hands raised, eyes consumed by an unearthly glow. His brow was furrowed and his teeth were clenched tightly. “Damn, they almost got us,” he gritted out.

“There’re more than ten of them,” Namjoon observed, sword raised as the ishhi learned quickly to be wary of the ward. Two of them had hit into the ward, leading to scorched fur and bubbling skin. The one the young Kim had cut down lay on the floor, ignored by its fellow beasts.

“They always hunt in groups,” Jimin explained. “If we don’t get rid of them soon, more beasts will be drawn by our scent, so just let----”

“Hoseok, put the wards down,” the young Kim snapped. “We can take them.”

The red-haired man---Hoseok---let out a sharp growl then whipped his hands to the side, the light falling from his eyes like a candle going out. Chaos descended just as quick as the ward fell. Jimin barely registered the ishhi lunging until the young Kim had already struck it down with his sword. “Stay back,” he hissed, whirling away before Jimin could even formulate a response.

All around him, the Kims were twirling their swords, their skills apparent with every strike and response. But no matter how quick or skilled they were, the ishhi were relentless and clever. They knew to be wary of Hoseok quickly as he could spark wards with a blink of an eye, using them as a scorching blunt force without ever getting close. But they easily outnumbered their group, surrounding them within seconds. Jimin had never held a weapon. It was one of his mother’s principles. The beasts didn’t hurt them so as a sign of peace, they hadn’t carried weapons with them. Even if there were human intruders, they were generally killed by Shiba and her kin or whatever other beast got there first. 

But a sword wasn’t the only weapon that could be used. 

They had to end this quickly or the situation would get worse, even with the death of the ishhi . Ishhi were like children compared to the things that dwelled in the forest. He would rather they not wake up due to a battle going on too long.

He caught sight of a second beast coming for the young Kim’s side just as he got his sword locked within another beast’s mouth. A surge of fear washed over him and before he could register it, his hand whipped out, slicing through the air. A scythe of wind cut through everything surrounding their group, sending every single beast flying backwards, hanboks snapping with the force of the blow. Some cracked their spines against the nearest trees while others were flung further out, bodies scraping over the forest floor. Jimin barely had time to register his own shock. He had only meant to throw a few of them back, not kill them. The closest struggled to its feet just as Jimin spoke. 

“These humans are mine,” Jimin snapped. “Shiba had already pardoned them so unless you wish to feel Shiba’s wrath, I suggest you walk away.”

Humans. Humans, they are humans. Shiba does not protect them, they hissed, each voice coming out a tick behind the previous. They were not high beasts like Shiba, so they did not think individually. They inched closer once more, their claws curling into the earth, silver eyes glittering. They were as hideous as they were enchanting. You lie. They began stepping forward once more, but it was clear they were hesitant, testing Jimin’s resolve. It had always been his mother who stood in front after all.

“Do you truly wish to test it?” he demanded. He wasn’t afraid of the ishhi as much as he was afraid of Shiba. He knew what he said was a lie. Shiba may have pardoned them, but she would not care if they were killed by one of the other beasts. They didn’t need to know this. “Come then.”

“What----”

Jimin didn’t spare the other boy a glance, shrugging off his hand, holding eye contact with the closest beast. Its eyes, like twin silver coins, bore into him, unreadable and vacant. He needed them to leave now . Even if these beasts were hive minded, at least they could speak. Other lesser beasts without speech would only lead to bloodshed. 

A long moment stretched out, then the beast swung its head and limped into the foliage, its companions following after. Even after the last one had limped out of view, their group remained still, listening, waiting.

“What the hell was that?” the young Kim demanded, suddenly before Jimin, eyes flashing. For a moment, he thought he saw a flicker of cinders flare within his gaze. 

“To survive in this forest is to never back down,” Jimin cut back, his anger flaring once more. How dare he be angry with him for saving his and his clansmen’s lives? “Not everything must be solved by brandishing a sword.”

“They’re beasts . They do not know reason so I apologize if my first instinct is to defend myself and my brothers,” he replied hotly.

“Jungkook, stop,” Namjoon cut in, his voice coming out quiet and gentle. “There is no use in arguing over this. He obviously understands the forest and the beasts better than we do.”

“ Don’t use your magic against me,” the boy snapped, but Jimin was no longer listening.

Jungkook.

Namjoon had said “Jungkook.” 

Jungkook of the Kim clan. 

Suddenly, the little coincidences started tumbling together to form the truth he was looking at now. The clothing, the high level of skill, the presence of three similar looking men---brothers, of course----and all from the Kim clan. Jimin knew very little of the world outside the first, but there was one thing he knew the most about and that was this specific clan. There were three brothers, and the second eldest was a man named Namjoon, but he had been desperate to believe it might not be him before, but he could no longer deny it now. The other man must be Kim Seokjin. Which meant this man before him was none other than Kim Jungkook, the third son of the Yeonjun Kim clan. 

The man who just so happened to also be his soulmate.

Chapter Text

For as long as he could remember, Jimin had lived in the seonmyeonghan ttang . That was what the beasts and the spirits called the forest they all called home, but Jimin had never used the term unless speaking to one of them which he rarely ever did. Growing up in a place woven from such boundless beauty was not easy. Even under Shiba’s protection, survival was hard won. Food was not easy to find after all. Normal animals were easily outnumbered by the beasts, so hunts often went unsuccessful. They had to fight tooth and nail to even cultivate a small garden in the back of their house. Foraging was difficult since half of one’s attention had to remain on the forest or else one would find themselves hopelessly lost.

In the end, they had learned to persevere and survive in a land that did not want them. Even though Jimin never asked his mother why they lived in the forest, she hadn’t hidden the reason from him. We are hiding, Jimin. Hiding from something we are not ready for. He could not comprehend how there was something his mother was not prepared for. She was always prepared for everything. Even as she lay dying, she was prepared. Jimin hadn’t been, despite everything she had done to prepare him for it. He felt he disappointed her in the end.

It wasn’t until he turned sixteen that she had gone into the exact details of what they were hiding from. She had sat him down one day, a serious look in her eyes. His mother had a tendency to fall into bouts of intense seriousness, something that was not easy to avoid in their life, but she always managed a smile for Jimin. This time she tried for a smile, but it wavered and she quickly abandoned the effort, instead reaching for his hands. They were cold and rough and familiar around his own. “Jimin-ah,” she had said, squeezing his hands. “I need to tell you something.”

“What. . . What is it?” It was much later in the day, but Jimin could tell something had been bothering her all day. All week. In fact, something had been bothering her for a long while now, but its presence had become slowly more prominent as the days went by, almost as if her worry were a third person entirely, a parasite feeding off of her. 

“I have only kept this secret because I wished to wait until you matured so that you may go on and make a proper decision based on your own beliefs.”

Secret.

It was all Jimin managed to register before she rushed on. “Before you were born, I worked in the household of a very affluent family. The Kim family to be exact.” 

The name meant nothing to him. “The Kim? Wh---”

She shook her head. “Let me finish and I will answer everything, my son.” She sighed. “They are one of the celestial families, said to be given powers from the very gods. People worship the very ground they walk upon.” His mother shifted her gaze to the window over Jimin’s shoulder. “Working within the household, I was privy to things most never saw. I didn’t know Kim Hyungwon, but I did come to know his wife, Kim Eunah, very well as I was assigned to care for her. She would come to me crying some nights, before she was wed. She would unload on me all her troubles of trying to live up to the Kim name. The clan leader at the time wasn’t pleased when he found out his eldest son’s soulmate was skilled to enchant through her dance.'

'He wanted another warrior to add to his family’s legacy. He saw enchantments as a waste of time and dancing to be a whore’s skill. Eunha would practice for hours, until her feet bled and she had no more blood to give, just so she may not give him more reason to despise her. I can say with certainty that she feared the old man with her life. She would collapse into my arms and I would have to drag her body to her bed. She was as limp as the dead and wouldn’t stir until the morning. He had her perform in front of crowds of rooms to showcase her skill, not allowing one mistake. If the crowd did not look utterly enraptured by her playing, he would punish her.”

“Why did Hyungwon not do anything? Is he not also her soulmate?”

His mother shook her head. “As he saw it, it was a test of endurance that every Kim must pass. He saw it as a rite of passage. He did not see the way it almost killed her. Or he chose not to see. She hid it so well from him. I would help her make up her face and set the table for late night visits where the lighting was dim so he may not notice her condition. They weren’t allowed to see each other often either. Not until she had proven herself and they were bound and married. That didn't even happen until the old clan head had passed. He never did approve of her in the end. I remained her maid even after she married. I was honored when she stood up to her husband for the right to keep me since I had been married to your abeoji.” He could tell with one look in his mother’s eyes that she had loved this woman passionately. This woman named Eunha that he had never met nor heard of before. “We passed many years happily. It seemed with the death of the clan leader, happiness was returned to the clan. When I found out of your existence, I could not help but feel as if light had returned to me.”

For the first time in his life, Jimin found tears pooling in his mother’s eyes. They shimmered like crystals, unshed and glittering. Her eyes curved into a crescent smile as she brushed his face softly. “My sweet Jimin-ah, the night you were born was one of the brightest nights of my life. . . We spent almost two good years together in the Kim household. The elder brothers of the house even played with you whenever they had the chance. The whole household was in an uproar when it was announced that Eunha was with her third child. It had been so long after all. My excitement rivaled that of when I had learned of you. Yet. . . the night her youngest was born, for Eunha and for me, it became one of our darkest. You see. . . the Mark you have---” She placed a hand on his upper arm. “----it matched that of the youngest Kim.”

Jimin didn’t move, yet it felt as though every nerve in his body had jumped. A cold shiver went down his body. “You mean. . .?”

She nodded, her eyes closing, head bowing. “I was afraid of what would happen to you. That the same thing that happened to Eunha would happen to you. I did not want the same fate for you. Eunha may have loved her husband, but I saw the cruelties he was capable of, just like his abeoji. We knew they would take you from me and twist everything about you until you were to their liking and I could not bare it, Jimin! I had already lost your father. I panicked. I left that very night, when I realized that Hyungwon had found out about the Marks. Hyungwon must have fabricated different events of that night. According to him, you and I died that night. He had too much pride to admit that I would dare run away with you. I don’t know if he ever stopped looking for us. You must understand that I did it for you, only for you, so that you may grow up with a semblance of choice. I could not let them take away your choice.”

Her wane smile dwindled as she fixed Jimin with her sad eyes once more. “But I only later realized that by giving you a choice, I had taken one from that young boy. He would grow up with the thought that his soulmate was dead, poisoned most likely by his abeoji. But I could not return. Eunha had died that very night and I knew without her, Hyungwon would not be good for you. In an attempt to assuage my own guilt, I promised myself that when you were old enough, I would tell you all of this and allow you to make your decision. The Kims wished to take it from you before you were even born. Now, I wish to return it to you and hope you find it in yourself to forgive me.”

“Eomma, no----don’t bow your head to me, please, I---” He couldn’t find the words to say. “Eomma, I----”

“Please, Jimin, I understand. Do not rush your forgiveness nor your decision.”

What decision? To go to the Kims and offer himself up? Let himself be manipulated like Eunha? 

Another part of him hurried to contradict himself. 

But your soulmate. . . he’s there. . . waiting.

I’m dead to him. He isn’t waiting for anyone.

But you can resurrect yourself for him.

What about me? Sacrifice myself for a stranger?

Sacrifice myself for my soulmate.

But what is the difference?

There wasn’t one.

At least that’s what he had thought. But now, his soulmate was standing in front of him, still a stranger, but suddenly much more real and overwhelming than the mere thought his existence had been confined to for years. A physical presence was much harder to manage and much harder to avoid. Now that he had seen and acknowledged him, how did he expect himself to forget and remain here? When Jungkook had only existed as a thought, a flightful temptation that only ever invaded his mind when his walls were lowered for sleep, it had been easy to allow himself an indulgent moment of thought once in a while. A tiny little “what if...” 

This , however, was not an indulgence. This was a destruction.

Chapter Text

“ Don’t use your magic against me,” Jungkook snapped.

Namjoon looked slightly taken aback. “I’m sorry, Guk, I didn’t realize I was----”

Jungkook snapped his gaze back to the boy who had managed to inflame his anger so easily. He stabbed a finger at the boy’s chest. “Stop putting yourself between us and danger. In case you haven’t noticed, we are trained warriors. We wouldn’t have come here if we couldn’t handle a little confrontation.”

The boy didn’t respond. In fact, he seemed to simply be staring at Jungkook, his eyes wide. He was afraid. Jungkook immediately withdrew his hand, a hand fluttering to his eyes subconsciously.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, a little annoyed at this reaction. “I’m not going to hurt you, am I?”

The boy shook his head and then suddenly he was walking away, back up the way they had come.

“Way to go, Jungkook,” Seokjin sighed. “You angered him. Let’s just----Jungkook-ah! What are you----Namjoon, get a hold of him!”

But Jungkook wasn’t paying attention to his brothers as he rushed after the mysterious boy. He seemed to realize he was being followed for he whirled around and yelled, “Stop following me!” Jungkook would not admit that a shiver of fear ran through his body at the look in his eyes. His eyes were a storming gray, his dark bangs fluttering over his lashes. But the way his hands trembled managed to break the facade of rage. Jungkook took a defiant step forward.

“No,” he said before he could consult his brain.

The boy’s face contorted as his brows flew up. He was really trembling now, from rage, from fear, Jungkook didn’t know. “No?”

Jungkook took another step forward and the boy seemed to realize what he was trying to do and just like that he was running. Jungkook didn’t even hesitate to chase after him. Chase after him? Why was he chasing him? What had possessed him?

“Jungkook!” Namjoon cried. “What are you doing?”

What am I doing?

Jungkook didn’t stop however. Very little could ever really bring Jungkook to stop once he started something. Even if it was mindlessly chasing after a stranger through ancient and dangerous woods with no sense of where he may be leading them. “Wait! Please, stop!”

He didn’t think it would actually work, but suddenly the boy came to a grinding halt, so quick that Jungkook didn’t have time to stop himself in time. Their collision was painful, sending them both to the floor. Jungkook landed half on the boy and half off, getting a mouthful of dirt and moss for his carelessness. He quickly recovered his senses and hopped to his feet, remaining in a crouch as he watched the other slowly push his way up into a sitting position. There was a leaf sticking out of his dark hair. He was rubbing his head which had smashed into Jungkook’s eye socket which was currently throbbing painfully. He ignored the pain as well as his brothers.

“I’m sorry,” he said and the boy’s eyes snapped over to him. His muscles tensed, posed to get up and run as if Jungkook were some sort of beast. But he didn’t run. His eyes just remained stuck on Jungkook for the longest time. He couldn’t find it in himself to be uncomfortable even if he wasn’t a fan of eye contact. The boy was beautiful in a strange and quiet way as if he were from a dream, the ones right before waking, the ones that felt familiar yet intangible. But he was very real and very solid. He had the pain to prove that.

“You have to leave.”

Jungkook blinked.

“I wasn’t supposed to kill.” It was almost as if he were talking to himself, but his eyes never strayed from Jungkook. Finally. As if now, he could take in Jungkook entirely. 

“Kill?” he echoed. “The beasts you mean?”

The boy nodded slowly. “It was one of the agreements Shiba had settled on. I . . . I just broke the balance.”

They didn’t have to ask what would happen once Shiba found out. “Come with us,” Jungkook blurted out.

“Jungkook----” Seokjin began, but Jungkook already shook his head, twisting to face his eldest brother.

“No, we can’t leave him here. He helped us twice already.”

Seokjin frowned, but he said nothing.

“Jungkook,” Namjoon said. “May we have a word?”

Jungkook hesitated. He looked back to the boy. “Stay here,” he ordered and the boy looked unamused, but didn’t make an immediate effort to shoot away. Jungkook warily straightened himself out and let his brother lead him away. Hoseok remained by the boy, crouching down to take Jungkook’s place, a gentle smile on his lips, fingers lacing together. Hoseok began conversing in soft tones and for some reason, this managed to loosen the tension in the boy’s frame. Jungkook wasn't surprised.

A snap sounded right by Jungkook’s ear and he jerked his gaze to his brother. Namjoon wasn’t amused. “Jungkook, what has gotten into—”

“I agree with Jungkook,” Seokjin said. Both of them looked at the eldest in bewilderment. He huffed. “You heard him. He’s broken the pact or promise or whatever. He has no weapons on him. I’m guessing this promise was the only thing keeping him alive. He will be dead by morning.” He glanced back at Hoseok and the boy. “Now, I can’t, in good conscience, leave him here.”

“And if he doesn’t agree?” Namjoon sighed. “He’s already run once. I don’t think he’s entirely sound. Or that he’s as harmless as you make him out to be.”

Jungkook would have to agree with that. He had seen that scythe of wind the boy had conjured, the way it had turned the hairs on Jungkook’s skin, leaving the fresh scent of magic on his tongue. “Well, we aren’t leaving him,” Jungkook declared.

“So you will throw him over your back then?”

“If I must.”

Namjoon let out a breath. “Look, Jungkook, this isn’t a stray dog or bird with a broken wing. This is a real person who—”

“Needs our help,” Seokjin cut in. Jungkook rarely saw his brother this serious, but there was a hardness to his gaze as he regarded Namjoon. “Now, we don’t have time to dissect Jungkook’s soft heart. We will discuss what to do with him after we are out of the forest, yes?”

Namjoon nodded and Seokjin patted his shoulder before turning to the others with a flourish. “Good news, little flower! We have come to unanimous agreement that we will be taking you with us.”

The boy frowned as Hoseok straightened himself out, grinning. He was still on the ground so he stared up at them. “I never said I wished to go with you.”

Namjoon made a sound. 

“You won’t survive here by yourself,” Jungkook exclaimed. “Please we have already given you our word. We will protect you and bring you somewhere safe.” 

“Whatever you decide, consider it quickly,” Namjoon added. There wasn’t a trace of his brother’s magic in his voice. He had long ago tuned his ears to pick up on the soft nuances that most couldn’t pick up in his brother’s voice. Not even his father was always aware of when his brother was using his magic. Namjoon always looked amused when Jungkook pointed it out. 

Whatever monologue the boy led within his mind, it was a fierce one. His brow furrowed and his fingers clenched the soil. It felt like an eternity, but it was only a moment later when he released his fists and looked up to Namjoon. “Okay.”

***

They all decided that it would be better if Jimin left his things behind, even if it broke his heart to do so. The little accumulation of objects he had allowed himself to collect over the years were the only true things he owned. They had already wasted time with their little chase. He knew Shiba would figure it out before they were out of the forest. The others would know first and they wouldn’t wait for Shiba before they attacked. He didn’t understand. He was the reason they were going to be targeted even more harshly, yet they were the most insistent on keeping him. He refused to think of why Jungkook was so adamant, but he didn’t understand the others. Was it really because it was what their brother wanted? Or that they wished their consciences to be clear? They were ruthless warriors who had come to Jimin’s home to participate in mindless murder. They were Kim. He didn’t understand.

They all moved quickly. Jimin was used to traveling fast and quiet, his nimble feet carrying him almost silently. The others had no trouble, showing proof of their warrior status. They all remained ready with one hand on their pommels, gazes quick and alert. They were closer to the bottom of the mountain, their movements becoming more hurried at the aspect of reaching safety sooner. They jerked to a stop at the sound of a twig snapping. Five pairs of eyes scanned the lush emerald of the world around them. 

Ten seconds went by. 

A bead of sweat rolled down the side of Jimin’s face and he licked his lips.

Seokjin raised his hand. It hovered there for a moment then he jerked his fingers. They moved on.

They went forward several more feet when again they came to an abrupt halt. This time they didn’t have to wait long for the assault. It became rather apparent that these four belonged to the Kim clan and their status as hunters was well earned. Jimin did not understand how each of their movements could be so ruthless yet . . . elegant. Death was not beautiful, but they made the act of killing look alluring. Jimin felt he might be sick.

A hand closed around his own, slick with sweat and blood, and he snapped his gaze to meet Jungkook’s. “Come on,” he said and tugged Jimin forward. They no longer tried for silence. Hoseok and Seokjin unloaded arrow after arrow as they ran, stopping only long enough to take down a beast with their startling accuracy.

“We won’t make it!” Namjoon yelled, several feet ahead of them where more low-ranking beasts began to converge.

Jungkook came to an abrupt halt, yanking Jimin to a stop as well. He released Jimin’s hand, a loss Jimin noticed a moment before he registered the beasts closing in on them from all sides. Even through the ward Hoseok had erected between them and the beasts, Jimin caught sight of none other than Shiba leading a small pack of her own kin. Her lips peeled back into a monsterous grin. 

You should have killed them all she snarled. No survivors to tell the tale.

Jimin knew that the time for words was over. He had brought this upon himself. All because he wanted to save Jungkook. Even before he had tried to save Jungkook, he should have made it clear to the others that they should let him speak first and attack second. He should have done many things differently, he knew that now. He could have let the ishhi attack Jungkook. He should have let Jungkook attack Shiba. His brothers were right there. They would have helped before anything went too far. Jungkook would have been fine. He would have survived. Even if Jungkook and his brothers hadn’t made it, Jimin would have survived, never knowing what this man was.

All these thoughts swirled in his head, but he knew there was no use. He hadn’t made the right decisions----but were they really the wrong ones?----and now he was paying the price. 

He grit his teeth and clenched his fists. Well, I won’t let it end without a fight.

Chapter Text

Jungkook’s hand twisted around the hilt of his sword, the familiar weight of the weapon comforting as well as the heavy breathing of his brothers. With them, he would never fall. He waited, his heart thumping within the confines of his chest. “Don’t be afraid,” Namjoon whispered and this time his magic colored his words, relieving the acidic fear from all their shoulders. For once, Jungkook was grateful for his brother’s uncanny words. 

Hoseok expelled a loud breath and said, “Okay.”

The next moment, he let the ward drop.

Jungkook met the first beast with a hard swing to its throat. Blood sprayed his face. It would have hurt if he were paying it any mind. For the first time that day, Jungkook felt entirely in control. His blood was singing and his body was uninhibited. He felt untethered. What little part of his mind remained present reminded him that his brothers and Hoseok were here. They had his back and with them here, nothing would touch him. He ducked out of the way as a beast lunged, hitting the floor before rolling out of reach.

He had just enough time to swing his sword up at another lunging beast before springing backwards in time to avoid another. He kicked off the ground and launched himself at the beast before it could, catching it right beneath the jaw. He kicked it square in the chest, shoving it back to the ground before he stabbed it through the throat.

He didn’t linger over its corpse for long, already moving on to the next target. He cut everything within his path. He lost count. All around him the forest began to warm as the blood soaked into the earth, faint wisps of steam wafting upwards. Swords met maws and jaws snapped dangerously close. Cuts of wind sent creatures flying and somehow, every time he felt the wind the boy created, he felt a burst of adrenaline, launching him forward with a vigor that blurred everything. He felt unstoppable. He felt----

Suddenly, the great wolf, the beast named Shiba, was before him. He hated to admit it, but it was as if meeting her gaze was all it took to weaken him. The air felt heavier as she grinned at him. He just barely raised his sword in time to block her crimson and white jaws from closing in on him. Breath that stunk of meat and blood huffed over his face, warm and heavy.

She swung her head and Jungkook launched himself to the side, rolling quickly back to his feet. He was barely quick enough to dodge her next swipe, but he wasn’t lucky for a third time. Pain and heat erupted over his side, sending him stumbling to the side before he struck out with his blade, swiping her across her maw, sending her rearing back with a growl that sent the hair on Jungkook’s neck spiking up. His grip trembled around his sword, but he clenched it tighter. She chuckled as he met her gaze, defiant.

I grow weary of you humans.

Jungkook didn’t know what happened. One moment, his muscles were readying himself to block or strike Shiba as soon as she lunged, and the next, he was flying. He didn’t feel any pain when his feet left the ground, but his world erupted as soon as he landed on his side. Tears flooded his sight as the pain tried to overtake him, but he grasped his sword and kicked his heels at the ground to push him up.

Suddenly, a hand clasped around his wrist and he met those storming eyes which were now pinched in worry. “We can’t,” he said then to someone else, “Now!” The world exploded outward in a brilliance of gold. He barely registered it as Hoseok’s shield surrounding them before hands hauled him upward. “Hold on,” the boy whispered in his ear, his arm wrapped around Jungkook’s side right about his wound.

Then suddenly, the world lurched. Jungkook’s mind barely comprehended the fact that his feet were no longer on the ground. The wind was whipping at his face, trees fled around them, the fights of battle disappeared, and—

They were flying.

A startled laugh erupted from his lips then the world erupted into light and everything came crashing down. He was on grass now, not the moss of the forest. He could hear the plains whispering behind him. Those arms released him. “I will be right back,” the boy said.

Jungkook rushed to push himself up. Blood slipped through his fingers as he clutched his side. He could scarcely breathe. “No,” he managed to choke out.

The boy turned. It was his first time seeing him in proper daylight. His hair was almost brown, dancing around him like grass in the wind. Jungkook froze as the boy smiled for the first time, blood splattered over his cheek. “It’s alright, Jungkook,” he said. “I’ll save them.” Then he was gone, leaving Jungkook to reach out for nothing. 

***

Jimin had never flown before. He didn’t think he’d had the capability before.

A soulmate gives you the ability to do more than you could ever imagine .

He raced through the forest, for once his silence was not at the forefront of his mind. He still felt strong from just the short time he had been in Jungkook’s proximity, but it did little to prepare him for the battle he returned to. He couldn’t carry three men, no matter how powerful he felt right then. He couldn’t leave Jungkook like that either. He was outside the forest with a sword, but he was bleeding out and—

“Jimin!” a voice exclaimed.

Jimin lurched at the sound of his name spoken on a foreign tongue, but he barely registered it before Seokjin crashed into him. He smelled of lilies oddly enough, beneath the stink of blood and decay. “You took Jungkook?”

“Yes, I—”

“Take Namjoon and go. Hoseok and I will hold them off.” He whirled around, his bow already notched, shooting a beast through the throat. When he turned back to Jimin, Jimin said, “No, you and Namjoon must go first. I can attack while Hoseok blocks. You can cover our backs.”

Seokjin jerked a nod before whirling to his brothers. Jimin rushed after, keenly feeling his lack of weapon. His eyes widened as he took in Namjoon and Hoseok being backed up by Shiba from the front with two of her kin on either side. Almost all the other beasts had been killed, but one of Namjoon’s arms hung limp by his side and Hoseok was white with exhaustion.

“Shiba!” Jimin yelled.

The wolf jerked her head just as Jimin whipped his hand out, the air cutting her cheek. Hoseok and Namjoon took the distraction and ran. Seokjin launched an arrow at the hide of the kin. Jimin took in a breath then threw out his hands, sending a gale towards the three wolves. It sent the ancient trees groaning, lifting the smaller beasts off their feet. Jimin didn’t wait to see the effects of it on the wolves, turning on his heel and running. An enraged roar shot after them, but Jimin kept going. It was all downhill now, aiding their speed, but increasing the danger of slipping and injuring themselves.

It was as if his very thought brought it to be. A cry rang out behind him and he looked over just in time to see Hoseok hit the ground. “Go!” he cried just as Seokjin and Namjoon began to turn. Jimin flew back up to Hoseok just as Shiba descended on them.

Hoseok’s arm flew out, creating a barrier around them. Shiba gnashed at the barrier and it flickered. Sweat poured down Hoseok’s face, his brow furrowed in pain and concentration. Jimin watched from beneath the gold shimmer as an arrow struck Shiba’s ear. The two kin broke off and gave chase to Seokjin and Namjoon, but Shiba remained, her eyes bloody with murder.

Jimin clutched Hoseok tightly, a twisted need to comfort. “You have to let the ward down,” Jimin said, his voice trembling.

“Wha—”

Another attack and Hoseok’s whole body shuddered. His eyes teared up as he let out a pained whimper.

“Please, trust me,” Jimin said, clutching Hoseok harder. Hoseok nodded, his head pressed against Jimin’s chest. “Hold on to me.” Another thrash then he said, “Let it go.”

It was a gamble. He had managed before because it had been Jungkook he had been holding. There was no guarantee the bond would help him now. It was all he had left.

They shot out just as the ward shattered. Jimin cried out as claws raked his leg, but he held onto Hoseok with everything in him. He wasn’t flying like he had with Jungkook. He barely skimmed above the ground, but it didn’t matter. The current carried them swiftly. His vision blurred, but he forced his face to remain facing forward, to guide them away and out. 

He saw the light of the plainlands ahead. He knew it did not mean safety, not anymore, not with Shiba not giving up pursuit, but the sight of it gave him hope.

A loud groan startled his concentration.

“Hurry!” a voice yelled. It was Seokjin. He saw him now, waving frantically from the base of a large tree. He had stopped, so close to the edge. Why? Where were the wolf kin?

Jimin shot passed where Seokjin knelt just as a loud crack cut through him and the world groaned. A thunderous crash sounded, sending Jimin crashing to the ground. He twisted just in time so it was his shoulder that took the brunt of their crash. The ground burned him as they slid to a stop. The world spun even with his eyes closed. He felt bile rush up his throat. There were voices yelling, a sharp snarl that was cut off by a wet yelp. He could hear Shiba snarling and thrashing, but she never drew closer. Slowly, he opened his eyes, watching as the world was clouded by dirt and debris. He released Hoseok so he could use that arm to push himself up. His eyes widened.

There was Shiba, thrashing and snapping, except now there was a tree trapping her hind legs beneath it. He watched in horror as Namjoon approached the raging beast. He didn’t look away even when Shiba threw her head towards Namjoon, breaking her legs further to reach him. He dodged her lunge only to bring his sword down swiftly and decisively. 

He watched as the one master he had served his entire life lost her head. It hit the ground with a sick thud. Jimin met her eyes, still wild with rage.

What have I done?

Everything they had built. Everything they had suffered for. It was all for nothing. 

Eomma, I’m sorry.

Chapter Text

Jungkook woke to pain. It was muffled and pulsing, blooming from his side like the source of a flame. His lashes fluttered and he took in the wooden ceiling above him. The wooden beams were not the fine darkly stained of his bedroom, but instead thin worn stripes of light colored wood.

Somewhere, he heard voices, but when he dropped his head to the side, he saw no one. There was a sole paper lantern set to the side of his cot, placed beside a bowl and a folded towel, all three objects set out of his reach. It was beyond that that another body lay on another cot.

He watched these things with wane interest for a moment before everything resurfaced and he bolted up straight. It wasn’t the smartest move. A wash of pain overtook his entire right side and sent him tipping over onto his elbow as he blinked away spots. His arm trembled, but after a moment of controlling his breathing, he was able to push slowly onto his palm. His suspicions were correct.

It was the strange boy from the forest laid out a little ways from him. The frantic ride to the nearest village, his brothers’ worried voices cascading around him. Jungkook remembered it in pulses. He must have lost consciousness at some point before he was treated.

The boy----Jimin, Seokjin had called him Jimin---- was pale in the scant light. Jungkook reached out to confirm what he already knew. His brow was damp with sweat, burning under his touch. Jimin’s head fell to the side, spreading Jungkook’s fingers further over his brow as if there was comfort in Jungkook’s touch. He sat there for an embarrassing amount of time before the sound of voices cut through his mental fog.

He pushed himself to his feet, slowly and steadily, stumbling for the doorframe. He gripped it tightly for support. Shadows licked at the edge of his vision and at one point, he slumped against the wall and remained there for a period of time. The hallway was better lit, leading him to believe the room had been left purposefully dim for them to better rest. The air was thick and humid, sticking to the back of Jungkook’s neck and lacing his brow. The voices drifted up from downstairs.

He managed to get halfway down the stairs before an oversight caused by the pain resulted in him missing a step. He managed to catch himself in time before he fell further than two steps, but his body didn’t seem to care, punishing him without care.

“Jungkook-ah, do you have no self preservation?” His eldest brother’s nagging voice sent a flood of relief through his body. He was sure if anyone other than his brothers’ had touched him right then, he might have snapped their heads off, injury or not.

“It was dumb of us to assume the pain would keep him down,” Namjoon sighed as Seokjin hurried to help Jungkook. Together, they managed to bring him into the main room. They weren’t alone. Hoseok was there as well as two strangers and a familiar, but unexpected face. Once Jungkook was assured of Hoseok’s health, he turned his attention to the strangers. One introduced himself as the physician of the village, the other his wife, and the last wore the red and black hanbok of the Kim clan. Even without it, Jungkook would have recognized him. If he was here. . .

Kwan inclined his head, offering Jungkook a smile. 

“When I got your hyung’s letter, I rode over with a small party as quickly as I could,” Kwan said. “He clearly undermined the injuries in his letter so as not to cause worry.” He gave Namjoon a look which had the other duck his head and scratch his neck. Kwan was the same age as Namjoon, making them friends since infancy since disciples in the Kim clan trained with those of their same year. Jungkook’s year had been incredibly small, one of several reasons why Jungkook had very few friends beyond his immediate family. 

“I’ve apologized, haven’t I?” Namjoon said.

“I should go check on your friend,” the physician said, his wife rising with him.

“What happened exactly?”

Together, they pieced the story together for him. Namjoon and Seokjin had been so close to throwing caution to the wind and taking the two wolf cubs with swords when Namjoon had recalled the words Jimin had said to the beasts before. It had been a gamble. With Namjoon’s ability to manipulate through speech, it was generally useless on beasts who had their own language or did not understand language at all. In their experience, they had never encountered a human who could speak their language so Namjoon’s shock at having actually stopped the cubs was understandable.

That was around when Jungkook had stumbled onto them, limping, but sword at the ready. He had taken out one of the cubs, frozen as they were before collapsing against a tree. Namjoon had dealt with the other before rushing after Seokjin. There, Seokjin had used his ability to cause a tree to fall just as the great wolf descended on Hoseok and Jimin. Namjoon had taken it out.

After that, it had been a struggle of who could stay conscious long enough to retrieve their horses. In the end, it was Seokjin. He had suffered the least physical wounds, but the toll of using his ability on a living and ancient creature had been great.

The trek back to the closest village had been a horror. Jungkook had long since lost consciousness, bleeding out from his side as he was and Jimin had followed after. Namjoon had barely held onto his own, leaving Hoseok and Seokjin as the only fully capable riders. They had no choice but to put Namjoon by himself while Hoseok and Seokjin took Jungkook and Jimin respectively.

“The physician was sure you should have died,” Seokjin finished, cheerily. “But you’re as stubborn as ever.”

Jungkook tried to conjure a cocky grin, but only succeeded partially. “So Abeoji knows?”

Kwan grimaced, but shook his head. “Namjoon’s letter was addressed to me so I was the only one with the details. I brought only enough disciples to make the horse handling easy and only the ones I approved of.” Which meant ones who would not talk and Kwan trusted inexplicably, meaning ones Jungkook and his hyungs could trust. “Of course, our arrival will not go unnoticed, nor the state you’re in . . .”

Jungkook took stock of his brothers. Hoseok had a cut on his forehead that looked nastier the longer one looked, but had been neatly stitched closed. Seokjin was sporting a bandaged left hand. He waved it around to show just how little of a deal it was, but Jungkook could see the tension in his shoulder as he tried. Namjoon placed a hand on his shoulder to calm him. Namjoon wore his hanbok over his shoulders, his right arm splinted against his chest. All in all, this was the worst Jungkook had seen them, but everyone was past the worst of it.

Except . .  .

“Has he woken at all since we’ve come here?”

“A few times,” Seokjin admitted, but the worry was clear. “But he was rather delusional. We’ll have to wait until he is clear headed to ask him anything.”

Jungkook paused then nodded. He felt an itch of impatience for the boy to get up. It lingered at the back of his head for the rest of the day as his brothers urged him to eat and rest up. They moved him to another room so he wouldn’t disturb Jimin’s recovery, but Jungkook still found himself sitting up after they had dropped him off in his room, watching the wall that connected him to Jimin. He had so many questions for him, but more than that, Jungkook needed him to get better. Jungkook had given his word that he would be safe. It was all their fault that he had gotten hurt at all. If he died now, Jungkook would never be able to forgive himself.

To everyone’s relief, Jimin woke the next morning. Jungkook wanted to see him right away, but Namjoon reasoned it would be better if only one of them talked to him. It turned out to be Seokjin, much to Jungkook’s surprise. Seokjin tended not to volunteer to converse with strangers if he could help it, especially if Namjoon was right there.

They spoke only for a short while, but judging by the color of their voices it began as quiet before becoming bright and warm. Seokjin reappeared with a smile on his face. “He will journey with us until Yeongju. He has accepted any help we can offer to find his contact. I am sure it will take a while for us to do that, but he is in no rush.”

Jungkook almost asked if he could see him, but stopped himself, caught off guard. He closed his mouth and nodded instead. Seokjin caught him regardless, slapping a hand on his shoulder.

“Aw, Jungkookie, there’s no need to worry,” Seokjin teased.

Jungkook scowled. “It is what being a warrior is about. Protecting the weak and honoring one’s promises.”

His brothers exchanged looks, Seokjin chuckling a little while Namjoon restrained himself to a smile. Jungkook just walked away.

The physician’s wife did not like Jimin. He could feel it in the way she ignored his eyes so plainly. The physician was fine, but Jimin supposed that had to do with his profession. Jimin ignored it, but he forgot that he wasn’t by himself anymore.

“Your aura is odd,” Seokjin explained one morning. The Kims often ate together downstairs, but for whatever reason, Seokjin made a point of being the one to deliver his food and pick it up. “It’s strong, like ours, but we trained to make it this strong. You lived in a place with such high energy. I’m sure your aura molded itself to withstand such an essence. To people with weaker aura, yours is intimidating, especially since you don’t know how to hide it like us.” Jimin must have frowned. Seokjin laughed, ruffling his hair. “Aish, you’re so cute.”

Jimin touched his hair, unsure how to take the gesture or the comment. “What does that mean?”

Seokjin startled, but was quick to cover his surprise, settling into an easy sitting position. “It means, ah, well.” He tapped his chin. “Something that is lovely, but in a way that makes you feel happy by it.” He pinched Jimin’s cheek. “Cute.”

Jimin’s mother used to remark that the flowers that grew by the river bed were lovely. Sunrises were lovely. The bird songs were lovely. Jimin did not think he was anything like a flower, a sunrise, or a bird song.

“Ah, maybe I should get Namjoon to explain.”

Jimin smiled a little. “It’s okay. Thank you.”

Seokjin watched him for a long moment, his usual smile a little askew. After a moment, he patted Jimin’s head again, a little sad. “You’re very welcome.”

The door rattled as someone knocked. Seokjin half turned, his legs still crossed. “Come in!”

Jungkook appeared at the doorway. His doe eyes immediately fell on Jimin. Jimin had to look away, feeling a blush on his neck. “Namjoonie-hyung says we should leave by noon,” he declared then in a softer tone. “He wanted to know how Jimin was doing.”

“Yah, he’s older than you,” Seokjin said.

Jimin caught Jungkook’s eyes widening a little before he bowed abruptly. “I apologize. I did not know.”

“I-It’s fine.” Jimin’s face was burning. Why was he bowing?

Seokjin hid a smile before addressing Jungkook once more. “Come in, if you want.”

His eyes widened further and he shook his head. “I just need---Namjoon-hyung wanted to know . . .”

“I can do it,” Jimin said.

They held gazes for a moment then Jungkook bowed abruptly and disappeared. Jimin was bewildered. Where had the fiery confident warrior gone? A moment passed then Seokjin burst into a laugh.

It took almost a week to travel up to Junseok, the seat of the Kim clan. According to Seokjin, it took much less typically, but they traveled slowly in accommodation for their wounds. It was more than enough time for Jimin to swallow himself in everything that had happened. The loss of his home, the loss of balance, his quick surrender to return to Junseok with the Kims. 

He wasn’t left to torment himself in peace. Seokjin and Hoseok seemed intent on chatter, often pulling Jimin into it. Jimin didn’t mind as he learned a lot from these conversations. The pair were rather indulgent with information, knowing exactly where Jimin had come from. 

To his surprise, Jungkook did not speak as much. Everyone attempted more than once to goad him into some banter, but it was short-lived. It wasn’t as if he were in a sullen mood, but rather like he couldn’t bear to speak. Whenever they stopped, he would go wander off by himself.

Hoseok seemed to notice Jimin's lingering gazes to their quietest member and explained briefly. "He doesn't like messing up."

Jimin didn't reply. He could understand the feeling, but if anyone should feel like they had messed up, it should be Jimin. The only reason he didn’t resent himself more was because the others did such a good job of distracting him. They weren’t there though when he laid awake at night.

More than once, he turned in his cot only to find Jungkook awake and sitting up in his cot. Every time, Jimin had felt the urge to wander over. Maybe say something. Maybe just sit there. Every time, he remained where he was, a voice chiding him for daring to draw close to his soulmate, knowing how it would end. 

He didn’t know what to expect from the capital. It was quite literally the largest cluster of dwellings he had ever walked through, not counting the two years he didn’t recall when he lived here. Everywhere he looked, there was action that stopped as soon as they were spotted. People cheered when they saw the Kims as if they were returning heroes. 

They must be really loved.  

It was hard to place this image above the one his mother had painted of the Kims. How can someone be so loved yet so cruel? It was at this point that Jimin was forced to admit that he didn’t know anything. Up until this point, he had been living in a world that consisted of surviving another day, of speaking to only his mother and the few beasts that came close to converse. The people he had spent the last few days with had been anything but cruel. They had helped Jimin even when they shouldn’t have. It only made it harder for him to think of never seeing them again.

Again. . . he felt his heart tell him it did not have to be this way, but the sight of the Kim palace sitting tall and proud at the top of the hill had Jimin quieting his thoughts abruptly. There lay his mother’s biggest fear. Something she had been willing to enter a forest of beasts to escape.

“So about that contact,” Namjoon began.

Jimin startled in his saddle. The Kims had provided him with a horse, something that had shocked Jimin bad enough that the others had laughed at his expression. Their amusement had only risen once they realized Jimin didn’t actually know how to ride a horse and tried to give it back to them. “Just sell it once we get to the capital and return the money if it really bothers you,” Namjoon had suggested, amusement clear in his dimpled smile.

Except now Jimin was attached and he hated the very idea of selling the horse which he had named Chiko. But what would he need a horse for?

“I . . . Kang Aeja.”

Namjoon’s brow shot up and he glanced at his brothers. 

“W-What?” Jimin shot his eyes around at their little group.

Namjoon shook his head. “It might just be a coincidence though it is quite an unusual name. Do you know anything else about her?”

“She is around my mother’s age, forty-five or so.”

Another glance. “What else?”

Jimin was getting restless, worrying at their glance exchanges. “She used to work at a place called the Golden Heron with my mother when she was younger. I don’t know much else. My mother lost contact when she left.”

Namjoon exchanged looks with his brothers once more and Jimin was this close to yelling, but Namjoon spoke up before he could. “We actually know who you’re talking about.”

Jimin’s eyes widened and he couldn’t help the burst of relief that flooded his chest. “That’s wonderful! If you could please tell me and I will be on my way. I will be sure to return your money to you once I sell the horse.” And be out of the city as soon as possible.

“Don’t worry about the money and as for Aeja-nim . . . well, she is actually a relative.”

Jimin’s stomach dropped and he gripped Chiko’s reins tightly. “A . . . relative?” Why would his mother give him only one reference and that being of someone related to the Kims? His mother had acted as if he had three options: stay in the forest, leave and stay with Kang Aeja, or turn himself over to the Kims. But now he realized that his mother had never meant there to be three options. She had only ever spoken of Kang Aeja as if she would help him once he left. Meaning once he left, he would go to the Kims.

“Yes, though most people in our family pretend that she isn’t.” Namjoon cleared his throat. “She’s our aunt, our abeoji’s younger brother’s wife. I am guessing that your eomma hadn’t heard of her marriage considering where you lived. She is Kim Aeja now.”

Jimin's mind felt thick and slow. Why had he never bothered to talk about it further with his mother? He knew the answer to that. Neither had thought he would ever leave. But now, he had no choice. “Where does she live?” His voice came out meekly.

“She lives with us, though technically she resides in a separate house, the Lotus House. It is a section of the branch family’s residence. Would you like an audience with her?”

They were all watching him, awaiting his answer. 

But what answer could he give? Was there really anything else he could do? He could take Chiko and wander out of the capital and do what? He didn’t understand the outside world or how it worked, even with the Kims brief lessons on the road. He could survive on his own though. He had before. He could do it again. He could continue to hide. Live out his days alone. . .

Or he could face the thing his mother had been so badly trying to outrun, the thing he knew his mother secretly wished he wouldn’t choose despite her insistence of feeling guilty. His mother had given him a choice, but that did not mean he had to choose what she had chosen for him. He had nothing left for him. Why not try to take a chance and build something?

He finally brought himself to meet Jungkook’s gaze. Their eyes met and he knew Jungkook was just as curious to his answer as everyone else, maybe even moreso. He felt his heart squeeze and he almost felt weak.

He didn’t know if he was making the right decision, even as the words came out of his mouth. “Thank you. I would appreciate that.”

Chapter Text

Jimin did not know what he had been expecting from Kang Aeja, but this was not it. True to their word, the Kim brothers had garnered Jimin an audience with Aeja before taking their leave. Jimin was still dressed in one of the Kim brothers’ spare hanboks which judging by the fact that it fell well enough, it could only be Jungkook or Hoseok’s. He shivered at the thought that it might be Jungkook’s, but quickly brushed that thought away. Even though the hanbok was one of the finest things he had ever worn, he still felt he was ill-fitted to be standing in such a grand hall. He didn’t have to wait long however, as Kang Aeja appeared within minutes of Jimin’s arrival. Jimin quickly prostrated himself as Namjoon had mentioned he should.

“Who is it that requires my urgent presence?” she demanded and Jimin’s heart began to pound at the commanding silver voice.

He slowly raised his face from the floor and met Aeja’s eyes. Her eyes pinned Jimin down with a shrewd look. She was beautiful in the way Shiba was. Frightening and fierce, a way that captivated you as much as it told you to avert your gaze. The cloud of dark silk that adorned her tall frame proved to shroud her in a smoldering aura. Somehow, it was easier to speak up in front of such blatant ferocity since it was so familiar. “I apologize for bothering you, my lady.” He paused. He supposed there was no easy way to say it. “My name is Park Jimin, son of Sun Chanri and Park Jaebom.”

The seconds that passed were pure torture. “Sun . . . Chanri, you say?” Her voice was measured, no longer radiating off the walls. 

Jimin nodded slowly. “She told me to come to you . . . if I ever needed help.” He raised his head finally.

Lady Aeja surged forward. Jimin made a move to fall back, but then she caught his jaw. Her eyes, so beautiful and dark up close, jerked across his face as if absorbing every little tone and cut. It was only moments later that he felt her grip loosen until it was a mere caress. The guarded ferocity in her gaze fell, replaced by a tenderness that threatened to overwhelm him more than her antagonism had. “Jimin?” she whispered, her other hand coming up to cradle his face. “Is it really you? Oh, it must be. Your eyes—” Her eyes brimmed, but there was a brightness burning through it. “And Chanri?” She looked over his shoulder as if she may have missed a woman standing there. “Where is she?” Her eyes jerked back to Jimin. “Speak, child. Where is she?”

Tears threatened his own eyes. He had to drop his gaze. “She passed a few days ago.” Jimin could not tell how many days. He had not been aware enough at the time.

Silence fell heavy in the hall. Jimin’s heartbeat had steadied itself, but the swell of sickness only rose. He closed his eyes as he curled his hands into fists. He inclined his head deeply. “I’m sorry . . .There was nothing I could do. . .No one would come and I didn’t know—” But he couldn’t bring himself to finish his words. His throat was blocked. It seemed he hadn’t spent all his tears.

“Rise.” Even as she said it, she guided him up by his face. Her eyes had returned to that hard stone from before, but there was a defiant glimmer there. “All that is mine is yours. Do not hesitate to ask for anything.”

Despite the fact that the biggest question of his future remained undealt with, he still felt a weight remove itself from his shoulders. He was taken to a room within the Lotus House and provided with a new set of clothes to be worn after he bathed. “Madam Aeja would like for you to join her and her son for dinner once you are finished.”

Jimin nodded, despite the fact that the idea filled his gut with anxiety. Some of it was smoothed out of him in the bath, so when he was led to the dining hall, he was only slightly sick with nerves. When he arrived, he found that Aeja had not yet arrived, but there was someone else present. The boy’s eyes popped as soon as they landed on Jimin. 

“Oh, look, a stranger wearing my clothes,” the young man cooed.

Jimin blushed. “Ah—”

But then the stranger was hopping to his feet, hands clasped behind his back. He had the same noble air about him like the Kim brothers. There was no doubt as to who he was. “I arrived early for the first time in my life and it seems I get a gift for my efforts.” His voice came out deep and rich, the complete opposite of Jimin’s. He ran a critical gaze up and down Jimin’s frame. When he finally came to a stop before him, the young man stood about half a head taller than him. Must everyone tower over him , he thought, missing how he used to stand several inches taller than his mother. The young man reached out a hand, large jewels adorning slender fingers. Jimin was more than a little shocked when the hand pinched his cheek, perhaps a little too roughly, but he completely forgot about that as the boy’s face erupted into a bright boxy smile. “Cute,” he stated, pleased with himself. 

“H-Hello,” he said, face flushing hot. Were all the Kims like this? Overly touchy and enamored with calling him names that didn’t make sense. “My name is Park Jimin.” Aeja had already promised him that she would help him keep his secret, so he reasoned telling her son wouldn’t be too bad.

The young man dropped his hand and made a show of standing up tall and erect. “My name is Kim Taehyung,” he said, tilting his chin up. “You can address me as ‘your grace’ or ‘my lord.’”

“Oh . . .  okay.”

For some reason, Taehyung started to laugh just as Aeja entered the room. She immediately scowled at her son. “Eomma!” Taehyung exclaimed, entirely unperturbed by his mother’s expression. “Where did you find this boy?”

“He came to me and he is our guest until further notice, so you will treat him with respect and do not think I will hesitate to reprimand you if you dare to play around with him.”

Taehyung’s expression twisted into something Jimin might dare to say resembled a pout. It managed to morph his handsome face into something child-like and Jimin thought perhaps he was younger than him despite being taller. “Eomma, you think so lowly of me. I was only asking because I’ve just decided that I will be taking Jimin under my wing.” He turned back to Jimin and asked, “You are younger than me, right? I am twenty years of age.”

“So am I,” Jimin replied, miffed that Taehyung had the audacity to think he was younger. Jungkook had already done so. “You’re the one acting younger,” he muttered.

Taehyung heard, but laughed anyway. He grabbed Jimin’s arm and dragged him to his side of the table. Despite Aeja’s stormy demeanor upon her entry, it seemed she was rather amicable with her son. Jimin was enthralled just watching the way they conversed. It was somehow both like and unlike the way Jimin and his mother had been. Lee Chanri had been the closest person in his life, a friend at times and others, a strict guiding light. Aeja’s expression never lifted from a frown, but her mouth loosened as she listened to her son talk. When she snapped at him to eat his food first, Jimin was struck with a pain so sharp and familiar, he almost felt his eyes begin to blur once more.

“Why aren’t you eating?” It was Taehyung who spoke, but Aeja snapped her gaze to him as well. They peered at him with matching dark eyes. Much to his surprise, Taehyung put his chopsticks down and twisted to face him completely. He had situated Jimin at the corner, between his mother and him. “Is the food not to your liking?” He asked it so sincerely that Jimin immediately dismissed all ill thoughts he may have had of the other. “We can have something else made for you. Just tell us.”

Jimin was quick to shake his head, embarrassed. “I am not used to eating so much. Besides. . .” How could he bring up the fact that he missed his mother dearly? That he wished she were here and make all of this feel correct?

As it turned out, he needn’t say anything. Aeja nodded and said, “You must be tired. You have just arrived.”

Taehyung looked like he wanted to ask more, but he simply jumped to his feet and held out his hand. “Come on! I have a lot to show you. Don’t worry, it’s only the fun things.”

 ***

As it turned out, their father wasn’t as angry as he could have been. This was largely thanks to the fact that Namjoon had had Kwan and his small team go into Sejun Forest just to check if the wolf’s corpse was still there. It had, so three wolf heads, already reduced to skulls, had been brought before the clan head prior to their arrival.

Jungkook was present for the meeting with their father, but it was mainly Namjoon who spoke. It had always been clear that Namjoon was the favored child. His ability made him highly coveted, but beyond that, he had all the makings of a leader. As the eldest, Seokjin had never desired that role for himself and had never been shy about saying so to anyone who would listen. Jungkook knew there was a narrative among people who did not know his family personally that attempted to pit his brothers against one another. It made for a good story for some. All it did was make him angry.

In Namjoon’s retelling, it was as if Jimin did not exist. It was the last thing Jimin had asked of them before he had disappeared behind Lotus House’s doors. There was a reason why he and his mother had been hiding in such a place. It was better he did not get their father’s attention.

Once Namjoon was done, their father congratulated them heartily and declared that he would hold a special feast for them during the celebration of clans in a week or so. Just as they were leaving, his father called to Jungkook. 

“After you are looked at by Seolhyun, return. We have matters to discuss.”

Jungkook nodded even as his heart began to race.

Seolhyun was Namjoon’s wife and soulmate. She also happened to be gifted with the ability to heal. Jungkook’s session with her passed in awkward silence as most of their interactions tended to. Normally, they began with her attempting polite conversation and Jungkook doing a half-hearted job at being pleasant in return. It was anything but pleasant, so it never lasted long. Seolhyun still gave him a smile at the end which Jungkook attempted to return it before disappearing as quickly as he could.

Jungkook always hated himself after every interaction with Seolhyun. She was a kind woman. She didn’t deserve such a bastard for a brother-in-law. But she, just like the rest of his family, was aware of his history with soulmates. He wished she wasn’t. That way she could dislike him, instead of pitying him.

So what if he didn’t have a soulmate? So what if they died minutes after he was born? He was fine with that. He didn’t need them.

Except his treatment of Seolhyun said otherwise.

When Jungkook arrived at his father’s meeting hall, he was informed that his father had returned to his quarters and to meet him there. Jungkook’s mind raced. His father always met with him in the grand hall. It was a room designed for formal gatherings as well as larger banquets. He knew Namjoon often visited their father for tea in his quarters, but neither Jungkook nor Seokjin had that same privilege.

When he arrived, he found that tea had already been set.

“Come, take a seat.” His father gestured to the pillow placed on the other side of a small table at the base of the pedestal.

Jungkook crossed the dark floorboards and took a seat. His father’s dark silk robes splayed out around him, his tea already poured. Jungkook had his own jade tea set placed before him, steam rising gently. He poured himself a cup, but did not move to drink it. Instead, he watched his father carefully.

His father drank from his cup and placed it down before he decided to speak. “I believe it is about time we start looking for a suitor for you,” his father said, stroking his short beard.

Jungkook didn’t respond. His body and mind barely reacted to the words save the vague ping in his gut.

“I already discussed this with your brothers. They believe it is a little preemptive.”

Jungkook didn’t allow himself to relax at his father’s words, but he did make sure to remember to thank his brothers for understanding without having to speak to him. His father valued Namjoon’s opinion the most, he knew that. Seokjin had long ago stopped living for the sake of pleasing their father and instead did what he desired. Since his natural disposition meant he lived a rather simple and quiet life, their father couldn’t complain. Still, Seokjin’s opinion held more weight than Jungkook’s ever did.

“I never said anything about you being married now, yet they act as though I wish to wed you this month.” He could tell his father was more than a little annoyed at his elder sons’ reactions. It brought a slight curl to Jungkook’s mouth that his father failed to notice. “They are much too protective of you, I think. It is why you never come out to socialize with the other courtiers and when you do, you stick to your brothers like paste. Yet they say nothing to dissuade this kind of behavior.”

All this because Jungkook had yet to show any interest in the noble women. Not one mention of the fact that every time Jungkook attended the events, he won almost every competition, all the way to the point that most others didn’t even participate, too petty to try again. It was annoying and not the least bit satisfying winning unrivaled, which was only made worse by his father’s disinterest.

“Do you have anyone in mind?” Jungkook asked. Jungkook had known for a long time that he would marry one of these clan women. He didn’t have a soulmate to take up that spot after all. For a moment, that familiar pain tried to spread in his chest once more. He found it a little hard to breath. A long time now, he had figured out what this emotion was. Grief. He grieved someone he never had and never would have. It was pathetic and he always crushed it before it could corrupt him further, but it always returned. Like a shadow, it clung to him, unable to be rid of it, only able to forget its existence at times.

“Not as of right now, but I will be looking into it.”

Jungkook nodded, releasing the tight curl of his fists. “When you have found a candidate, I will be glad to meet with her. Until then, I will be sure to try to expand my social circles. Is that all?” He didn’t expect anything else so he wasn’t surprised when his father nodded. He inclined his head and got to his feet. “Then good day, Abeoji.”

Chapter Text

As it turned out, Aeja was already aware of Jimin’s predicament regarding Jungkook and his family.

“Your eomma came to see me the night that she fled. At that time, my husband had been banished from the Kim clan for having married me. We were living a peaceful life. Chanri stayed with us for a little while, but I could see that she did not feel safe. She was right to fear it because not long after she left, Hyungwon’s men arrived in search of you.”

There was a true anger that roiled in her eyes, the kind that could not be tempered even after years and years. Jimin had only ever seen sadness and fear in his mother’s eyes. It was unsettling to see something so tender yet volatile up close.

“But you live here now,” Jimin said, careful to not push too hard.

“Hyungwon’s guilt for his brother’s death,” Aeja said with a dismissive hand, but her lip curled. She often painted it a bright crimson that Jimin had never seen before. Taehyung had joked that Jimin should try it himself since he seemed so drawn to it, but even as a joke, Jimin didn’t think it would be right for someone like him to imitate someone like her. “Take in his widow and fatherless child years after abandoning us to poverty. I wish with every fiber of my being that I had never taken him up on his offer, but now I live here so that one day, I can make him feel the way he made us.” 

After Jimin’s first day, he brought up the idea that he would work here as a servant. He had been excited by his idea, only for it to be struck down with looks of horror from both mother and son. “I already made you a cover story,” Taehyung said, sounding a little annoyed. “If anyone asks, you are my friend from Gyeongsan coming for a visit.”

“Isn’t it odd for someone like me to be your friend?” Jimin asked, worried.

“No,” he replied, popping a grape in his mouth. “I have a great deal of friends from a wide degree of backgrounds. As for Samchon, he couldn’t care less about my friends.”

There wasn’t much occasion to use this excuse since Jimin rarely ventured out of the Lotus House and whenever he did, he only ever visited the city with Taehyung. No one out there or within the Lotus House seemed to care who Jimin might be to Taehyung. He guessed it had to do with Taehyung’s status. 

As it turned out, Taehyung’s favorite pastime was spoiling Jimin. Aeja said as much one day much to Taehyung’s unabashed amusement. Worst of all, she didn’t even scold him. Jimin was beginning to realize where Taehyung may have gotten this habit from. Taehyung was particularly fond of clothing and accessories, unsurprisingly. They didn’t even have to leave their rooms to have these things brought to them.

Servants would descend into the room, carrying trays or wrapped bundles to display before them. Taehyung would then proceed to pick out the ones he preferred since he had already come to the conclusion that Jimin was a tragedy when it came to such decisions. Jimin only took mild offense, but simply sighed and went along because apparently it made Taehyung happy and Jimin couldn’t bring himself to say no to that smile.

“I don’t know, Taehyung. I just think you look wonderful in everything and I do not,” Jimin said one day. They were in Taehyung’s whirlwind of a room with the owner of the room sprawled out on his divan, tossing grapes into his mouth as he ordered Jimin to do twirls and strike poses for him. Taehyung had already ordered everything, despite Jimin’s protests and now every inch of furniture and floor space was covered in bright silks, wrinkled wax paper, and discarded paper boxes.

“Flattery won’t get you out of this,” Taehyung replied then swirled his index finger in a circular motion.

Jimin sighed and did a slow turn. He was currently adorned in a rich gray-purple hanbok with small pale silver petals cascading over it. It was beautiful, he would have to admit, but he didn’t think it suited him. Nothing in this house did.

“Besides, don’t you wish to look nice when Jungkook inevitably sees you?”

Jimin’s face immediately burned as he shot Taehyung a glare, but the boy simply grinned impishly back. “Jungkook will not see me.”

“I don’t know, Jiminie. He lives perhaps a ten minute walk from here.

“Don’t remind me,” Jimin muttered, but he would be lying if he said the idea hadn’t crossed his mind before. Lotus House was still on the main property, connected through a carriage road and paths that wound through the back forest with a conjoining courtyard of bamboo trees. Hoseok had already found Jimin and Taehyung on the many paths as well as Seokjin, but no Jungkook. Not yet. 

Just slip outside once and wander through the connecting paths. Hopefully catch sight of the other. Meet those soft brown eyes. Maybe he could even talk to him. But once his mind trailed that far, he always scrambled back. He didn’t need to be reminded that he couldn’t keep this up. He couldn’t continue playing dress-up with Taehyung and pretend his soulmate didn’t eat, sleep and breathe just beyond the front door.

Jimin started untying the outer robe, to give him something to do as he carefully spoke up. “Taehyung?”

“Hmmm?”

“What do you know about soulmates?”

The silence that followed prompted Jimin to bring his gaze up. Taehyung was still splayed out on the divan, but his eyes remained on the ceiling. An unreadable expression had overtaken the other boy’s face. His brows furrowed slightly and his lips tightened. Taehyung raised a hand to his face and Jimin noticed it tremble. 

“Taehyung?” he whispered as the other took in a deep breath, his bejeweled hand covering his eyes.

His hand disappeared from his eyes within a breath as he pushed up from the divan, the back of his lengthy midnight hair sticking up. He smiled, but there was an unmistakable fragility to it. “I forget that you were a hermit before this,” he said, teasing, but Jimin didn’t smile back. Taehyung patted the divan beside him and Jimin ventured forward warily.

“Are you alright?” Jimin asked.

Taehyung immediately waved his hand. “What do you wish to know?”

Jimin no longer wished to ask his questions, not if his first one warnered such a reaction. It wasn’t anything he could put his finger on, but it was as if something unseen had cast a film over Taehyung. It altered every movement he made and even the way he smiled. It was almost as if Jimin could reach out and touch it, maybe even tear it off. 

Before he could take back his question, Taehyung held up a hand. “Come now, ask me anything.”

Jimin hesitated, biting his lip, but eventually he gave in. “Do all soulmates love each other?”

Taehyung paused, then nodded, slowly. “To an extent they do. Even before we meet, there is obviously love. Sometimes though there can be other emotions like anger or hatred. It is all about the circumstances. Not all soulmates end up in love or remain that way. Like any relationship it takes effort. It isn’t a fairytale, Jimin.” His dark gaze told him something just as much as it hid from him.

“I know soulmates can heighten each other’s magical aptitude, but are there any other effects?”

Taehyung’s finger tapped on his knee. “There is of course an immediate attraction, not necessarily physical. You become keenly aware of your partner. It is more of an intuition, I suppose. Some people can even find their partner blindfolded after a while.” Taehyung’s lips quirked, but there was still that downward push that Jimin wished to wipe away. “For warrior clans such as mine, soulmates make the perfect combat partners. It comes to the point that it is almost like reading each other’s minds.”

“I think . . . when we were in the forest, I felt a rush of power I had never felt before. I did things I would never have been able to do before. Is simply being beside Jungkook that effective?”

“I can see you are quite powerful on your own. You have to remind me to teach you how to hide that aura. It’ll bring unnecessary attention. But I like it. It’s like a flutter of air against my skin. Refreshing when you’re happy. Suffocating when you’re not.” He smiled softly. “Jungkook is powerful in his own right. It only makes sense that you two being together would cause such a reaction.”

“I didn’t see Jungkook use magic once,” he said mostly to himself.

Taehyung let out a slow breath. “He has his reasons.”

“Are you two close? I know you call him a monkey . . .”

Taehyung laughed, clasping his hands on his ankles as he rocked back. “We aren’t close I suppose. I like the other hyungs and we get along, but Jungkook has always been a brat to me. You would think we would get along, given our similar circumstances, but it seems that’s the very reason he likes to avoid me.”

“Similar circumstances?”

Taehyung smiled, but he wasn’t looking at Jimin. He rubbed his lip. “Forget I said that, okay?” He gave Jimin a sweet smile, but Jimin was adept at reading the sadness in the threads of a smile.

He nodded.

Taehyung laughed suddenly. “Enough of this! I’ve ordered soju and I am intent on making your first drinking experience unforgettable.”

Later, Taehyung was flat on the floor, singing folk songs much too loud while Jimin attempted to hush him, but only fell over in laughter instead. The servants who came in to serve them dinner and replenish the soju offered Jimin a sympathetic look while shooting amused looks at Taehyung before scurrying out with their trays.

“Is it true that the world thinks I am dead?” Jimin asked. He had given in and sprawled out on the floor with Taehyung, their hanboks tangled together, Jimin playing with Taehyung’s soft, long hair. His mother had always cut his hair. It seemed only the nobility could afford to wear their hair so long.

“Mm-hm. If Samchon is anything, he is a man of pride. It can be good because he will always stick to his word, but it also means to offend him—” Taehyung groaned. “When he couldn’t find you or your eomma anywhere, he resorted to lies. As far as I’m aware, only Eomma and Abeoji knew you were alive.” Taehyung laughed. “Eomma said as soon as she put you in my cradle by my side, she felt in her heart that we were brothers.”

“I always wanted a brother,” he whispered.

Taehyung hummed again, rolling so he was on his side and their eyes could meet.

What would Jungkook’s father do if Jimin dared to “return?”

Taehyung must have read his expression because he patted Jimin’s cheek. “Jungkook. . . despite what I have said about him, he would never let anything happen to you. He is devoted and fierce about those he loves.” 

That was just it. Would Jungkook even love him enough to protect him? Could he? Knowing that Jimin had been deceiving him all this time?

Jimin, not for the first time, wondered about the life he would have lived. A life where his mother hadn’t spirited him away. He would have grown up under the leader’s influence. He would have had friends. He would have had “hyungs.” He could have had the same thing Jungkook had with his brothers and clansmen. The same thing that made Jungkook look so sure when he was in battle. Jimin could have been trained to be beside him in battle. In another life, they could have been unstoppable together.

He shut his eyes, wishing for a thousandth time that he would stop thinking of this other life. It was not his. It never would be. No matter what happened here, he was still the boy who died all those years ago and Jungkook was still the boy who had moved on.

But that did not mean Jimin had nothing. He had a home again, people he could call friends, perhaps even family if he were brave enough. He had something and that counted for a lot.

Jungkook often had trouble sleeping at night. He was too restless some nights. Seokjin joked that he was like his dog, Garo, content with mindless pacing. Speaking of Garo, he looked up at Jungkook as he shifted in his bed for the hundredth time that night. Jungkook sighed and pushed out of bed.

Immediately, Garo hurried to his feet. Jungkook had found the dog out in the wilderness a few years ago. His father had demanded he get rid of it, but for once Jungkook had held his ground. He had begun to feel increasingly lonely around that time since Seokjin had been traveling and Namjoon had been visiting Seolhyun at her family home. Hoseok had been off helping Yoongi terrorize the Min clan. He had even fallen low enough to venture to the Lotus House for company. Taehyung had been much too smug about it, teasing him until Jungkook regretted ever coming. 

He let Garo lead the way to whichever garden he wanted to take a stroll through, never wanting to go through Jungkook’s private garden and courtyard. They happened to pass Seokjin’s room and he noticed a soft light emanating from inside. He was about to knock and perhaps bother his eldest hyung when he realized someone was already inside.

Voices drifted out, but were too muffled for him to make out the exact words. He did pinpoint that it was Namjoon who was in there with him. Jungkook frowned. It was rather late and his two brothers were not ones to chatter into the night like this. What matter couldn’t wait until morning?

He glanced up and noticed Garo had wandered ahead, his ghostly fur like a beacon in the dim halls. He hurried after his dog and eventually found himself in the eastern garden. He didn’t frequent it as often during the day since it was the biggest courtyard, thus heightening the possibility of running into others, especially Taehyung who was usually trapersing throughout with his gaggle of friends. They always resorted to teasing Jungkook like he was a child. He was sure if Taehyung weren’t there, they wouldn’t have the audacity. 

However, this late at night, it was empty. He wandered over the stone pathway, eyes drifting over the lazy fireflies. Garo wandered ahead, sniffing at anything and everything. The night was peaceful, the distant lights of the Lotus House and the rest of the manor bleeding warmth into the air. The sweetness of the flowers danced through the soft breeze, caressing his cheeks and neck.

Just as they were crossing over the wooden bridge that led over the lotus pond, Garo shot forward. Jungkook didn’t chase after him until he heard a surprised yelp. His feet pounded over the bridge and up into the red and gold gazebo nestled against the bamboo trees. He froze upon seeing who Garo was attacking. Jimin was laughing as he fought off the dog with both hands, but useless to stop the tongue assaulting his face.

“Hello.”

Jimin jerked and his head shot up. He hurriedly straightened and inclined his head. “Hello.”

It had been almost a week since their return from Seokjuk Forest. Hoseok had told him about running into Jimin and Taehyung. Jungkook had grumbled that he didn’t care, but he’d listened attentively as Hoseok spoke about how Jimin no longer looked like a wild spirit and seemed to be getting along nicely with Taehyung. 

Hoseok was right. His old clothes used to leave his wrists and ankles bare. His hair had been matted and his skin cracked with grime. Now, Jimin was dressed in a fine powdery hanbok that fit him so well, it could not have been Taehyung’s. The delicate richness of the color and the silk fit his reserved demeanor perfectly, falling about him like petals. His hair had been tamed, leaving it fluttering up softly in the night breeze. Jungkook cleared his throat, unnecessarily loud, fighting the blush as a result.

 “Is Lotus House to your liking?” He fought off a groan. What kind of question was that? This was why he didn’t mingle at social gatherings.

“It is.” There was something disarmingly open about Jimin’s expression. He even smiled at Jungkook as if he hadn’t spent their entire acquaintance running from Jungkook’s gaze. “Taehyung and Aeja-ssi are very kind.”

“It is in Taehyung’s nature to be kind,” he said bitterly.

Jimin cocked his head.

Jungkook cleared his throat again. “So what keeps you up tonight?” he blurted out.

“Taehyung had me drinking soju and it made me a little sick so I went out to clear my head.”

“Why would he do that?” He realized he had spoken too loud. Before he could apologize, he found Jimin laughing. He covered it with his hand, but the curving crescent of his eyes was too obvious.

“I only meant,” Jungkook began. “He should have taken your injury into account.”

“He did. He didn’t really let me drink much.”

“How is it?” His voice was quieter now. “Did Seolhyun see you?”

Jimin reached for his wounded arm as if on instinct. Jungkook had wanted to bring Jimin to Seolhyun right away, to get his wound looked at, but his brothers had convinced him that it would be better to wait a little so as not to bring attention. Besides, Lotus House had equal access to renowned physicians in the meantime.

“You worry too much,” Seokjin had teased, which was the sole reason Jungkook had avoided wandering this way. Even now, his brother's tease rang in his ears. “She did. It’s better now thanks to her, but it still aches a bit. And you?”

“It still hurts, but the wound has closed up.” He rushed on as if he had to explain everything. “I told her it was fine, but she insisted. She always insists and I didn’t want to make Namjoon-hyung upset so . . .” He waved a hand at the seats of the pavilion. “Would you like to sit?”

Surprise colored Jimin’s eyes and Jungkook was achingly close to withdrawing his invitation when Jimin smiled and took a seat.

Now it was his turn to be surprised. He had assumed Jimin had come here to be alone and he had never before shown any inclination that he wanted to converse with Jungkook. In fact, he had acted as if he had an aversion to him. Jungkook didn’t question him and simply sat, almost on the complete other end of the bench.

He watched intently as Jimin’s hands came around Garo’s head to scratch his ears. Garo was acting as if Jimin was his new favorite person and Jimin seemed absolutely enamored by him. Garo was probably a step up from Shiba after all.

They didn’t talk for a while. Jungkook fiddled with his hanbok, watching Jimin and Garo from the corner of his eye. He realized only a minute later that Jimin was lathering all that attention on Garo so he wouldn’t have to turn it on Jungkook. 

“You couldn’t sleep?” Jimin finally ventured, still scratching Garo’s brow. He spoke softly as if he wished his voice to be light enough to ride away with the wind. 

“No . . . I have a lot on my mind.”

Jimin made a small sound of understanding. 

Jungkook paused, rubbing his fingers in thought. His instinct was to stop there, to let the silence remain undisturbed and comfortable, but he found he didn’t want to. Perhaps it was the nighttime. Maybe it was the presence of a near stranger who felt warm enough to care. “My abeoji is looking for a suitor for me.” He fiddled with his hair, then stopped promptly upon realizing what he was doing.

There was a brief silence. Jungkook looked up. Jimin was smiling at Garo, but the dog sat silently at his heels. Jimin resumed stroking his head after a moment. “And how do you feel about that?”

He paused, studying the wooden paneling on the floor. He hesitated because he hadn’t particularly stopped to think about what he thought. As close as he was with his brothers and Hoseok, they often didn’t converse about these things. Jungkook tended to blame himself for that. “That I won’t like whoever my father picks out for me,” he admitted.

He looked up to meet Jimin’s gaze. His eyes appeared almost black in the night. “Why not?”

“It . . . is not that I believe he is of poor taste. I simply . . . don’t think he understands me.”

“Have you told him this?”

He shook his head. “No.” He glanced up to meet Jimin’s eyes again. Slowly, a small smile drew out Jungkook’s lips.

“What?”

“I thought you didn’t like me.” Normally, he wouldn’t be able to fathom being this forward with a near stranger, but again, it was the effects of the night.

Jimin pressed his lips together firmly. “I don’t not like you.”

“But you don’t like me.”

“Do I have to like you?”

He shook his head, cheeks burning though his lips still curved. “No.”

Jimin laughed lightly as he got to his feet. He conducted a brief bow as Jungkook’s shoulders dropped. When Jimin raised his head, his eyes glimmered. Maybe it was just the fireflies’ glow melding with the soft lanterns reflected onto them, but Jungkook wondered how they could be so enchanting. “Sleep well, my lord.”

“You too,” was all Jungkook mustered before Jimin turned and walked away. Soon, he had disappeared among the sprawling trees and bushes, Jungkook watching him all the way. “Good night,” he whispered.

Perhaps he was insane, but he thought the night whispered back to him. 

Good night.

He smiled, tilting his head back to look at the stars.

Chapter Text

Jimin could not fall asleep after his encounter with Jungkook. 

It was as if thinking about him had conjured him from the shadows of the lotus garden. He had half the mind to run away. He was glad he hadn’t, even if the desire had never truly subsided. The experience was a coil of anxiety laced with an intoxicating warmth. He had drunk enough inebriating things that night to know he shouldn’t dwell too long or he would say or do something unwise. It made matters worse that when Jimin made to go, it was as clear as day that Jungkook had wanted him to stay. It only made him leave faster.

Afterwards, he laid in bed and stared at the ceiling, thinking of the way Jungkook played with his hair, clearly affected by nerves, of the way he tilted his head when he was confused, his eyes widening just a bit. He listened intently and sincerely, his eyes drinking everything in, even the starlight. Jimin smiled at the thought then frowned immediately. 

The next morning, he ventured to Taehyung’s room before even dressing or washing up. He didn’t bother knocking, knowing Taehyung would be asleep and instead slipped inside. The servants had yet to come by and tidy up after Taehyung so his shoes and discarded clothing littered the floor. Jimin tucked the shoes to the side, chiding Taehyung in his head. Taehyung was sprawled on his bed, pillow tucked between his legs and hugged to his chest. He peered out at Jimin before shutting his eyes resolutely. 

“Taehyung,” he whispered.

Taehyung only groaned in reply.

Jimin sighed and ventured forward until he was standing above him. He sat down on the floor, crossing his feet at the ankle beneath him. “Taehyung,” he repeated. “I talked to Jungkook last night.”

Taehyung’s eyes flew open instantly and he sat up abruptly, his hair sticking up and coming down in a flurry. His hands clasped Jimin’s wrists as he asked, “Really? Where? When? What did you speak of?”

“The lotus garden and like I said, last night. Nothing really. It was brief and----”

“Was he rude to you? Jungkook has a habit of being rude.”

“No, he wasn’t, but he did tell me something.”

Taehyung leaned forward a bit, the wild ends of his hair falling down against his cheeks as he did. “What?”

Jimin paused. “He said that his father is looking for a suitor for him.”

Taehyung blinked. “Oh . . .” He released Jimin’s hands and settled back on his bed, staring at the far wall.

“What do I do?”

“Jiminie.” He shook his head. “I can’t answer that for you.”

“But----”

“I know what answer you are hoping for, as do you. You just have to be brave enough to take it.” Taehyung shifted so he was facing Jimin once more, crossing his legs, the sheets twisting up in his legs. “There is a banquet being held in a few days time. It is the beginning of a week of festivities where the clans come to meet and mingle.”

“You cannot mean to imply that I should attend?” He couldn’t help the alarm that rose in his voice.

“You must.” He grabbed Jimin’s hands, eyes alight once more. “Don’t talk to him if you do not wish, but if you decide to, it will be the perfect opportunity to do so. There will be strangers aplenty. You will blend right in. You might even get to show off a little if it turns out well. It will not hurt to attend. It’s perfect!”

“I don’t know, Taehyung. The more I see him, the more. . .”

“Your fear of being hurt is understandable, but frankly, it is stupid.”

Jimin looked up at him in shock and found a trace of anger in the other boy’s face. 

“Everyone dreams of meeting their soulmate. Some find them only to lose them. You have found them, but you are making it your choice to lose them.” He leaned forward, the anger slipping from his eyes with the single tear that curled down his cheek. He placed a hand on Jimin’s shoulder. “Jimin, we all have choices to make, but sometimes they aren’t the ones we think they are.”

Jimin stared up at his friend’s eyes. They were earnest and sad. He wanted to ask Taehyung why he cried. He wanted to ask what happened. But instead, he leaned forward and brushed the tear off his cheek. 

Taehyung laughed, the sound coming a little garbled. “Stop,” he said, almost a whine. “I am supposed to be comforting you.”

Jimin just laughed. “Okay,” he said. “I will go.”

The days following Jimin’s talk with Taehyung, Jimin found himself lingering in the garden. He didn’t sit at the gazebo again, but he did seat himself at a nearby tree, a book in hand. He needn’t bother. Jungkook did not appear again. Taehyung claimed it was because the other clans were arriving daily and Jungkook was busy greeting them and playing the role of a host’s son. Jimin chose to believe that excuse, even if he was somewhat glad for it.

Jungkook warred over if he should feel enthusiastic about the gathering or not. On one hand, his home would be invaded by countless strangers, some of which Jungkook knew spoke sweet words only to spit poison when his back was turned. On the other hand, he would get to see what few friends he had outside of the Kim clan after so long.

“Ah, you’re another year older,” a familiar voice sounded and Jungkook turned to see Hoseok heading over with none other than Min Yoongi, second son of the Min clan of the Gyeongsan region. He clapped Jungkook’s shoulder with a nod. “I’m sorry to have missed your birthday.”

“Yoongi-hyung,” Jungkook exclaimed, pulling the man into an embrace that the older pretended to refuse before giving in with a few pats on his back. “I forgive you because you’re here now. How is it at home?”

Yoongi pulled back, a snarl on his lips. “Halmeoni is still annoyed that I dared to ask your family for help in cleansing our lands. You would think after the mess the clan leaders made, she would have a little more humility.”

Hoseok placed a hand on Yoongi’s shoulder, something so small capable of quelling some of his anger. Hoseok was Yoongi’s soulmate after all. They had yet to be married, primarily because Yoongi’s family, particularly his grandmother, was still pushing the idea that Yoongi marry another noble of higher standing for political reasons and keep Hoseok as a partner.

It wasn’t the first time this had been done, but Yoongi was not the type to head the practical when his heart beckoned otherwise. His hyungs’ story was much more entertaining than Namjoon and Seolhyun’s story and not just because Jungkook had known both of them personally before it was figured out.

As soon as Yoongi had found out that Hoseok was his soulmate, he hadn’t hesitated to gather his family and announce to them that he had found his soulmate and had no intentions of marrying anyone else. According to sources, his grandmother had lost it. His family had begged for him to reconsider the other options. His grandmother had threatened. Yoongi had brandished a sword. His mother had cried and his father had fainted.

Seokjin claimed it was why Yoongi’s grandfather had croaked the next day. It all resulted in Hoseok being thoroughly traumatized and Yoongi vowing to never return until his family accepted Hoseok.  Jungkook had been utterly devastated at having missed all the fun. He had only been thirteen so he had been sent to bed early. Apparently, all the fun things happened once the kids were tucked away and the real wine started flowing.

Yoongi held fast to his word, living in one of Seokjin’s properties for a year before his elder brother managed to convince both his grandmother and parents to give in to Yoongi’s demands. It hadn’t been an easy year for either of them, but it had brought not just Hoseok and him closer, but Yoongi closer to Jungkook and his brothers.

“Ah, my friend, we meet too soon!” Seokjin exclaimed before falling onto Yoongi in a big embrace.

“How is your halmeoni?” Namjoon asked, coming up beside Jungkook, grinning at Seokjin’s throttle on Yoongi.

Yoongi’s nose wrinkled, Seokjin still hanging off of him. “She hasn’t died yet,” he said, simply and Hoseok slapped his shoulder as Seokjin hid his smile.

“Well let’s pray for her good health,” Namjoon said, amiably in case someone was listening and they all weakly agreed. 

Jungkook happened to glance to the left in time to catch sight of Taehyung entering the banquet hall, but he wasn’t alone. Jungkook’s aunt was miraculously by his side, but that wasn’t the only reason Jungkook’s attention was caught. Beside them, Jimin entered the hall, dressed in a lavender hanbok with white patterning stitched across the sleeves. It seemed that he had unofficially donned the colors of the Lotus House. Taehyung bent down a bit to whisper in Jimin’s ear, a serious look on his face before straightening, a bright smile springing onto his face as one of his many friends approached.

“Oh, look Sungmo made it,” Namjoon said. “And she brought Jimin.”

This caught the other’s attention, finally getting Seokjin off of Yoongi. Luckily, Taehyung caught sight of them first and immediately grabbed Jimin’s arm. He whispered something to his mother before slipping towards them.

Taehyung enthusiastically greeted everyone, inclining his head in respect when needed, though he made sure to shoot Jungkook a smirk before gesturing to Jimin and saying, “This is my friend, Park Jimin of Gyeongsan. I met him on my last journey down there.” His gaze dared Jungkook or any of them to contradict him, but none of them missed a beat. He wondered how Taehyung had managed to convince Jimin to come here.

“Do you have any relation to the Park clan of Gyeongsan?” Yoongi asked.

Jimin shook his head. “Not that I know of.”

Lucky for him, Yoongi wasn’t the type to question extensively and soon enough, the attention was off of Jimin. Well, not all of it of course. Eventually, talk went to who would participate in the competitions tomorrow. Every year, the youth of each clan participated in a variety of competitions. Normally, Jungkook entered every one and won all categories, but this year, he had been forbidden from participating by Seolhyun. He felt perfectly fine, but she had gently explained that it wasn’t worth it. Jungkook had to disagree, but said okay to please her only to plan on participating later anyways.

Yoongi never participated, saying it was boring enough to watch, much less participate as well. Seokjin couldn’t participate in the archery game due to his tender hand, but Hoseok would. Taehyung was participating much more than he had in previous years, possibly because of Namjoon and Jungkook’s lack of presence in the roster.

“You’re really only participating in one game?” Yoongi remarked, eyeing Jungkook’s body as if he could see the injuries himself. It seemed Hoseok hadn’t told him the full extent of everything that had happened.

He shrugged. “We’ll see.”

“Will you participate?” Seokjin asked suddenly, drawing the attention back to Jimin who had been as quiet as the dead. He looked slightly startled at being addressed.

He shook his head quickly. “I’m not very good at much.”

“That’s not---”

Namjoon elbowed Jungkook in the side, cutting him off. Yoongi shot him a look.

“Well, hopefully you change your mind if you are feeling up to it. It’s a lot of fun,” Seokjin said.

Jimin nodded. Jungkook wondered if he would change his mind. He was curious to see what he was capable of when they weren’t running or fighting for their lives.

As for the banquet, there was a section towards the end where performers danced to music and mingled their magic within their movements. Jungkook had heard stories of what his mother had been capable of. Not by his father or even his other relatives. No one within the family tended to speak about his mother, almost as if she didn’t exist. He had heard about her from people outside of the clan. They said her dance could bewitch anyone. Some spoke of it with suspicion, the same way they spoke of Namjoon’s ability to convince through speech. But others spoke of it like it was a miracle to behold. Her movements had taken their sorrows and worries away, shrouding them with a quiet joy that dreamed of years later. These dancers did not ease Jungkook’s mind, but they were pleasant to look at.

His mind wandered through the performance, landing on Jimin. He was clearly favored by air. He wondered what movements his slight body could produce. He found him across the hall, seated in the back with Taehyung, watching the performance with an open awe. Of course. He had never seen something like this before. Jungkook thought of all the other things he had never witnessed or even thought to miss. He slid back and forth between feeling pity and wonder. He didn’t realize he spent the entire performance like that until the hall clapped and startled him from his reverie.

Jimin couldn’t bring himself to stay in the banquet hall for long.

As soon as Kim Hyungwon entered the hall, Jimin felt himself become small. He hid behind Taehyung who did not say a word about Jimin’s change in demeanor. The only time Jimin stepped out from behind him was when the dancers performed. But even their enchanting performance could not hold Jimin once it was over. He had never been around this many people before. Even near the wall, it felt suffocating.

He whispered to Taehyung if he could leave. Taehyung was already shifting to follow. Jimin placed a hand on his arm. “You should stay,” he smiled. Taehyung watched him a moment before nodding reluctantly.

Jimin slipped out easily enough, the late evening air greeting him readily. He went far enough down the arcade that the guards at the banquet hall were a good distance away. From where he stood, he could see the entire city sprawled out like a maze of red tiled roofs beyond the walls of the Kim palace. The sun was heading towards the distant horizon, but there was a good hour or so of sunlight left.

His instincts ingrained in him from his time in the forest told him it was time to head home and settle in for rest. But the banquet showed no sign of ending soon.

Just like that, he felt a sharp pain. He missed the ancient whispering trees. The sky felt boundless and threatening without their dark crowns of trees pinning it up, as if it might just fall on him. He missed the dense moss. His fine boots felt unanchored against the finely cut stone. Even his shadow stretched further than he had ever seen it before.

A while later, he heard someone else step out onto the arcade with a sigh. He glanced around the column to find that it was Jungkook. Their eyes both widened upon meeting each other, but Jungkook recovered first, offering a small smile. Jimin smiled back, but really because he had begun to understand the meaning of “cute” that had eluded him before. Jungkook hurried over much to Jimin’s delight and apprehension. He stopped a few feet from Jimin, peering down at him with wide doe eyes. “It’s difficult with so many people,” he confessed.

Jimin warmed at the commonality. “I understand. It’s the same for me.”

Jungkook shuffled a bit on the stone walkway, glancing over his shoulder then back.

“You can sit,” Jimin finally said.

 He looked back as if surprised. He didn’t say anything as he quickly took a seat against the column to Jimin’s left, putting about two feet between them.

“People will talk,” Jungkook said with a chuckle.

“About what?” Jimin asked, alarmed.

Jungkook looked over, alarmed as well. “N-No, I mean only that . . .” He broke into a hesitant smile. “I’m supposed to stay inside and enjoy the banquet. It is in my honor after all. Mine and my hyungs.”

“Oh. . . Will your abeoji be upset?”

Jungkook shrugged a shoulder. He didn’t seem too bothered by that idea. “I’d rather be out here.”

“Why?” Jimin wanted to curse himself. Taehyung had urged him to speak to Jungkook. Jimin had said he wouldn’t and this was why.

Jungkook smiled again and really, it wasn’t fair for it to be so sweet. Jimin smiled down at his hands. “I am curious about you.”

“Hm.” Jimin was glad he was looking down. It gave him a semblance of control. “What do you want to know?”

Jungkook took a while to answer. “Who taught you magic like that?”

Jimin almost laughed. Trust a son of a warrior clan to ask such a question. “It was Shiba actually.” 

Jungkook’s eyes widened. “Really?”

Jimin smiled faintly, nodding.

“Did you . . .” He seemed to be searching for the right words. “Care for her?” He seemed to dread the answer.

Jimin had never stopped to think of it that way. “I don’t know,” he replied. “I . . . She was my master I suppose, but it was my eomma was the one who cared for me. Shiba only trained me because of Eomma’s sacrifice.” After a beat of silence, he said, “Is that all?”

Jungkook still seemed stuck on the reality of Shiba, but he was quick to shift his attention away. “Are you on the run from the law?”

Jimin looked over at him and Jungkook grinned, teasing while his other smiles had been innocent. 

“You act like you might be.”

Jimin had to regard it for a second. He wanted to be as honest with Jungkook as he could. “No, I am not.”

Jungkook chuckled. “Good.”

“May I have a turn?”

Jungkook nodded, a little too eager and Jimin bit back a smile.

“Why did you come to Seojuk that day?” It was a question Jimin had wanted to ask all the warriors who ventured into the forest, but there was only ever blood left to ask.

The eagerness ebbed a bit as his shoulders fell. “Every year, my hyungs take me anywhere I want to go. Just Seokjin-hyung, Namjoon-hyung, and Hoseokie-hyung. No guards or backup to test how we fare against an array of beasts. I suppose I got too cocky this year.” He winced at his own words. There was shame nestled on the curl of his shoulders, obvious in the setting sun.

What would have happened had Jungkook and his brothers been the only warriors to come that day? Would they have screamed like the others so Jimin could hear, so Jimin would come? Or what if Jimin had decided that this wasn’t the day he saw what the beasts did to warriors? Jimin decided a change of topic would be best. “Yoongi-ssi and Hoseok-ssi are soulmates, right?”

Jungkook smiled at the mention of the two. Jimin felt a small triumph at the expression. Hoseok had said that he was a servant of sorts to the youngest Kim, but he felt more like a brother. He was also a lord of his own right which was confusing enough to Jimin. “Yes. They knew each other in passing for years before they ended up on the same mission. Normally they never would have met hadn’t we already been in Gyeongsan for a gathering like this one.” A small frown overtook Jungkook’s features. “Yoongi-hyung’s grandmother is the head matriarch of the Min clan and she is rather set on the idea that Yoongi-hyung marry another and keep Hoseok-hyung as a warrior partner.”

Jimin frowned. “What is the point of that?”

“It has been done before. Yoongi-hyung has been engaged to another since before he was born. He has clan obligations that demand he marry for the benefit of the clan’s relations, not his own desires.” He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. Yoongi-hyung won’t let go of Hoseok-hyung no matter what.”

Jimin marveled at the conviction in his tone as if there was nothing more evident than his friends’ love for one another and their inevitable happiness.

“Besides, I pray to the gods that she passes within the year every night before I go to sleep.”

“Jungkook!”

Jungkook laughed. “I am not apologetic! She threw a shoe at Yoongi-hyung and made Hoseok-hyung cry. Why would I be lenient towards someone like that?” Though he smiled, there was a sharpness to his gaze that startled Jimin.

“You really love your hyungs.” Jimin felt a dull ache. His mother had been the only one that he could have said brought that sharpness to his voice. Now he had no one. No one to fight for and no one to fight for him.

But things can change. . . are changing . . .

Jungkook made a face as he snapped his gaze away and Jimin laughed, dropping back against the column. 

“Ah, how cute.” He simply smirked back at Jungkook’s scowl, proud to now have the word in his arsenal. Taehyung was teaching him a great deal more. He couldn’t wait to try them on Jungkook.

“Whatever,” Jungkook mumbled, only prompting more laughter on Jimin’s part.

That night he fell asleep easily, his chest warm and mind quiet for once.

He knew it wouldn’t last, but he held onto it just the same.

Chapter Text

The first day of competitions held mild weather and an amiable breeze. Jungkook felt he had too much energy to simply be sitting around, but he had made up his mind. He would simply have to suffer it. The look his father sent him was displeased, but Jungkook could only scowl to himself. “If I am in the games, he takes no note, but when I’m not, he does,” Jungkook muttered. 

“Perhaps you should rather be doing what you want than what you think he’ll like,” Seokjin said and Jungkook glared at the ground much to his hyung's amusement.

They were located out in large field near the city borders with a perfect view of the sea nearby. Large white pavilions had been erected to provide shade for the spectators, the long openings tied to the side. Jungkook’s group was seated beside Taehyung and his collection of friends, including Jimin and his eomma. Sungmo was not trying to converse with anyone as was usual. Instead, she sat far back, a small tea set displayed before her. Jimin sat beside her, seeming to prefer her company over the raucous crowd of Taehyung’s people. Jungkook’s own group consisted of a few of Seokjin’s friends, along with the usuals. Jungkook tucked himself behind Yoongi and Hoseok, yet somehow he ended up beside Seolhyun. He cast a brief look at her from the corner of his eye, hoping to be discreet, but she was already smiling at him, catching him quickly. He blushed and darted his gaze to the ground.

His sister-in-law was beauty woven from poetry. Her demeanor was effortless yet sincere. He sometimes wished she weren't so kind because it would less painful when he was less than kind. Before he could pray that she didn’t speak, she began to talk. 

“How are you, Jungkook?” she asked. Her voice was silk, comforting and familiar when it should be neither of those things.

“I am fine.” He quickly added, “And you?”

There was a pause that brought Jungkook’s gaze back to Seolhyun. She was smiling, a gentle smile as she looked at him. “Actually, I have news I wish to share with you. Namjoon-ah said I could be the one to share it with you.”

His interest piqued higher and he found himself turning towards her a bit. “What is it?”

“I am with child. Abeoji does not know yet.”

Jungkook felt as though all the weight in his head disappeared and now his mind was swimming aimlessly. “W-Why did you want to tell me personally?”

Her eyes watched him carefully, but not as if she wanted to peel away each one of his layers, striping each secret thought bare. No, her eyes were gentle and in a way, they reminded him of Namjoon’s. “I have come to think of you fondly, Jungkook, as a little brother. With all the tales that Namjoon-ah has told me, I feel that I already know you even if you don’t wish for me to know.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but had to stop himself. 

She simply smiled. “I won’t say I understand because how can I? I simply wish for you to share this journey with me and Namjoon-ah. He and I would want nothing more.”

Jungkook lowered his gaze until it fell on her clearly unbothered gut. The bell-shape of her hanbok skirt showed no sign of disturbance. It was odd to think something would be growing in there. Was growing in there. He shuddered to think about it. But at the same time, he felt a small warmth open his chest and allow him to smile. “Thank you for sharing this with me,” he said sincerely.

He found it easier to sit through the games after that. They didn’t talk, but for once, their silence was accepted and warm. At one point, he found Namjoon grinning over at him like an idiot. Jungkook tried to frown at him, but only managed halfway before a bright grin erupted on his face.

It was some time later when suddenly Seokjin shoved Jungkook’s back, causing him to spill some of his water on his hanbok. Jungkook was ready to spin around and smack his hyung when he was stopped by Seokjin’s grinning face. “Join the race,” he said.

“W-Why?”

“Why not?” he demanded. “You have to defend our honor. Our participants keep losing.”

“You do it! Are you not the eldest?”

Seokjin rolled his eyes as if what Jungkook said wasn’t the truth. “I am not prepared to get sweaty today. Imagine what it would do for my complexion if I did.”

“Jungkook-ah, we’re getting ruined out there,” Namjoon said, leaning over to whisper, though Yoongi and Hoseok heard anyways.

“I bet if I ran, I would still beat your runner,” Yoongi mused and Hoseok snorted.

“Aish, get off me,” he grumbled, throwing his shoulders back in order to get his brother off of them. Seokjin just laughed and punched his spine, saying, “Good job,” before hurrying back to his spot. Jungkook ignored the obnoxious cheers of his hyungs and Seolhyun as he stepped out from underneath the pavillion, muttering under his breath. A loud bellow erupted from behind him, clearly from Taehyung. 

“Go, Jimin and Jungkook!”

Jungkook faltered in his steps and immediately found Jimin at the starting line, looking wide-eyed and frankly scared. Jungkook fell into line beside him. “Do you know what you’re doing?”

Jimin jumped at the sound of his voice. “I don’t know the course,” Jimin said, morosely.

“Me neither,” Jungkook admitted. 

“Go down the valley and run along the forest edge before looping back through the forest and coming out from there,” the boy next to Jimin said. It was Lee Jongin. He smiled as he looked down at both of them, especially Jimin who tilted his head back a little to meet his eyes. 

Jimin smiled. “Thank you.”

“What family are you running for? I don’t think I have seen you here before.”

“He’s running for mine,” Jungkook said. “But you don’t have to if Taehyung forced you to.” He directed the last part at Jimin.

Jimin’s nose wrinkled. “I know,” he muttered. “I’ll run, but I won’t win.” He glanced at everyone around him who were all more toned and taller than him before giving Jungkook a raised brow. Jungkook laughed. 

Before anything else could be said, a voice cried out for them to take their positions. Jungkook quickly fell into place. He knew he wasn’t going to win. He hadn’t been training for the run or anything really, but he would still try. He glanced at Jimin and found him practically jittering with nerves. Without thinking, Jungkook reached out a hand and placed it on Jimin’s wrist. His eyes bounced over and met Jungkook’s. “Whisper a wish,” Jungkook whispered. “Whisper it and run for it.”

He let go of his wrist just as the horn blew and then he was gone.

Namjoon made his way over to Taehyung’s pavillion, bowing to Sungmo as he entered. “Sungmo,” he said, inclining his head and she nodded without a word, looking back to nothing. His sungmo was not cold to him or his brothers, but there was a distinct distance that she enforced that they abided by. None of them had to say it for them to know that it was their abeoji’s gaze that kept them back. Maybe Sungmo had other reasons as well, but he had never asked. There was always the obvious guilt that followed him around. He didn’t have to help his abeoji isolate her and Taehyung. He didn’t have to, but he did because it was much less difficult to just not resist. 

He made his way over to Taehyung who noticed his approach first and easily hopped to his feet. He was barefoot with a blade of grass tucked between his lips. He spit it out as they tucked themselves against the back of the pavilion. “I can understand why Seokjin is being the way he is, but I wasn’t expecting the same from you.”

Taehyung raised his brows in surprise, but quickly the look gave way to a grin that wasn’t utterly devoid of sharpness. People often underestimated Taehyung because of his light and bright demeanor, but Namjoon had always seen that spark, that flash of intelligence that more people needed to learn to fear. “What? I just want what’s good for my friend.”

Namjoon raised a brow. “So you care for him?”

Taehyung looked away to the field where the runners used to be. They were long gone by now. “Yes,” he said simply, but they both knew just how big a statement that one word was.

Namjoon smiled despite himself. It had been a while since he had seen such a look in Taehyung’s eyes. “Do you know what he wants?” he asked.

Taehyung shook his head, laughing a bit. “I don’t think even he knows what he wants, which is why he keeps letting me push him towards Jungkook. It’s inevitable. He probably fears Jungkook’s reaction.”

Namjoon sighed. “Jungkook has never wished for his soulmate to return. He has always wished for their existence to be erased. I don’t know what he will think.”

“But that’s the beauty of all this. No one knows what will happen, so why fear it?”

Namjoon chuckled, giving his cousin a shake of the head. “If only it were that easy.”

Taehyung shrugged a shoulder, but Namjoon could tell his mind was hard at work. He was not taking this lightly, despite his words. He must truly care for Jimin. And Jungkook. “Why isn’t Seokjin-hyung getting the same lecture?”

Namjoon snorted. “Yes, as if he listens to me. Hyung does what he wants. He has long ago stopped putting Abeoji into equations regarding life. That is what I am here for, to think when none of you seem to bother.”

Taehyung just smiled at the jab though a sobered a bit. “I won’t let Samchon touch him,” he said almost to himself, but there was a deadly tint to his obsidian eyes. “He’s already taken too much from me. He can’t have him.”

It was possible that Taehyung had formed such a quick attachment to Jimin because of what he was to Jungkook, what he could mean to the Kim family. He was the perfect substitute for had been lost. But Namjoon didn’t say any of this. It was possible Taehyung knew this on some level, but it didn’t really matter in the end. There was enough anger and resentment simmering within his slender frame that Namjoon knew that if anything were to happen to Jimin, there was nothing he or anyone else could do to stop Taehyung. It could be possible that at the end of this, he might just lose two brothers instead. There wasn’t anything he could say, so he simply placed a hand on Taehyung’s shoulder. 

“Oh, look they’ve returned and----Ah, guess who is in the lead?” He shot Namjoon a smirk. They watched with rapt attention until the very last second when Jimin crossed the line first, leading to a sudden rupture of applause from Taehyung. Jimin looked shocked as he looked around as if unaware that they had moved at all. Jungkook was beaming and held out a hand for Jimin to shake. Namjoon had never seen Jungkook look so happy to lose. 

As always, Namjoon’s eyes trailed over to their abeoji and he saw the look of intent concentration that was narrowed in on Jimin. While everyone else rushed to congratulate Jimin, Namjoon hung back and contemplated what moves needed to be made next. It seemed things were going to escalate a lot quicker than he had anticipated. No worries, it was nothing he couldn’t handle.

At least he hoped that was true.

Chapter Text

Jimin didn’t know what he had been thinking. In fact, he was sure he hadn’t been thinking. To run . . .  he ever felt more connected to the world than in those moments when he felt like he was free. He hadn’t even realized he was running that quick until it was all over and Jungkook was grinning at him like he had won. Jungkook gave his hand a brief squeeze before his hand was gone as he disappeared into the crowd. As the adrenaline of the run whispered down to his feet and into the ground beneath him, he became aware of a gaze, much more overwhelming than the others. He knew who it was before he raised his head and met his gaze. 

Kim Hyungwon.

A cold fury rose through Jimin, so sudden and fierce he felt like he was breaking apart from the pressure. He didn’t care if Kim Hyungwon saw it in his gaze. Not in that moment at least. Later, he would blame it on the adrenaline that still thrummed through his blood, curling his magic around him like a whirlpool that raised the bottoms of hanboks around him. 

Their gaze was forcefully broken when a body barreled into his back, long arms enveloping him. “I didn’t think you would actually win,” Taehyung exclaimed. “But you never run out of surprises for me.” 

Jimin let himself fall into the easy warmth of Taehyung’s presence. He didn’t know when it started or why it was so easy, but this was one thing he didn’t want to question. “Tae, can we go?” he whispered.

Taehyng didn’t hesitate before slipping them out of the celebrations, even going as far as shooting near lethal looks when someone tried to congratulate Jimin. They slipped away without much notice, collecting Aeja-sii and headed back towards the city. Aeja-ssi normally didn’t attend these events, according to Taehyung, but she was this year to work as another set of eyes looking out for Jimin. He didn’t know how to express his gratitude, especially when it was clear she loathed being present. It wasn’t until they were walking away from the stables that Jimin told Taehyung about Hyungwon. Jimin couldn’t get the feeling of Kim Hyungwon’s gaze boring into the back of his head out of his mind.

Taehyung claimed he was overreacting. “Samchon likes to win,” Taehyung said, hands clasped around Jimin’s arm as they walked. “It is simple curiosity, but once he figures out you are my friend, he will lose interest as long as you don’t continue to draw attention to yourself.” 

“To be sure, why don’t you sit out the banquet for tonight?” Aeja-ssi suggested and Jimin readily agreed, though Taehyung pouted. Once that was settled, Aeja-ssi headed up the lengthy front steps of the Lotus House.

The two of them hung back, watching their shadows stretched far as the dying sun drowned everything in gold. Jimin glanced over at his friend, catching the pieces of gold that painted his features. “Why do you think Hyungwon-nim brought you back to the capital?” He had many questions, but he was still tentative, careful to pick the most docile first.

Taehyung shrugged. “I don’t know. Eomma doesn’t talk about it and I don’t ask.” There was no edge that warned Jimin back, but it was clear this was something Taehyung wondered at himself. “Perhaps to assuage his own guilt? Perhaps because he has a heart somewhere in there.” He caught Jimin’s eye and shook his head. “The world is not black and white, Jimin-ah. I won’t ever forgive Samchon for what he has done, but. . .” Taehyung’s face seemed to twist with the effort to say something. Eventually, he sighed. “Forget it.”

“Are you happy here?” he asked softly.

“I used to be very happy, so was Eomma.” He glanced at Jimin again. “I think we can be again.”

Jimin wondered over the piece of time Taehyung had clearly skipped over. The time after his mother had left. Did he really mean to imply that somehow Jimin could be a cause for happiness for both Taehyung and Aeja-ssi? He shook his head. His friend’s thoughts didn’t often make much sense to him.

The next day, the games continued, though this time Jimin was resolute against participating. Just as Taehyung had predicted, he did not feel Hyungwon’s gaze on him again. That did not mean he was left totally undisturbed. Jimin had decided to sit beside Taehyung today which was a big mistake. People flocked to Taehyung like he was the sun and they were helpless flowers. One of the people who came over was a man by the name of Lee Taemin. Jimin marveled at his graceful movements and though he wasn’t much taller than Jimin, his presence more than made up for it. He caught Jimin looking and smiled. “You must be Taehyung’s new friend,” he said. “Park Jimin, was it?”

Jimin felt Aeja-ssi’s gaze on him and he felt assured by it. He nodded. He had listened to Taehyung reassurances countless times already that he found himself a little more at ease today. “I saw you perform yesterday. I would have never have thought to use magic in such a way.”

Taemin smiled, though there was a hint of confusion in his eyes. “You’ve never seen a glamour dance before?”

Jimin shook his head.

“Not even street performers?”

Again, Jimin shook his head. 

Taemin laughed. “How peculiar. No worries, you will see your fair share during your stay here.”

Jimin managed to fall into an easy conversation with Taemin, one that was joined by his cousin, Jongin, soon after. Jimin marveled at the way they brought sparks to their fingertips with mere gestures. Apparently, it did not require much magical aptitude to do a glamour dance, but it did take discipline. Not only was there dance steps to memorize, one needed to concentrate their magic down to their fingertips or toes and in some cases, their lips. Jimin marveled at the little displays they showed him and it seemed they were equally amused by his easy fascination. 

His eomma’s soft, warm magic was nothing like the flashes of power the Lees showed him. It made him realize he had never even seen magic performed by anyone other than his eomma or himself before yesterday. Somehow the way the Lees performed their magic felt familiar and comforting, despite the contrast to Jimin’s own affinity.

Before he realized it, it was time for the final game and this time, Taehyung and the Lee cousins insisted he participate. He agreed for several reasons. First, he had sat out of all the other games and had found himself growing restless as everyone else had their fun.

Second, the entire time he had sat here, Kim Hyungwon had not glanced at him once.

Third, this was to be a grand group activity, not solo participation.

Fourth, Jungkook was participating after having sat out of almost every other game. Jimin refused to acknowledge that reason, but one glance at Taehyung and he knew what he was thinking. He made a point of putting a gap between him and Taehyung so he could escape his teasing, but that turned out to be a mistake. Taehyung got placed on a different team than Jimin almost immediately.

As it turned out, Jungkook happened to be the leader of the team he was on. Jimin tried not to dwell on the idea that Jungkook had chosen him to be on his team and rather early on in the process. As Jungkook spoke, there wasn’t a hint of self concious behavior. He never once reached for his hair. It wasn’t until Jungkook clapped his hands together once to scatter them that Jimin realized he had no idea what game they were playing. He only knew the games he had made up growing up and they were all played by himself. He scanned the crowd quickly for Taehyung, but landed on Jungkook instead.

“I don’t actually understand this game,” Jimin admitted, timidly.

For a second, it looked like Jungkook’s lips were fighting a smile, but then it was gone. “You can come with me and I’ll explain,” Jungkook said and Jimin gratefully fell into step with him. They weren’t alone, but it was only Jongin and Hoseok. Apparently, Seokjin, Namjoon and Yoongi weren’t participating, seated back at the pavilions. Jungkook explained the premise of the game quickly.

Two teams, two flags. Don’t let the opposing team’s players get your sash or you are captured. Get the flag first and bring it back to the base to win.

“You’re quick and agile so you can help us retrieve the enemy’s flag,” Jungkook said, tying a red sash on Jimin’s forearm with deft fingers. Jimin’s Mark burned almost painfully at having Jungkook’s fingers hovering just on the other side of a flimsy piece of cloth. But Jungkook’s hands were gone within seconds, leaving the sash tied loosely. 

The only rules were that no one was allowed inside the actual main structures of the Kim residence, but gardens and connecting pathways were allowed. All weapons had been removed and it was somewhat odd looking at Jungkook without his sword. It was odd for Jungkook as well. His hand kept fluttering to his hip then freezing before realizing nothing was supposed to be there. A furrow embedded itself in Jungkook’s brow. 

It was the first time Jimin had entered any part of the Kim residence that wasn’t a part of the Lotus property. His mind wandered far enough that Jungkook had to shoot a hand out to grab his arm to stop him from tripping over a low stone wall. “Jimin, pay attention,” he said, exasperated, but then his furrow was back.

Jimin snatched his arm back, heart pounding. He spoke without thinking. “I’m your elder, so stop calling me without honorifics,” he chided. In reality, he couldn’t care less about honorifics. They just muddled everything, but he had panicked. Jungkook’s hand had clasped itself over his Mark and he was sure he had felt the slight burn. But Jimin’s small outburst distracted him for the time being it seemed.

He grinned cheekily. “Are you sure you’re older than me?” He patted Jimin’s head. “It doesn’t seem like it.”

Jimin swatted his hand away. “I could take you down right now.”

A light danced gayly in Jungkook’s eyes as his nose wrinkled with a smile. “If you say so.”

Jimin was about to smack him again when they were interrupted. “Sorry to interrupt, but we have a flag to find,” Jongin said, though his smile was amused.

“Does anyone have an idea of where we might find the enemy’s flag?” Jimin asked.

“Yoonseok is arrogant. He would want to hide the flag himself,” Jongin said. Jimin had no idea who these people were, but he nodded just the same.

“I saw them head off towards the western wing, but that could have easily been to mislead us,” Hoseok said. 

“But how many players did he have with him?” Jungkook asked.

“About three, like us,” Hoseok replied.

Jongin snorted. “He really thinks he’s the stuff. If he only took three, he’s going to have a larger offensive team with some defense scattered around the general area.”

“From the western yard, you can only head towards the center. I set our team up in the blossom court, which is near the eastern yard,” Jungkook said, eyes darting around the garden they were currently stopped inside. Jimin was aware of just how crowded the garden was. Anyone could be hiding within the thick leaves. But if there was anyone sitting in there, they would have taken this chance to take out the three most formidable players on their team. Jimin had noticed the way the other team had eyed Jungkook. They truly wanted to beat him. “We would have heard a commotion if they set up that close to us.”

“Then central or western,” Hoseok nodded.

“The central gardens and yards are big which means a lot of entry points to watch out for despite the wide space it provides and the western spots are smaller, but not by much.” Jungkook narrowed his eyes then sharpened his gaze. “Okay, we have no choice, we have to check both.” Jungkook quickly relayed the numbers each section had, but before they could finish, a voice broke them apart. “I found Jungkook!” a voice hollered.

On instinct, Jimin clasped Jungkook’s hand. It was what his eomma used to do when they had stumbled upon something they shouldn't be seeing in the forest and must leave behind quickly. The garden allowed only select paths, causing Jongin and Hoseok split up with them almost instantly. Jungkook quickly took the lead, clearly knowing the grounds better than Jimin.

He wove his way easily through the arcades and courtyards, cutting through paths wedged between buildings into smaller courtyards. Quickly, the footsteps fell behind and Jungkook jerked to a stop. They were in a small dirt courtyard, clearly used by the servants rather than Kims. Jungkook glanced back at the narrow pathway they had dashed up to get here then at the closed wooden doors surrounding them. They weren’t allowed to go inside.

“Where are we?” Jimin asked, though he had an inkling where it might be.

Jungkook grinned over at him. “The western yards.”

Jimin grinned back, knowing Jungkook couldn’t have been running aimlessly.

“Can you get us up there?” Jungkook asked, pointing to the low-rise roof. As far as Jimin was aware, the manor spread out on only one floor. Most parts of the manor had higher ceilings; however, this was the servants’ quarters. The roof was much lower. 

Jimin did it without thinking. He let his magic unfurl from him and push him up. It was much more controlled than what he had done in the forest since he had done this before. This was a simple jump that landed them in a gentle flutter on the topmost tile on the roof. Their hanboks whispered down around them.

“Your magic . . .” Jungkook began and Jimin stiffened. He hadn’t thought this would affect Jungkook considering how little effort it took, but then he remembered their clasped hands. Before Jimin could take his hand back, Jungkook said, “It feels nice. Like the summer wind, the kind that’s so full and soft, you want to lay your head down on it.” He was smiling so brightly, enamored by something so simple that Jimin almost wished to cry.

Instead, he released his hand and returned a closed-mouth smile. “Let’s go.”

Jungkook missed Jimin’s hand as soon as it disappeared, but he chided himself for the stupid thought. There was a game to win after all. 

They raced over the roof, ducking out of sight whenever anyone shot into sight down below, but no one bothered to look up. They moved slowly, remaining on the outer side of the pitched roof since people were less likely to come by on this side. They peeked over the summit of the roof and found themselves in an inner courtyard, close to the farthest courtyard that some called the southern yard, though Jungkook referred to it as the training yard. Jungkook looked while Jimin watched his back. 

“See anything?” Jimin whispered, his voice riding the breeze as if he were right next to him, but there was a good distance between them.

Jungkook nodded. “There’s a large number of them. I think we might be----”

A pebble hit the back of Jungkook’s head and he whirled around, hand clutching the roof tiles for stability. His annoyance turned to relief as he caught sight of Hoseok and Jongin grinning up at him. Jungkook quickly gestured over to the courtyard that they were watching over and though from their side, they couldn’t see anything, they understood. They disappeared. Jungkook settled his chest against the roof and waited. Jimin remained lax beside him, though his predatory gaze watched intently. Jungkook only listened. Suddenly exclamations of surprise then anger that darted passed them and into the next courtyard. Jungkook and Jimin launched to their feet in unison.

Their luck ran out it seemed as Jimin grabbed his hanbok to warn him, but it was too late. But it was almost forgivable upon seeing the way everyone's eyes bugged. "They're on the roof!" someone yelled and they all started scrambling. The people Jungkook had been watching looked around stupefied since Jungkook and Jimin were nowhere in sight. They ran anyways. Jungkook felt the odd desire to laugh.

"Up ahead!" Jimin exclaimed and Jungkook saw just what he meant. He grinned and launched forward, the terracotta tiles clacking beneath his boots as he raced forward. He leapt off the roof, landing on the balls of his feet, propelling himself forward into a tuck and roll using the momentum of his fall. The flag fluttered not even twelve paces from him on a pole. He shot forward just as the players placed to guard them realized he was suddenly not the only ones in their territory. They had stupidly decided to watch the entrances only and had been distracted by Hoseok and Jongin’s disturbance.

No one had expected they’d come from above.

He didn’t slow his momentum as he reached out a hand and grabbed the pole, the bottom tip snapping off into a jagged end. He twisted his upper body and his gaze immediately zoned in on Jimin. "Catch!" he yelled and threw the post with all his might. A second later, three players grabbed him, tackling him to the ground, knocking the air out of his lungs. Greedy hands yanked his sash off his bicep as knees crushed his limbs.

The player cheered, yelling, “I got the Golden Beast’s sash!” But he couldn't care less because though the post should have fallen, a breeze snatched it and thrust it straight into Jimin's hand and he was off running. So Jungkook just laughed and laughed.

Jimin ran like his life depended on it and for once, it didn’t. The thought flushed him with warmth and thrust a spring through every step, launching him forward further and faster. The opposing team players had managed to get onto the roof as well, but they did not take into account the treacherous terrain of the roof. Jimin managed because he remained directly in the center, pole clutched in one hand, the bright blue flag snapping with every jerk of his arm.

Suddenly, he was met with the end of the roof and he lept off, landing in a stone courtyard, the impact vibrating through his bones. He didn’t have time to curse the pain for people with blue sashes came dashing down the arcades. He darted out of the courtyard and almost ran straight into someone else. Their eyes widened in unison upon catching sight of each other’s sashes. Jimin twisted, but a hand caught onto his sleeve.

There was the sound of cloth tearing right before Jimin lurched back. He took off, catching sight of his crimson sash still attached to his bicep as he did. The others had closed in within Jimin’s brief delay. He could practically feel their breaths puffing out against his neck. It only proved to drive Jimin further. Maybe he was flying again and the sound of his boots against the floor was just his heart. 

His eyes widened and his heart leapt just as he caught sight of their home base. The six people they had set to guard their flag cried out in surprise as well as those who had been captured. His teammates rushed forward, abandoning their flag and crashed into his pursuers. A chorus of pained exclamations behind him allowed him to soar into their home base, slapping their own flag as he passed it by. He threw the flag in the air as his teammates burst into cheers, throwing their fists into the air.

Hoseok and Jongin flew into the courtyard, their faces immediately breaking out into wide grins. Taemin embraced him as everyone else rushed around him. Somewhere in the distance, a horn blew, but Jimin was barely paying attention, floating on the high of victory. 

He suddenly caught sight of Jungkook as he and his previous captors rushed into the courtyard, all flushed and sweaty. Jungkook’s grin was brilliance and gold, pulling Jimin out of the crush of people, ignoring the knock of bodies against his limbs. He opened his mouth and---

Suddenly Taehyung was standing in front of him, his hands clasping Jimin’s upper arms. “Tae----”

“Your sleeve is ripped,” he hissed.

Jimin’s brow began to furrow, but then he felt the slight whisper of air against his bicep. A rush of cold swept away the airy warmth from before as he clamped a hand down on his left shoulder. Taehyung swept out of the way just as Jungkook appeared. His eyes first took in his face, then darted to his shoulder.

His smile teetered a bit. “Is that a wound?” He reached out, most likely on instinct, but Jimin jerked back. His eyes widened just like Jungkook’s. 

“I. . . It’s fine. It’s just a scratch.”

Jungkook’s brow furrowed, but he tried for a light laugh. “Why hold it so tightly? You look as though you’ll cut off the blood flow. There’s no shame in getting hurt in a game without weapons.”

“You never care this much when I get hurt,” Taehyung said, raising a brow.

Jungkook’s gaze lingered on Jimin as if he refused to be distracted, but they both knew Taehyung would get what he wanted. Jungkook’s nose crinkled. “You never get hurt. You just lounge around all day.”

Taehyung scoffed as it weren’t the truth. “Come on, Jimin. Let’s go see about that scratch.” He shot Jungkook one last look before steering Jimin away. His fingers were taunt against Jimin’s flesh. “Jimin,” he began once they had successfully slipped away.

“I know,” Jimin cut in, but Taehyung scowled, releasing his arm.

“No, you don’t. This isn’t a game, Jimin. Jungkook isn’t a game.”

“ I know ,” Jimin hissed back, but Taehyung simply shook his head, stepping away.

That night Jungkook stepped onto the gazebo with nothing but a whisper. His dog wound itself through Jimin’s legs. The soft creak of the wood as Jungkook sat mingled with the cicadas and crickets. “What’s his name?” Jimin asked finally, shifting his thumbs over the dog’s brow, smiling down at the excited face. 

“Garo,” Jungkook said. There was something quiet about him tonight. It was odd. Jungkook was often quiet, yet it was as if his aura had retreated as well. Jimin found himself staring at Jungkook who watched the panel of the floor as if watching for shifting creatures. Suddenly, Jungkook snapped his gaze up to meet Jimin’s and said, “Show me some magic.”

“Why?”

“I like it.” When those three words didn’t seem like enough, more bubbled out of his lips. “Namjoon-hyung’s magic is in his voice. When I was little, he used to paint stories with his words. Seokjin-hyung melds magic with his hands. He used to create little flowers for me before I began demanding all other kinds of things. When you use your magic, I . . . it feels nice.” It was clear by the fall of Jungkook’s lips that that was not all that he wanted to say. Jimin understood, better than Jungkook did, even if Jimin had yet to feel the power Jungkook held inside him. He had felt it brush against his skin when he had clasped his hand for the first time. Something warm . . . something painful. It was only because he had been expecting it that he had understood it for what it was. Jungkook did not know so he would never understand.

“Okay,” he whispered as he raised a hand and waved it passed Jungkook’s ear.

Something twisted then unfurled inside him when he saw the sweet curl of Jungkook’s mouth at the ripple of air that caressed his cheek. Jimin blew air from his lips and Jungkook laughed as a gust ruffled his hair back from his face. The laughter bubbled from Jimin’s lips as well and soon he was giggling as he sent gentle gusts of air pushing against Jungkook, ushering him out of his seat.

The wind curled around Jungkook, turning him around and around. Jungkook spun on his heel, eyes bright as the air tugged at his hanbok, his hair and his hands, insistent and gentle, dropping white petals from the nearby trees into his dark hair.

Jungkook suddenly held out a hand and Jimin stood, but didn’t take his hand. Jimin let the wind dance around them, joining Jungkook in the odd, drunken stepping that perhaps resembled a dance. Petals stuck to their lips and hair, sweat dotting their necks as they fell over each other, giggling, fingers clutching silk, their breaths falling within the same space.

The wind was not cool, but full and warm, billowing like cotton against their bones.  Their fingertips grazed each other as tantalizing as a kiss, sending small gestures of lightning through their nerves. Maybe their feet left the wooden floor more than once, but they never noticed, their heads weak with mirth.

Jimin did not know how long they dance with the wind and with each other, but by the time he returned to bed, his feet ached and his body was warm, his cheeks whipped cool. His hair fell wildly around his head as he lowered himself down to sleep.

Though his body gave into sleep, his soul wandered. He knew somewhere in his heart, he was still out there in the night with Jungkook, fingers curling in his hanbok, the balls of his feet burning against the wooden floor as they laughed, drunk on the sound. And he knew Jungkook was there with him. Jungkook’s hand on his Mark, his torn sleeve, they were all moments of deception and they tasted so bitter on his tongue. The sweetness of sharing his magic with Jungkook was a truth so addictive he knew he could not hold it in anymore. 

Tomorrow, he whispered to no one, to himself, hoping to appease the quiet chaos. Tomorrow, I will tell him.

Chapter Text

Lady Hyesu of the Choi clan was pleasant. She smiled whenever they met gazes and it was a pretty smile, Jungkook had to admit. She spoke only when Jungkook conjured up a mildly interesting question, something he was running dangerously low on. For the past few minutes, they had sat among silence disturbed only by the soft twitter of birds in the trees around them. They were not in the lotus garden----Jimin’s garden, as he had come to call it in his mind----, but instead in a more private garden that only grew delicate white blossom trees. The sun made the gentle white of the blossoms appear garish and hard to look at. Her hanbok was a soft ivory with hints of burnt orange embroidery. She reminded him of the blossoms. He knew that was not an accident.

Jungkook was watching a single blossom flutter into the refuge of the pavillion when Lady Hyesu’s handmaiden stepped onto the platform. She had been standing a respectful distance away the entire time, her attention turned elsewhere to give a semblance of privacy, but Jungkook had been aptly aware of her presence. She bowed to him and Lady Hyesu rose to her feet. Jungkook rose as well, inclining his head back to her. He managed a smile and said, “It has been a pleasure to meet you, my lady.”

“The sentiment is returned,” she said and there was nothing in her expression that hinted otherwise, but Jungkook searched for it anyways.

As silently as she appeared, she left and Jungkook was left on his own.

Lady Hyesu was the second lady today. He was not told how many more there would be, but he could already feel his shoulders pressing down and down, threatening to take him to the ground. His eyes fought to stay open. He had not slept at all last night. Not before and not after Jimin. Before. . . thoughts of doubt so heavy he had sunken into his mattress plagued him. After. . . guilt choked him, thick and dark in his throat. He had struggled against the weights tied to his lids, but now that he was alone, he let them fall. He dreamt of water lilies and crescent eyes.

It occurred to Jimin rather late that he did not know where he might find Jungkook. He had always appeared before him like a dream at night or an overwhelming presence in the day. He knew where he lived, but not where he resided. Where he spent his days. What he spent his days doing. He knew nothing.

As always, he returned to Taehyung looking for answers, except he was nowhere to be found. He paused a passing servant and asked where he might find him. “Young Master Kim has gone out for the day. He left early in the morning. Madam Kim has also accompanied him. I am not aware of where they may have gone, but I was informed that they will be back before sunset.” Jimin thanked the servant and she bowed before hurrying away.

He didn’t understand. Where had Taehyung run off to? And with Aeja-ssi as well? Normally, Taehyung made a point of taking Jimin wherever he went because they both knew Jimin wouldn’t venture outside as often if he didn’t. Aeja-ssi was the same. Jimin rarely ever saw her outdoors, yet she had gone out somewhere with Taehyung? And without telling him? Maybe he had forgotten. There was nothing he could do after all so he was forced to let it go. He wasn’t about to venture into the maze of the main manor without any clue where he should be going.

He found himself in the lotus garden once more. He knew Jungkook would not be there because he had never once seen him here in the light of day, but he did find someone else. Lee Taemin grinned as soon as he spotted Jimin. “If it isn’t our little champion himself,” he said. “You disappeared so quickly yesterday, you missed the congratulatory ceremony.”

Jimin had almost completely forgotten the game yesterday. His first game. His first victory. “Oh, sorry,” he said, meekly.

“It’s of no consequence, though after seeing you in action, I’m curious how you are in combat.”

Jimin looked at him, slightly alarmed.

“What do you say to a friendly bout?”

He frowned. “Oh, I don’t know. I doubt I can hold my own against you. I could barely hold my own against my eomma.”

Taemin laughed. “Perhaps, but you are full of surprises.”

Jimin didn’t think he meant anything by it, but he still grew a little tense.

“Come on, humor me.”

“Well, where are we to have this bout?” he asked, gesturing around to the garden. Every spot of soil was covered by plants and everything else was stone pathway. Jimin didn’t think he liked the idea of being slammed down onto stone.

“Come, there’s a plot in a nearby courtyard. It’s where mostly everyone practices.”

Jimin hesitated, but reasoned that there was nothing wrong with a friendly bout. Besides, he liked Taemin. It wouldn’t hurt to humor him. Jungkook wasn’t here anyways and he had nothing else to do. So he nodded and followed after the other.

“You said you were from Gyeongsan, right?”

He nodded. 

“Which part?”

“Sagol,” he said, naming the first respectfully large city they had passed through on their way up to Yeongju. He quickly steered the conversation back towards Taemin. “And you?”

“Yangson,” he replied. “The utter opposite side of Sagol.” He grinned over at Jimin. “You should come visit. Even if you say you aren’t directly related to the Parks, their clan home is nearby.”

Jimin didn’t know if he was directly related. If he was, his eomma hadn’t known that. All she had mentioned of her own past was that her eomma had been from Gyeongsan and so had Jimin’s abeoji. Perhaps he had been a full-fledged Park. Jimin’s lips twitched in a smirk. Wouldn’t that be amusing , he thought wryly.

They arrived in a large yard that much to Jimin’s annoyance wasn’t completely empty, but thankfully, the men and women already here simply waved back to Taemin and stayed on the far side of the yard. Jimin recognized the yard as the same one from yesterday, where the opposing team had kept their flag. He still remembered Jungkook’s wild laugh as soon as Jimin had caught the flag. 

Taemin stopped several paces away from him and gestured to him. “Warm yourself up,” he said. “You’re not going to get out of this easy.”

Jimin found himself grinning. “Are all of you like this?”

“Like what?” he asked, twisting his arm across his shoulders.

“Competitive? Asking strangers for fights upon crossing?”

Taemin chuckled. “Yes.”

Jimin snorted.

He hadn’t fought anyone other than his eomma and he had never once bested her. She had been formidable and borderline cruel as a teacher. They hadn’t kept weapons with them so her determination had been understandable. If Taemin was anything like his eomma, Jimin was going to be flat on his back within a few minutes.

As it turned out, Taemin was a proficient fighter, easily stirring the blood within Jimin. He hadn’t managed to focus all his wits completely so he ended up on his back much too quick for his liking. He shoved up to his feet and waved a hand. “Again.”

Taemin raised a brow. “And you say we’re competitive.”

Jimin had no response so he simply gestured again and Taemin abided, amused.

He held out longer than before, his hits connecting more frequently and his blows landing just a bit better. He still got knocked down in the end. “Your clearly well-trained,” Taemin said, holding out a hand. “Your moves, they almost----”

“It seems we have another Lee pupil among our midsts.”

Every ounce of warmth that the sun, the adrenaline and the bruises had managed to conjure drained from his body. He watched as Taemin’s eyes lit up in recognition before he dropped his head in respect. Jimin had no choice but to turn.

Meeting Kim Hyungwon’s gaze was liking to suddenly staring down a blade’s length. Except the blade was tilted down, not lethal, but unsettling just the same. His eyes were nothing like Jungkook’s, yet there was something sharp within them that he had seen shards of in all his sons. Jimin bowed, mainly so he could free himself of that gaze. Blood rushed to his cheeks and he almost wished to stay down, but eventually he rose. He realized belatedly that the man wished for a reply.

“I . . . was taught by my abeoji,” he said. The lie was out before he could second-guess himself. Anything to distance himself from any association with his eomma. It wasn’t as easy to lie as he wished. It caught on his tongue like cotton, sucking the moisture from his mouth, falling from his lips like deadweight.

“Then he must have had some Lee training in him. Wouldn’t you agree, Taemin?”

Taemin nodded. “I was just about to comment that, my lord.” Taemin looked to Jimin. “Your abeoji had to have been trained at our residence.” The conviction in his tone riddled Jimin’s nerves with an unease.

Why hadn’t his eomma mentioned that the art of fighting she had taught him was specific to the Lees? And how come someone like her knew something clearly taught to a select few? Had she been a disciple of the Lees? No, it couldn’t be true. She had grown up in Yeongju and lived her entire life here. Then it was whoever had taught her. Her eomma if he remembered correctly. But her last name hadn’t been Lee, right? Had it been his eomma’s abeoji perhaps? He shook the confusing thoughts away. It didn’t matter.

“Maybe,” he said before the silence could stretch for too long, but he could already feel himself fumbling, his heart threatening to crawl upwards. “I wasn’t aware of that.”

“And where is your abeoji?”

Truth? Or a lie? “Dead.” The truth stumbled out.

“Your eomma?”

“Dead. . . as well.” Another truth.

“Tell me, was your eomma versed in combat as well?”

“No.” A lie that rolled easier than before. Maybe because it was shorter. But the hard part was keeping up with the lie after it had been told. Jimin worked to strip any telltale signs from his expression, but he didn’t know what they would be. 

Kim Hyungwon’s gaze shifted to Taemin briefly and Jimin resisted the urge to snap his gaze over to him, but suddenly Hyungwon was looking back at Jimin, a hand on his beard. He let out an amused chuckle. “You needn’t be so frightened. It isn’t as if you did anything wrong, am I right?” He smiled at Jimin and Taemin chuckled, though Jimin only managed a meager twitch of his lips in return. “I was told you were one of Taehyung’s friends and that you are staying with him for the time being. Where will you be venturing after this?”

“I don’t know just yet, my lord, but I do not intend to overstay my welcome.”

Another breath of a chuckle. “We wouldn’t want that now would we.” With one last dismissive glance, he turned away. Jimin watched him leave, one hand clasped behind his back, the other stroking his beard as he hummed a melody. Jungkook’s abeoji was not a frighteningly tall man, or alarmingly built. Yet there was something that lay within his gaze, something coiled and ready to strike that left Jimin feeling tense enough to shatter. It wasn’t until he was entirely out of sight that Jimin moved. He glanced at Taemin. 

“Are you alright?” Taemin asked, brow furrowed. “You look a little pale.”

Jimin nodded and it wasn’t an entire lie. Nothing had happened. He had seen and spoken to Kim Hyungwon and nothing had happened. 

“About what you said,” Taemin began. “You said your eomma had no combat experience.”

Jimin nodded.

“But you said to me just before that you could never beat her.”

Truth. The truth was easier because it was impossible to get stuck within your own words. Jimin had never lied before. He should have known lies would only led to his own undoing. “She . . . Magic. Her magic. Her magic was what was hard to beat.”

Taemin nodded, but Jimin knew his poor attempt at a lie hadn’t come off as smoothly as he had hoped. He could read it in Taemin’s eyes, but he didn’t say anything of it.

“Let us spar again sometime,” Jimin said, just for the sake of a farewell before inclining his head and walking off the yard. He didn’t run, but he almost couldn’t manage a walk. It seemed every time he left the Lotus House, something disastrous happened. In fact, every time he left Taehyung’s side, he ended up doing something stupud.

Stupid. What is the point of a tongue if it does not know how to be convincing?

It wasn’t his tongue’s fault though. His head was just as useless.

He had just stormed under an arcade when suddenly he crashed into someone. Hands flew out to catch his elbows and steady him before he could hit the floor for the third time that day. Namjoon’s dimpled smile greeted him. “Hello. You’re quite clumsy for someone so graceful,” he said, setting him straight.

“I’m sorry,” Jimin replied quickly, inclining his head.

“What are you doing in the inner manor?”

“I was sparing with Taemin-ssi.”

“Ah yes, everyone else is making social calls and cohorting while Taemin gets to come out to practice. Jungkook would be jealous.”

Jimin’s ears perked at the mention of Jungkook, but he quickly averted his attention. He should know by now that Namjoon’s gaze saw everything. Something shifted in his eyes almost as if he had made up his mind for something. “Would you mind entertaining me for tea?”

Jimin opened his mouth to decline. He had had enough of the inner manor, but Namjoon interrupted. 

“I apologize, but I suppose I am not asking.” He still offered Jimin a smile as he took his elbow. “It is a conversation we should have had a while ago, but hyung is rather meddlesome.” The only “hyung” he could be referring to was Seokjin yet he could hardly think of the man as anything other than kind and sweet.

“What do you wish to talk about?” His voice came out small.

Namjoon smiled, but it lacked his eyes. “It is better if we continue in private quarters.”

Namjoon’s quarters reminded Jimin of Taehyung’s except there wasn’t an offensive amount of clothing and shoes strewn everywhere. He looked down at his reflection that peered back to him from the shiny dark wood. They took a seat at a table already set for tea. He wondered how Namjoon had gotten the tea ready so quickly. Even when he wasn’t looking into his eyes, he seemed to be able to read his thoughts. “I had gone out to retrieve you from Lotus House. Seolhyun has gone out for some air and I knew that Sungmo and Taehyung-ah would be out today so there wouldn’t be any, uh, inconveniences.” He chuckled a little, folding his long legs beneath himself as he took a seat on the cushion. “Both Taehyung-ah and Sungmo had become quite protective of you. They might not have agreed with my doing this, but I have concluded that it has to be done before things go any further.”

“Namjoon-ssi, what are you talking about?” Jimin asked. Somewhere inside him he knew the answer, but his conscious was unaware of it. 

“I know you are Lee Jimin and that you are Jungkook’s soulmate.”

Straight to the point, a knife in his chest.

“Hyung knows as does Taehyung and Sungmo, but I suppose you know that of course.”
“Jungkook . . .”

“Does not.”

A shaky breath escaped his lips. “How long?”

“Seokjin had an inkling first. He was the oldest among us. He remembered you the best. Your essence made an impression on his mind, just like everyone does. It was why Sungmo accepted you so quickly. She remembered your essence as well. But hyung wasn’t sure where he remembered you at first, but he told me it was your scar that reminded him.”

Jimin’s fingers flew to the scar near his brow, the one he had barely given a thought to. So insignificant.

“Hyung can read people’s auras the way people may read a word, except he describes it more as a painting.” Namjoon shook his head. “I do not understand nor will I pretend to understand. Once he remembered, he told me at the inn. Together we decided that we would rather let fate work it out for you two. We would look out for you, but I’ve come to realize how childish and irresponsible that decision was, especially considering your circumstances.” He watched Jimin as if searching for something. Jimin told himself he didn’t need to hide anything from him anymore, but it was hard to rewrite the instinct to hide from scrutiny. “Abeoji was really angry when he found out that your eomma had escaped with you and that Eomma had helped her. I will be frank and say that he will not treat your return with open arms.”

“I spoke with him today.”

Namjoon’s eyes widened a bit, but he hurried to say. “He shouldn’t recognize you. The only people close to you were hyung, Taehyung, our eommas and I. Abeoji would not have cared for a servant or her child, despite how close our eommas were.” There was a small pause. “He would never have found out it was you if another servant hadn’t notified him upon seeing Jungkook’s Mark.” He smiled ruefully. “You would have never needed to resort to seeking refuge in a forest of beasts and Jungkook would have grown up thinking his soulmate was out there and you could have returned if you desired without problem.” He sighed. “But there is no point in lamenting at what could have been. We must deal with what is.”

“Why did he go as far as to say that I was dead? I understand he was angry, but. . .”

“Abeoji. . .  if I had to take a guess, it was so it would make it hard for you to return. You betrayed the Kim name once. He probably wasn’t willing for a second chance.”

“I was only a child,” Jimin whispered, unable to help the helpless color to his words. “I doubt I understood the difference between a Kim and myself. How can he hold it against me?” His eyes pricked and he averted his gaze. He did not know if the tears were from despair or frustration. “Does he not care about Jungkook?” Jimin was not so arrogant to assume that he was something like a miracle for Jungkook. He would not bring him sudden happiness or perfection, but he was his soulmate. He was something to Jungkook, but his abeoji had ruined it more than even Jimin’s eomma had and for what ? For pride ? Now he was sure it was anger that fueled the tears that refused to fall.

“I do not claim to understand him.”

“He is your abeoji.” It was almost like an accusation, thrown like a dagger, hoping to draw blood, but it was dull-edged.

“Just as you said, we should not be punished for the doings of our parents. I brought you here because I hoped to convince you to tell Jungkook.”

“He will hate me.” The response was automatic, his nerves frayed.

“He won’t.”

But Jimin did not believe him. He got to his feet, his knee knocking the table, sending the tea set rattling. Tea spilled over the edge of the table, but Jimin tore his eyes away.

“And so you would rather you continue on like this? Living with Taehyung and loving Jungkook?”

Jimin whirled back to face him. “I do not love him.”

“Whatever you are feeling, Jungkook is feeling the same. I will not have you string him along only for you to disappear because you are too afraid.”

“I am not afraid.” He strode out of the sitting room and he heard Namjoon get up after him.

“You run a lot for someone who is not afraid.”

“How will this end well for either of us?” he demanded, his voice rising. “You want me to what? Tell him I am his soulmate and then we will rejoice to live happily ever after?! I cannot believe I was about to tell him today. If I tell him, I will live and die by the Kim name, no more than a slave and with no guarantee that Jungkook will even accept me. I am nothing to him. I am worse than that. I am dead to him. Tell me, does he even desire a soulmate?”

“Jimin, I’m sure if we play this out correctly, he will be more than willing to----”

“I thought you did not wish to manipulate him?”

“This is manipulation for a greater end. If it is not played out carefully, this will only end badly and I can’t let that happen to my brother.” Namjoon stepped forward and opened his mouth to continue, but he was cut off as the sound of a door opening. Jimin spun around, mouth opening to----yell? Scream? He didn’t know. And he would never know because any will to make a sound had fled him. 

At the threshold stood none other than Jungkook and it was clear with one glance that he had heard everything.

Chapter Text

Jungkook hadn’t meant to listen.

He was tired. He had wanted to rest. He often lounged around his brother’s room so why not take this chance to talk to him about what Seolhyun had told him? At that point, his weariness had felt like a physical weight tugging at his bones. At first, he hadn’t even registered the voices. His fingers curled around the handle then paused as a voice finally drifted through the fog muddling his brain. It was muffled at first, but then the sharp sound of dropping ceramic brought the voices up higher.

“----rather you continue on like this? Living with Taehyung and loving Jungkook?”

Jungkook’s limbs froze. Who---

“I do not love him.” 

His fingertips were suddenly cold. Jimin’s voice was vicious and angry, but there was an undeniable waver to his words.

“Whatever you are feeling, Jungkook is feeling the same. I will not have you string him along only for you to disappear because you are too afraid.”

Jungkook was suddenly aware of his pounding heart. Why was his hyung saying this? And to Jimin of all people?

“I am not afraid.” His voice was like shattered glass, cutting, but broken. Footsteps padded towards the door and Jungkook took a step back.

“You run a lot for someone who is not afraid.” Harsh, angry but desperate. He had only ever heard his hyung like this in situations regarding Abeoji and Jungkook.

“How will this end well for either of us?” Jimin’s voice rose, swelling full and dark like a storm cloud. He was closer now. “You want me to what? Tell him I am his soulmate and then we will rejoice to live happily ever after?! I cannot believe I was about to tell him today. If I tell him, I will live and die by the Kim name, no more than a slave and with no guarantee that Jungkook will even accept me. I am nothing to him. I am worse than that. I am dead to him. Tell me, does he even desire a soulmate?”

Soulmate. Soulmate. Jimin was his soulmate.

Jungkook didn’t hear what was said next, his entire world consisting of four words.

Jimin is my soulmate .

The blessed emptiness of those words lasted only a moment before a swift anger burned the gentle scape to ashes. His fingers were curled around the handle once more and this time he pushed it open. He was surprised the door remained on its hinges. He could feel the knob crumbling beneath his palm, but it was a distant thought as he met Jimin’s gaze. In an instant, that storm crashed, replaced by something pale with shock.

He was sure they would have all remained standing there forever, staring at one another. Jungkook almost wished for that. The quiet before the storm. It had always been his favorite part. He never liked the destruction that followed. But as much as he didn’t like things, the natural way of things always came.

The one to break the calm was Jimin.

“Jung---”

He didn’t allow him to finish his name. “How long have you known?” His voice came out brittle and dark with a promise of tamed heat. He was surprised that words came out at all.

Jimin stared at him, his eyes almost imploring, pooling with tears. “Years now,” he whispered.

He felt as if Jimin might as well have punched him. His eyes drifted over to Namjoon. “And you?”

His brother was considerably more composed than either of them, but his gaze sat wary on Jungkook. “Since the inn. Hyung told me.”

“ How ?”

“Jimin lived here until you were born. His eomma was our eomma’s main servant. We played together. Hyung simply remembered.”

“Sp you---you never bothered to tell me?” His eyes flew back to Jimin. “And you planned to never tell me?”

“Jun----”

He couldn’t bare hearing his name come out of those lips. “Abeoji told me you were dead. You are supposed to be dead. You’re a liar.”

“Abeoji lied,” Namjoon cut in, but Jungkook shook his head.

“Why would he----”

“Pride? Hatred? Jimin’s eomma ran away with him. He wished to punish him by taking away his choice or at least making it harder.”

“Harder for him ? What about me ?”

“Jungkook, I---”

This time it was Namjoon who cut Jimin off. “Jimin, there’s nothing you can say.”

“No,” Jungkook snapped. “I want to hear what he has to say.”

Jimin opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Only his eyes opened to allow his tears to fall. Something sick and painful curled at the pit of his stomach. He tore his eyes away and stormed out of the room.

Jimin’s face felt hot, his tears no comfort to his skin. His throat felt like it had collapsed upon itself and in a moment, so would the rest of himself. “Who would it have hurt. . .” Jimin croaked, staring at the door Jungkook had stood at. “Who would it have hurt if I had never told him?” When no answer came, he whirled to face Namjoon. “Tell me!” he yelled, his voice cracking at the end. His body trembled, one sigh away from shattering. “Jungkook was fine without me. Telling him was my own selfish desire. I would have come to my senses before I saw him.” He was a child, crying to his elder, feeling just how unjust the world was.

“You could not continue to live here at the Lotus House and not be overcome with the desire to tell him. It was inevitable.” The worst part was the pity that lay within Namjoon’s gaze. He looked somewhat lost standing there, his hands rising for a moment then falling. It was almost as if Jungkook’s abrupt arrival had stripped Namjoon’s stature of the confidence he bore so easily.

“I would have left! I don’t need to be here! I don’t need Taehyung or Aeja-ssi or any of you! I have survived on my own before and I could have again.”

“You are right. You didn’t need the Lotus House, Taehyung, Sungmo, or any of us. You could have survived out there by yourself . . . but you and I both know that you stayed for a reason and now you cannot leave without breaking yourself apart. You left once before without knowing what you were losing and it cost you everything. I do not know if you would survive it this time.”

“You don’t know me.” He shook his head, but his strength was waning. “You don’t.” He turned back to the door and caught sight of what was left of the door handle. A darkness had spread from where Jungkook’s hand had rested, devouring the wood in a twisted manner. The air smelled of burnt wood. A shiver cascaded down his back and to his toes as he took in the scorch marks.

“I have to go see Jungkook before he hurts himself or someone else.” Jimin barely heard him and with a whisper of air, Namjoon was gone, leaving him all alone.

Jungkook was burning from the inside out. He could see the flames flickering before his eyes, bright and brilliant. It was beautiful. It was frightening.

You have to stop.

Jungkook .

“Jungkook!”

His hyung’s voice snapped him out of his reverie and threw him into the chaos of the world surrounding him. It was Seokjin who held him by his shoulders now, shaking him violently. But the dream persisted behind his hyung, raging with all its might.

Only it was reality.

Panic rose like bile and he felt the air racing out of his lungs and refusing to return. “Jungkook, listen to my voice,” a voice pleaded. Fingers crushed his bones. Everything was brittle. The air, his bones, his hyung’s voice. “You’re alright. Calm down. I have you.” And suddenly he was in his hyung’s arms. The heat from the fire was suffocating him yet his hyung’s scent----fresh sea breeze---brought a calm to his skin and he closed his eyes. “Sleep,” Seokjin whispered and so he did.

“What the hell did you do?” Seokjin hissed.

Namjoon refused to buckle beneath his hyung’s furious glare. “I’m sorry he had to find out this way. I never intended for him to hear Jimin and I----”

“Why were you talking to Jimin in the first place? You know just how flighty Jimin is. You could have scared him off!”

“It was going to happen sooner or later, hyung. I believed showing Jimin that we knew would give him the boost that he needed to do what needed to be done.”

“Jungkook burned the damn garden down .” His hyung whirled away from him, snapping his hanbok out of the way, irritation written into every inch of his body. “You are lucky the fire went out when he passed out or we would have a much bigger problem on our hands. I got Jungkook out of there in time before anyone saw, but you know Abeoji will figure out what happened without anyone’s help.”

“Hyung, you know no matter how Jungkook found out, this would have happened. We may talk about anything with him, but soulmates have always been a sure way of upsetting him. It was a miracle he accepted Yoongi-hyung and Hoseok, but you see the way he is around Seolhyun?”

“But he was getting better and he was warming to Jimin quickly. If you had just waited a little bit longer----”

“Is he alright?”

They both snapped their gazes to Jimin. He stood at the doorway to Namjoon’s inner chamber. He looked small, smaller than ever, his eyes rimmed with red, his gaze subdued. There was almost nothing to see in his once bright eyes. Namjoon felt himself soften.

“Yes. He’s asleep in hyung’s room. We set Hoseok and Yoongi-hyung to sit in there so when he wakes up they will be there.”

“What. . . happened?”

Namjoon glanced at his hyung who sighed before gesturing for Jimin to come to the table before heading over and taking a seat himself. The tea had long since gone cold, but Seokjin poured himself a cup anyways.

“Jungkook has never had a good control over his magic. It is powerful, impressively so, but it has always been rampant. Uncontrollable. Abeoji claims it is because Jungkook is too emotional which is why Jungkook keeps everything restrained so deeply inside him. It was worse when he was younger. Abeoji was always furious with him and the angerier Abeoji got, the worse Jungkook’s magic would lash out.” His fingers twisted at the fabric of his sleeve before he sighed and pushed back the cuff all the way up to his shoulder. Jimin’s eyes widened as he took in Seokjin’s upper arm. It had been a while since Namjoon had seen his hyung’s scars. They were much lighter than they had been, less noticeable, but the distortion of skin was undeniable. 

“Jungkook did this?” Jimin asked, his eyes going up as Seokjin nodded.

“After that, we tried sealing his magic. It is a rather unsavory technique, but at that point, Jungkook was too resentful of his magic. If he knew a way to cut it out of him, he would have. It was made worse because Abeoji agreed. He’d rather have a magic-less child than one he couldn’t control,” he added bitterly.

“It worked for a time, but seals like those don’t last for a long time. By the time we needed to reapply it, Jungkook had already rejected his magic so much that it barely resurfaced. We thought we had damaged it somehow. We reapplied the seal anyways, but he hadn’t shown signs of a resurragence so we grew lenient enough with it that we didn’t bother resealing it. I guess the news was a shock enough to reawaken it.”

Namjoon could already see Jimin receding back into himself. All anger from before had long since dried up and it was disconcertingly similar to how Jungkook used to become. Detached and vacant. Namjoon found himself reaching out, trying to reel him back, just like he would with Jungkook. He ducked his head until he was at level with Jimin’s gaze.

“How about you return to your quarters for tonight? We will notify you when he wakes up.” It went without saying that there was no guarantee that Jungkook would even want to see him, but Jimin simply nodded. He got to his feet. “And Jimin?”

He looked over.

“Don’t run . . . please.” He couldn’t convey just how sorry he was. Jimin was just a kid, scared and vulnerable. As much as he wished to protect his own brother, Jimin was just as harmed by all this as Jungkook. Neither of them deserved this.

Jimin simply nodded then he was gone.

Taehyung didn’t return home until right before sunset, just as he had promised via the servant girl. He startled upon finding Jimin seated at his table. “I thought you were a ghost,” he muttered, clutching his heart. There was a pause then Taehyung’s cool hands pressed against the back of his neck. Jimin brought his eyes up and found Taehyung’s. 

“You’ve been crying,” he gasped.

“So have you,” Taehyung replied with a dry chuckle as he crossed his legs to sit in front of him. 

“What happened?” he asked.

“I should ask you that.”

“I asked first.” He frowned at his friend. “Taehyung-ah, what happened? Tell me, please.”

Taehyung smiled softly and removed his hand from Jimin’s neck. “I went to visit someone.”

“Why did they make you cry?”

“Because I haven’t seen them in a long time.” He read the unspoken question in Jimin’s gaze and dropped his own to his fingers. “They were a friend of mine. A dear one.” He shook his head again, raising his gaze, wiping a stray tear away with his palm. His eyes glimmered with a sort of twisted pain that he tried awfully to orient towards eagerness. “Jimin-ah, tell me, what happened? Did someone bother you?” His eagerness meant he didn’t wish to speak it anymore.

“No, no one bothered me, Tae.” He shook his head and sniffed. “Everything is ruined.”

“What do you mean, Jiminie?”

“Jungkook knows.” He threw his hands up, but they fell down with his shoulders. “I didn’t tell him. He. . . overheard. He’s angry, Tae, and he. . . almost hurt himself w-with his magic. He . . . He hates me.”

Taehyung shook his head and immediately took Jimin in his arms. “No, he doesn’t.”

“He does ,” he mumbled into his chest, his words coming out warped. “You didn’t see his eyes, Tae. He hates me. He hates me. He hates me. . .” He kept mumbling it over and over again until his jaw ached and his eyes burned not from tears, but from being run dry. He blinked and it hurt. He pulled back out of Taehyung’s embrace to find his friend in a similar state. Jimin choked on a laugh that tasted dry and brittle. “Don’t cry, Taehyung-ah,” he said, reaching out to wipe his friend’s tears with both his sleeves.

“Soulmates aren’t supposed to hurt this much,” Taehyung whispered.

Jimin pushed his hair back from his face before getting to his feet, pulling Taehyung up with him. He led him towards the bedroom and ushered him onto it. Without being asked, Jimin slipped in beside him and they fell asleep with their hands clasped.

Jungkook awoke to the sun waving lazy shadows across his eyelids. Blissful warmth caressed his face and he felt if he moved, it might disappear. The birds chattered outside, restless and hyper, keeping him from his dreams. He opened his eyes slowly and watched the shadows dance across the ceiling. The door leading out to his private garden was wide open, allowing the reflection of the pond outside to dance across the ceiling. A fish darted through the pond, disturbing the calm waters.

“Yah!” a loud voice exclaimed, followed by giggling then a harsh sshhh . Footsteps thumped over the floorboards outside before stopping outside Jungkook’s door, a shadow blocking out the pond almost entirely. There was silence for a beat then Hoseok ventured into the room. “Jungkook-ah, are you awake?” he asked.

“His eyes are literally open,” Yoongi replied dryly.

“I just----”

Hoseok cut off as Jungkook pushed himself up. He didn’t look over as he drew one knee up to prop up his elbow, running a hand through his hair. He yanked his fingers harshly every time he encountered a knot.

“Jungkook-ah,” Yoongi called. “We have breakfast. Come out and eat it.” He must have grabbed Hoseok because with a sharp exclaim, their shadows disappeared.

Jungkook stepped outside a few minutes later to find his friends seated on the steps leading down to the garden. They both looked up as soon as he stepped out. Yoongi gently nudged the plate towards his feet with a knuckle. Jungkook ignored it and took a seat on the top step, staring out at the garden. It was small, divided into two parts. One side, he had his small koi pond surrounded by smooth pebbles and a few small trees that reached only to his shoulders. Passed the covered center walkway that connected the other sections of his quarters, was Jungkook’s practice plot where he spent early mornings with his sword or a bamboo rod. He was allowed to sit in silence for a few minutes before Yoongi spoke again.

“If you don’t wish to eat, at least go take a bath.”

“Why are you here?” he asked. “I’m not going to burn anything.” His words should have been acidic, but there wasn’t anything there. His voice came to him from far away.

“That’s not why we’re here,” Hoseok said.

Jungkook cut his gaze to him. “It isn’t?” 

Hoseok didn’t reply and Jungkook let out a soft snort, looking back to the pond. The world appeared to glow before him, warm and alive. His fingers twitched, something unfamiliar humming beneath his fingertips. He curled his hands into fists to stop them from trembling.

“Your hyungs just wanted to make sure you were alright,” Yoongi said.

“Yes because they couldn’t bare to face me now,” he replied. A hint of bite had returned. He glanced down at his hands before gripping them tightly around his knees, digging his nails further into his palms. “You can go. I will be fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. . . I just want to practice.”

“Would you like to spar?” Hoseok offered.

“No, thank you. I’m fine.”

There was a beat of silence then one of them got to their feet. “We’ll be back to bring you lunch.” They patted his shoulder as they passed him by then they were gone.

Jimin woke up alone. He rose quickly to find Taehyung. He found him in the main courtyard of the Lotus House, arms wrapped around his knees. Jimin hovered for a second before coming forward and taking a seat beside his friend. It was close to noon, but no one had come to wake either of them. The house felt oddly silent.

“I know what you’re afraid of with Jungkook . . . I had to go through the same thing.” Jimin looked over at his friend.

“You mean . . . with your soulmate?”

Taehyung’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly then he nodded once then twice. “My soulmate and I . . . we met when we were young. We didn’t even realize we were soulmates until we were seventeen and it was entirely by accident. I remember I ran all the way home to tell my mother. I was crying and I couldn’t stop shaking. I felt like I had been granted my life’s one miracle. I declared that we would get married as soon as we were of age, but they said we should wait until I had matured enough.”

A sound almost like a laugh slipped from Taehyung’s mouth, but it was choked off. “So we waited, but like an idiot, I told everyone . . . The thing with my family, Jimin, is that we think that we are so fucking invincible, but we’re not. We just learn to hide our weaknesses early on so no one can prey on them. I didn’t realize that as I proclaimed my love for them to the world that I was showing it my biggest weakness. I thought because I wasn’t of the main line, I was alright, but I was so wrong. . . just so . . . wrong.”

Jimin wrapped an arm around Taehyung as he curled into himself, his hands coming up to his face. Jimin placed a hand on Taehyung’s arm as his friend tried to vainly wipe his tears with the side of his hand then his palms when that wasn’t enough. He braced his teeth as if he could keep it all back if he didn’t make a sound.

“Uncle angered another clan and that was all it took for them to be taken away. Uncle and Namjoon-hyung understood what it means to be able to protect their partners, but I didn’t.”

He didn’t know what to say so he simply reached out to Taehyung’s face and wiped at his cheeks. Taehyung didn’t seem to acknowledge his actions, but eventually, he looked over to Jimin.

“This was the first time I spoke of them with anyone else.” He was regarding Jimin closely. His nose was red and his cheeks were blotchy. He sniffed, but didn’t take his eyes off Jimin.

“So they were who you visited yesterday?”

Taehyung nodded. “Every year, Eomma and I visit their grave and we have a picnic, the same kind they liked. We talk as if they’re there with us. Sometimes. . . I feel like they are.”

There was a stretch of silence that left Jimin feeling useless. “Do you want water?” he asked, but before he could get a reply, Jimin straightened and said, “I’ll go get water.”

Taehyung grabbed his hand, anchoring him in place. “Stay,” was all he said. His eyes, usually piercing or light, were solemn and red. Jimin wanted to reach out to wipe it all away, to bring back his smile, but this wasn’t something he could rub away. It was something woven closely into what made Taehyung who he was. Sorrow and grief were meant to be felt, just like Jimin with his eomma. All he could do was be here and it seemed that for now, it was enough. 

Taehyung wiped at a stray tear. “Jungkook on the other hand . . . He is smart. He won’t make the same mistakes that I did. He won’t let anyone hurt you, not even Samchon.” His voice came out as a rasp, quiet in the empty courtyard. 

Jimin shifted his gaze away, unsure of what to think.

“Right now, Jungkook must make his choice, just as we all do. Stay or run. I believe in you that you would have told Jungkook yourself. It’s just unfortunate that it had to happen this way.”

A lot of things were unfortunate. His eomma’s death. Taehyung’s soulmate’s death. Jungkook’s anger. But he found that he did not regret that Jungkook knew, even if the way he found out was regrettable. Even if there was a possibility of happiness at the end of this, was it not Jimin’s right to try to seize it. Even if that happiness was without Jungkook.

Abeoji did find out about the garden, not that anyone was hoping to hide it from him. It would be a useless endeavor after all. He summoned Jungkook to his greeting room, but his hyungs were already there, tense and poised to defend, but for the first time, Jungkook was not relieved to see them. “I’ll be alright,” Jungkook said without looking at them, staring at a spot over his abeoji’s shoulder. “You can leave.”

Seokjin made a move to speak, but Abeoji raised a hand. “Finally, you decide to speak for yourself,” he said, then snapped a hand. “Leave.”

There was a moment of silence then his hyungs disappeared. Silence stretched after their departure, settling over him heavier than the air.

“Well?” Abeoji began. “Where is your tongue now?”

“I take full responsibility for my actions. I will take any punishment dealt out by you. I have no excuse for my actions. It was a moment of weakness that I will not allow again.” He bowed until his nose touched the ground, palms braced against the floor. “I do not ask for you forgiveness.” He paused, drawing a breath in that seemed to catch itself in his throat, threatening to choke him. His hands curled into fists and the pain brought him enough bravery to speak again. ”With a humble heart, I implore you to grant me one favor.” He rushed on, knowing that he was losing courage as quick as air.

It was so easy to breath around him , his mind whispered. Him. Jimin. His stomach roiled at the thought. “Allow me to keep my magic. Please. ” Jungkook closed his eyes, his breath fogging the spotless wood beneath him. He heard his abeoji get up from his seat, but silence only followed. He held his breath then----

A cry escaped his lips before he clenched his jaws together to muffle anything else that might try to escape. Tears sprung to his eyes and he could not lift his head even if he desired. His abeoji’s magic pushed down on him like a blanket of lead, weighing down on each individual muscle and bone until he was sure he heard them pop. A ringing plagued his ears and he felt his tears mingle with his sweat, all of it pooling on the floor beneath his brow. Blood sprung free in his mouth, forcing it open, allowing a sob to fall down.

“Abeoji,” he said, but it came out broken.

“You lose control and damage my property and you dare to bow your head before me and ask for a favor ? At least have the humility to attempt to ask for forgiveness.”

“I’m sorry, Abeoji. I’m----” His jaw popped and he choked on the bile that rose in his throat. Nausea rose over his skull and crashed against his consciousness.

“I don’t want to hear it!” he snapped and Jungkook’s shoulders hit the floor.

Jungkook didn’t hear the doors opening. He barely heard anything over the ringing in his ears and the thunder of his abeoji’s voice. But suddenly his hyung’s voice was cutting through the darkness. “Abeoji, stop!”

“Jungkook,” Seokjin exclaimed as soon as Jungkook gasped, the magic releasing him. His brother clutched his shoulder as he vomited on the floor and parts of his hanbok, blood dripping from his nose to mingle with his sweat and tears. “Abeoji, this is too much!” Seokjin exclaimed and Jungkook grabbed his hand. Seokjin immediately focused his attention back to him. “No, Jungkook, don’t---”

But Jungkook didn’t listen.

He pushed against the floor, using his hyung as support to bring himself to his knees then his feet. He swayed, but he refused to stagger. His hyung’s hands secured themselves on his waist and his shoulder. Jungkook’s gaze swam then landed on his abeoji. He felt his own magic hum beneath his skin, fighting off the nausea, allowing him to see clearly. Abeoji looked paled, his eyes wide.

For the first time, Jungkook saw the toll it took on the man to inflict damage on him. He had always passed out before, but now it was his magic that allowed him to see.

“Abeoji,” he said, his voice barely a croak. “I have never asked for anything. I know you sealed my magic to keep me safe, to keep everyone safe, but it has been so long since I have felt it inside me.” Tears muddled his gaze, but he drew in a shaky breath, removing one hand from his hyung’s arm. A sort of lightness brought his limbs up. “It is a part of me and I cannot deny it any longer. Do what you must, but please, please , Abeoji, do not take it away from me again. It is all I have left.”

Seokjin’s drew in a breath, but remained silent, his head bowing. He let his heart feel a twinge of guilt at hurting his hyungs, but they had done it first. Forgiveness was an inevitability between them, but not one he was ready to accept yet. Right now, he had something in his grasp, something different and new, something he hadn’t dared to think of before. Something he hadn’t been given by his hyungs or anybody. Something solely his own. Something that hinted towards hope and he was willing to die before he gave it up.

Chapter Text

“He what?”

Seokjin sighed, shaking his head. “It was his choice. What were we to do about it?”

“Nobody is allowed inside?” Taehyung asked, his brow furrowed. “And he is entirely alone?”

“Hoseok volunteered right away to go with him, saying he would need a servant, but Jungkook turned down his help. I doubt Abeoji would allow it even if he hadn’t.”

“This is ridiculous!” Taehyung snapped, slamming a hand onto the table, getting to his feet. “What kind of abeoji locks his own son away?!”

“I understand, but what can we do if Jungkook agreed to it. He desired his magic and this was the only way he was allowed to keep it.”

“How does he expect him to learn if he is all by himself? He has suppressed it for years . He knows nothing! He can kill himself and no one will know it!”

Seokjin said nothing, but his gaze drifted to Jimin who hadn’t said anything and simply stared at his hands. Taehyung followed his gaze then snapped it back to Seokjin.

“It is not his fault,” Taehyung snapped.

“I know.” Seokjin said.

“It is,” Jimin said at the same time.

“You awakened something inside him that he was too afraid to face, Jimin,” Seokjin said, softly. “He may have caused harm, but he learned something from all that pain. He realized that it was something worth holding onto.”

“Only because he feels he has nothing left to rely on,” Jimin replied, not noticing Seokjin’s wince. “He feels he has nothing so he desires to fall back onto something that gives him strength, but it will only eat away at him.” He looked up to Seokjin. “Seokjin-ssi, you have to find a way to make sure he remains safe. From what little I have seen, his magic is not kind. I can only imagine what it will do to him if he will let it.”

Seokjin reached out a hand and clasped Jimin’s hand. He glanced up at Taehyung. “Jungkook will not let it. He has already made his decision and he will stick to it. He will persevere. He always does.”

Changdeok was a residence originally built for Jungkook’s great-great sungmo. She had been born with an ailment and in an attempt to keep her out of society’s eyes, the Kim family had created this little slice of property. It was still located on the main Kim property, but was so far removed that it might as well be a world all of its own. Upon passing beneath the stone archway, Jungkook was greeted with red wooden bridge that led him over a pond. He stopped upon noting the water lilies dotting the surface. Unbidden, his mind brought images of the burned lilies from the lotus garden. He tore his gaze away, towards the main house. It was quaint, sitting peacefully among the camphor trees, their sprawling branches hanging over the black-tiled roof. It was made of stone and wood, painted a faded black and red. Among the trees there were camelia trees, dotted generously with pale pink flowers. Everything sat quietly within the golden sunlight and he wondered about his ancestors. They may have put her here, but it was clear they desired for her to still enjoy the beauty of the world. A cage was a cage, so why not make it beautiful?

Upon closer investigation, he found that Changdeok had not entirely passed through time unscathed. He had to chase a raccoon out of kitchen which was located in the back right of the house, clearly where the servants’ quarters were located. Despite the kitchen, the rest of the house was generally animal free, though it was horribly dusty. He couldn’t recall the last time he had ever cleaned anything, much less an entire house. He sighed and went in search of a well.

He worked well into the day despite the ache. Working allowed him to ignore the separate thrumming of his magic as it hummed inside him. The chilling fear threatened to overtake him more than once, but each time, he closed his eyes and gingerly reached for the warm assurance of his magic as if to assure himself that it would do no harm. It was not like his hyungs’, cool and coiled. Nor like Hoseok’s which felt like sun kisses. Or even like Jimin’s, tender and light. It was something uniquely his own, something familiar, almost like a homecoming. It was a friend he had never known to miss.

It was not a gentle homecoming, however, if the events in the garden were any indication. Cleaning could distract him for only so long. His thoughts naturally wandered to Jimin. It wasn’t the pleasant daydreams that used to lull around his head, but memories of him in Namjoon’s room. There had been fear clearly painted in those eyes. Fear of what? Of me? Thoughts of his hyung’s arm flashed through his mind and he recoiled quickly. His gaze dropped down and he let out a startled cry. His rag had begun to smolder. He quickly dropped it, but the blue flames licked his fingers, dragging up towards his palm. He jumped to his feet as the flames dripped from his fingers like water. He flung himself to the corner of the room where the bucket of dirty water sat and thrust his hands into the murky water. The water hissed and he watched with wide eyes as the fire fought the water. It made an attempt to climb up his wrists. He pushed down harder, a startled cry escaping his lips. 

Listen to me, he hissed. He didn’t know how long he crouched there waiting for the flames to dim before they went out altogether. He stared down at the water for a long time, afraid to bring his hands out. Slowly, but surely he let his shoulders drop. His muscles ached from being held so tensely for so long. 

This was wrong. He hadn’t begged Abeoji to let him keep his magic just so he could crush it every time it appeared. Slowly, he pulled his hands from the water and raised them. He willed his magic to appear again, but the only thing on his palms was the grimy grey water. A sickness coiled in the pit of his gut. Had he pushed it away for the last time? “Please come back,” he whispered, but nothing appeared.

Jungkook was woken with a start. He immediately reached for his sword, pushing himself up into a crouch. His eyes scanned the darkness of his sparse room and upon locating nothing, he rose to his feet.

Footsteps.

Jungkook drew his sword and a moment later, the door sprung open. Taehyung didn’t look all that impressed to be greeted by a blade. “Hello, Jungkook,” he muttered, pulling down the black mask covering the lower half of his face. “I brought company.” He stepped aside and his hyungs stepped in. He shot down the instinct to feel elated at their arrival, but lowered his sword just the same.

“Somebody must have seen you,” Jungkook said as greeting.

“Don’t underestimate me,” Taehyung said. “I have too much practice cloaking myself to be caught that easily.”

“Jungkook-ah,” Namjoon said, stepping forward, but he stopped himself from moving any further. “Why are you doing this?”

“I have my reasons.”

“If you just let us talk to Abeoji again, maybe he will let you come out again and we can give you proper training.”

“I was given proper training, remember?” His voice tasted metallic on his tongue. “It didn’t help then.”

“It might have. Everyone learns differently. How can we expect you to learn the same way as everyone else?” Jungkook just shook his head. Where were these words years ago, when he had needed to hear them the most? “You made one mistake when you were a kid. We shouldn’t have punished you like that.”

“That mistake hurt someone. I should have been punished.”

Namjoon’s gaze twisted. “I think in our attempt to protect you, we may have ruined you more.”

The words were a quick blow, leaving him weaker and less stable. He felt the warmth surge inside him, his insides warring between elation at its reappearance and fear.

Seokjin’s eyes widened. “Jungkook, calm down,” he said.

His eyes darted down and widened at the magic leaking from his hands. He looked around frantically for something to assuage it, the panic only making it worse. They parted quickly as Jungkook raced from the room, but followed after him. He felt a flicker of relief that he hadn’t emptied the basin in the kitchen and thrust his hands inside, his nails scraping the wood at the bottom. It was taking longer this time. His heart beat wildly as he tried to quell it. Stop, please stop.

“Jungk----”

“Leave!” he snapped without looking over his shoulder, his entire body shuddering. “Don’t come near me.” A volatile mixture of emotions drove his words. Anger, panic, but mostly fear. Fear that he would hurt them again. The images of his hyung’s bloodied shoulder, Namjoon’s frightened, tear-stricken face flashed through his mind and he screwed his eyes shut tighter. “ Leave ,” he gritted out, the sound coming out like a growl. “ Please. ”

“Jungkook, you can’t----” Seokjin was cut off by something, but Jungkook didn’t look back to see what it was. His mind was pacing too fast for him to catch up to what went through it. All he could see was the bright glimmer of the flames that survived the submergence into water. “Why won’t you listen to me?” he exclaimed quietly. I don’t want to hurt anyone, but you keep burning brighter.

You want to devour me.

“Jungkook.”

His eyes widened, his head snapping up, but he didn’t dare look over his shoulder. He didn’t have to as it turned out. Jimin appeared by his elbow, a rush of cool wind against his flaming skin. His small hand reached out and placed itself on his arm. He felt sticky and hot, almost as a fever had claimed him, but his mind was clear. Jimin’s cool hand worked like a balm against his skin. He couldn’t see his face, but his voice was gentle.

“You can’t keep doing this,” he said, quietly. “Your magic is a part of you. You’re killing it.”

Tears sprung in his eyes, unbidden. “I don’t want to hurt it, but it wants to hurt me and everyone else.” His voice sounded small, a child’s voice.

“No, it doesn’t. You won’t let it.” He felt Jimin’s hand slid down his forearm, dipping towards the water. He didn’t realize what he meant to do until his hand closed around Jungkook’s wrist.

“No,” he exclaimed, but Jimin’s grip was like steel suddenly. He shook his head, but his limbs were too weak to fight Jimin who pulled his hand from the water. The magic flared then calmed as he watched, mesmerized by the buttery color it had put on. He was too entranced by the flames to realize Jimin’s grip was sliding upwards. He didn’t realize until he felt his cold hand close around his own. For a moment, Jungkook thought it had worked, that Jimin, through their bond, had quelled his magic. He felt his soul begin to fall towards a tentative tranquility, but a second later, their clasped hands erupted in fire and he cried out. He tried to yank his hand back, but Jimin wouldn’t let go.

“Stop!” he cried. “You’re hurting yourself. Please, stop!”

“No, look,” Jimin said, grabbing the back of his neck to force him to look.

He forced himself to focus, on Jimin’s hand especially. At first he thought Jimin was lying, that it was hurting him, but then he looked closer and he saw the truth. The fire that erupted from the center of their palms had curled around Jimin’s smaller hand. It whispered around his knuckles, appearing to almost go through his skin, turning a brilliant blue where it touched him. The panic and fear was still pounding through Jungkook’s veins, but disbelief had joined them. The longer he stared, the quieter his heart became.

“How?” he whispered to himself.

“You’re . . . my soulmate,” Jimin replied, just as quiet and delicate. Jungkook met his gaze, but Jimin dropped it almost immediately. “I wasn’t sure, but I had a feeling. . . You wouldn’t hurt me.”

Jungkook raised his other hand to their joined hands, but before he could touch them, Jimin withdrew his hand. His magic extinguished itself as if being cut off from Jimin had made it unwilling to appear anymore. But no, he could still feel it whispering beneath his skin, somehow . . . quiet and content. It was like the morning he had woken after burning the lotus garden. That short moment of contentment when the sun had kissed his face, but maybe that had been his magic, for once at peace with itself and him. It felt surreal and he knew that like that moment, it would not last forever, but he savored it just the same.

When he looked up, Jimin was gone. He snapped his gaze to the doorway and found his hyungs looking at him. The only evidence that Jimin had ever been here was that Taehyung had gone as well. His hyungs moved out of his way before he even reached them. He burst out onto the house’s main porch and almost ran straight into Taehyung. Jimin looked back at him with wide eyes.

“You,” he began, but nothing came out. He just stared. The moonlight framed Jimin in a blue-silver glow, darkening his eyes until there were only pricks of light. He’s beautiful . He had thought this several times before, but this time it felt as if he were truly thinking it for the right reasons, reasons that left an ache deep in his chest.

“We don’t have time,” Taehyung interrupted, giving Jungkook a cool look. “It’s hard to keep illusions intact from this far.”

He should have known. No one would take a peek into his hyungs rooms normally, but who knew what the servants had been ordered to do now? Taehyung would have created illusions of his hyungs just in case. He was impressed that he could keep them together from this far away.

Jungkook searched for the words he wanted to say, but beneath Taehyung and Jimin’s matching gazes, he couldn’t find anything. Taehyung clicked his tongue, taking Jimin’s hand. “I’ll bring him back tomorrow,” Taehyung said then pulled Jimin down the steps before Jungkook could argue against it. 

His hyungs came out after. Namjoon just nodded at him, but Seokjin hugged Jungkook before making Namjoon join in. “I’m sorry,” Seokjin whispered into Jungkook’s hair, but Jungkook didn’t respond, simply allowing himself the familiar touch of his hyungs, their soft scents and whispered farewells. He did not allow himself to feel the pain of their departure, however. He didn’t watch them head down the steps and join Taehyung and Jimin. Instead, he turned and walked back inside because he knew if he watched them go, he wouldn’t be able to right the urge to race after them.

Jimin hadn’t meant to actually enter the house. Taehyung had brought him along, but hadn’t actually tried to convince him to see Jungkook. Jimin had made up his mind to sit outside on the porch, in the shadow of the house, content to just feel Jungkook nearby. But then he had felt a sudden spike of anxiety and panic that shot through him like a spike. He was moving before he could register where he was going. Next thing he knew, he was holding Jungkook’s hand, overtaken by the beauty of Juungkook’s magic. He had lied. It hurt to touch Jungkook, but it was such a relief to feel it, he lied. Before he knew it, he released Jungkook’s hand and dashed from the room. In the moonlight, he stared down at his hand. The pain still stung his hand, but there was no physical evidence. Jungkook’s magic hadn’t actually hurt him. It had only wished to share the pain it was in, that Jungkook was in. He closed his hand into a fist and held it to his chest just as Taehyung appeared beside him, hand on his shoulder.

Jungkook appeared once more, his eyes demanding, with just one word. You.

Me.

Jimin barely registered Taehyung’s words before his friend whisked him off the porch and onto the ground. There they waited until Namjoon and Seokjin joined them. Taehyung created a shroud over them with a flick of the wrist as soon as they slipped onto the bridge. It fell over them like a mist, cold and weightless. It was unnerving walking passed the guards stationed outside of Changdeok as they stared through them. Taehyung’s fingers never stopped moving, working to craft light where their shadows should be while erasing the sound of their footsteps. All this while maintaining the illusion of the Kim brothers sleeping in bed. Sweat dotted his brow, his jaw clenched, but he didn’t say a word. They encountered many more guards, especially the closer they got to the inner manor and the Kims’ rooms. It was obvious that Hyungwon hadn’t expected Taehyung to help the pair escape; otherwise, there would be more security, he was sure. They dropped off Namjoon and Seokjin before turning back towards the Lotus House. 

They didn’t talk until they were inside so Taehyung wouldn’t have to go through the trouble of weaving silence over their words. Jimin squeezed Taehyung’s hand. “Are you alright?” he asked. Taehyung had been quiet tonight and had insisted their visit be brisk. Jimin had a feeling it wasn’t entirely because of the trouble Taehyung had to go through to get them there. “Is something worrying you?”

Taehyung shook his head. “My thoughts are just filled with too many ‘what ifs’,” he replied, quietly, gaze intent on the floor. “Sometimes it’s hard to accept the world as it is and easier to fashion a better one in your head.” He glanced at Jimin. “Like one where Jungkook hadn’t gotten angry.”

“Tae. . . you know you can’t blame him.”

“I know I can’t.” He looked ahead once more. “Which is why I annoy myself sometimes.”

“Blame me if you want to blame anyone.”

He shook his head. “I don’t want to blame anyone.”

“Why did you tell Jungkook you would bring me back tomorrow?” he asked, raising a brow.

Taehyung smirked over at him. “Because you’re both dumb and I knew that was what both of you wanted.”

Jimin shoved his shoulder. “You should stop assuming what I want.” But there was no bite to his words.

They came to an abrupt stop as Aeja-ssi appeared before them, holding a lantern up so they could see her unamused expression. “I knew you liked courting trouble, but I didn’t think you would bring Jimin into it.”

“Eomma----”

She held a hand up. “Save your sweet words, Taehyung. I am only here to warn you. Be careful. There is a vast difference between Jungkook and his hyungs knowing and anyone else. Trust no one.”

“I know, Eomma. I could hardly have grown up with your paranoia without having some of it rub off on me.”

Aeja-ssi’s lips pursed. “Good night, boys.” With that, she headed down the hall and into her quarters.

Jimin knew her words would plague him tonight so he didn’t even try to fight them.

Chapter Text

Jimin found himself standing beneath the arcade that led to the lotus garden. It was his first time seeing the damage and it left him feeling slightly light-headed. In his mind, he pictured Jungkook as he walked into the garden and headed straight for the gazebo they always met beneath. He stood there and watched it all burn. The fire first consumed the gazebo then moved to the surrounding fauna. It escaped onto the bridge, but hadn’t made it onto the other side, falling instead onto the water lilies, scorching those close enough to feel the wraith. He imagined Seokjin racing across a burning bridge to save his brother from himself, despite the scars Jungkook had given him. No, it was because of the scars. He wouldn’t let that happen to another or Jungkook himself.

Rain fell in a sharp staccato on the roof, but the smell of burnt wood persisted through the cool air. The gardeners who had been picking through the carnage before had retreated back inside to wait out the rain. A pair of ravens fluttered down onto the black stakes of what was left of the gazebo, unbothered.

Jimin shivered and hugged himself. This morning at breakfast, Taehyung had stated that he would be taking Jimin to Changdeok to see Jungkook. Aeja-ssi had been there, but she hadn’t said a thing, her attention elsewhere. Jimin couldn’t bring himself to say that he believed it was a bad idea. Jungkook hadn’t said anything about wanting to see him, yet Taehyung spoke as if it was an unspoken agreement. It was almost embarrassing to say his fears out loud, but what if Jungkook didn’t want to see him? He hadn’t been in a clear state of mind the last time they had spoken after all.

A hand placed itself on his shoulder and he jumped in his skin, snapping his gaze to the right. Aeja-ssi didn’t smile at him, but her eyes softened. Her gaze slid to the garden and soon he looked back as well. “What do you think will become of me?” he asked.

Aeja-ssi exhaled a breath, slow and heavy. “You will be fine,” she said, quietly.

“Will I? It seems everyone that has associated with the Kims has suffered.” He spoke softly, yet the words still prompted a wince from Aeja-ssi. The hand on his shoulder tightened.

“Eunah was paranoid and unstable,” Aeja-ssi said just as softly. “Hyungwon’s abeoji made sure of that. She whispered this paranoia into your eomma’s ear for years, leading her to do what she did. As for my husband. . . his death was a misfortune, a conglomeration of ill circumstances. With Taehyung. . . his soulmate. . .they were a victim of cruelty.”

“A victim of Hyungwon. All of them were a victim of cruelty at the hands of Hyungwon, if not directly.”

There was silence for a beat. “Hyungwon is with many faults, I cannot deny that, but he is not entirely without redemption.”

Jimin shook his head, eyes wide. “Aeja-ssi, you can’t possibly be. . .”

She removed her hand from his shoulder, folding them within her sleeves. “It is easy to hide fear behind hatred. This is not me saying that your hatred is unfounded. I simply ask that you not view the world with such a singular view. I have seen what it has done to my own son and I do not wish the same for you.” She sighed. “I can see that I have upset you.” She squeezed his arm one last time before turning away. “Visit Jungkook tonight with Taehyung and for one night, do not think of your hatred and choose something better. Grant yourself that much.” With that she was gone.

Taehyung appeared at Jimin’s door at the stroke of midnight and immediately scowled at Jimin who had been ready for a while, fidgeting nervously at the table. “Jimin-ah, I’ve spent a sizable fortune on you, yet you persist to offend me with your awful taste?”

“It is a simple hanbok!” he exclaimed.

“Exactly!” He strode passed Jimin into his room, lantern raised high, expression determined and fierce. One would think he was going into battle. He grumbled irritably as he riffled through Jimin’s things. Jimin simply stood at the doorway, not wanting to prod Taehyung or he might try to assault him with accessories.

They fought in hushed whispers until Taehyung practically wrestled Jimin into a different hanbok, this one the color of water in the night with moonlight flowers crafted over it. “Where did this even come from?” he muttered before Taehyung practically shoved him out of the room. Taehyung didn’t have to bother with magic while in Lotus House. He had already assured him that every servant was more loyal to his eomma than Hyungwon which was a carefully kept secret.

Jimin has asked Taehyung several times if he was alright to take him, judging by the strain last night had put on him. Taehyung waved away his worries by saying it would be easier since it was only them. He wouldn't have fashion sleeping illusions for them either. Jimin still worried, noting Taehyung’s dark circles and lighter pallor.

Once they slipped outside into the soft mist rain, Taehyung cast them under his magic. They walked quickly, and though Jimin trusted Taehyung’s magic, his heart stopped every time a guard came into view. Each time, they passed by them without incident. They didn’t carry a lantern because it would just be one other thing Taehyung needed to make disappear. Their way was lit by other lanterns anyway that burned throughout the night, primarily near guard posts where moths beat themselves against the warm glow.  It was going fine despite the thin clouds clotting the sky. That was until they were stopped by an unexpected culprit.

A loud bark startled Taehyung and Jimin let out a gasp upon seeing Garo bounding towards them. He stopped several feet from them and started barking. He looked elated, eyes wide and bright, almost like Jungkook’s, tongue wagging. “He can see us?!” Jimin exclaimed.

“Of course,” Taehyung hissed. “You really think Jungkook would  keep a normal dog? He trained him to scent out auras before he even bothered to teach him to sit.”

Curse Jungkook and his resourcefulness.

“Make him stop!” Jimin exclaimed.

“I can’t knockout a dog! Especially not Jungkook’s dog. He’ll obliterate me.”

“He’s not here though!”

“He’ll find out somehow and I value my safety, thank you very much.”

"Then distract him!"

" Again , he's Jungkook's dog. You really think he's that stupid?"

They startled at the sound of voices.

“I think it’s the dog,” someone said, the cast of their lantern sweeping the floor past a corner. “Wonder what he found.” He sounded bored, making him slow.

Without thinking, Jimin grabbed Garo off the floor. He almost tipped forward, surprised by the weight of the dog. “Let’s go,” he huffed out and they went off running, Garo wriggling in his grip so he could lick Jimin’s face. He wanted to laugh as much as he wanted to cry. Luckily, they were close enough to Changdeok which explained why Garo was here. Even if he wasn’t allowed inside, he was still protecting his master. They sped passed the guards stationed outside Changdeok who startled at the feeling of the air rippling passed them, but Taehyung and Jimin didn’t stop. They crossed the bridge and hurried into the nearest bushes before collapsing. Garo bounded out of Jimin’s arms almost immediately, abandoning them without hesitation. He wouldn't be surprised if Garo had just used them to get into the property. “What does he feed you?” he gasped, kneeling over in the dirt to catch his breath.

“I want to be mad, but I can’t,” Taehyung muttered, wiping at his brow and Jimin looked over. Their eyes locked and they burst out into giggles.

Jimin smacked Taehyung in a weak attempt to get him to stop, but his own sides were in stitches. Catching his breath again, he said, “Found out by a dog, Tae, you’re not as good as I thought.”

“Hey, he’s Jungkook’s dog. I bet he feeds him beast meat so he can grow stronger.”

“It definitely explains why he’s so heavy.”

“Actually, I slaughter the best chickens from the nearby farm,” a new voice said and both of them jumped, Taehyung knocking back into Jimin sending him out of his crouch and onto his butt. Jungkook looked down at them, Garo seated happily by his legs. Jungkook was still dressed, arms crossed over his chest. He had been expecting them. His eyes pinned Jimin down, lucid and calm unlike yesterday. It was almost like meeting a different person entirely. Jimin swallowed. 

Taehyung pushed to his feet first and Jimin slowly followed suite, hoping that if he stretched out his movements long enough, he could put off having to meet Jungkook’s gaze again and read what lay in there. When Taehyung made a movement to leave, Jimin instinctively caught his hand. Jungkook’s gaze snapped towards the movement and narrowed. “It’s fine, Jiminie,” Taehyung whispered, gently tugging his hand out of his grasp before fixing Jungkook with a brief look. He nodded then slipped out from behind the bush. Garo padded after him, leaving them alone.

Jimin didn’t expect the first words to come out of Jungkook’s mouth to be, “Thank you for bringing Garo.”

“That. . .wasn’t my intention, but I suppose you’re welcome.”

Jungkook stood right at the edge of the large bush, meaning four feet from Jimin. The violet flowers brushed against his side, tickling the back of his hand and his neck. Bits of misty rain had collected on Jungkook’s dark hair, like little diamonds. There were too many for Jungkook to have just come out. Jimin told himself not to think that Jungkook had been standing outside waiting for them. Jimin couldn’t tell what he was thinking which felt odd. Usually, his expression was written clearly on his face. His chest ached at the idea that he was the reason his eyes weren’t speaking tonight. The ground crunched beneath Jungkook’s feet as he shifted from one foot to the other. Eventually, his fingers fluttered up to his hair as he tugged, his gaze averting itself. He’s nervous .

It was almost as if he fed off Jungkook’s anxiety. The less comfortable Jungkook was, the more confident Jimin felt almost as if he had to make up for it. “I’m sorry,” he blurted out.

Jungkook’s gaze snapped back to him, dark and wide. He didn’t say anything.

“I should have told you. I know. I’m a coward, I know. I was simply afraid.”

“Of what?” His voice was quiet, yet not entirely soft.

“Everything.”

Jungkook’s gaze shifted, almost hardening.

“I am not brave like you, Jungkook.”

“I am not brave.” He didn’t think Jungkook meant for him to hear. He quickly cleared his throat, his gaze flicking away. “And my hyungs? Did you tell them not to tell?”

“No, I didn’t know they knew until the day you found out.”

His jaw tightened and he glanced off to the side where maybe Taehyung and Garo were wandering about. Or maybe he wasn’t seeing anything. “You said. . . You said that you would be a slave by the Kim name. Is that why you didn’t tell me? Because of what I am?”

Jimin nodded then remembering Jungkook wasn’t looking, he said, “Yes, and partially because I think, deep inside, I thought that maybe you. . . you would just hurt me. Use me then discard me.” Like Hyungwon, like your father, he almost said, but he didn’t want to cause any more pain than he already had.

Jungkook snapped his gaze back to him and the light that was in there was not his usual one. “You have no right to judge me,” he snapped. “You don’t know me.”

“I know, I don’t.”

Jungkook clamped his mouth shut, but didn’t look away, almost as if he wished to bore a hole into Jimin and spill out all his thoughts. “Why did you come here tonight?”

HIs heart clenched at the sharp prick of pain. “I wanted to apologize.”

“You didn’t want to come. I know Taehyung probably forced you. You were going to run away. Just like in the forest.”

Jimin winced, but then he leveled his gaze with Jungkook’s. “You have a right to be angry with me, but just as I don’t know you, you don’t know me either. If you did, you would understand.”

Jungkook glared at him, but nothing came out of his mouth. He glanced over to the right once more then stepped back. “You should go back.”

Jimin startled both himself and Jungkook when he said, “No.”

Jungkook froze and looked back at him. “What?”

Jimin felt a swell of panic rise in his chest. All he could think of was what Aeja-ssi had said to him earlier. He knew somehow that if he left now, any chance of Jungkook welcoming him back again would be crushed. So despite being given a chance to run, Jimin chose to stay. "You made the right decision," he said. "Choosing to defy your abeoji."

"I didn't defy him."

“What do you call what you did then?” He knew he shouldn’t push him, but the fact that Jungkook couldn’t actually hurt him and was even speaking to him, made him feel bold.

Jungkook didn’t reply, but it didn’t feel like a victory. His simple refusal to admit that he may have defied his abeoji was evidence enough. The way he said it reminded Jimin of something he had no business forgetting. Jungkook was loyal to his family, first and foremost. Jimin didn’t blame him. He hadn’t exactly done anything to inspire loyalty.

“Taehyung tells me you chose this yourself. Why did you?”

He didn’t miss the wince even if Jungkook did try to hide it by tilting his face away. “I . . . I wanted to be selfish . . . for once.” It broke Jimin’s heart seeing the heavy guilt that dragged Jungkook’s features down. Jungkook’s eyes darted to Jimin, almost as if waiting for his judgement. He expected it. As if Jimin had any right to condemn one selfish act.

“Good.” Jungkook’s eyes widened and for the first time tonight, they opened to the night, allowing the starlight to fall in. Jimin ventured for a small smile. “I’m sure you deserved it.”

“And what if someone gets hurt?” It was strange, the way Jungkook spoke to him. It was like he truly waited for Jimin’s answers as if they were the only true answers to these questions he more than likely had been asking himself over and over again. It was unnerving holding that kind of power over someone.

“Who?” Jimin gestured to the property which was drowning in darkness with none of the lanterns lit. Jimin briefly imagined Jungkook sitting in the dark as rain sprayed down gently into his hair, waiting . . . Waiting for someone to come so he didn’t have to be alone even if it was the person he distasted the most. Jimin understood that loneliness all too well. “Maybe. . . this is a gift.” He watched Jungkook, afraid of his reaction to his careless words, but Jungkook didn’t reply straight away. Instead, his gaze drifted over the property, as if looking for a hidden person, a hidden excuse before his gaze landed back on Jimin.

“I don’t want to be alone.” It was clear that Jungkook hadn’t meant the words to slip out. Even after his lips clamped shut, his eyes spoke volumes of the pain, the fear, the loneliness. It was as if everything that sat in his eyes poured down over Jimin and almost broke him.

“You’re not alone,” he replied, softly. “Your hyungs will never leave you. Even Taehyung. He only uses us as an excuse to come see you. Yoongi-ssi and Hoseok-ssi were angry with him for not inviting them yesterday. I’m sure they’ll come soon. I can’t imagine anything stopping them.”

There was a beat of silence during which Jungkook stared at the bush. 

Jimin let out a quiet breath. “I’ll take my leave then.” he whispered and made a move to step passed Jungkook.

A hand closed around his wrist, disappearing within a second. Jimin didn’t turn as Jungkook said. “And you?” His voice wavered, hovering just above a whisper.

It took Jimin only a moment to realize what he was asking. Do I have you? He turned back to face Jungkook, but he wasn’t looking at him. He reached out and caught Jungkook’s wrist. It was warm, despite the rain. He felt Jungkook’s pulse quicken beneath his fingers. Their magic hummed appreciatively beneath their skin. He longed to unfurl some of it, just to see how Jungkook’s would react. He had been careful the last time they had touched, but maybe just a breath. . . “Only if you want me.”

They stood absolutely still, Jimin watching Jungkook and Jungkook watching the pond. He let as many seconds slip by as he dared before he released him. He hadn’t been expecting an answer, but the silence hurt just the same. “Goodnight, Jungkook,” he said.

Goodbye, Jungkook.

“Teach me.”

“Huh?”

Jungkook whirled to face him, his eyes alight, something similar to his usual glow. “You are the only one who can touch me without getting hurt. You are one of the most powerful people I know. You can teach me.” A few dots of rain had fallen into Jungkook’s lashes and when he blinked, they shattered.

A moment passed in silence. “It won’t be easy.”

“I never believed it would be.”

Jimin nodded. “I will speak to Taehyung.”

He found Taehyung crouched in the side yard, harassing Garo by waving a stick over his head, but not throwing it. He looked up upon hearing Jimin approach, but looked back to Garo, clamping his hands down on his fluffy cheeks. “You didn’t expect them to last that long, did you?” he asked then shaked Garo’s head for him.

Garo wriggled free, shaking his body to spray the light raindrops off himself, causing him to look twice his size. He barked at Taehyung in reproach, but proceeded to paw at his chest. Taehyung chuckled. Maybe Garo pushed too hard, but in the next moment, Taehyung swayed back and fell onto his bum. Jimin was by his side in a second. He had noticed Taehyung’s wane appearance, but Taehyung hadn’t listened to him. 

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook asked, concern coloring his words.

“Nothing,” Taehyung muttered, though his trembling hand that clutched Jimin’s sleeve tightly said otherwise. Taehyung fixed his gaze on the ground as he used Jimin to raise himself. Once he straightened his head, most likely to speak, he swayed again.

“Hyung, you shouldn’t push yourself like this,” Jungkook said, dropping all pretense and hurrying forward.

“It’s the anniversary, isn’t it?” Jimin asked, quietly and Taehyung looked at him for a moment before he nodded. Jimin snapped his gaze to Jungkook. “May he stay here a while?”

“Of course.” Jungkook looked like a child right then, eyes wide. “But----”

“He’s just tired,” Jimin said.

Jungkook took the excuse and hurriedly led them towards the house. There was only one bedroom so once Jimin had removed Taehyung’s outer robe, he placed him down on Jungkook’s bed. He used his hands to ruffle the rain out of his hair. 

“Why were you sitting out in the rain when you weren’t feeling well?” Jungkook demanded, clearly out of worry rather than annoyance though he tried his best to sound angry. Jimin tried not to find it endearing. “And why would you bring Jimin here if you were not feeling up to it?”

Taehyung just groaned, rolling over to his side so he didn’t have to look at Jungkook. “Jiminie, make him go away.”

“It’s his room, Tae.”

“Then tell him to make his hyung tea.”

Jungkook threw his hands up. “I’m standing right here!”

Taehyung peered over his shoulder and said, “Make me tea, Jungkookie.”

Jungkook’s brow furrowed and his lips pressed into a thin line. They stared at each other for a good ten seconds before Jungkook turned on his heel and walked out. A few seconds later, the sound of a match striking was heard. Taehyung chuckled as he rolled back onto his side. “What a cutie.”

Jimin placed a hand on his shoulder. “Will you be alright?”

“Don’t worry about me, Jimin. Just go and help Jungkook make my tea.” He winked at him and Jimin smacked his shoulder. Taehyung hissed and scrunched his shoulders around himself.

“Stop abusing a sick person.”

“You have it coming.” He picked up the blanket and laid it over Taehyung. “Now go to sleep.”

“Mm-hm.” Taehyung was already asleep by the time Jimin left the room.

Jungkook didn’t know why he waited for Jimin to appear. Maybe it was the same reason he had sat out on the first step of the house for an hour. He claimed it was because he couldn’t sleep. He didn’t ask why it was he couldn’t sleep. Just like before there was no guarantee that he was come. 

But he did.

He hovered at the entrance of the kitchen, silent, yet jungkook felt ever shift of his fingers. He surprised himself by being the one to break the silence. “Why are you favored by the air?” He stared at the small black pot he had placed over the fire. The water let off a small whisk of steam. 

“I don’t know. I don’t think anybody knows why they are favored.”

“No, I mean. . .” He sighed and turned to face Jimin. “If you really are my soulmate, why would you be favored by air? Why not water?”

“Why would I be the thing that destroys you?”

“So instead you are the thing that I destroy?”

An amused smile danced on his lips as he cocked his head to the side. “What makes you think you destroy me?”

Jungkook turned back to the stove abruptly, tucking his chin against his chest in an attempt to hide his burning face. “No fair,” he mumbled.

“Did you say something, Jungkook?”

He turned back and said, “You may be older, but I am your superior.”

Jimin raised a brow and Jungkook fought the urge to look away again. “Oh, so you want to be Jungkook-ssi?”

“Yes.” Why did I say that? “And I’ll call you hyung.”

“Just Jimin is fine.”

“ Hyung , can you pass the tea leaves?” He pretended not to see the amused smirk on Jimin’s lips as he turned towards the shelf Jungkook gestured towards. Jimin handed the box off to him before settling himself back against the counter, the same distance as before. 

“Most people put the leaves in before the water gets to a boil.”

Jungkook ignored the comment and blamed his warm cheeks on the fact that he was hovering over a boiling pot. They didn’t speak again until the tea was done. He didn’t have to say anything for Jimin to hand him the teapot before moving back into the hall. As it turned out, Taehyung wasn’t even awake to drink the tea. 

Jimin sighed, looking down at Taehyung.

“Is he sick or just tired?” Jungkook asked, placing the tray down on the table.

“Just tired, I think.”

Jungkook sensed there was more to the story, but he didn’t say anything, simply glancing at his cousin. Jimin fussed over the sheets on Taehyung’s body. He had already messed everything up, pillows tucked against his chest, mouth open. Once he finished, he straightened and said, “Can you call me when he wakes?”

Jungkook’s spine straightened. “Where are you going?”

“Outside. I . . .”

“It’s raining.”

“Barely.” 

“What if a guard sees you?”

“I won’t stay on the front lawn.”

Jungkook’s fists clenched then he released them. “Just sit down. I don’t want the tea to go to waste,” he added because he was stupid.

Thankfully, Jimin took a seat opposite him, glancing back at Taehyung. 

“What is with you two?” he asked, his voice coming out scratchy.

Jimin looked back. “Huh?”

“Are you two together?”

Jimin’s brow furrowed. “Together?”

“Hyung has had male lovers before so I thought. . .” Now he was truly feeling dumb.

Jimin didn’t laugh, just simply shook his head. “No, we’re not together.”

“Would you like to be?”

Jimin looked at him harder this time. After a moment, he shook his head. “No.” His voice came out quiet.

Jungkook felt as though he had misstepped somewhere and it didn’t take a genius to figure out where. He dropped his gaze, feeling like he should apologize, but he knew he shouldn’t. He hadn’t been wrong to ask after all. An awkward silence fell over them, the only sound in the room that of Taehyung breathing. Jungkook fiddled with his teacup, turning it around and around.

“You told me your abeoji was looking for a bride for you.”

His eyes snapped up. “I doubt he is now. Everyone must have heard of what happened. He’s ashamed of me. That’s why I’m in here.”

“Well, let’s hope your time here is well spent.”

Jimin awoke to the sound of birds and a dog barking. Before he could react, he heard Jungkook curse right before the table scrapped across the floor, knocking into his shin. He opened his eyes just in time to see Jungkook throw open the door then he listened to his quick bare feet as they rushed to the door.

Jimin looked over his shoulder to the bed and found Taehyung still fast asleep despite the sunlight pouring down on him. Jimin fixed the curtains so they blocked his face before turning to tend to the dishes he and Jungkook had left behind. He froze upon hearing voices outside. He listened carefully, but was unable to make out the exact words. His muscles tensed as soon as he heard footsteps on the steps, but relaxed when he noted that they were a sole pair and that they were bare as well. A moment later, Jungkook appeared, his eyes as wild as his hair. “What happened?”

“Garo started barking at a butterfly and the guards came to check. They wanted to check the grounds, but I managed to convince them that they were mistaken. I should have warned Garo beforehand.”

“You can speak to him?”

“Not really.” He scratched the back of his neck. “But I believe he understands much better than most dogs.”

“You know. . .” He paused, unsure if he should go on.

“Tell me.”

He bit his lip, but continued. “I think Garo might actually be part beast.”

“What? That’s impossible!”

Taehyung snorted loudly in his sleep, jerking a bit before smacking his lips and falling still once more.

“I mean he managed to sense Taehyung and me even when we were under an illusion. Taehyung claimed it was becuase you trained him, but he was a good distance away when he noted us. I wouldn’t say it's impossible.”

Jungkook opened his mouth as if to argue, but he seemed to realize there was no rebuttal. He closed his mouth.

“Beasts are just like animals as much as they are like humans.” He shrugged. “They just so happen to be more powerful than both.”

“Have you ever killed one?”

Jimin shook his head. ‘It was a part of the pact between Shiba and us, remember? Since we weren’t allowed weapons, we made do with traps to catch small prey.”

Jungkook’s eyebrows shot up. “So you aren’t trained in swords?”

He shook his head and strangely, Jungkook looked smug.

“Well then I can teach you. In fair exchange for you teaching me magic.”

Jimin was unimpressed. “What if I don’t want to learn how to wield a sword?”

Jungkook looked dumbfounded. “Why wouldn’t you?”

“Because I have my magic and my fists.” He scrunched up his nose. “Besides, I don’t like swords. It’s barbaric.”

Jungkook looked thoroughly offended. “Swordfighting is an art.”

Jimin raised a brow. “Sure.”

Jungkook scoffed. “So if I came at you with a sword, what would you do?”

“I would swat you away like a fly.” He fought the urge to laugh at the way Jungkook’s mouth thinned. 

“And if I used my magic to fend off your own and kept coming at you?”

“I would evade.”

“What if there were more of me? You can’t evade all your enemies and you can’t get to me with your fists.”

“I’m pretty crafty.”

Jungkook glared at him, but somehow, it was more funny than intimidating. Jimin quickly covered his mouth, but the laugh still stumbled out. Jungkook got to his feet, towering over Jimin. “Fine, then let’s settle it with a match.”

Jimin didn’t try to stop his laughter this time. “Why are you all like this?”

“Like what?”

Jimin got to his feet. “Fine. We can duel.”

Jimin went into the duel thinking he was wasting his time, but that he would have a good laugh out of it. He was sorely mistaken. He had underestimated Jungkook ruthlessness. He was quick and nimble, but so was Jimin. But Jungkook was more than that. His power was frightening. With every strike he dealt out that Jimin managed to avoid, he genuinely believed Jungkook was trying to actually hurt him. Nothing in Jungkook’s gaze told him that that might not be true. He realized then the difference between them. Jimin may have been the one raised among beasts, but it was Jungkook who had been trained to kill. Jimin had been taught to use his magic to kill if necessary and use his fists to defend himself. Meanwhile, every part of Jungkook had been honed for the sole purpose of bringing an end to any threat as quickly as possible. Even Taemin, a fierce enough opponent, hadn’t had such a look in his eye. 

Without using a drop of magic, Jungkook had Jimin on the floor, his sword planting itself straight into the earth right by Jimin’s ear. Pain and warmth erupted around Jimin’s ear and his eyes widened. Jungkook hovered over him, one knee planted on the ground beside Jimin’s hip, the other propped up to hold his forearm. The trees danced wildly behind his head, but Jimin could only focus on his gaze which was somehow dark, yet blazing bright at the same time. Jimin knew that if he reached out now and touched Jungkook's skin, he would feel the power flood into him. He shivered just thinking about it. “Do you still think you don’t need to be trained?” he whispered.

“What is wrong with you?” Taehyung asked.

“N-Nothing.”

They were walking home. Taehyung had been awake when Jungkook and Jimin had eventually made their way back inside, but he had refused to leave until Jungkook made him food. With a smug smile, Jungkook told him he had no idea how to cook like it was something to be proud of. In the end, Jimin made them all food, though he made sure to add extra spice into both their stews. Neither of them had the nerve to complain and once they finished, Taehyung and Jimin had taken their leave. Jimin refused to let his gaze linger because he knew Jungkook’s wouldn’t either. Taehyung had dropped the shroud as soon as they were a decent distance from Changdeok and no one was in sight. It was well past noon so it wasn’t strange to find either of them about.

Taehyung didn’t believe him, raising his brow and leaning in. “Did Jungkook do something?” he asked, a sly smile taking over. It seemed sleeping over twelve hours had done him some good.

“He beat me up,”Jimin replied.

Taehyung immediately scowled. “What is wrong with that kid? His methods of flirting are alarming.”

Jimin rolled his eyes. “He was not flirting with me. He just likes proving a point.”

“And here I thought you two looked disheveled for another reason. How boring.”

It took Jimin a moment to understand what Taehyung meant and by then Taehyung already had enough time to dodge Jimin’s smack, laughing brightly. “Listen to your hyung, Taehyung-ah, and take the hit like a good dongsaeng,” he called after him.

Taehyung just laughed, dodging behind a corner and Jimin rushed after him. He caught him much too easily, bringing him into a headlock.

“Having fun?” a voice asked.

Jimin’s eyes darted up and he instantly released Taehyung, causing him to fall onto the floor. “T-Taemin-ssi,” he said. “Uh, hello.”

Taemin smiled. “I actually came to see you at Lotus House, but one of the servants said you were out. It’s my luck to run into you since I am about to leave with my family to return to Gyeongsan.” He looked to Taehyung and inclined his head as Taehyung did the same once he was on his feet again.

“Is something wrong?”

“No, not that I know of. I actually had some information for you.” His gaze flickered to Taehyung.

Jimin glanced at Taehyung who suddenly adorned a serious expression. “What is it?” Taehyung said.

“Whatever you want to say, you can say it in front of him,” Jimin said. He didn’t know what he was expecting. What kind of information would Taemin have for him? He didn’t even know anything about his family expect the lies he had told and he didn’t think Taemin was so dumb as to have fallen for those clumsy lies.

Taemin nodded, seeming unbothered. “Before I say anything, may I have your eomma’s name?”

Jimin's chest instantly tightened and he felt as though the air had become much too brittle. He glanced at Taehyung who nodded. Jimin looked back to Taemin. “Chanri," he whispered.

Taemin released a slow breath, a slow somewhat sad smile sliding onto his lips. “I was curious after our encounter the other day. Just as Hyungwon-ssi said, your techniques are from the Lee clan, yet you said you grew up in Yeongju. It is very rare for someone of our clan to ever leave Gyeongsan since we are rather close-knit. I asked my halmeoni who accompanied us for the festivals if she knew anyone who may have left. According to her, no one has left the Lee clan in over seventy years, but . . .someone had been banished.”

Jimin didn’t dare breath.

“My halmeoni’s youngest sister had been banished by their abeoji when she was only eighteen. Apparently, on his deathbed, he rescinded her banishment and begged his children to find her and bring her back. It wasn't until a year after he died that they found the village she had resided in. They found her married and with a child.” Taemin smiled faintly. “The child was named Chanri.”

“What happened?” His voice came out soft and breathless. Something in his chest had loosened, unfurling slowly and softly.

“They tried to convince her to return, but she refused. My halmeoni tried to convince her as well, but she never did. She kept visiting throughout her life as Chanri grew up, under the guise of a distant relative, never using the Lee name. Then one year, she came to visit only to find the village destroyed. She searched everywhere for them. All she found was her sister and her husband, but not Chanri.”

“My eomma . . . she said she had been taken by bandits when she was younger. They had planned on selling her and some other girls in Yeongju. It was here that she broke everyone out, including Aeja-ssi.” He heard Taehyung’s sharp intake of breath and clamped his hand around his friend’s hand. “They were here the entire time.”

Taemin smiled sadly. “My halmeoni assumed Chanri had died in the fire that overtook half the village, but a part of her had always hoped . . . I’m sure halmeoni would like to meet with you. Maybe one day, when we return to Yeonju or you find yourself in Gyeongsan. Just know that Yangson is always open to you.” Taemin inclined his head to them, small smile in place. “Hopefully we meet again one day.” With that, he turned, but before he could leave, he looked back. "And your secret is safe with me."

Jimin opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

"I may not understand, but I am sure you have your reasons."

"Thank you," Jimin whispered.

With one last nod, Taemin turned and disappeared.

Chapter Text

Jungkook was weary of the vial Jimin handed him, looking first at the palm-sized glass vial with its sealed stopper then up at Jimin, brow furrowed. “It’s not poison,” Taehyung said with a smile.

Jimin sighed. “It’s a brew my eomma made to help calm down my magic when I was younger. My magic was rather, uh, difficult.”

Jungkook’s eyes appeared to light up as he pounced on Jimin’s words. “You were like me?”

“I suppose, though everyone is different.”

Somehow those words were all Jungkook needed to hear, swiping the vial from Jimin’s outstretched hand. He eyed the brown-green liquid. “How come no one ever bothered to give it to me?” Jungkook asked though he had finally ventured to touch the cork, his finger rubbing over the wax.

“Please,” Taehyung muttered. “Samchon relying on toxins and herbs?” He was behind Jimin, arms crossed.

“Besides, they are more of a pliable suppressant and most people don’t need it,” Jimin added.

Jungkook looked up, narrowing his eyes. “You said I shouldn’t suppress it anymore. Besides, it hasn’t appeared since you touched me.”

Jimin shook his head. “If you want to try to master it, you will have to coax it out again. It will be easier if there is a slight restraint to it, so you won’t feel as hesitant.”

A beat passed then Jungkook closed his hand again, dropping his arm. They were within the southern end of the property. Sun dappled brightly over their skin, dancing with the branches above them. Jimin watched as Jungkook took the concoction and let out a slow breath once he finished. Taehyung took the vial then nodded his head at them both before heading back to the house, Garo following after. Jimin gestured to the sea of leaves at their feet. “Have a seat then.”

For the first three hours, nothing happened. Frustration and impatience crashed against Jungkook’s stubbornness as he was forced to sit on the forest floor with Jimin and meditate. He had never been an avid practitioner of meditation, but he used to sit beside his hyungs when he was younger and close his eyes briefly, pretending he felt something. Despite the ill feelings broiling in the pit of his stomach, he didn’t open his eyes once. He reasoned that meditation was like any other discipline. He would practice and he would master it.

Jimin only spoke to reprimand him for fidgeting the first couple of times, but eventually Jungkook ceased, letting the silence fall between them. The air always felt light and warm. It was different somehow from Jimin’s magic. He wondered about the feeling of Jimin’s magic against his skin once more. He forced himself to think nothing instead.

It was later in the evening, The air was cooling against his skin, the cicadas singing with the breeze. It was his favorite part of the summer. When the sun began to fall and the world felt as though it was coming to life. He didn’t open his eyes to see the lanterns bleed warmth into the night, the fireflies rising from the grass. He imagined the grass, moist and rich, sitting at the bottom of his gut. The fireflies rose, almost like sparks from a fire, up into his chest, breathing life into his lungs. 

He held his breath for a moment then let it fall out from his lips. He opened his eyes slowly and took in the sight before him. Light ran through the veins of his hands, a soft pulse like a broken heart. He didn’t dare raise his hands, but his mouth opened. “Jimin,” he whispered.

“Good,” Jimin breathed, his foot scraping the ground in his haste to move into a crouch. He leaned close and Jungkook flinched back. The light began to retreat, the veins shrinking.

“No,” he hissed.

“Jungkook,” Jimin said, softly. “Don’t try to force it to stay. Stop trying to control it.”

He wanted to shake his head. He wanted to explain to Jimin that it was control he should be practicing, not release. It was in every word his tutor used to say. Control your magic or it will control you. That was what had happened with Seokjin, it was what had happened in the lotus garden.

“Jungkook-ah,” Jimin whispered once more and Jungkook released a sharp breath. His death grip on his magic dropped and the light flickered away. Jimin’s fingers hovered near Jungkook’s fingers. “May I?” he whispered and Jungkook nodded. Jimin’s fingers were short and somewhat chubby, almost cute. His fingertips grazed over Jungkook’s palm, sending an unwarranted shiver through his body. He watched in amazement as light bled into his skin wherever Jimin touched him, his touch cool and tantalizing. His magic hummed. “Do you feel it?” Jimin whispered.

Jungkook nodded. “It didn’t run away.”

Jimin shook his head. “No, it’s just hiding.” Jimin raised his head and Jungkook mimicked the movement, their eyes meeting. Jimin smiled, his eyes curving into crescents. “Good job, Jungkook-ah.”

Jimin came to find that Jungkook was not used to things not coming easily. He was as blessed as any child could be, but the skills needed to master his magic were not something inheirated. The first problem, Jungkook’s fear and apprehension, hindered him, but he made quick progress once he was assured Taehyung was nowhere within harm’s way (though Jungkook wouldn’t say aloud that he didn’t want Taehyung hurt) and the fact that Jimin couldn’t be hurt by his magic. That was a lie of course. If Jungkook truly wished to hurt Jimin, he could. Flay the skin off his bones, liquify his eyes. But Jungkook did not want that so his magic did not want it either. For the longest time, Jungkook had convinced himself that he and his magic were two seperate things, that it wanted to hurt. It was true, but only when one was young, when the magic inside them had not fully fused with the soul. 

Jimin remembered Shiba’s laughter, creud and chilling, as she prowled the edge of meadow, eyes pinned on Jimin. You humans don’t understand a thing. Silence and plants will only do so much.

Chanri was unamused with Shiba’s lurking habits, didn’t like the way she always eyed Jimin. She glared at the beast. “Then what do you suggest?” she asked. She was the only one capable of speaking to Shiba in such a way. To this day, Jimin did not understand why Shiba let his eomma get away with such behavior.

Shiba’s mouth curled off her teeth in a feral grin as she dipped her head, lids lowering. Give me an offering and I may help .

Chanri huffed out a breath then made an impatient gesture for Jimin to get up. He hurried to his feet, feeling the heat of Shiba’s gaze, sending fire blazing over his skin. He hid behind his eomma’s leg, clutching her pant leg.

Then one day, Shiba appeared while Jimin was outside alone. He immediately rushed to his feet, poised to run, but his eomma’s voice stopped him. “Go, Jimin,” she said from the shanty porch, her mouth set in a grim line. 

“Eomma,” he whimpered.

Your eomma has given me something in return for my assistance.

“She will help you, Jimin,” his eomma said, coming down and over to him, crouching before him. Her face held a cut right across the cheek, the result from his latest attempt at trying to tame the endless whirlwind within his body. She placed her hands on his thin upper arms. “She will make sure you are so strong that no one can ever hurt you.”

He had gone with Shiba and he had learned. Things didn’t come easily to him. He knew something close to perfection at the cost of a wrecked body. It was how he had been taught. One glance at Jungkook and he knew the other held the same glint in his eyes. Maybe that was why Jimin was so lenient with him. Jimin chose to ignore the irritation that broiled beneath Jungkook’s skin when his magic didn’t manifest the correct way, just as he ignored the way Jungkook lashed out at him when it became too much, letting the words fall off his skin with a small laugh. He knew Jungkook was bothered by how effortless Jimin’s magic came about, but that didn’t stop Jungkook’s eyes from sticking to Jimin’s fingers every time he made a gesture, entranced and rapt.

A sure way of fixing Jungkook’s mood, however, was when they moved onto Jimin’s training. Jungkook slipped easily into the position of master and often wore a smirk as he watched Jimin work over a certain move. Jimin had had his reservation about learning, but now that he was, he gave it his all. During their training sessions, they were allowed to pretend everything was alright, that they existed only in this world big enough for the two of them.

At first, Jungkook would stand off to the side, his arms crossed, speaking up only when Jimin messed something up. But as the days went by, his posture loosened and he broke away from his spot, venturing closer for the first time. Jimin didn’t comment and instead watched from the corner of his eyes as Jungkook let himself become better acquainted with Jimin’s presence. The first inking of attention Jimin received from Jungkook outside of his short remarks came in the form of teases.

“You can do better than that,” Jungkook exclaimed. “You aren’t gripping it correctly. At this rate, you’ll impale yourself. Or worse, me.”

“That wouldn’t be so bad,” Jimin snapped without thinking then immediately straightened to look over at Jungkook. “I’m trying. Don’t be so rough with me.” Sometimes he liked to tease back when Jungkook was in a particularly good mood. Problem was, Jimin wasn’t, but he chose to pretend.

“Well try harder. Your moves are all over the place. I thought you were a fighter.”

Jimin set his jaw. “I am . I’m just not used to moving this way. The movements are all wrong!”

Jungkook rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. “I’m sure nine-year-old me could beat you as you are now.”

Jimin opened his mouth, but thought better of it. Instead, he simply gripped his sword harder. Maybe it was the sun or the sweat culminating beneath the bandages he had around his palms to cover the blisters. Maybe it was his lack of food, his lack of rest. Maybe it was his inadequacy. Either way, when he hit the dirt again, he didn’t bother to get up. The sun was at its highest. The wind chimes Taehyung had brought for Jungkook from Seokjin tinkled in the wind from the other side of the house. The earth was hard and warm beneath him, he closed his eyes.

Jungkook didn’t approach him right away. First, there was the shuffle of feet on one spot. Then silence. Feet crunched over the ground, jerking to a stop nearby. Jimin opened his eyes and Jungkook stared down at him. “We train for six hours in swords, hyung,” he said, quietly, a little annoyed, but hesitant as well. He gazed down at Jimin, his eyes narrowed, wary yet calculating. Jungkook was often a fumble of contradictions around Jimin as if his instincts told him one thing and his mind told him another.

Jimin rolled onto his side, avoiding both the sun and Jungkook, both too invasive.

Jungkook nudged the toe of his boot into Jimin’s spine, firm, but not sharp. “Hyung.”

Silence.

“Ya, Jimin-ah!”

Jimin snapped back onto his back, glaring up at the other. “ Hyung ,” Jimin replied and Jungkook’s mouth curved into a devil’s grin.

“Get up, Jimin-ah!” he said, nudging his toe against Jimin’s ribs.

Jimin was up in seconds, lunging for the brat, but he was quicker for once, leaping out of the way with a cackle that bordered on genuinely panicked as Jimin shot after him. Jimin quickly gave up and Jungkook sputtered to a stop several feet away, still laughing, his cheeks red. He looked much too proud of himself, but before Jimin could try for a lunge again, Taehyung declared his presence by calling out for him. “Jimin-ah, let’s go home!”

“We’re not done yet,” Jungkook said immediately frowning, crossing his arms. “Six hours for sword practice.”

Taehyung raised a brow, descending the last step. “Really? It looked more like you were playing tag.”

“He was being a brat,” Jimin declared.

“You were being lazy,” Jungkook shot back.

“Fine, if you want to practice so badly then let’s go.” He strode forward, heading for his sword, but before he could reach it, a hand was clasped around his arm.

“Bye-bye, Kookie,” Tae said, wiggling his fingers. He was dragging Jimin before anything else could be said.

Jimin didn’t realize just how hungry he was until a meal appeared before him. “Go slow,” Tae advised. “You haven’t eaten much for a while now.”

Feeling ashamed yet flattered that Tae had been worried, Jimin did as he was told, eating slowly and carefully, ignoring when his mind tried to rebel against the food. His mind knew he should be practicing, but his stomach was winning right now. He was well into his bowl of noodles when a knock came to the door. Tae popped to his feet and a moment later, Hoseok was before them. Now the third plate made sense, though Jimin hadn’t even thought to ask. “Not that I mind, but I am a little surprised you guys called me here,” Hoseok said taking a seat at the other end of the table.

“You don’t mind, right?” Tae asked and Jimin quickly shook his head, mouth full. He forced himself to swallow and said, “I don’t mind at all.”

Hoseok laughed as he took a seat, crossing his legs neatly.

Jimin felt himself ease up at the presence of that smile. He hadn’t forgotten that Hoseok had been the person who had made him feel welcome and comfortable on their trip up to Yeonju. Despite Jimin being the reason his arm had been in a splint, he had joked and conversed with him easily the whole way, keeping his mind from other things.

“You look tired,” Hoseok commented.

Jimin flicked his eyes between Tae and Hoseok before putting his orange slice down. “I’ve been training with Jungkook in magic and swords almost every day.”

Hoseok raised a brow. “And how is that going?”

“Jungkook . . . can be difficult.”

Hoseok nodded sagely. ”Jungkook-ah can be like that. He’s. . . shy.”

Jimin raised a brow. “ Shy ?” “Shy” was not a word he would use to describe the guy who had slaughtered numerous beasts without the use of magic. “Shy” was not the guy who had seamlessly led their team to victory without a stutter in his commands.

“The problem is, you’ve only ever seen him in a battle or a competition,” Hoseok explained. “He’s rather serious and confident in those matters.”

“I’ve met him alone before. Maybe he was shy, but he wasn’t like this. ”

“He saw you as a potential friend back then. He doesn’t have many if you haven’t noticed. I was the one who talked him up to speaking with you and perhaps developing a friendship.” Hoseok shrugged. “Maybe teasing you is his way of dealing with his feelings. You did shake up his world rather badly. Ease up on the kid. I’m sure he’s doing his best.”

Jimin didn’t come back the next day. Or the next. Jungkook would wait even while he pretended he wasn’t doing just that, but neither Jimin nor Taehyung appeared. Hours went by slowly when all one did was wait. He forced himself to shift his attention to something else, something productive. There was a trick Jimin had been practicing with him. He had mastered it and no longer impressed him, but he found a more amusing method of practice. It was different than before, when he was alone and had no guidance. Jimin wasn’t here, but through the time he had spent with him, Jungkook had built himself something solid to work from. His magic had never felt this solid before, so malleable. Maybe he could begin learning spells . . .

Jungkook often fell asleep at the table these days, so that was where he was when he felt the tell-tale tug in his chest. The cups on the table rattled in his abrupt jump to his feet. He raced to the back door before he even realized what he was doing. He caught himself in time and ducked to the side of the door frame, listening as Taehyung and Jimin greeted Garo with sweet voices. Jungkook ran a quick hand down the black hanbok from yesterday before doing the same to his hair. He waited for an acceptable amount of time before stepping outside. His gaze landed on Jimin instantly. He was dressed in his usual plain hanbok, nothing like the finery Taehyung usually dressed him when they went out. His dark hair was tousled and he wore a small smile. “Hello, Jungkook-ah,” he said.

“Where have you been?” he asked, feeling his frustration rising, but barely able to combat the other feeling overtaking him.

“I decided Jimin needed a break,” Taehyung said, brow raised, inviting Jungkook to argue.

“You could have sent word,” he mumbled.

“Oh, was little Jungkookie waiting for us?” Taehyung exclaimed in a mocking sugary voice.

“Who would wait for you?” Jungkook asked, rolling his eyes and ignoring the burn of his skin as he descended the steps. “Come on.”

Jungkook was eager, that much was clear. He didn’t talk back and when it came time to practice, there was a new zeal in his eyes. As soon as he performed something correctly, his eyes jumped to Jimin, seeking validation. Jimin resisted gushing over it, but he could do nothing to stop the painful smile that took over his face. “See? I told you you could do it,” he said, ruffling Jungkook’s hair. 

Jungkook ducked his head away from his hand with a little pleased smile that soon erupted into a bright wide smile. “I practiced while you were away. I did all the exercises you recommended as well.”

“I can see that.” He truly could. With each passing day, Jungkook’s magic appeared to burn a little bit brighter, singeing the air it touched. Jimin’s magic itched to unfurl itself and touch his, but he resisted.

Jimin, on the other hand, hadn’t practised in his time away. He had been too enamored by Hoseok presence and conjoled by Tae’s sweet words telling him to rest and eat. Now, he felt ashamed. "Taehyung is good at distracting," Jimin muttered, taking the offered sword. Jungkook raised a brow, but didn't say anything, his gaze on his own sword as he stepped back. They were dealing with dull-edged swords, but it still meant they were supposed to be careful. Jimin had suggested they start with wooden swords, but Jungkook had looked thoroughly insulted. You can do real swords or nothing. "Are you alright?" he ventured.

Jungkook shrugged his shoulder then raised his arm. When Jimin didn't mimic his stance, he said, "Did you forget already?"

"Are you not going to tell me?" He was careful not to say Are you going to lie to me? The irony would be too much to bare.

He thought that Jungkook would snap at him, but he didn’t expect the rosy ears. “It’s nothing,” he mumbled. “Come on.”

Jimin decided he would let it go for Jungkook’s sake and raised his sword. He had happily forgotten how it felt to be beat up by Jungkook, but he was quickly reminded. Six hours with magic and six hours with sword practice resulted in blisters, blood, sweat and not an ounce of energy left in either of them. Jimin stumbled towards the steps, collapsing without any grace, the hard edge of the wood digging into his spine as he leaned back. He listened to Jungkook’s footsteps as he trudged up the steps before focusing on the warm sun and wind licking the sweat off his face. He licked his lips, tasting salt. Jungkook returned. “Where’s hyung?” he asked and Jimin grudgingly pushed himself up and looked back at the other.

“Huh?”

“Taehyung-hyung isn’t here.”

Jimin narrowed his eyes, but mostly because he wanted to close them. He lowered himself down again. His stomach burned, empty and vicious. The back of his head pooled with nausea and blood. Jungkook wandered away again to either sit or look for Taehyung. Jimin doozed, nowhere near sleep, but not entirely present. He was jerked out of his lazy lounging by the sound of his name. He threw open his eyes to find none other than Hoseok and Yoongi with Taehyung at their side. “I went to get Jungkook a surprise,” Taehyung explained, proud.

Jungkook stepped out behind Jimin. “Hyung?”

“I see you’re having fun in exile,” Hoseok said, looking around Jungkook’s kitchen with a quick eye as he followed the younger towards the greeting room. “So much fun you can’t be bothered to clean your house.”

Jungkook glanced back at his hyungs with a frown but didn’t have a suitable rebuke so he gestured lamely to the cushions. In all honesty, the greeting room was much too formal for a talk with his friends, but his room was in a much more abysmal state. “Are you leaving?” he asked, his eyes darting from Yoongi and Hoseok.

Hoseok’s expression immediately twisted. “Only for a little while. I wanted to bring Yoongi back home. His halmeoni is being a tyrant. She’s threatening to disown him if he dawdles any longer.”

“I told him I don’t care,” Yoongi put in, waving a hand, leaning back on the other. “She can take all my money for all I care.”

Hoseok rolled his eyes. “Yeah, and we’ll live off my allowance for the rest of our lives? Besides, if you remain here, you will just cause trouble for Samchon.”

Yoongi scrunched his nose, but didn’t bother to contradict him. Who knew what Yoongi’s halmeoni would say or do the longer Yoongi lingered? Whatever it was, it wouldn’t please Abeoji one bit. “So what is happening with you and Jimin-ah?” Yoongi asked abruptly, downward twist to his mouth. He popped a dried apple into his mouth.

Jungkook’s fiddled with his hem. “Nothing,” he muttered. 

Yoongi scoffed. “Yes and nothing will happen if we leave you like this. I told you, Hob-ah, we leave him here like this, by the time we return, Jungkook-ah will be married to western wench.”

“Aish, stop being dramatic and sticking your nose in other people’s love lives,” Hoseok exclaimed.

“Jungkook-ah, you want me to have a word with Jimin? I can talk to him if you like.”

“No. No! Hyung, no, what are you even going to say?”

Yoongi flapped his hand, already on his feet and heading for the door. Jungkook made a move to get up, but Hoseok stopped him.

“He doesn’t like feeling useless. Just let him talk to him. I bet he won’t even say anything of consequence.”

Yoongi appeared from the house and took a seat on the other end of the steps, a few above where Jimin sat. Jimin glanced back and offered a smile which Yoongi returned with bare effort. Jimin slowly looked ahead once more, but he was much too aware of his presence to think of anything else. Tae had followed them inside, but had told Jimin he was making tea. He waited for Yoongi to say something, anything, but he didn’t. Maybe he wasn’t out here to talk and just wanted to escape from Jungkook and Hoseok. But that’s why he had come here, hadn’t he? To talk to Jungkook?

Jimin glanced over his shoulder. He wasn’t expecting to find Yoongi staring right at him. Yoongi snapped his gaze away, ears coloring a bright red though he acted as if it hadn’t happened. Jimin turned back, thinking that for Yoongi’s sake they could just pretend it hadn’t happened. A few seconds later and he heard something slid across the wood. He looked over to see that Yoongi had shifted a bit closer. He was looking again and this time his mouth was open. He didn’t say anything, but Jimin waited. 

“Jungkook-ah likes meat.”

Jimin blinked back at him. “Yeah. . .?”

Yoongi cleared his throat, shifting his fingers away from his mouth before rubbing at his neck. “Yeah. . . any kind of meat, but especially duck. . .”

“I’ve never seen a duck before.”

Yoongi’s eyes jerked back to him and his hand dropped. He narrowed his eyes. “What?”

Jimin chuckled nervously. “I just. . . never did.” They sat there for a long moment, then finding it unbearable, Jimin said, “But I’m sure they’re tasty.”

There was a beat of silence, then Yoongi said, “He also likes bread.”

“. . . Bread . . .?”

Yoongi nodded. He rubbed at his neck with his palm, his gaze on his fingers. “I used to cook little dishes for him and Hoseok when we visited.” He nodded to himself. “He always liked them. He was growing then so he ate a lot.”

“So he wasn’t always this big?”

Yoongi’s mouth twitched up into a small, shy smile. “No, he was a baby. He still is. He just has muscles now.”

Jimin laughed, twisting his legs so he was better facing the other. “Can you tell me more?”

Yoongi’s smile widened until his gums were exposed. “Of course.”

“He’s been gone a long time,” Jungkook muttered, eyeing the door. “He better not be harassing him.”

Hoseok snorted. “Aw, you’re so cute, Jungkook-ah,” he cackled. “Yoongi doesn’t know how to be intimidating.”

“But he knows how to pester someone.”

“Remind you of someone?”

“Yah!” Taehyung snapped, appearing at the doorway. “Yoongi says he wants you to come out.”

Hoseok smirked, popping to his feet while Jungkook followed hesitantly. 

Changdeok, like the rest of the manor, was enchanted. Lanterns lit themselves as soon as the sun dropped from the sky and extinguished themselves as soon as the sun rose again. Jungkook had spent countless hours sitting in his bedroom, playing with the lights, flickering them on and off for his amusement when he couldn’t sleep.

He found Yoongi standing, leaning against the wooden pillar while Jimin sat on the same step as before. Neither seemed particularly bothered, but Jungkook still shot his elder hyung a look. “Show us what you have been learning,” Yoongi said, waving a hand towards the empty back lawn.

Jungkook’s body tensed and his eyes immediately fell on Jimin who nodded. He had only practiced his magic when he had either been entirely alone or with Jimin. If he was alone, only he would get hurt. With Jimin, he wouldn’t let anything happen. Even still, he was always hyper aware of where Taehyung was on the property, constantly listening to the sound of Garo or Taehyung’s laughter. Thankfully, Taehyung never ventured near while they practiced magic though he sometimes took a seat to watch while they dueled.

“Show them the lantern one,” Jimin suggested, sounding more eager than Jungkook.

Jungkook tugged at his sleeves, nodding as he slowly descended the stairs. Back here, the only lanterns hung off from the back porch’s roof, everything in front of Jungkook cast in soft shadows all the way to the back wall fifty feet or so away from where he stood where lanterns sat atop the tall stone structure. He glanced at the lanterns that hung over his friends and immediately recoiled from the idea of messing with them. Taehyung must have read his mind. He immediately reached up and tugged the lantern off its hook. He came over and placed it on the ground and Jungkook’s feet. He winked then returned to his perch on the railing.

Jungkook looked down at the flame in the center of its paper walls. He raised his hand and after a beat, he snapped his fingers. The light went out. There was a smattering of applause that made Jungkook snort. “Wait,” he said and snapped his fingers again. The flame erupted to life, flaring big then settling down. He glanced up and Jimin nodded again, hands curled around his elbows. 

You can do it .

He startled at the words. Maybe he imagined it, but it was as if the wind had fluttered by his ear, whispering Jimin’s words into his ear even though the other’s lips had never moved.

He released a slow breath and stared back to the flame. It quivered then stretched up, elongating itself as it reached for Jungkook’s fingers. He could feel the heat on his palm as the flame stretched past the confines of the lantern and towards his hand. The flame now reached as high as his chest, thin and bright, sputtering when a small gust of wind brushed by. He paused for a moment then he pulled. The flame separated from the wick. It now existed solely because of Jungkook. It rose up and up until it formed a small sphere of light and warmth. An idea formed, tentative and gentle. A moment later, Jungkook clapped his hands together, crushing the flame, but instead of extinguishing, fireflies erupted from between his hands. He heard Hoseok squeak in surprise followed by a hushed, “Whoa,” from someone.

They didn’t have the green glow of actual fireflies, but they drifted over the wind like them. Ambers caught in a breeze, yet not quite. One bumped against Jungkook, right beside his eye. It didn’t hurt. It didn’t burn like an ember. Instead, it felt like a kiss. He smiled, watching as it drifted away. The others had ventured off the porch and walked among the amber bugs. Hoseok looked weary, hovering behind Yoongi who tried to capture one several times, transfixed like a cat with a mouse. Taehyung focused on the clusters, happily rushing through them, scattering them in his zeal. Jimin drifted through the center, his head tilted back, watching the few that rose up as they were framed against the dark sky. “Beautiful,” Jimin murmured under his breath. He dropped his gaze down to meet Jungkook’s. “Your magic is beautiful.”

His magic. . . was beautiful? The evidence was all around him. It existed in this little pocket of the world, creating a marvel just for his friends. He had created a dream, carved out of the gentlest memories and desires. The simple hope to see their eyes lighten because of him. It was all he ever wanted.

At first he thought an ember had fallen into his eye. He reached up to rub it out, but as soon as he touched his eye, he knew that wasn’t the case. “Thank you,” he replied, but his voice came out thick and weak. He didn’t want to close his eyes to what he had created, but the tears blurred everything. He gave up trying to resist them, falling down into a squat, dropping his head. He brushed at the tears, annoyed and suddenly Jimin was there, wiping them for him. His hands were cool against his hot face. It felt nice. It felt kind. “Thank you,” he repeated, choking on whatever obstructed his throat.

Jimin chuckled, his breath ruffling Jungkook’s hair. “Ah, Jungkook-ah, why are you crying?” he teased lightly and Jungkook didn’t reply because he knew Jimin knew why. Jimin chuckled again, ruffling his hair at the back of his head, his fingers combing the stray strands down. “Jungkookie,” he mumbled, his voice amused and gravely, but he didn’t say anything else. 

Jungkook closed his eyes and just breathed .

Chapter Text

The days bled by in strokes of mild winds, ruthless suns, twinkling nights and cheeky blossoms. In Changdeok, the days blurred, but if they were crawling or speeding by, Jungkook could not tell. All he knew was that his days began when Jimin arrived. 

At first, Jungkook would fling himself out of bed as soon as he sensed Jimin nearby. But as time went by, he became more lenient. He didn't know what day Jimin decided to make Jungkook breakfast, but he did remember Jimin wore a dark blue hanbok and his hair was laced with gold and honey as he bent down to place the tray before him. He didn't remember what day Jimin bested him in swords for the first time, but he remembered Jimin had tied a red ribbon on his wrist, for good luck he'd said, something given to him by Taehyung. The blossoms that hung heavily behind him had matched the blush of his cheeks. He didn't remember days, but he remembered useless things. He remembered the first time Jimin tied his hair back using the same red ribbon----was it the same day?----leaving a small little tail at the back. His bangs always escaped eventually, but Jimin didn’t remove the ribbon until their practice was over. He would tug once and it would unravel before he leaned over the basin and washed his face.

Yes, only useless things.

He didn’t know how many days passed by since that unit of measurement had become obsolete. Namjoon and Seokjin visited once in a while, but they never could stay long. Taehyung often took naps inside the house while he waited, or sometimes he’d simply leave Jimin here, having something more entertaining planned. Slowly, their silences filled with harmless chatter which eventually slipped into casual conversation. 

“Will you ever visit the Lees?” Jungkook asked one day. The sun was close to the horizon. Taehyung would return in a little bit to have dinner with them before taking Jimin home. Jimin and Jungkook were chopping vegtables, or at least they should have been, but both of them were feeling lazy and drained. His damp hair hung heavy against his nape and Jimin’s bangs still dripped every now and then.

Jimin looked up from his half-hearted patato peeling. He sat cross-legged across from Jungkook, bowl in his lap. He shook his wet hair from his eyes with a frown. “I don’t know,” he replied, though it was clear he had thought of this often. Jimin had told him a good deal at this point. Jungkook had yet to return the favor, but he was working himself up to it. “It all seems so complicated.”

“And this isn’t?” Jungkook asked and Jimin’s cheeks reddened as he looked back down to his potato. Jungkook hesitated then said, “I’m not angry anymore.”

Jimin didn’t look up, his knife scraping the skin slowly. “You should be.”

Maybe he should. He didn’t know. All he knew was that when he looked at Jimin, nothing but curiosity flooded his mind. He wanted to know everything. He wanted to know things that Taehyung didn’t even know. He readily absorbed whatever Jimin said before prompting for more with questions. Jimin didn’t mind talking about himself, seeming amused by Jungkook’s antics, though he never pointed it out. “You can’t tell me how to feel,” Jungkook replied in an attempt to appear resistant, but mainly to get Jimin to look back up.

Jimin sighed, but he couldn’t hide his grin well enough. Jungkook grinned back even if Jimin couldn’t see. Jimin nudged his shin without looking up. “Come on,” he murmured, pushing to his feet. Jungkook followed, pleased with his work. By the time Taehyung appeared, the stew was almost done. 

“Aw, how domestic,” Taehyung cooed.

“Huh, I thought you were exaggerating,” another voice said and Jungkook’s mouth instantly spread into a grin.

“Hobi-hyung, you’re back! I thought you said you were staying with Yoongi-hyung for a while?”

Hoseok’s brow shot up and he glanced at Tae who shrugged, having already slipped towards Jimin so he could be fed a cooked potato. “Jungkook-ah, I’ve been gone close to two months.”

His eyes widened. “You’re lying.”

 His two hyungs watched him before bursting into giggles. “Yah, where have you been this entire time? Summer is almost over. The lantern festival is not so far off. I can’t believe you would forget about that, not to mention you barely realized I was gone.” Hoseok placed a hand on his heart. “Maybe I should have stayed in Gyeongsan. Did you know. . .”

Jungkook was surprised at himself as well. The lantern festival . . . he used to count down the days, using pebbles from his garden to mark the days, taking one away as each day passed. How had so much time passed?

“What is the lantern festival?” Jimin asked and all eyes snapped to him.

“He’s kidding,” Hoseok said, eyes flitting between Tae and Jungkook. “Right?”

“Ah, Jiminie,” Tae said, rubbing Jimin’s shoulder. “You poor country bumpkin.”

“Oh, perfect!” Hoseok exclaimed, hands clapping together loudly, his eyes alight with vigor. “We can take you all out for the festival. Jungkook can take a break from captivity and Jimin can experience his first lantern festival.”

This sparked a lively discussion about what to wear, how and when they will come get Jungkook. Even after they had eaten and the three of them had left and Jungkook lay in his cot, eye open, he felt a warmth unfurling within his chest. The festival was weeks away, but he could already taste its splendor. It will be different this year.

He lived in a haze. One filled with swaths of golden sun, lazy bugs, groaning wood and Jimin. His world was made of chiffon, delicate and light. Which was why it tore so easily.

By now, Jungkook was always awake by the time he felt Jimin's presence bleed into his mind, though he remained in bed, content to listen to Jimin. He never heard his footsteps, but he always listened for the sound of the cabinets sliding, the wooden lid of the rice bin tipping off, the shuffle of dry rice as it filled the porcelain bowl. There was the slosh of water, the strike of the match and soft whisper of fire. He listened for the strike of a knife against wood, so sure and direct. It was a lullaby, but instead it lured him into the dream of the real world, away from sleep. Once Jimin was done, he would move the food to the dining room and Jungkook would slink into the room without a word.

Today, they had gotten a late start. Taehyung overslept and so Jungkook ended up making his own breakfast which tasted inhumane after eating Jimin’s cooking which wasn’t even that exceptional. He could have started without Jimin, but he had waited instead. Taehyung sent himself into self-exile by going into the woods with Garo to play fetch. Instead of bothering to start practice, Jimin helped Jungkook prepare lunch instead. “We can eat and practice,” he reasoned.

“Go call Taehyung-ah,” Jimin said, stacking the plates to bring into the dining room when he froze at the sound of a commotion outside. Jungkook jerked to a stop a second later, his eyes flying to the front of the house. The dishes clattered back onto the counter as Jimin’s eyes widened. 

“Go out the back,” Jungkook said.

“And do what?” Jimin exclaimed, but Jungkook just shook his head before dashing out of the kitchen, heart pounding.

“Abeoji!” he exclaimed, hurrying down the front steps which were long and narrow, winding down the small hill of rocks. He hurried to stop his abeoji in the middle of the bridge in a poorly thought out attempt to thwart his abeoji.

“Jungkook,” Abeoji replied, hands clasped behind him. His lips thinned. “Where are your shoes?”

Jungkook looked down. “I-I forgot them.”

His abeoji made a noncommentable sound then stepped forward, heading for the house.

Jungkook jerked into his path, startling both of them. “What are you doing here?” he blurted out. His mind had fallen to panic and it was the only question that appeared.

“Do I need a reason?”

“No, of course not, but I----just wasn’t expecting you.”

“Well I am here since I have gotten very little word of your activities here. The guards haven’t reported any incidents.” He watched Jungkook with a cool gaze. “Perhaps you asked to be isolated so you may slack off even more.”

“No, I have been practicing.”

An eyebrow was raised as a sardonic twist took his abeoji’s mouth. “Really? And how has that been?”

“Good.” Despite you not giving me a teacher. Despite you giving up on me.

“Perhaps you can show me then.” It wasn’t a question or even a command. It was a challenge.

Jungkook’s shoulders shrunk. “I . . . No, not yet.” He wasn’t sure himself why he said no.

Abeoji snorted, swiping his hand to smack his sleeve to the side, a dismissive gesture. “Well, will you invite me inside?” It was a mock. Aboeji did not need to be invited anywhere. Everything belonged to him.

Jungkook’s heart began to thump and he searched for Jimin even as he nodded. He couldn’t stop his abeoji from entering, but where was Jimin? The back of the house. But that wouldn’t be enough. He would have to run into the woods. But Abeoji was no simple guard. Auras did not so easily escape him. Coming as close as the front door would expose Jimin in the back. He walked as slow as he dared while frantically reaching for Jimin, hoping to convey something. 

Run, now.

Suddenly, his abeoji stopped and Jungkook froze. He caught sight of him peering into the house. Jungkook reached for Jimin again, but this time his presence was softer. Had he run? Had his message gone through? “I will get tea ready,” he mumbled.

“No need,” Abeoji said as they stepped inside. His gaze slid over the walls and the recently swept floor. But his gaze was too sharp. He was searching. Jungkook could feel Jimin receding, but he had no idea if his abeoji could. He gestured to the sitting room, but his abeoji didn’t move right away. His heart leapt into his throat as he watched Abeoji clearly glance towards the back of the house, but in the end, he stepped into the sitting room.

“How is Seolhyun?” he asked, darting his gaze to Abeoji’s face. He could feel Jimin, but he could no longer tell if that meant he was close or his consciousness was no longer capable of releasing its hold on him. Nothing in his abeoji’s expression told that he could feel anything. He caught the way the skin around Abeoji’s eyes loosened.

“Her affinity allows her to have a pleasant pregnancy it seems,” he replied, looking out of the window. “The priests say there is a high chance it will be a girl.” There was a small curl of pleasure. “A fine warrior.” His gaze snapped back to Jungkook, sharp and piercing. “Soon you will be a samchon. You will be someone she looks up to. Make sure what she sees from you is not something to be ashamed of.” His words cool and sharp slipped beneath Jungkook’s skin like a sliver of ice.

All Jungkook did was nod.

They ran. Taehyung’s grip on Jimin’s hand was numbing and his magic felt suffocating as it tried to snuff any thread of their aura from the world. They didn’t stop until they were safely inside Taehyung’s room. Taehyung released Jimin and doubled forward, sweat dotting his forehead.

“Did he sense us?” Jimin gasped, his heart pounding almost painfully in his chest. He remembered standing frozen in the back lawn, not knowing what to do. His knowledge about detecting aura only extended as far as beasts. He did not know how good humans, or Hyungwong to be exact, could detect auras. He couldn’t make a run for the southern end where the woods sat. The sitting rooms windows all faced that way. He didn’t move until he heard Jungkook’s voice, like a far off echo, a cry . . . run .

“By the time I got there, he was close enough to sense you, which was why I exposed my aura,” Taehyung replied, swiping his sleeve over his brow.

“Tae---” Jimin began, but Taehyung already had his shoulders in his hands, dark gaze pinning him in place.

“Don’t worry. I’ll handle it.” Taehyung said, cool and calm. “I’ll handle it,” he repeated. “I promise. Nothing will happen to you.”

Samchon called Taehyung to him later that day. Taehyung had always thought that Samchon didn’t even know about his affinity, since he doubted he knew about his existence, but it had been more of a wishful thinking. Taehyung wasn’t stupid and he knew Samchon wasn’t either.

Taehyung didn’t think he had ever been in a room alone with him, not that he had ever wanted to be.

His sitting room was gilded and emerald. He sat in wait at the head of the room, a famished dragon in a sea of magnolias coiled behind him. Taehyung entered and prostrated himself before Samchon before straightening and offering a sly smile. “I guess I got caught,” he said.

Samchon’s expression remained impassive. “You have lived here for almost your entire life, Taehyung.”

“So I’ve been told.” His tone was light and off-handed, his posture relaxed.

“And you have never shown much of an interest in befriending Jungkook before.”

“Yes because I believed he was a brat. I still think so.” 

“So why were you at Changdeok earlier today?” Hyungwon spoke in a cool, quiet tone, his lids lowered, expression blank. It was almost as if he didn’t really care what the answer was.

Taehyung smiled, ducking his head, scratching his neck. “Ah, I promised not to tell.” 

Hyungwon watched him for a beat before he raised his hands, tugging back at his sleeves. “Do you think you are invincible, Taehyung?” he asked. “That because I have let you be that you are untouchable?”

Taehyung’s smile wavered. His spine straightened a bit. “Uh. . . Eomma----”

“Would not like to hear of what you are doing either, would she? She has promised she would keep you separate from our world, has she not?”

For a second, Taehyung’s fingers began to curl, his magic running like a chill up his spine. “Aish, it was Seokjin-ssi, okay?” he sighed, exasperated. “He wanted me to drop off some noodles for Jungkook. He worries since Jungkook has to cook for himself, you know? I mean, you can go back to Changdeok and see for yourself. I only hid because Seokjin-ssi didn’t want anyone to know. He thinks you’ll be mad.” He shrugged. “But now you do so. . .”

Hyungwon let his impassive mask fall to allow a scoff to fall out. “Why he expected the son of a whore to keep his mouth shut,” he muttered, “I cannot fathom.” He rose to his feet. “You may leave.”

Taehyung rose to his feet, widening his eyes. “So I won’t be punished?”

“Why, do you desire punishment?” he asked.

He quickly bobbed his head up and down in quick bows. “No, Samchon-nim. Thank you for your mercy, Samchon-nim.”

Hyungwon shook his head and turned away.

Taehyung turned away and fled the meeting hall, making a show of his rushed steps. Outside he bumped into one of the guards. “Sorry, ajhussi,” he exclaimed, loud enough for Hyungwon to hear.

“Aish, I’m only thirty-five,” the guard growled and Taehyung shot him an endearingly embarrassed smile before shooting away. As soon as he was out of sight, he straightened his spine, his smile falling like a deadweight. He fixed his hanbok, adjusting the ties he had purposely ruined previously. A few minutes later, he stepped out of the servants’ door in Seokjin’s room. He didn’t flinch as his cousin let out an inhuman scream.

“Stop bursting into my room,” Seokjin cried, but only half-heartedly threw a rose at Taehyung in retribution. In fact, there was a flurry of petals strewn across the floor. “What, I’m waiting for someone.” He waved a hand as if it was of little consequence and said, “So what brings----”

“I told Samchon that you told me to bring food to Jungkook in Changdeok which is why he found me there. Bare the punishment for Jiminie and I will owe you.”

Seokjin raised a brow. “Maybe I should send him food,” he muttered then nodded. “Okay.”

“Good.” He stepped forward and plucked a watermelon slice from the tray by Seokjin. 

“Yah!”

Taehyung paused, raising a brow. 

“What happened?”

“Nothing too bad. Samchon came while Jimin and I were there.”

Seokjin’s eyes widened, but his shoulders slumped and he sat down. “How much longer are you thinking of keeping this up?”

He shook his head. “It is up to Jungkook and Jimin. We may not have been caught this time, but it will happen eventually. This will serve as a reminder.”

“You’re surprisingly apathetic sometimes.”

“Goodbye, hyung.” He wiggled his fingers in farewell, disappearing back through the door he had entered from. 

Jungkook’s sanctuary was invaded. Two girls and one boy. The two girls, Miri and Inhye, worked around the property during the day and left as the lanterns lit themselves. The boy, Beomgyu, on the other hand, remained at all times. His presence unsettled Jungkook the most. Beomgyu had been a disciple of the clan, a few years below Jungkook. He had had Abeoji’s favor a few years back according to Hoseok who before becoming solely Jungkook’s right-hand man, had trained the next generation. Something or another had happened and he had fallen out of favor. Now he was here. 

It didn’t take a great stretch of the mind to know why they were here.

Just like that Jungkook truly became cut off from the rest of the world.

Needless to say, Jimin and Taehyung stayed away from Changdeok. That didn’t stop Jungkook from waiting and hoping. He wouldn’t admit it to himself that he was, but the coil of nerves at the pit of his gut was ever present in the early mornings. But no one, but Beomgyu entered his room. It was until a few days later that Jungkook made contact with the outside world for the first time. It came in the form of a piece of paper. Except he didn’t realize it was one at first. It was a butterfly when it landed on his hand. He was seated briefly to catch his breath, having been training just moments before. He stared at it, watching the way it fluttered its wings, taking him a moment to realize what it was. He snatched it off his knuckles in a swift movement, glancing towards Miri who was drawing water from the well a few paces from him. He got to his feet and slipped inside. In the empty kitchen, he unfurled his hand to find the butterfly had been crushed. He unfolded it and found two words. 

Southern snow.

He burned the paper with a flick of his wrist and headed back outside. He caught Beomgyu’s eyes and said, “I am going for a run.” He was gone before he got a reply.

The southern wall was deep into the woods on the property. When they weren’t practicing in the back lawns, they used to venture into the southern part of Changdeok which was the furthest one could get from the guards. They had only seen the small cluster of white flowers once while they were in here, growing in the shade of the southern wall. Jimin had exclaimed, thinking it had been a pile of snow as nonsensical as that was. We rarely used to get snow, Jimin had said, pleased with the flowers despite the disappointment. Jungkook had moved to pick a bushel of them, but Jimin had cried out in horror. What is the point of picking them? Just look at them. Ears red and hot from the scolding, Jungkook settled down beside Jimin and had stared with him. Jimin apologized a minute later.

Jungkook arrived at the location to find it empty. He moved in a quick circle then looked at the wall. Was he invisible?

“Jimin-ah,” he whispered then glanced back through the woods.

“Up here,” a voice whispered against his ear and he spun around.

His head snapped up and his eyes popped. “Get down, you’ll get hurt,” were the first words out of his mouth, embarrassingly enough.

Jimin grinned down at him and lowered himself down into a crouch, resting his elbows on his splayed knees. He propped his cheek against a fist as he giggled. “Don’t worry, I never fall,” he replied. Jimin was currently perched more than eleven feet off the ground on the top of the stone wall, adorned in a full black hanbok that spilled over the lip of the wall, fluttering lightly in the same wind that tickled through his black-brown hair.

Jungkook managed to tear his eyes away to glance over his shoulder, but he already knew he was too far into the woods for Beomgyu to see him. He snapped his gaze back to Jimin and said, “Abeoji placed servants here.”

“We guessed as much,” Jimin replied, gaze flicking up briefly before falling back on Jungkook. His pink lips curled, eyes curving. “They even put a gate on the archway.”

Ah, yes, the good sized red gate that didn’t rise all the way to the top of the archway. It was harmless enough, but now Taehyung and Jimin could no longer fly under the archway, coming and going as they pleased. Jungkook frowned at the statement. “You can’t come back.” It was almost an accusation. If they had been more careful. . .

“I know.” Jimin’s smile dwindled. “This is a one-time occasion.”

Jungkook’s chest clenched, but he kept his mouth shut.

“Hyungwon-nim won’t stop Taehyung from visiting. According to him and Aeja-ssi, he doesn’t have any say over Taehyung. Something about an agreement with Aeja. Of course, he won’t be slipping in secretly anymore. Every time he comes, it will be seen.”

Jungkook’s stomach simply sunk further.

Silence fell between them as Jungkook dropped his gaze to the base of the wall. Just ruin it. You know you can. You’ll be free.

“Jungkook-ah.”

He looked up abruptly, unused to the term of endearment. At least from Jimin. It was said with a hint of hesitation, quiet and gentle.

“Take care of yourself, okay?”

What could he say? No? He nodded.

Jimin paused, his palm sliding over his knee. Jungkook realized that Jimin didn’t have anything else to say. He simply didn’t want to leave just yet. Jungkook opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, Jimin smiled. “Well, I will see you.”

“See you,” Jungkook replied faintly.

A look of worry murmured across Jimin’s brow and Jungkook hurriedly said, “We’ll see each other soon enough.” He forced a smile. “Now go, before Beomgyu finds us.”

Jimin smiled one last time before he tipped back off the wall. He didn’t hear Jimin land or his footsteps recede, but he felt his aura dwindle instead. He waited until he couldn’t feel it as crisply. Jimin’s aura didn’t entirely disappear, not anymore, not since that day. It helped to make him feel a little less alone.

Beomgyu looked up as he appeared coming down the path. “I’ll be practicing for the rest of the day, I ask not to be disturbed.” He felt a fire had started in his chest. He was done feeling sorry for himself.

Chapter Text

Jungkook sent Jimin a note one day. To say he was surprised would be an understatement, but his surprise was drowned by a gidy sense of wonder. Jungkook had formed the paper into a little glider. It was not as natural as Jimin’s butterfly, but it was late into the night so maybe it was okay. Jimin was more than pleased that Jungkook had even tried to master the spell when subtle magic wasn’t his strong suit. Jungkook preferred blunt, powerful spells since his magic seemed not to have the patience for carefully crafted tricks. He unfolded the glider and found a drawing instead of words. It was Changdeok, rendered in shockingly skilled accuracy. There were no words, but Jimin understood why Jungkook had sent it. The drawing itself, even the skill it was created with, wasn’t why he had sent it. It was the fact that he had sent it at all and the way he chose to do so. It was Jungkook’s way of saying he was practicing, that he was fine. It was the first thing he had been given that wasn’t from Tae. Jimin folded the drawing neatly before placing it between the pages of a book.

The next morning, Jimin and Tae were seated beneath the arcade’s roof, enjoying sliced melon as they overlooked the reconstructed Lotus Garden. The lotuses were gone, but Tae reassured him that they would grow again next year. Aeja had ordered the closing of the entryways that led to the main house, effectively cutting off Lotus House from the rest of the household. Jimin didn’t need to know much to know that this was a statement, one from Aeja to Hyungwon, why though he wasn’t entirely sure.

The closing of the gates was probably why they found Seokjin entering from within the Lotus House, followed by a servant who must have led him here. 

“Hyung,” Tae said then offered a melon. “As payback.”

Seokjin took the melon, folding his sleeve back so the juices wouldn’t stain. “Thanks to your eomma, I had to walk outside of my own home to get to yours,” Seokjin said.

“As it should be,” Tae replied, looking back to the garden.

“We are one family, Tae,” Seokjin sighed.

Jimin had noticed a slight shift in Tae ever since that day Jimin and he had been caught. After his talk with Hyungwon. It was hard to place it into words, but he thought that maybe Aeja had closed the doors because of it. Maybe to keep others out, but maybe also to keep Tae in. Tae bit his melon and without looking back said, “What are you doing here?”

“I’m a little hurt that no one bothered to tell me that we are planning to break Jungkook out for the lantern festival.”

Tae glanced back at him, blinking. He swallowed his bit. “Well that’s because we don’t have a plan.”

“Did you think that maybe there doesn’t need to be a plan?”

Tae raised his brow, but finally twisted his entire body to face his eldest cousin, crossing his legs.

“We can just ask Abeoji.”

Tae shucked his melon rind onto the large platter with a snort. “Okay.”
Seokjin rolled his eyes. “You and I both know there is no way you can spirit Jungkook away for an entire night and expect no one to notice.”

“Here was what I was thinking. We send Jiminie and I over the wall. We swap Jungkook for me and Jimin takes him over the wall while I stay behind and eat all his food.”

“I’m not going to make you miss the festival,” Jimin said.

Tae dropped onto his back, tucking an arm behind his head. “Not as if I have anything better to do.”

Jimin just frowned at his friend. They had already talked about this, but neither of them could come to a solid solution. He was beginning to give up hope.

“Well good thing for you, I already asked Abeoji and he said yes.”

Tae jumped to his feet, eyes wide. “What?”

Seokjin shrugged a shoulder, but it was obvious he was pleased with himself. “Sometimes the simplest approach is the correct one.”

Taehyung didn’t look relieved, his eyes narrowing. “Why would he say yes?”

“It’s one night and I said we would all join him at Changdeok.”

Tae seemed to think this over then suddenly he sprung to his feet. “Alright. I can work with this.”

Jimin didn’t feel as enthused. “Have you forgotten about Beomgyu? He can’t see me there.”

Seokjin waved an imperious hand. “He is still our disciple and our dongsaeng, he’ll have to listen to us for one night.”

“Okay, okay,” Tae muttered pacing back and forth over the wood then he clapped his hand. “Okay!”

The air was heavily perfumed tonight. He knew it was the scent used in the oils within the lantern, a rose oil, thick and sweet. The scent cajoled him and stirred distant memories of childhood. He lay back on the ground, arms crossed behind his head, watching the stars. Though he was quite wary of Beomgyu, he had managed to conjure a fragile friendship with Miri and Inhye, though Inhye was perhaps more shy than even him. Miri on the other hand was starry-eyed and her face blossomed every time she smiled. She was eager to divulge information to Jungkook even without his prompting. Apparently, the main house was not going to be participating in the lantern festival this year. Jungkook tried not to dwell on the why . Apparently, Lotus House was. They did every year, but Jungkook knew this only because he would see their own lanterns drift up into the night after his own. Though the servants of Lotus House rarely ever ventured out and when they did, they did not linger about people of the main house, Inhye had sharp eyes, reporting that she had seen a special shipment of silk used for the lanterns arrive a few days ago.

It was around the same time that a note from Jimin had appeared once more. It was a moth this time, taking into account that night had fallen. Jungkook pounced on it before it even came close to landing on him.

Paper or silk?

Jungkook’s face had erupted into a painful smile and he’d dropped down into a squat to hide his face in his knees. Just thinking back to that night made him restless and giddy.

“Jungkook-ssi?” a voice called out.

Jungkook rolled over to look over at Beomgyu who stood on the back porch. “Please come inside, dinner is ready.”

As Jungkook followed the younger inside, he found himself wondering again why Beomgyu was here. He knew why he was here, but why was he here. Perhaps it was the lightness from his anticipation that gave him the courage to be nosy. “Beomgyu, why are you assisting me?” Watching me was a better use of the words.

Beomgyu didn’t look back. “Because your abeoji ordered it so.”

“But why you?”

Beomgyu stopped and so did Jungkook. Their eyes met briefly before Beomgyu’s gaze fluttered away with a faint grin. “I am glad it is me. If in any way I may assist Hyungwon-nim, I will.”

It wasn’t a clear answer, but there was a bit of an answer, not in his words, but in his eyes and the crease of his smile. It was the look of someone who had disappointed another and wanted to do anything possible to erase that mistake. He recognized it because it haunted his expressions every time he glanced at himself in the mirror for years now. What mistake was Jungkook atoning for? Hurting Seokjin? Burning the garden? For being socially inept? For losing something he had never had the chance to acquire? For killing his mother? For being born? He didn’t know and he didn’t think he ever would.

Suddenly, he no longer resented Beomgyu’s presence and with a tentative voice, he asked, “Would you keep me company for dinner tonight?”

Beomgyu looked at him in shock, but slowly he nodded.

The lantern festival arrived. Miri and Inhye were released from service to go to the city and celebrate there with their families. Beomgyu wasn’t allowed to leave the property, just like Jungkook, so he told him he may retire for the night. Beomgyu knew that his hyungs were coming to visit him since Jungkook hadn’t tried to keep it a secret. “Don’t you need help serving?” Beomgyu asked, slightly unsettled. 

“We will be fine.”

Still Beomgyu hesitated.

“Fine, help me set out the soju and plates.” He deliberately set a place for five people. As they set the table, he chatted aimlessly about his hyungs, making sure to mention all five and what they like. Together he and Beomgyu prepared the dishes. Jungkook felt rather proud of himself.

The sun was an hour or so from setting by the time he heard his hyungs arrive. He hurried to the front porch, Beomgyu following after. His hyungs had brought everything they may need for creating their lanterns, arms wrapped around paint pots, boxes of paper, spools of thread and more.They chatted animatedly among themselves as they walked down the path towards him. It was Hoseok who screamed, “Jungkookie!” into the night, his voice echoing loudly, followed by amused cackles.

He felt Beomgyu shift to leave behind him and Jungkook turned quickly. “Why don’t you take some food with you?” He knew an offer to stay for dinner would be turned down. Eating with Jungkook just by himself was one thing, but everyone else? He knew that after this Beomgyu would return to the servants’ house several yards away from here, unable to enjoy this festival. He had to remind himself that it wasn’t his fault, but maybe if he hadn’t wanted to be selfish, he could have celebrated with Beomgyu instead. Beomgyu accepted the offer with a gracious incline of his head before disappearing, everyone’s gazes trailing after him. There was a moment of silence then Jungkook said, “Come in, everything is already set.”

Jimin was used to Taehyung’s magic by now, but what he didn’t like was when Taehyung tried to snuff out his aura. It was suffocating, leaving him feeling like a candle struggling to hold onto its fire. Struggling for air. So he gasped in a deep breath as soon as Taehyung swiped away his hold. Jimin was luckily seated already, swaying forward a bit.

There was a chorus of people chiding Tae for his handling of the situation, leading to Tae defending himself with a hurt expression, hand on his chest. Jimin raised his gaze and met Jungkook’s. He rolled his eyes and Jimin laughed.

They ate dinner like a pack of starved wolves descending on a catch, something Jimin had seen too many times. Conversation ebbed and flowed. Sometimes it rose to a crescendo as they fought over something trivial like who caused them to arrive late or which sauce the chicken tasted better in. Jungkook was currently arguing the case for a sweet sauce, his eyes lit with a passion as Namjoon supported him with punctuated Yahs, slapping the table every time he made a good point. Seokjin kept shaking his head even while Jungkook spoke and Taehyung kept interjecting looking genuinely upset by the development. Hoseok would periodically throw out a weak attempt to calm it down, but it seemed the soju had gotten to him and for long bouts of time he’d just sit there, red-faced, utterly not present. Jimin was liking his first tastes of soju and generally just laughed when one of them made a dumb point which was quite often. 

By the time Namjoon suggested they get up and start on their lanterns, Jimin was sweaty, full and aching from laughing. He remained draped on Tae’s lap where he had dropped himself in a fit of laughter a few minutes ago as the others got up to get the materials and clear away the table. “How do you make a lantern?” Jimin mumbled

Tae jerked his knee up in an attempt to shake Jimin off. “We’ll show you, now get up!”

Someone had thrown open every window in the room, allowing a warm breeze to filter through, rustling the sheets of white paper laid out on the table. It was hard to believe that summer was leaving when the air still felt so welcoming against the sweat on his neck. He raked a hand through his hair, absently tying the long strands back with his weary red ribbon. They all settled down once more to decorate the lanterns. Jimin had never touched a paintbrush before and was quite intrigued by it. He bent himself over his work, concentrating intently, tongue tucked between salty lips. He had just finished one flower and looked up, pleased with himself when he noticed everyone was already halfway done with theirs. He tried to quicken his pace after that, but he refused to allow crooked lines. By the time he finished his floral design that incorporated the character for happiness in the center, the others were either already heading outside to light their lanterns or finishing off the construction.

“Jimin-ssi, why are you taking so long?” Jungkook chided, but the wide smile betrayed his amusement easily. He slid across the floor until he was beside Jimin. “Let me help,” he said, sliding the paper in front of himself despite his own not being finished.

“Yah, Jungkook-ah, you want to help hyung as well?” Seokjin asked, his lantern tucked in his lap looking like a lopsided block.

Jungkook merely hummed, intent on creating clear creases on Jimin’s paper.

“The disrespect,” Seokjin muttered.

“I think it looks unique, hyung,” Tae replied, tinkering with his own red balloon, attaching a variety of streamers around the rim.

“I think it looks lame,” Hoseok said and Seokjin threw a wadded up used napkin at him which Hoseok jerked away from only for his knee to hit into the table, rattling it.

“Hyung,” Jungkook said, looking up, brow furrowed. “Stop shaking the table.”

Tae and Seokjin laughed as tears sprung to Hoseok’s eyes as he clutched his knee.

“Hurry up!” Namjoon called into the house. “I can see lanterns from the city already going up!”

Seokjin and Hoseok hurried out of the room, their bare feet slapping on the floor. Tae rushed to stick five more streamers to the edge of his lantern effectively turning it into a monstrous creature before rushing after the others.

“Let me help,” Jimin said, leaning forward. Their fingers knocked into each other and they both stuttered at the flare between them, but ultimately they ignored it, stuffing the pieces of soaked cotton into the center before following after the others. Namjoon already had his lit while Hoseok and Seokjin squatted by theirs, fumbling with a box of matches. Taehyung stood nearby, holding his up so the wind could play with the streamers, a sweet smile on his lips.

“Let me do it,” Jungkook said, rushing forward. There was a collective exclamation as Jungkook lit each one of their lanterns before returning to Jimin. “Hold it up, Jimin-ah.”

“No more hyung?” he asked even as he did as he was told, the lantern hovering between their foreheads as Jungkook snapped his finger.

Jungkook’s cheeks blushed, but he only returned with a cheeky smile before turning to his own lantern. He had written the character for “success.”

“What does that mean to you?” he asked quietly as they waited for the hot air to fill the interiors. 

Jungkook looked at his lantern, at the light that glowed within. The light flickered across his face, the shadows just as soft as the light. “I write it every year, sometimes with a little wish for my family to be healthy. I wrote it without thinking.” It was hard to think he did it without thinking. Coiled around the character was an intricate dragon among an abstract field of flowers. How does one carelessly create such beauty? He supposed it was something innate for Jungkook. It came to him as easily as breathing. “I don’t think I know what it means.”

Somewhere off to the side, there was a brief outcry as someone’s lantern was released too soon. “Sorry,” Namjoon cried.

Jungkook chuckled. “Well I hope happiness comes back to you,” he whispered right beside Jimin’s ear before he released his. Jimin’s followed, then quickly the others drifted up after Namjoon’s. Jimin craned his neck back, marveling at the way the lanterns drifted up like a train of stars, Namjoon’s leading the way, taking success and happiness in his wake, followed by the wishes and hopes of the others’.

Chapter Text

Jimin awoke to find himself on the floor.

His right shoulder ached as he rolled off of it and onto his back. He was half on a blanket and half on the hard floor. The ceiling was lower than the one in Lotus House with a different pattern that made up the beams. Newer and lighter.

He jerked up, only to immediately drop his head in his hands with a groan. He heard something shuffle to his left, silk against wood, then a groan. Jimin raised his head carefully to find everyone sprawled out on the floor around him. Jungkook lay behind him in his bed while the rest of them littered the floor, bottles of soju tucked against chests, limbs flung wide. The air stunk of sweat, soju and burnt wax. His eyes lingered on Jungkook, taking in the way the pale light outlined his hair. It had gotten longer, falling into Jungkook’s lashes more often than not. He tore his eyes away. “Tae,” Jimin croaked.

Tae was tucked beside Namjoon who was snoring loudly, an amber bottle hugged to his chest. Jimin tilted over Hoseok to reach Tae’s legs. He felt bile rise up his throat, but he swallowed it and tugged at Tae’s hanbok.

“Tae,” he groaned.

Tae snorted then opened his eyes. It took him a moment, but then he was sitting up, shredded paper falling on Namjoon as he did. Namjoon absently swatted at the paper. “Mmm?” Bits and pieces of silk thread and paper were sprinkled in Tae’s hair, furthering the appearance of a nest.

“It’s almost dawn,” Jimin said. The world had just begun to brighten, a soft silver-grey leaking from the horizon beyond the thick treetops.

Luckily, Tae wasn’t hungover so he took control once he got himself up. The others groaned as they were disturbed by their movement, but none of them bothered to get up, only shifting into a better position now that two bodies had been removed. Limbs stretched tight then dropped lifeless once more. Only Namjoon muttered something about water. They moved out of the room and towards a wooden basin. Tae splashed water on his face before doing the same to Jimin. Jimin yelped as he was hit with the freezing water. He smacked Tae, but barely had the energy to make it hurt.

“Bastard,” he muttered, rubbing his eye sockets in the vain hope that the pain would be pushed back.

“Drink,” Tae said, putting a glass before Jimin, then, “Eat.” It was a loaf of bread, but it was all Jimin wanted to swallow right then. “Ugh, you still have ink all over your hands,” Tae muttered, taking Jimin’s hand in his. He half-heartedly rubbed at his palm, but ended up covering his yawn instead. He dropped Jimin’s hand with indifference. “Let’s get back before the boy returns.”

Jimin wanted to say goodbye, but he didn’t want to wake everyone just so they could exchange a few words. Instead, he left a little present for Jungkook before moving to leave. He stopped when Namjoon pushed himself up into a sitting position. He blinked then shifted his gaze to Jimin. "Do you want water?" Jimin asked and Namjoon nodded. Jimin slipped back out and whispered down to Tae to give him a moment. Tae sighed, sitting down on the front steps. Jimin filled a cup of water before heading back to Namjoon.

"Thanks," Namjoon croaked then winced. He downed the cup in seconds. He sighed afterwards. "Don't you want to wake Jungkook?" he asked.

Jimin glanced at Jungkook then shook his head. "I left him a letter." When he would see him again, he didn't know, but for now this was fine.

Namjoon smiled, a little dimple appearing on his cheek, softening his features like butter. But before he could say anything, Tae burst into the room behind him, eyes wide. "We have to go. They're here."

“W-What?"

But Tae was already pulling him up and Namjoon was jumping to his feet. His feet caught on the silk sheets on the floor, but Tae's death grip on his arm refused to allow him to fall. They flew into the narrow hall as Namjoon cursed, right behind them. Footsteps pounded up the front steps. They hurried into the kitchen and towards the back door, but sharp voices had Tae pushing Jimin back inside.

"Hurry," Hoseok said, suddenly grabbing Tae and shoving them into the bedroom just as they heard Namjoon say, " What is the meaning of this?"

“We are here for the intruder,” a voice stated.

Jimin felt a chill race down his spine. Jungkook sprung out of bed, his hair wild, his eyes wide with a fear Jimin had never seen before. Seokjin rushed to his feet, a bottle rolling across the floor as he stumbled to the hall. “What intruder?” Namjoon's voice demanded. “It’s only family here.”

There was a brief pause then, “We have orders from Hyungwon-nim. All intruders are to be taken into custody.”

“He gave us permission,” Seokjin snapped.

Jimin felt Taehyung tense beside him. “I knew it,” Tae hissed. Anger hardened the lines of his friend’s face until he looked frightening.

“The wards were broken. An unauthorized person entered. We are under orders to check.” An outcry erupted outside, but Jimin didn’t make out the words as someone tugged his hanbok.

“Come on,” Hoseok snapped, waving his hand towards the window. Jimin didn’t know how smart it was to climb out of the window, but it wouldn’t be any worse than staying in here. Tae’s cold hand enclosed around his wrist and the gentle mist of his magic fell over them. Tae pressed down harder on his wrist as his magic laid itself heavier over his skull, pressing the pain further into him, no longer a comforting cool mist. Hoseok threw open the window and quickly ushered Jimin out first. There was only one floor, but the house was propped up on large boulders at the top of a small hill. They jumped regardless, landing with bare feet on the cold boulder, slipping only a little before leaping off the boulders onto the solid ground. 

Guards were here too. They had caught sight of Hoseok throwing open the window, but they hadn't seen anyone jump. Even if they realized it was too late. The wind pushed at their backs, propelling them forward. "The gates," Tae said. They were closed, but Jimin didn't stop. "Hold on," he whispered and he jumped. Tae's gasp was cut short as they were propelled up onto the wall. Tae tipped forward, but Jimin didn't stop him, letting them fall forward. The wind released them gently to the ground and Tae whispered a soft exclaimation of awe. In a moment they were running. Tae’s fear was present in the way his magic tried to smother Jimin, making it hard to breath, but they didn't stop, their hearts beating in unison. He swore he could feel their pulse in their joined hands. It was all he could hear.

Jungkook , he thought again and again and again and then they were at Lotus House just as dawn was breaking over the world. 

Jimin . A whisper against his ear as if he were there.

As soon as they were within the main courtyard, they collapsed, the stone tearing the delicate silk of Tae’s hanbok. Jimin dropped forward, palms pressed against the pale stone, sweat dripping from his brow. The world was quiet right then, but he knew it wouldn’t remain so. "Did they know it was us?"

"Of course. I suspect samchon always suspected," Tae hissed through clenched teeth, sucking in long harsh breaths.

In a few minutes, the guards would catch up and perhaps the guards at Lotus House could provide enough delay for Jimin to sneak out. He could take a horse, take a few pieces of Tae’s boundless jewelry, sell it for food and shelter on the way.

Jimin .

It seemed Tae was thinking the same thing. “Bar the doors,” he said to the guards and they immediately moved. Tae was peeling off the rings from his trembling fingers, shoving them into Jimin’s hands. “You can take my horse. He rides fast. He will take you out of the city before the guards can even saddle their horses. They won't bother once you're gone. I have never traveled before---”

“Neither have I.”

“But you can figure it out. You’re smart.”

“I didn’t get to say goodbye.”

“W-What?”

“Jungkook . . . His eyes---He was so scared." He was babbling, his pulse still pounding. "I didn’t say a word to him.”

“He’ll be fine once he knows you’re safe.” Tae was pulling at Jimin’s clothes to get him to his feet. “You can take the service road. They can’t block it if we have this gate blocked.”

The letter, was that all Jimin would get to say to Jimin? A dumb letter he wrote in a matter of seconds. Words that felt meaningless now.

“Tae---”

“Jimin, please---”

“Tae, I can’t leave.” The words fell from his lips, startling him as much as Tae.

Tae froze, his grip loosening. “What do you . . .”

The words came easily, unbidden. He couldn't stop them. “I never thought of it this way before, but I’ve always been running, Tae. It wasn’t my fault. Eomma never taught me any different. She let fear consume her life, but I grew up thinking she was the greatest person alive because she stood her own against the beasts, against Hyungwon. But it was all luck and a little bit of cleverness. She was afraid and it made her cold and scary. She did it for me, Tae, and I won’t resent her for that. It would have been so easy to run before, Tae. A part of me still wants to, but I just can’t . Not anymore.”

Tae watched him, his eyes wide, his breath falling heavy like Jimin’s. He was pale with fear. “Jimin. . .”

“I don’t want to run anymore, Tae. I don’t want to leave you. I don’t want to leave him." Tears pricked at his eyes. "I think it’ll kill me,” he whispered, small and broken.

Loud voices erupted behind them, beyond the gate. Hyungwon’s guards were demanding the door be open, but the Lotus guards answered to only two people. Tae’s eyes watched the door with horror, but Jimin refused to avert his gaze. He gripped his friend tightly. “Tae, tell them to open the gate.”

Tae was already shaking his head, refusing to look at him. “No, Jimin,” he whispered.

“Tae, please ,” he whispered. He dropped his head against the other’s, closing his eyes. The voices became a buzz. Even his heartbeat began to fade. Was he calming down? Or was his heart falling? “It is what I wish. Don’t deny it. Please. If you were my friend, you would do it.”

“Why are you being so cruel?” Tae demanded, his words trembling and breaking as his eyes finally fell back on Jimin. They swelled with tears that fell quickly.

“Why are you crying?” Jimin teased even though he heard the same thing in his voice.

Tae jerked his head away and for a moment, Jimin thought he would disregard what Jimin wanted and force him to leave.

A moment passed, then . . . “Open the gates!” Tae called, his deep voice booming, startling a few sleepy birds from their perch nearby. His body moved slowly as if something were dragging him down. “Open the gates!” He pulled Jimin up by the arms as the gates groaned loudly. The Lotus guards, dressed in a soft lavender, pushed the doors open, their eyes falling to Taehyung as they inclined their heads. The main guards stepped inside, glaring at the Lotus guards as they passed them by. “We will deal with you all later,” one of them snapped.

“They were following my orders,” Tae stated and they visibly hesitated at the cold look and tone.

Jimin slowly removed his hands from Tae’s hold and took a step forward. “I surrender,” he said. Even though it all felt like it was falling apart---the delicate balance he had kept with Jungkook, the safety he felt among the Kims----a weight came off his shoulders. He had been caught. He had acted foolishly, but what was done was done. Whatever happened next was out of his hands.

“I will see you later,” Jimin said and Tae could only nod before Jimin was taken.

It was strange just how different the world was now compared to the moments after he had opened his eyes. “What do you mean we are no longer allowed in Changdeok?” Namjoon demanded, his tone steel. 

“I apologize, my lord,” the guard said, his gaze shifting away. “But it is Lord Hyungwon’s orders.”

Namjoon tore his eyes away from the guard and to Jungkook who was staring at the distant wall, feeling for Jimin. He could feel him between the distance, his presence a balm against his skin. 

“Jimin,” he whispered.

“Jungko----”

“What are they going to do with him?” he demanded suddenly, his eyes snapping to the guards.

The guard’s expression wavered further. “We have orders only to make his arrest and clear out Changdeok.”

Jungkook began walking, heading out of the house. Guards stumbled out of his way in a rush. He ignored his hyungs calling out for him. He felt as though his world was tilting, but his eyes remained focused on the gate.

A hand closed around his upper arm and he had to fight down the instinct to lash out. 

“Jungkook, listen to me,” Namjoon hissed, his face set close. “Calm yourself. You don’t want to make a scene in front of Abeoji’s men.”

“I don’t care,” Jungkook snapped and this time he did snatch his arm away.

“I will handle it.”

There was a time when he would have instantly loosened at those words, assured because those words were a guarantee. But the heat inside him only swelled and he felt his stomach rebel against him. “Hyung, if anything---”

“Just trust me and calm down .” He roughly shook Jungkook’s arm and this time he could feel it.

His magic was burning beneath his skin. It was reacting to the distress he felt in Jimin and himself. He stared down at it, his breathing hard, his head pounding harder. It sung to him, telling him that he could use it, use it to help Jimin, to protect him. He realized with startling clarity that that was all he wanted. 

"Jungkook, please, for his sake." Namjoon glanced over his shoulder then back at Jungkook. His hands gripped his arm in a squeeze. “We have to go now,” Namjoon said after a moment of silence.

Why? Why was this happening? Why was Abeoji doing this? Why did----

“We’ll be back.” Namjoon glanced over his shoulder as his other hyungs came up behind him. Seokjin looked furious and that fury stilled Jungkook's heart. Namjoon's hands dropped and he stepped back. Namjoon was not an affectionate person, but through that last smile he knew his hyung meant it.

"I'll be back," Seokjin said, shooting the nearby guards a pointed look. There was something unfamiliar that lurked beneath his usually playful and gentle hyung's voice.

Hoseok-hyung smiled then his hyungs passed him by and he was alone. Or at least he believed he was. He looked up and his gaze caught on Beomgyu. He stood only a few paces away. Jungkook opened his mouth in an attempt to offer his usual greeting when he stopped.

“It was you,” he whispered.

Beomgyu’s lips pressed together and his gaze shifted away.

Of course. Beomgyu was the only one who had the access and the means.

“Why?”

“Hyungwon-nim said----”

“No, why did you wait until the morning to tell them the ward had been broken?” It all tasted so bitter and ugly. His words, the air, even the sky. When Beomgyu said nothing, Jungkook snapped. “Answer me! Did you think you were being kind? Did you think I would appreciate it if you let me enjoy one more night?”

“I thought. . . you always enjoyed the festival and maybe . . . I pitied you.”

Jungkook watched him. A breeze whispered by and it carried Jimin's sorrow with it. He felt it settle against his skin like a cloth. “Get out,” he whispered.

Namjoon was panicking, but he didn’t allow it to show. Just when everything felt like it was under control . . . But such was life. He couldn’t believe he had been constructing a poem for Seolhyun only a few minutes before. Now the same poem sat crumpled at the bottom of his pocket as he, Hoseok and Seokjin strode towards his abeoji’s quarters. “Perhaps . . . it would be better if it was just me,” he said without looking at his hyung. It was not that his hyung was prone to anger. He was more prone to truth when he was angry rather than cruelty. No, truth wouldn’t do well no matter how much Abeoji deserved it.

There was a beat of silence then Seokjin said, “Okay.” There was a dangerously even tone, but Namjoon chose to ignore it.

Namjoon knew his abeoji was awake. He woke at the same time every day. He would be going through his morning routine right now. Breakfast in his garden. He was granted entry right away, his abeoji’s voice the one giving it. He sat in the center of his pavilion, taking a slow sip of his tea. He watched him approach with keen eyes.

“What a surprise,” Abeoji said as Namjoon prostrated himself before him. “What brings my favorite child to my quarters so early in the morning?” There was perhaps a hint of mocking in the term, but Namjoon decided not to overthink it as he always did.

“Abeoji,” Namjoon said, raising his head. “It has come to my attention that you have taken someone of the Lotus House under custody.”

“Oh? I wasn’t aware that he was a member of Lotus House.”

“He isn’t . . . But he is a distinguished guest. You risk upsetting Aeja-ssi.”

A brow rose. “Do I fear Aeja-ssi suddenly?”

“No, Abeoji, you do not, but I am aware of your policy towards her. Her business is not to be meddled by anyone.”

“So you came here to tell me that I should mind my own business?”

Namjoon paused for a moment, but only a flicker of a moment. “No, I wouldn’t be so impertinent.”

“Ah, yes, you always have toed the line quite closely. So unlike your brothers. Perhaps you may not be insolent, but it seems you are rather invested in Lotus House’s business, contradicting what you just said.”

Namjoon suddenly wished his hyung was here. Seokjin had never had a problem speaking his mind. Hard truths always clumped against the walls of Namjoon’s throat, choking him, but Seokjin never had trouble. This attitude had earned him their abeoji’s ire countless times before. Namjoon had learned from his hyung’s “mistakes” and learned to say what others wanted to hear. Not for the first time, he was glad that Jungkook had learned from Seokjin as well.

“Tell me one thing, Abeoji. Why was he arrested?”

“That’s simple really. He broke into Changdeok, didn’t he? With Taehyung’s help no less. I had my suspicions that day, but I suppose just like everyone else, it’s easy to underestimate that boy. I believed that silver tongue of his, but I couldn't shake that hint of doubt.” He sighed. “I actually forgot that I even ordered Beomgyu to put wards on Changdeok after my talk with Taehyung. Your friend didn’t visit for the longest time after all.”

Until last night. . .

“Until last night.”

Wards. Why hadn’t they thought of that? Because it was one single ward, set for one single person. The person who had placed it, that being Beomgyu, was always in close proximity so it did not have to be strong. When it had broken, it may have simply released a breath across Changdeok, but it was Beomgyu who would have known what that breath meant. Choi. A familiar name

“Beomgyu is trained in a special art. It consists of the delicate weaving of wards. Not a specialty us Kims provide, but luckily his family is known for it. Just when I had believed the boy had lost his usefulness. It was very easy for him to make his magic appear seamless with the environment. Easily overlooked and all.” And who would be looking out for a ward in their own home? 

“He is a friend, Abeoji,” Namjoon said, but he knew it was lost.

“A very special friend. One that can bring Taehyung and Jungkook together. Someone all of you are willing to protect. It is all making quite a lot of sense now.”

Namjoon opened his mouth to respond, but he was cut off by an unlikely source.

“That’s enough,” Seokjin said, his voice sharp and firm. A tone Namjoon was sometimes envious of or grateful for, so like their abeoji. Namjoon watched as his abeoji reclined in his seat, his gaze narrowing. “Your games grow tiring, Abeoji. Tell us what you want.”

Chapter Text

A dream came to Jimin like a breeze. He was walking along a well traversed path through Sejun Forest. Snow blossoms that crawled against Changdeok’s southern wall lined the edges of it. That was how he knew it must be a dream. They did not exist in Sejun after all. Sunlight darted in and out from behind the leaves, but he felt cold.

Stay on the path , Eomma whispered.

A familiar tune drifted through the air. It was his eomma’s voice, humming the melody she used to recite every time they walked through the forest. They did not sing. Their voices were too sweet for the creatures of the forest to ignore usually. At least that was what she said. So they hummed. Jimin’s eyes strayed to the forest beyond the snow blossoms. The trunks seemed to race past him faster than he was walking, but he caught faces and structures, snatches of color he had never seen in Sejun before. A lantern, a fire, a day in the sun. A world was streaking by as he walked slowly down the path, a world he couldn’t touch. He narrowed his eyes at his destination, but all he could make out was sunlight.

Stay on the path .

Why?

He grew closer or perhaps his eyesight grew clearer, but now he could see the end. It was a meadow. He began to smile, but just then a large rock came into view. It was covered with moss, but he could still make out the words he had carved into it. His smile fell and his feet stopped.

A different voice danced around him, carried by the wind. The wind came from the forest, from that other world. Walk with me , it said.

Where?

Anywhere.

It was answer enough for him, allowing himself to be coaxed off the path. 

Jimin’s shoulder was numb. He could no longer feel the stone digging into his skin. His eyes were closed, but he listened intently as the wind died. The air in here was slow and cold. His headache had receded, but it still lingered. He wasn’t chained, but the metal door was locked. He was sure that even if he knew a spell to unlock the door, it wouldn’t work. He hummed to himself, the melody from a dream.

Jimin .

“Mm-mm?”

Maybe it was fingers ghosting over his cheek, maybe it was the wind.

Look at me.

His eyes flew open and for a moment, those eyes were before him, wide and dark. “Jungkook,” he gasped, but there was nothing.

“No, just me,” a voice said and Jimin jerked against the wall, dragging his legs towards himself. It was a boy. He was young, younger than Jimin with a small curling smile. Jimin was wary of him instantly. He glanced at the pair of guards who stood at the entrance chatting lazily between themselves. “I brought you water,” he said, sliding the clay cup towards him through the bars. Jimin watched the cup then the boy before venturing forward. Once he was done, he held the cup back to him. The boy cocked his head to the side without taking the cup. “I heard you snuck in to kill Third Young Master Kim.”

Jimin stared at the boy, lowering his arm.

“It wouldn’t be the first time someone tried to kill one of the brothers.”

“Why would I want to kill him?”

He shrugged. “Anything to weaken the clan.Mostly, they focus on First Young Master, or Second. Even his own brother tried to kill him.”

Jimin scowled at him. “It was an accident.”

“I know, but it doesn't change the fact.” 

The boy continued to regard him and eventually Jimin snapped, “Aren’t you too young to be a guard?”

“I’m a disciple,” he grinned, gesturing a hand to his garb. He was right. It was the white and maroon of a Kim disciple. Jimin had seen it too infrequently to realize right away. “They just asked me to give you water.” With that he got to his feet and before he could offer the cup back, the boy was bowing to the guards who ignored him entirely before he was gone.

Jimin dropped his hand and looked down at the cup. As he got to his feet, his fingers brushed over the bottom of it. Unexpectedly, his fingers brushed paper. He froze then turned his back to the entryway and the guards before turning the cup over. A note was pasted to the bottom. He opened it quickly and read.

He knows. If you wish to leave, give your answer.

A chill went down his spine. Jimin did not know who the note was from, but he trusted it as soon as he read it. He had thought this may be the case, but what did they mean by the second half. To whom was he to give the answer? He shook his head and shoved the note under his pallet.

Hyungwon came by midday, smelling like jasmine and smoke, hands clasped behind him. Jimin watched him approach. He was alone. The midday light spilled through the ground level windows across from Jimin, effectively casting soft shadows across Hyungwon’s face. Silence prevailed for a long time until Jimin finally got to his feet.

“Park Jimin I presume?” Hyungwon said, voice low.

Jimin forced his heart to be still.

Hyungwon raised a brow when he didn’t answer, but he didn’t look bothered. “I must admit, you have quite the courage to try to live right under my nose. Stupidity perhaps, but I will give you the benefit of the doubt even if your actions since arriving here beg differently.” He spoke lightly as if Jimin’s presence was something short of consequential. “Tell me, how is your eomma?”

Silence.

Then . . . “She’s dead.”

Something Jimin could only describe as amusement came across the man’s face and he felt his gut tighten. “I must be honest, Jimin-ssi, I didn’t actually think this day would come. I had assumed you two had died in a ditch somewhere. Your eomma did have strange tendencies after all. I am surprised she didn’t kill you just to keep you from me.”

A cold rush sped down his spine.

Hyungwon’s eyes widened and his laughter echoed in the stone hall. “So she did?”

“No.” It came out sharp and low. “Eomma would never hurt me.”

Hyungwon watched him a moment then he spoke. “You’re more interesting than I expected you to be. Still loyal to a dead woman who brought you to this predicament.”

Jimin glared up at him through his hair. “As far as I’m concerned, you are the one who brought us here.”

“You truly believe anything, don’t you? I cannot fault you of course. You grew up with that woman.”

Jimin felt his nails bite into his palms. “She was my eomma.”

“She was also the woman who took you from your soulmate. She took the choice from you.”

“She gave me a choice and I made it. It is you who is standing in my way.”

“Oh? So she gave you a choice when? After she had died? After she had made it as difficult as she could for you to return? After she took you from a life you never had the chance to experience for yourself? After she had poisoned your mind in every way possible?”

He felt his jaw tighten. “She didn’t. She saved me.”

“She saved no one!” 

The change was instant. It was as if his eyes cracked open and anger flooded out.

Suddenly, Jimin was on his knees, pain erupting in his calves. He gasped, body bending forward to grasp the bars. The pressure was gone a moment later, but pain laced across his nerves like phantom touches. Jimin crumpled back on his legs. “This is why your wife told Eomma to run as soon as she saw Jungkook’s Mark,” he hissed.

There was a moment of silence. “Chanri turned Eunah against me. She hated me for being unable to save Eunah from my abeoji. Chanri made Eunah angry and paranoid. She corrupted her. . . Did your eomma ever tell you how Eunah died?”

“Childbirth,” Jimin whispered.

Hyungwon snorted, but there was a sharp bitterness in the action. “Yes, she did die on the night of Jungkook’s birth, but it was not of natural causes.”

Jimin stared at the man for a long time, not sure what he was looking for. An indication that he was lying. All he found was a brief flicker of something twisted in his eyes before his jaw tightened and he turned away from Jimin.

“What do you want from me?!” he exclaimed, scrambling to his feet and towards the bars. “Tell me!” 

But he got no answer.

It was on an overcast day when Jungkook sent word to his abeoji that he wished to meet. The air smelled of smoke and damp earth. He couldn’t recall when he had fallen asleep, but it had been to the lull of a song. He recognized it in the way one recognized a dream. It had been Jimin’s voice, he was sure, but he hadn’t raised his head to look because he knew he wasn’t  there. Jimin was far, but near. If he reached out a hand, he could touch him . . .

Abeoji arrived alone and with little patience in his eyes.

Before Abeoji could say anything, Jungkook said, “I wish to leave.”

He just stared at Jungkook.

“I will show you what I have learned and at the end, you will deem if I am ready to leave.”

“Where has this courage come from? Has your little friend taught it to you?”

He tensed at the mention of Jimin and had to bite back the instinct to ask what had happened to him. He was alive and fine. His abeoji wouldn’t hurt him. That was all he needed to know. “Please, Abeoji.”

He watched him for a long moment and Jungkook watched him back for what felt like the first time. He could see the creases on his brow that he was sure hadn’t been there before. The signs of cracks near the eyes. His mouth was as unsmiling as ever, but there was something tired about it. “No,” he said, just as a distant rumble of thunder rolled across the sky. “You would like me to believe that you have had a sudden mastery over your abilities?” 

“I have been practicing.”

Abeoji took a step forward. “You are doing this so you may be reunited with him. I am not going to indulge your childish desires by putting everyone else, as well as our name, in danger.”

“So I am meant to spend the rest of my life here?” he hissed. His tone shocked him. He tasted an apology on his lips, but he swallowed it instead. 

His abeoji watched him closely, nothing slipping through onto his face. “If you must.”

First, disbelief. It washed down his back, leaving him numb for a moment. Then his abeoji was turning, so ready to dismiss the conversation that Jungkook felt the familiar heat flare up through him. This time he didn’t fight it. He didn’t let it unfurl without direction.

The direction was directly towards his abeoji.

He hadn’t been expecting it so he didn’t turn in time. It didn’t matter. The flames never touched him. Twin lengths of fire shot towards his abeoji and spiraled around his figure, fluttering around his silks and up past his head where they roared as they collided and erupted into sharp brilliance. Remnants of his magic fell like snow, a pure buttery white. His abeoji turned slowly, his gaze trailing after the falling ash-like lights. The expression on his face was like nothing Jungkook had ever seen before. He almost felt the iron in his core drop away as he felt the urge to reach out.

“See?” he said, his voice rising, though desperation tinted his words. He was desperate. And tired. Tired of being scared. Tired of everything. “Can’t you see, abeoji? All my life I thought my magic was my enemy, that it was evil, but it was a part of me, a part you and everyone else has taught me to repress, to control. But I don’t need to control it. I can let it be a part of me and he--- Jimin has taught me how to let it. He understood my magic better than I ever did, better than anyone. He helped me, abeoji. He is not the enemy here.”

The powdery light fell into his abeoji’s hair as he stared back at his son. Jungkook almost believed he was dreaming. He must have been. It was as if the remnants of his magic dissolved into his abeoji’s skin, softening it. It was as if he were seeing his abeoji alive for the first time. He was alive. The mirage was so enchanting, Jungkook dared to step towards it. But it shattered with a simple sharp snap of his arm. Jungkook didn’t even register the pain. He only tasted the blood.

“I will not have you speaking out against me again,” Abeoji hissed, but he did not step closer. “I do not want to hear you utter his name again or I swear I will make you regret it.” He made a move to leave, but he paused. “And raising your hand against me wasn’t exactly the most wise move either. All you have proved today is that you are a child. Nothing more.”

The boy from before returned later. Night had fallen and the guards had changed by the time he entered the hall with a low bow for the guards. He was dressed just as before. He smiled when he saw that Jimin was waiting for him, legs crossed beneath him. He had a whole meal for him this time. He crouched, but didn’t move to put the platter down. Jimin hesitated then moved to seat himself closer. The boy smiled, pleased and lowered the platter to the ground so it may pass under the gate.

“I’m not running,” Jimin said.

The boy nodded, but took a seat outside of the cell, folding his legs. “I’m making sure you don’t do anything funny.”

Jimin picked up a piece of bread and asked, “I thought I recognized you.” He glanced at the guards then back at the boy. “I suppose I saw you around.”

The boy nodded again and added, “My name is Yeonjun and I’ve seen you around too.”

“With Taehyung?”

Again, he nodded. So he’s from Lotus House. The thought of Aeja and Taehyung helping him even now made his throat tighten. He looked at the boy again and imagined him in the soft lavender of Lotus House. Now he recalled where exactly he had seen him. He was one of Aeja’s many favored attendants. He usually wore his hair open, a blue tint that could only be seen in the sunlight and adorned in much finer robes that weren’t always lavender. Instead, his hair was tightly constricted into a topknot to match his uniform. He had only ever seen him in passing as Aeja swept by them. Taehyung had mentioned his name several times, stating that if they were going to get into any mischief, it was that Choi they would have to avoid. Jimin had always imagined a scary older man, but Yeonjun was the exact opposite. “What is going to happen to me?”

Yeonjun glanced at the guards once more, but they never glanced inside, too busy chatting amongst themselves. Still, he lowered his voice as he said, “Nothing. Now eat.”

Jimin wanted to argue, but he knew here and now was neither the time nor place. So he ate.

“There is unrest within the estate,” Yeonjun said, not leaning forward to speak, but keeping his voice pitched low. His facial expressions remained light and neutral as if he were speaking of something as boring as the weather. “First Young Master has spoken out against Lord Hyungwon. It was private, but he did not restrain his tongue after he had left the room.”

“Why would he do that?”

“Second Young Master has remained silent and of course, Third Young Master is still in isolation. Lotus House has been closed to the outside world. There are whispers of factions forming.”

“What do you mean?”

“First Young Master may not be the military force Lord Hyungwon has in Second Brother, but he has not wasted the years he has been set aside.” That was all Yeonjun would say. Instead, he waved a hand, meaning Jimin should eat.

“What’s all this?” one of the guards demanded, leaning against the entryway. “Having a gossip session, are we?”

“No, sir. I’m sorry, sir. I was told to make sure he does not try to harm himself, sir.”

The guard looked between the two then scoffed, shaking his head. “Where did this kid even come from? Trying to assassinate people. . .Young people have no sense of morals these days.”

“Yeah, well, it’s those old demons that are really pulling the strings. Think it was the Chois?”

They began whispering indistinctly and Yeonjun looked back to Jimin with an indifferent expression. Jimin wondered if there was animosity between the Chois and the Kims and if that was why Aeja hired Yeonjun. It seemed like something she might do.

Jimin finished his food quickly and Yeonjun took the tray. He didn’t bow or acknowledge him before he left which was for the best. Jimin closed his eyes and leaned his head back, wishing the dreams would return and tell him what waited for him beyond the border.

Chapter Text

Home had ceased to be home. It had become an ominous sky, tense and dark, a harbinger of ill things to come. Such a feeling had never evaded the halls of Lotus House, or his eomma before, but the times were different now. Just as Eomma had closed the gates of Lotus House for the first in its history for a reason other than mourning, she closed herself off from the rest of the world. All guests that previously were residing had been turned out without notice, nothing but a sincere apology and fresh sweets to send them on their way. Whenever Taehyung found himself in the same room as his eomma, his gaze strayed to her, but her face had become stone. He was aware that his eomma had at some point come to terms with her feelings towards Hyungwon, in her own way, the only way that allowed her to continue living in this place and provide the life she wished for Taehyung. But something had broken inside her at the news of Jimin’s arrest and she had fallen inside herself and it frightened Taehyung.

Fear was only one of many emotions warring inside him, and with every last one of his confidants out of reach, he turned to someone else. The grave was located in the outskirts of the city in the clearing that Taehyung had wandered into all those years ago. It was his home away from home, much like his soulmate’s. It had turned out to be their last. They hadn’t been allowed to be buried on the Kim grounds since they were not a Kim. So they lay here instead, among the lazy cicadas and the golden wildflowers

Taehyung lowered himself down before the grave, crossing his legs before him. “Hello. Sorry I haven’t come in awhile.” He bowed deeply, a joke and a sincerity.

“ You have other things on your mind .”

“Still . . .” He watched gentle hands weave small yellow flowers into a crown and felt calmer for a moment. “Eomma won’t forgive me if I kill him. Because I’ll fail and then she’ll be all alone, but I feel I have no choice. Isn’t it better to have tried and end up beside you?”

“ You always have a choice. No one will ever take that from you . Don’t think a killer is all that life wants from you .”

“What does it want from me?”

A laugh, soft and sweet. “ I don’t know, but you have too much of it left to risk it like this. Think of them, your family, your friend. ”

He wanted to say so much. He could talk and talk, but he never felt as though he said anything. The truest things are the hardest things to say because they become alive once spoken. I can’t remember you as well anymore and it scares me , he wanted to say, but didn’t. It was no longer easy to speak to the dead more than the living.

“You remind me of him,” he said eventually. “I can’t say why, but there’s something there. . . I see you in all of them. Little fragments of you . . . like stars.” He smiled, tilting his head down. “And it’s beautiful.”

“ Then remember me through them and honor them by living. ”

It was a good while later when Taehyung finally got to his feet, no words left other than, "Goodbye, Chani."

It was when he arrived back home that he knew for sure that his soulmate was still looking down on him. "Young Master, it seems you have a visitor."

“You could at least entertain me long enough for me to think I’m winning,” Seokjin muttered. Pouting was unbecoming of someone of his status, but he didn’t care. His paper fan snapped through the air, languid and slow, a meager resistance to the heat. 

“I don’t feel like concerning myself with your fragile ego,” Hyejin said breezily, but the pleased smile on her painted lips told him she was thoroughly enjoying her time. 

“You have no love for me, Hyejin-ah,” Seokjin replied, dropping his chin in his palm.

Hyejin sighed. “If you miss your brothers so much, you should have thought twice when you decided to publicly announce your stance. Now you’re living in an inn and dwindling your days away by losing at card games with me.”

“The inn is the best in the city, I get free meals and the company is unparalleled, especially when it’s such a rare occurrence.”

Hyejin rolled her eyes, picking up her small ceramic cup in an attempt to hide her amused smirk. They were both enjoying chilled drinks of tea with a few drops of soju mixed in. “Few” was as relative “drops.” “Perhaps I simply didn’t want you to feel lonely?” Before Seokjin could reply, they were interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Aish, I swear if it’s that kid again,” Seokjin mumbled, dropping his head onto the table. 

“Come in,” Hyejin called brightly.

“Young Master,” a voice chirped and Seokjin groaned, but looked up. Though Seokjin may have left his family’s residency, he had not left without taking a few things, one of them being his favored servants. Though Huening Kai may not be one of them, he couldn’t bring himself to leave the kid behind. He could have been turned out onto the streets, or worse yet, sent to work in the laundry. Seokjin cursed his soft-heart as soon as he realized that the boy would have benefited from doing honest work. The starry-eyed boy was too unreliable as an attendant. Send him on a task and Seokjin would find him chatting with the maid in the stairwell an hour later.

“Yes?” he replied, rubbing his temple. Maybe he should stop drinking his "tea" for a bit.

“Hoseok-ssi is here to see you. I heard him trying to gain admittance in the front, but since you told the staff to keep silent about your occupancy, they kept trying to turn him away.”

Seokjin raised his head. “Why is he so adamant that I’m here?”

“It’s the most expensive inn in the city and it is known for its cuisine,” Hyejin said, taking a sip. Then to Kai, she said, “Let him in.”

“You order my servants about like you’re the lady of the estate." His complaint was weak even to him.

She smirked. “Aren’t I?”

Kai snorted at Seokjin’s pink ears. “What are you still doing here?” Seokjin snapped and the boy hurried from the room, smothering his laugh in his palm. Seokjin was tempted to throw a pillow after the boy, but refrained considering his company currently

“Well,” Hyejin said, getting to her feet, the single pearl clip in her hair clink ing as she moved. He watched it swing in her pitch hair. “Since you’ve lost again and I think I’ve drank a little more than is socially acceptable at this hour, I will retire for the day. Enjoy your talk, my lord.” With a soft smile, she added, “And do not worry, all will be well.” Then she was gone, her soft perfume lingering in her wake, always gone too soon.

When Kai hurried back into the room, he found Seokjin still staring at the cards left behind and the lip stain on the cup opposite him. “Young Master?”

“Yes?”

“Hoseok-ssi is here.” Then after a moment, Kai shuffled over, kneeling down beside him. Seokjin didn’t tell him to leave and he felt the other relax at that.

Hoseok sat down opposite Seokjin and finally the ghost of his previous companion was banished for the moment, overtaken by the bright glow of his new one. “Hyung-nim,” Hoseok said. “Are you alright?”

Seokjin raised his eyes to meet Hoseok and for a moment, he entertained the idea of saying something, but in the end, the feeling was swept aside as easily as Hyejin’s perfume had been expelled by Hoseok’s mere presence. So he let a paper smile take his lips instead. “Of course I am. Do you bring word from home?”

Jungkook found Jimin’s letter a few days after he had been taken. It was shoved in a crevice beneath a mat. He pulled it out to find it was a red crane. He sat there for a moment, running his fingers over the bent wings to straighten them before he carefully unraveled it. Jimin hadn’t used any magic on it, so there wasn’t the usual tingle of familiarity. He found two words scrawled inside.

He took a deep breath, a small attempt to banish the pain in his eyes before quickly folding the crane once more and sliding it into the folds of his hanbok.

“This is depressing.”

Jungkook’s gaze shot up and widened at the sight of Yoongi. “Hyung!” he exclaimed, too dumbfounded to get up. “What happened to you?”

“I got excommunicated from my clan,” he said, throwing his sword onto Jungkook’s bed, before heading out of the room. “I’m thirsty. Do you have any soju lying around? I didn’t get to take any money with me so I can’t buy my own.”

Jungkook scrambled to his feet, rushing after him. “Hyung! Tell me you didn’t kill her!”

“I didn’t.”

He began to breath out a sigh of relief.

“I mean, I tried, but she’s rather agile for a corpse.”

“Hyung!”

Yoongi blinked at him then went back to rifling through the cabinets. The wound that ran vertically over his right eye was still an agitated red, but the white scar tissue had already begun to fill in everything. He knew right away that that wasn’t the only wound that his hyung was sporting. His friend looked much too thin and pale for his liking, almost like a stray cat who had mistakenly wandered in all disgruntled and dirty. “Aish, kid, you need to stop being so dramatic. She can only live for so long. I'm her only heir. She'll hand over the clan to her other grandkids if she wants the Min clan to fall. In the meantime, I am going to lie low here.”

“How’d you get in?”

“I told them who I was and that if they didn’t let me in, I’d turn into a demon hound and bite their heads off.” He slammed the cabinet shut. “Jungkook-ah, where the hell is your soju!?”

“There isn’t any. Hyung, they’re just going to tell Abeoji.”

“Let them. I stopped by Hobi on the way here and he told me all about the stupidity all of you have been up to since I’ve been gone. Now Jimin is in prison, Jin-hyung has rebelled against his abeoji and Namjoon has disappeared out of the public eye and won’t see anyone and you’re sitting here, crying over crumpled cranes.”

He shuffled from one foot to the other, scratching his neck. “You’re the one scavenging someone else’s kitchen for soju looking like a homeless man.”

Yoongi’s sigh was long and heavy, his shoulders dropping. “What have we come to?”

Jungkook sighed as well and padded over to the edge of the straw mat. He folded it back and pushed open the pantry’s door. Yoongi released a chuckle, rubbing Jungkook’s shoulder in approval as Jungkook pulled out a few bottles of soju.

They took the bottles and got comfortable on the top steps of the house, sitting in wait for whoever came through those doors next. Whoever they were, they would deal with them together. Yoongi held out his bottle and Jungkook knocked his own against it. They took a sip and Yoongi sighed.

Jungkook scratched the back of his ear. “Hyung, by any chance . . . did you mortally wound her?” he asked.

Yoongi took a deep swallow of his soju with a satisfied sigh. “In due time, Jungkookie. In due time.”

Jimin woke with a start at the sound of metal clanging. He raised his head just in time to see the guards close the door of the cell next to his. There were only three cells and Jimin currently occupied the center one. The person in the cell beside him had dropped down onto his bottom, dressed in a ragged hanbok that looked like it had once been rather fine. He had a straw hat dangling from his neck that looked just as well off as the rest of him. It took Jimin a moment to recognize him and it was only after he shifted onto his hip to look at Jimin.

"Yoongi-ssi?" Jimin could hardly believe it. The young lord with his tight topknot and immaculate robes was nothing like the disheveled figure before him. His topknot was gone, looking as though it had been severed by a blade, allowing his inky hair to fall down against his ears in jagged clumps.He almost looked feral.

"Hello." He rubbed his neck with his palm. "How've you been?"

"How have you been?"

The young man let out a wry chuckle and Jimin caught sight of the new scar cutting over his right eye. "I," he shifted so he was fully facing Jimin. "Have seen better days."

"What are you doing here?"

His grin was equal parts wicked and sly. "I'm here to save you."

"Hey! No talking!" one of the guards snapped. They were too far off to hear what they said, but their whispers no doubt hissed down the hall towards them.

"Is that a rule?" the other asked.

The first one shrugged.

"Fucking pain in the ass," Yoongi muttered loudly.

"Hey, you---"

The second guard caught the other's arm. "Do you know who he is? Just let it go."

They continued to bicker amongst themselves and Yoongi turned his attention back to Jimin. "I figured that if I didn't do anything, nobody would."

Jimin regarded the young man for a moment. "You're either a genius or a madman."

Yoongi just chuckled. “Just trust your hyung.”

Jimin eyed him skeptically. “Are you sure?”

“I’ve lived longer. Trust me.”

Jimin narrowed his eyes. “Are you drunk?”

“No!” Yoongi shuffled, moving his shoulder back a bit. “Mmm, well maybe, but regardless, I have it under control.”

“We’re doomed,” Jimin mumbled, shifting over the floor to move away from the other.

“Ya! I am the fucking Hound of the East, I’ll have you know.”

Jimin glanced over his shoulder. “Funny, you remind me of a cat.”

Yoongi slipped an arm through the bars. “Come closer and I’ll show you why they call me that.”

Jimin scooted further away, bringing his legs towards his chest and wrapping his arms around them. He couldn’t help adding, “Jungkook won’t like it if you hurt me.”

Yoongi released a long-suffering sigh, slumping his entire body against the bars. “You two are insufferable.”

“Did you talk to him? Before you were captured?”

“I allowed myself to be taken and, yes, I did, but I won’t tell you anything else because you’re annoying.”

Jimin shifted back towards the bars. “Is he alright?”

“He’ll survive.” Yoongi tilted his head back to look at Jimin through the bars and he could have sworn they glinted like gold. “I’m not sure about anyone else when I get out of here.”

Jimin eyed the small man beside him. “Okay, I will trust you.”

He flashed Jimin a grin, sharp and bright. “Then that is all you need to do.”

Chapter Text

One morning, Jimin woke to find Yoongi in a pool of his own blood.

“Help!” he screamed, his hands flying to the bars. “Someone please help!”

“You have to make it convincing.”

“I know. I will.”

The guards rushed into the hall, but stilled when they saw the prone body. Their eyes were wide as they darted to Jimin. “ Please ,” Jimin cried, his bones grating against the metal, his knuckles white. “He’s going to die!”

“If it doesn’t work, you and I are done for, but the others, Namjoon will protect and help.”

“...Then there is nothing left to lose.”

“What happened to him?” one of the guards yelled.

“He was injured when he was brought in here. He tried to---a-and----Will you do something?!”

The round faced guard smacked his companion on the arm. “Open the damn thing. We can’t have him die before Lady Min arrives.”

“The cells won’t open unless one of the guard’s presses their palm against the metal pad on the doors through their own violation.”

The second guard jerked forward and slapped his palm against the metal pad set in the center of the cell’s door. It glowed a soft purple before it cracked open and the pair rushed inside.

“How will you do it?”

Yoongi threw him a wicked grin. “You’ll see.”

The guard leaned down. Yoongi’s arm moved in a blur, his claws tearing through the man’s throat. Before the first man had even fallen, Yoongi was on his feet, his arm wrapped around the second guard’s throat, forearm pressing into his windpipe. The man’s eyes went wide and he began squirming. He stilled immediately when he felt Yoongi’s claws press firmly into his gut. “Be a good man and unlock my friend,” Yoongi whispered into his ear, his eyes flecked in gold. “And I will think of letting you live if you do.”

Changdeok greeted the pale light of dawn with silence. The guards stationed at the gates were awake, but they could feel their eyelids growing heavy. One of them jerked, smacking his own neck with a vengeance. “Fucking bugs,” he muttered, smearing the blood on his thigh. His companion merely glanced at him. His mind was more on the thought of his bed than anything around him. The serenity of the dawn was broken by a sudden cry.

“Get him!” a voice cried. “He’s leaping over the wall!”

Both guards startled and darted their gazes down the length of the wall. The voice had more than likely come from the guards stationed around the corner to prevent the young master from doing just that. One of them was about to run off towards the commotion, but the other grabbed his arm. “It could be the trickster Kim,” he said.

“He can manipulate voices?” the other asked, wide-eyed.

The first guard looked frustrated then confused. “I don’t know. No one really knows. But it could still be a trick!”

The second guard felt stupid for almost falling for something so obvious.

“Let’s check inside. He’s up to something no doubt.”

They turned and rushed into Changdeok.

Around the corner, two guards were currently in pursuit of the young master. He was racing along the top of the wall, glancing over his shoulder at them, one arm braced on the hilt of his sword. He was ahead of them, perfectly balanced on the narrow point of the wall, but he hadn’t yet attempted to leap off to the other side. It had been pure luck that he had leapt up as soon as they rounded the corner. They chased him with a fervor, not particularly because they wished to see him detained or punished, but because it was exciting to feel as though one had a leg up over the young master.

Inside Changdeok, the first two guards raced over the wooden bridge onto the grounds, equally apprehensive and giddy over being the clever ones compared to the outside guards. They had just reached the base of the steps when the first guard grabbed his companion’s sleeve. “Look! He’s heading for the back entrance!” No doubt the guards on the other side had ran after the perimeter guards, leaving their posts empty. 

At the sound of his cry, the young master glanced back and dashed forward into the foliage. The guards cursed and shot off after him. They had barely made it to the other side when a figure leapt from the roof, sword drawn. 

It was the young master.

They drew their swords, but hesitated.

“It’s not him!” the first guard yelled. 

But as soon as the young man swung his sword, they scattered. The zing of the metal cutting the air sent a jolt of fear through the second guard. “And if it is?”

“Then detain him! I’ll get the oth---” The young man swung and they were forced to dart away. The young master came at them with a vengeance, but the first guard managed to break away, darting into the foliage after the real young master. You stay behind and deal with the illusion, idiot , he thought.

The guard that was left behind dodged once more, the sword cleaving into the ground with clank . Sweat broke out over the guard’s brow as he retreated back. His eyes darted over the grounds as if to find his salvation somewhere among it. This is definitely him and he means to kill me! He cursed his companion for abandoning him to chase an illusion and force him to detain the demon of a boy by himself. There was a deadness about his gaze that left the guard feeling numb around the arms. He could hardly keep his sword up as the young master advanced on him. He truly is a demon like they say!  

“Let me through,” the young master said.

“N-No!” With that, he charged the young master. The boy side-stepped him and instead of swinging, he danced away from him, putting distance between them again. The guard furrowed his brow.

“Yield,” the boy demanded.

“No.”

The boy lurched forward and the guard put his sword up. This time, he met the sword with his own. Except...it didn’t.

“Aish,” the young master said as the guard stared at the sword his own had just passed through. The smile that took over his face was inhumane paired with the dead eyes.

The guard yelled as he swung his sword straight through the young master’s neck and the boy disappeared into a soft spray of mist. The guard almost dropped his sword in relief. Who knew what he would have done if this had been the true young master. He suddenly straightened at the sound of his companion yelling. 

“Get back here!”

He still had time. He shot to his feet and dashed into the foliage after his companion.

There was a long moment of silence in Changdeok where only the leaves stirred in the pale light of dawn. Then a dark head poked out of the front door. Wide eyes glanced around before the rest of the body stepped out, straightening. The young master practically skipped down the front steps, leaping over every other step. As soon as he stepped out of the front gate, his two other doppelgangers leapt off the wall or stepped through the back door, though only one of them set off the trigger for the ward. The young master grinned when his dog came bounding over to him and with one quick pat on the head, he whispered, “Let’s go.”

Perched at the top of a roof of the estate crouched Kim Taehyung. He smirked as he conjured more and more Jungkooks with the flick of his wrist despite the sweat dotting his brow and the beginnings of a true ache in his limbs. He chuckled regardless when one in specific leapt into the ladies’ baths, sending that entire portion of the house into an uproar as the ladies, instead of going after Jungkook, came for the guards who pursued him, whacking the men with sticks and dousing them with bath water. At the end of the day, they were on their young master’s side after all. Taehyung’s hanbok fluttered around him as he straightened, the wide expanse of the estate sprawling out before him, a sea of dark tiles and foaming emerald treetops. Dark spots rushed his vision and he wavered a moment, a breath away from toppling from the tiles, but the moment passed. He looked to the east, towards the rising sun, wondering if Yeonjun had been successful with his part.

Yeonjun watched with satisfaction as the last of the guards fell to the floor in a tangled heap. He safely tucked the wooden tea tray under his arm. It was his lady’s favorite tray after all. He had made sure to find a tea set that wasn’t as favored by her so when the guards dropped them, it was no true pain to his lady. He looked up just as Min Yoongi and Park Jimin stepped out of the prison, both squinting despite the paleness of the sky. Both looked dirty and pale, though Min Yoongi moreso. “Yoongi-ssi,” he called and the young man’s gaze snapped to Yeonjun. He chose to ignore the blood dripping from the man’s fingers or the feral gleam that was only now seeping out of his eyes in the form of dark tears that traced a line over his cheek. Instead, he gestured with his hand. “This way.”

Jungkook ran over the paths he had traversed all his life. He was able to keep up with Garo easily and he wondered faintly if there was a bit of Beast in him as well. Garo lept at any threat that came across their path and Jungkook used narrow passages and shortcuts through windows to hinder anyone who might try to follow. Some guards darted out of the way without his or Garo’s insistence. Perhaps it was because Garo looked something like a mad Beast as he ran. Perhaps they feared Jungkook. Or perhaps, they simply did not want to be in the way of their young master and his goal. Jungkook had been idle for too long. All of them had. He wasn’t sure anything would be able to stop him.

He could feel himself drawing closer to his goal with every step and it only urged him on harder like an insistent tugging on his muscles. He burst through the gate leading into the main courtyard, heart pounding, breath quick and thin. He came to an abrupt halt, spinning in a circle, his eyes scanning until---. 

“Jungkook!”

He whirled and suddenly he was in arms that shouldn’t feel familiar yet were. A summer wind blew threw his chest and took his exhaustion with it, breathing new life into his limbs as he closed his eyes and pressed his face into Jimin’s shoulder. Jimin laughed against his ear, small and disbelieving and Jungkook mimicked it, though he felt something choke it halfway through. He leaned back, his lips separating, but before he could speak, the loud crack of the main gate opening tore their gazes from each other.

“Here she is,” Yoongi said, appearing beside Jimin followed by a boy Jungkook vaguely recognized.

“Hyung,” Jungkook began.

“This is my fight,” Yoongi cut through. “She’s followed me here.” He glanced at Jungkook. “With your abeoji’s blessing no doubt.”

The gates opened fully and like a sea, riders crashed into the courtyard, the Min clan’s banner snapping in the wind, bringing with it a cold dread. At the helm of the wave rode the matriarch of the Min clan and her two sons, her cruel dark eyes sweeping quickly over the courtyard and resting on her only grandchild.

Behind Jungkook, there was the clatter of footsteps from the three entrances that led to the main house. Jungkook didn’t need to turn to know who it was.

“Jungkook, enough,” Hyungwon said, his voice a gavel on Jungkook’s chest.

Jimin’s hand wrapped around his as he closed his eyes for a moment. Slowly, he released a breath. “You’re right, abeoji.” He turned just as the doors to Lotus House opened and the Lotus guards, led by Kim Aeja, stepped out. With her was Hoseok. Taehyung slipped up beside his cousin’s other side, looking pale and disheveled. A weary chuckle fell from his lips though he looked far from amused. Jungkook watched his abeoji’s calm gaze take in all his sons, all his family , standing opposite of him. “It is enough.”

Chapter Text

Yoongi ran from home knowing full well that there was a big chance he wouldn't make it out of this mess alive. He had attacked the matriarch of his clan. His parents and brother would be rolling over in their graves. But they didn't understand. He could bow his head and grit his teeth, bite back every word of rebellion, but it would kill him. This way, he was taking charge of his destiny. To take his death into his own hands, not as an after effect of abuse. He had fled the ancestral home fully intending to go down in battle, just not in that accursed estate. Only he hadn't thought he just might die out here in the wilderness with his wounds festering and eating him alive. 

It helped being in his shifted form since it assisted and increased his healing process. He lay there on the sodden ground, eyes closed, feeling strangely at peace for once, but then the image of Hoseok invaded the serenity of his mind, digging into his consciousness like a fast growing root until Yoongi knew he could not die without seeing or speaking to him again. His magic, as if reacting to the image of Hoseok, began to knit him together again with a greater fervor. With a heaving breath, he rose to his four legs. Then there was Jungkook, the little brat, who was going down the same path Yoongi had. He didn't want Jungkook to corner himself, leaving nothing but resentment and desperation to fuel him, just like Yoongi. Only self-destruction and hatred waited for him down that path. Taehyung had already slipped down that way before Yoongi had ever gotten the chance to know him well, and every moment after had been spent trying to lure him back. No, his dongseongs deserved better. It wasn’t too late to save them, not even Taehyung. Yoongi would help them reach peace if it was the last thing he did.

Traveling without rest for three days in his beast form wasn't the smartest thing he could have done, but it beat dragging his weak human body across the roads and possibly getting attacked by bandits. In this form, he was formidable and anything, may it be a stray hiker, bird or beast, scrambled out of his way in fear of being devoured. He had ridden the thrill of being so free and with such purpose like a drug all the way to Yeongju before he collapsed utterly. He didn't know what happened in between the time when he collapsed and when Hoseok found him in a deserted alleyway in the outskirts of the city.

He awoke instantly to the feeling of Hoseok’s trembling fingers in his fur. Yoongi did not stir, watching Hoseok as he stared down at Yoongi’s shimmering white fur splattered with blood and mud. Tears gathered at Hoseok’s lashes, like little diamonds in the moonlight. Yoongi let out a low growl, startling the trembling man. "I thought you were dead!" he cried, his voice rising at the end before it cracked. 

Yoongi raised his head with another softer growl in warning. Hoseok immediately curled his shoulders. "Sorry," he whispered, his hand reaching out to run a hand over Yoongi’s brow, watching him as if he were a creature entirely other.

Yoongi's eyes closed as he exhaled, the dirt, leaves, and trash fluttering with the soft gust. It was like coming home, simple and warm. Yoongi lowered his head onto Hoseok's thigh as Hoseok stroked his head.

"What happened?" he asked.

Yoongi nudged Hoseok’s gut with his nose and Hoseok let out a laugh, low and endeared. It was all Yoongi needed to begin pushing himself up. Hoseok was immediately on his knees, grabbing his scruff in an iron grip.

"What do you think you're doing?" he demanded, his voice and face frightening.

Though Yoongi could only speak with his clan members who shared his ability while in this form, Hoseok always seemed to understand.

His brow furrowed and the unnerving steel eased a bit from his face to give place to worry. "What do you mean to do?"

Yoongi just nudged him again and Hoseok let out a heavy, put-upon sigh, dropping his arm to rise as well.

"If someone looks out now, they'll think you're a beast."

Yoongi knew if anyone saw him right then, his mouth peeling into a malicious smile, they may very well think a beast had made it into the city limits and die of fright on the spot.

Disappointingly, no one saw Yoongi weaving his way through the city streets with Hoseok by his side. He would have loved to hear the screams and ensuing chaos, but Hoseok's hand on his scruff was enough of a reminder as much as the steady pain in his side. He did not register much except the moonlight as it played against the passing stone walls and the deep shadows that engulfed them. It was after one such darkness that Yoongi found himself panting in a garden, head bowed.

“Hyung!” Despite the familiarity of the voice, Yoongi instantly tensed, the fur on his back rising as he let out a low snarl, backing up to cover Hoseok despite Hoseok being the one with the ability to create barriers. Taehyung materialized from the shadows, eyes wide, appearing younger than Yoongi had ever seen him, his eyes too big, his face too small. “Hyung,” he repeated, his voice softer and lower as he stepped forth cautiously. “What happened?”

It was always disorienting after reverting from his animal form. The loss of blood did not help matters, but he managed to remain awake long enough to speak to Taehyung, Hoseok, and Aeja-ssi. A dim lantern was lit in the corner, but otherwise, the four of them remained crowded by shadows. Yoongi initially refused to lie down, not wishing to appear weakened, but Hoseok fixed him with a much more frightening look that had Yoongi laying himself down. Yoongi found moments of rest with his head on Hoseok’s knee, his fingers through Yoongi’s hair, tracing the lines of his fresh scar. He awoke near dawn with an abrupt alertness that Hoseok chuckled at. “Sleep awhile longer,” he murmured.

Yoongi shook his head, straightening, pretending to ignore the strain in Hoseok’s eyes because he knew it would be gone by the time they made eye contact. He knew Hoseok deserved a better soulmate. One who did not worry him. One who did not bring him only trouble. Yoongi knew he had very little to offer, now more than ever. No wealth, no status, not even peace. He was more trouble than he was worth and it broke something deep inside him that he couldn’t give Hoseok anything, anyone , better. But he was selfish. He wanted Hoseok to keep smiling like that for him and only him. “I will come back,” he croaked, his vocal cords unused to making human sounds. He pressed a kiss to Hoseok’s crown, and because he did not wish his possible last words to be a lie, he said, “I love you.”

Present time . . .

The world existed in a suspended moment of time. Jungkook was aware of the words that left his lips, aware of all the implications that they laid before his abeoji. Yet it was as if all the world had not heard. He could almost imagine, if only for a moment, that he had not spoken, that there was still a chance for repentance, a chance for----

Jimin’s hand, as calloused and worn as his own, slipped against his own and it was as if the world finally listened.

And for once, so did Hyungwon, and his response vibrated against Jungkook’s skin long after he finished. His voice rang out loud and commanding through the courtyard. “The Min boy is to be apprehended for Lady Min. My sons are to be spared, but subdued at all costs. All others,” he met Jungkook’s gaze as he spoke, “ kill .”

His abeoji’s forces shot forward and a moment later, Jungkook felt a ripple in the air as a familiar magic was used behind him. The forces stuttered as a blast of what appeared to be petals and sticks were thrown into the air. Jimin swiped a hand and they flew higher, wider before they began to expand, unfurling themselves until they began to form shapes close to limbs. He found a grin splitting his mouth as he watched, but he had no time to marvel at his hyung’s creations. He knew this was the distraction they needed because even with his hyung’s and Aeja-ssi’s added forces, they were still the minority.

Screams overtook the courtyard as Seokjin’s creations fell on people, cutting them with their paper swords or stabbing them with wooden spears. Jungkook winced as he ran, Jimin’s hand still firmly wrapped in his. He had never seen his hyung use his powers for violence, but it seemed their abeoji brought it out of him in the end. All this time, his hyung's ability had been tossed aside because it wasn’t useful enough, destructive enough, but the world seemed to enjoy the irony. 

The main objective was to keep away from his abeoji since they would be his main goal, so Jungkook and Jimin darted to the right, flanking the Min forces who were still screaming from the assault, frantically trying to cut the paper and stick creatures off their bodies without injuring themselves or their fellow clansmen.

“Jimin,” he whispered and he got a squeeze in return. A shock of power crashed through his bloodstream as Jimin took the lead, launching them forward with a kick against the stone floor.

The already disoriented warriors were not prepared for Jungkook and Jimin to directly launch themselves straight into their side like an arrow, piercing their lines as they swiped their swords, cutting anything in their way, but not lingering to finish the job. They would finish this quickly or not at all.

It was mayhem. 

Namjoon had never stopped to think about just how powerful he and his brothers were. He had never gone against a group of humans before. He was not the greatest swordsman and his skill was not the greatest with beasts since not all had the ability of human speech. The Kim clansmen did. Of course they did. They were loyal to abeoji, but they were loyal to Namjoon as well. Namjoon had led countless expeditions with almost all of them. He had trained them or trained alongside them. He had watched them grow up or they had watched him grow. They were his family.

So of course they hesitated.

They were wary as well. They knew they could not come close to him or he would have them. It had been awhile since he had used his power with full force. He did not like to use it that way. Stripping one of their basic human rights was not something he was proud of, but it seemed each one of his brothers had an ability they weren’t proud of, but they were using it to save Jungkook, save themselves.

If they weren’t coming to him, he would have to go to them.

There was enough chaos now that the ranks had dissolved and he could easily pinpoint clusters. Their eyes bulged as they noticed Namjoon coming and they quickly attempted to scrape the wooden creature that was stabbing another off, but it was too late.

“You understand that Hyungwon is wrong, don’t you?” he asked and they stilled.

“Cover your ears!” one of them yelled, but Namjoon snapped, “Stop!”

Their hands trembled but continued to move. Namjoon got a better idea. “Why don’t you close your eyes and ears and sit tight then?” The idea had already been planted in their head. If you see Namjoon-ssi approaching, cover your ears. Since it already existed and was already so enforced by previous experience, Namjoon’s words fell over them with added weight, disregarding their reasoning. All the warriors clapped their hands over their ears, their eyes shutting as they folded their legs and sat down, swords falling to the floor.

Behind him, a fresh cry of alarm went through the forces and Namjoon turned to find a great dragon rearing over the crowd. Namjoon tsked. Taehyung always did like his illusions to be flashy. When the dragon opened its mouth and fire exploded out, Namjoon was shocked to find real fire scorched the ground. It only took him a second to realize that it was Jungkook’s doing, not the dragon’s, but not everyone was quick to pick it up since it didn’t matter if the dragon wasn’t real. The fire definitely was.

Namjoon scanned the hell that was the courtyard, searching for any sign of either Jungkook, Jimin, or his abeoji, but he found none save the raging dragon. Namjoon quickly took stock. His abeoji’s forces were fresh and highly trained, but they were crippled by their sentiment for the brothers and Taehyung. The Min clan had no such sentimentality, though Namjoon was more than sure Yoongi’s brother would not let Yoongi die. But there was also the fact that they had traveled here from their city. They were worn out, but more than that, their leading force, Lady Min, was injured. She may paint a fierce image on her stead, but Namjoon knew the wound Yoongi had viciously dealt her. Their own forces were small in number, consisting of only Lotus House guards and disciples, but they had loyalties that would carry them through anything. Besides, they had the strongest abilities this generation has seen on their side.

The fact remained, though. Their wounded, weary group of warriors would not hold out beyond the handful of tricks and distractions.They had to finish this quickly or it was all for nothing. 

It was perhaps three minutes after the dragon appeared and scorched the courtyard as well as a few other members of the clan when the dead began to rise.

Horror filled not only the Kim clanspeople, but the Lotus guards and the Min clan. Seokjin’s mouth twisted in a bitter grin. If this is what it takes . . . He sent a prayer to heaven, asking for forgiveness and hoping these men and women forgave him for his gross misuse of their bodies, but they needed to maintain themselves. Each new creature Seokjin created, a string tethered itself to his heart. With each “death,” he felt a sharp stab of pain in his chest. He staggered, but he did not fall. He did not stop creating them again and again, raising them up from where they fell with a touch of his hand. Soon his hands were covered in blood and the soft pastel of his hanbok was splattered crimson. He did not know what was worse, if the blood he tasted in his mouth was his own or not.

Seokjin stopped suddenly and stared out. Lotus house and the Main house, there was no difference. There wasn’t supposed to be. Some of them had been raised together as disciples before they had been kicked out for not being good enough before being taken in by Aeja-ssi. Brother was fighting brother. Sister was fighting sister. 

And father was fighting son.

This is not what we wanted.

This is not what I wanted.

He had lost Jungkook’s hand at one point, but he knew he was not far. The cuffs of his hanbok were covered in blood. The grip of the sword was sticky with sweat and blood, but he did not know if it was his own. They did not use their powers more than they needed to as it would draw attention to themselves, but Jimin could feel his strength waning. He had practically been starved during his time in the cell, but he was accustomed to going without food for a few days. Or at least, he used to be.

The Kims had gotten him used to having a filling meal three times a day, used to the warm company that accompanied it.

Is this the only way to keep that?

Yes, yes, it was. It was not just Jimin’s or Jungkook’s choices that had led them here. It had been Hyungwon’s, Lady Min’s, Yoongi’s, Taehyung’s, Aeja’s, Namjoon’s, Seokjin’s, Kim Eunha and Park Chanri's. Years of pent up frustrations and resentments had all led to this moment and they should all be willing to pay the price, whatever it may be.

And it was right then that Jimin made eye contact with Kim Hyungwon.

He had found him.

There was a vengeance in his eyes that chilled Jimin to his very bone. Jungkook was not by his side. He would have to face him alone. But how? When he had no idea what he was capable of?

Jimin raised his sword and----

Pain sliced through Jimin’s arm, sharp and frightening. He looked down at his hand. It was trembling. He swiped at his sleeve, but there was no wound, nothing. A choked cry fell from his mouth as his hand spasmed and the sword fell from his grasp, clattering over the stone. He gripped his wrist as if to comfort it and take some of the pain, but it blinded him.

--- crack----

Jimin collapsed to his knees, crying out as his entire arm fell to pain and he knew without having to check that somehow Hyungwon had just broken his arm. This isn’t right. This kind of power ----

A pressure began to build on his shoulders and he knew what was coming next. He raised his head and----

Hyungwon jerked back just as a ball of fire exploded where he had stood. Jungkook’s hands clasped Jimin’s shoulders and Jimin instantly felt a gust of relief from the pain.

“Jungkook,” Hyungwon began.

“Shut up.” A cold fear fell over Jimin at Jungkook’s tone. Something about it reminded him of Shiba, low, dark, and feral.

Hyungwon stepped over the still burning pit of fire, swiping his hanbok to rid it of flames without glancing down. He looked down at them, imperious and irritated. But before he could spit more of his poisonous words, Jungkook let out a feral cry as he launched himself forward.

Jungkook allowed the anger to drown him as the flames overtook him. A wide arc of fire blazed from his right arm, whipping out towards his abeoji. It was not the controlled funnel of fire Jungkook had worked so hard to tame in his time in isolation. It was the very fire that he had feared for so long, the one that he believed would destroy everything. It was a part of him. It had never been anything to be afraid of. The only thing he feared was his abeoji, but not anymore.

He did not release the flames once they were lit. He did not stop until he had scorched every part of the earth that Hyungwon attempted to stand on. It would have been funny to someone else, the way he made his abeoji dance, fear of the flames lighting the instinct of survival within. Now it was Jungkook they would be afraid of.

“Jungkook!” Hyungwon yelled, furious, but it was there, that tremor of fear. “Stop this!”

Jungkook staggered, a moment of hesitation at the sound of his abeoji’s voice, so unfamiliar. 

“Do you not realize what he is doing? He is turning you against your family!” He swept a hand around them. “Look around you, this is what he has reduced your life’s worth to.”

Jungkook shook his head, knowing it was not enough to shake Hyungwon’s voice, the voice that would never leave his head. 

“ Look , Jungkook!”

Like a marionette, Jungkook jerked his head up and forced himself to look. His breath failed him. The screams, the dead, the blood, the fire . He began to tremble as his muscles loosened, turning to liquid. He felt cold. Water pricked his eyes as he took it all in, forcing himself to see what he had done.

“After all that you have worked for, you wish to be remembered as an insurrectionist?” Hyungwon’s voice drew closer, clearer amidst the chaos. A small part of Jungkook tugged him back, his footsteps stuttering over the stone, unsure and lost. “A boy who chose an outsider over his family? Look, Jungkook, at what you have done. You have turned your brothers against me. You have torn this family apart.”

Jungkook cried out, a sound of pain as he fell to his knees, hands flying to his chest. The sound twisted into something akin to sorrow, hatred, and betrayal until it strangled itself with a choke, the pain and pressure too much. He fell forward on one hand, the loose pebbles and scorched stone cutting into his palm. His vision blurred and swayed, but he forced his head up. The tears fell free as he whispered, “Abeoji,” again and again and again, but Hyungwon did not listen as he advanced, his hand clenched like a gnarled vine. Jungkook peeled his hand from the ground even though it felt as though it weighed too much and grabbed his abeoji’s hanbok, almost missing it. The fine silk crumpled in his ashen hands. No sparks ignited between his fingers and a broken sound fell from his lips. “Abeoji,” he gasped. 

Hyungwon looked down at him, his eyes filmed with unshed tears. His hands trembled, but he did not reach for Jungkook even as his youngest son’s grip began to loosen. “Jungkook,” he whispered. 

Suddenly a brilliant warmth splattered across Jungkook’s face, different from the tears as this warmth brought relief from the pain in his chest instead of crushing him. He blinked, more tears falling to clear the blood from his eyes as he realized with horror the sword that was protruding from his abeoji’s gut. “Abeoji!” he cried, shuddering on his knees as he clutched the silk tighter. The sword jerked back and Hyungwon, eyes wide, stumbled forward, spinning as he did. Together, for once, they saw the same thing. Jimin standing there, hanbok soiled and torn, right arm hanging limply in a horrid angle, a wild tortured look in his eyes. His gaze was on Hyungwon and his chest heaved, whether from pain or fear, Jungkook could not know. Hyungwon staggered and fell to Jungkook’s left, Jungkook’s eyes following the movement only to jerk away at the sound of a sword clattering to the ground. Jimin dropped to his knees, gasping through his tears. “Jungkook,” he cried, tears falling quick and hard. “I didn’t--I didn’t mean to. I just saw the sword---and you and I can’t---I couldn't--Jungkook.”

Words began to form on the hot bed of his tongue, but instead of words, it was blood that spilled from between his lips. Jungkook lurched forward, hand catching the ground to brace himself. The crimson against the gray-white-black stone startled him. Jimin was beside him quickly, sobbing and trembling, as he tried to use his one good hand to help Jungkook, pulling him so he could brace himself against Jimin’s chest. “Jungkook,” Jimin mumbled, clutching Jungkook’s hanbok tightly, looking down at him with desperate eyes. “Jungkook, please. ”

“Jimin,” Jungkook gasped, his fingers fluttering at the topmost fold of Jimin’s fold. He wanted to hold Jimin’s hand, but one held Jungkook upright while the other hung limp at his side. “Jimin.” He worked the strength to reach up and clasp Jimin’s neck. It was solid and warm, an anchor in the pain. “Don’t cry. Please don’t cry.”

But it only made him cry harder. Jimin clutched him harder, his fingers alternating between caressing his arm and grasping at it. Something had broken inside Jimin, Jungkook could see it in his eyes. Jimin’s tears fell onto Jungkook’s eyes and lips. Like this, it was as if they cried the same tears, and when they fell down to mingle with the blood between Jungkook’s lips, the taste made him smile.

It was as it should be.

He never got to say it. His eyes simply slipped closed and from there, there was only darkness.

Chapter Text

Jungkook was falling through the sky. His eyes were open and he could see the tear he had created in the brilliant blue heavens. His tears raced away from him, scattering into the atmosphere like diamonds. His arms extended upwards, but he did not know who he reached for. There was no one after all.

Suddenly, arms came up from behind him, clasping him underneath his own and he stopped falling. His head dropped, his neck weak and fragile, and his eyes took in the vast world far below his dangling feet. Tiny patches of farmland, frothing treetops, and little mounds of mountains for as far as he could see. His eyes opened wider.

“Jungkook,” a voice whispered in his ear.

He gasped and then choked, but a soothing hand was there to brush back his hair and coax him back down. But the feeling of falling overtook him once more, grabbing his gut and yanking until he tipped over and vomited. It was blood stringing down from his lips and then it wasn’t.

“It’s alright,” a voice whispered, kind and gentle.

He jerked his head around and found Seolhyun watching him, a smile on her lips even as her dark eyes crinkled with worry. “Noona,” he whispered and though he had never once touched the woman, he embraced her, ashamed by the cool regard he had always held her in. She did not jerk back or stiffen. She simply embraced him quietly until Jungkook regained his senses and pulled back on his own, his eyes falling to her gut. She laughed.

“Don’t worry, I did not push myself too hard. It is why you took so long to wake.”

Though they were escaping him like rain through his fingertips, Jungkook recalled those dreams which had never stopped, bleeding from one to the next. “I died.”

Seolhyun’s expression tightened. “You did, Jungkook.” She reached a hand out and brushed hair from his brow, the air cool against the sweat. She shook her head as her eyes fell. “When I finally got to you, your heart was no longer beating. Whatever. . . whatever your abeoji had done to you, he----” She stopped herself and shook her head. “What is important is that your heart beats now, hm?” He nodded only because it felt like what Seolhyun wanted from him. She smiled, satisfied. “Where does it hurt?”

It was only then he began to take notice of the pain. It existed beneath a cool film stretched thin across his body. He looked down to see the white cloth wrapped around what felt like every inch of his skin. Little markings were meticulously drawn on the cloth and he could only assume they were there to heal scars that he would never see.

When it became clear that words evaded him still, Seolhyun placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Rest, Jungkook.”

He let her guide him down and he let his eyes close, only faintly afraid that he may not wake again.

***

When he awoke again, it was to the gentle murmur of voices. They bubbled against his ear until finally he could pluck them out like threads and pull them closer.

"Just go, Taehyung-ah," a voice whined. "You always make me go.”

“Because you’re quicker,” another voice shot back, but there was a clear smile in it.

“More like you see me as your lackey.” Jungkook felt the air shift beside him and he knew the person was moving to get up. His hand moved without him thinking. His fingers closed on fabric that went taunt then stilled. “Jungkook?” the voice whispered, trembling slightly.

“Is he actually awake?” Taehyung exclaimed, hurrying closer.

“He’s grabbed me before,” Jimin muttered, sounding quiet and little.

Jungkook opened his eyes and a collective gasp took both of them. Taehyung fell onto his head, hugging it. “Why didn’t you say anything?!” Taehyung cried.

“I wanted to eavesdrop of course.” His voice did not sound like his. It was too cracked and faint. It was muffled regardless by Taehyung.

Taehyung pulled back and stared down at him, tears shimmering in his eyes. Jungkook shouldn’t have been surprised, but he had spent the majority of his life distant from Taehyung, unable to overcome the ostracization Taehyung faced. But Taehyung had done more than enough to prove that he cared, perhaps more than Jungkook deserved. Taehyung slipped back and Jungkook tried to sit up. Both Taehyung and Jimin hurried forward to help him. Jimin’s hand grazed against Jungkook’s gut. Before he could withdraw, Jungkook grabbed his hand and squeezed it as if to confirm it was real. The room was silent as they watched Jungkook gather his bearings then suddenly Jimin was all around him. Jimin’s arm, wrapped in stiff gauze, pressed between them. Jungkook began to tell him to take care of his injury, but he found his mouth closed instead. He closed his eyes and buried his face in Jimin’s shoulder.

"I'm sorry," Jimin whispered. His voice trembled against Jungkook’s neck, unraveling and weak.

Jungkook clutched Jimin tighter as if that were all he needed to do to keep him from breaking apart. He drew in a breath, feeling himself teetering. "No," he murmured. 

It was only then that Jimin began to cry and Jungkook could do nothing, but follow after.

It was an hour later when Seokjin-hyung entered. He blinked, clearly not expecting Jungkook to be sitting up. Jungkook felt the odd urge to laugh bubble up inside him. In a flurry, Seokjin was before him, on his knees, embracing him. Jungkook would have held him back just as fiercely had his arms felt capable of it.

"Hyung," Jungkook began. "Abeoji, he. . ."

Seokjin shook his head. For a terrifying moment, Jungkook believed that Seokjin meant that their father was dead. He felt unmoored, weightless yet frightened. Then Seokjin pulled back. “He is in his quarters.”

Jungkook let out a breath, but it was fragile. He did not know what that breath was for.

Seokjin squeezed Jungkook’s shoulders. “The disciples stopped fighting when they saw Abeoji fall. Namjoon took the chance and made everyone drop their swords. Lady Min collapsed soon after. It was chaos as you could assume. Namjoon is trying to fix things within the clan. Yoongi returned home to face his punishment for killing Lady Min.”

“No! Hyung, they’ll execute him!”

“Wait, wait, Jungkook, just be still for now! Yoongi will be fine. He retaliated against an attack from her and wounded her. It was her stubbornness to come down here herself that killed her in the end. I can’t say for sure what will happen, but he will not be executed. His parents finally see reason . . . As for us. . .It will take a lot of work, but we will fix things.”

Jungkook didn’t even know what that meant anymore. What did it mean to “fix” their family, their clan? They could not return to the way they were before, divided and estranged. But what they had done was no better than what Yoongi had done. Attempted murder of the patriarch of the Kim clan.

He felt sick.

He gripped Seokjin’s arm. “I need to see him.”

They argued for a long while. Jungkook, Taehyung, and Seokjin. Jimin said nothing. He sat far from Jungkook’s bed, hands folded on his lap, staring at the far wall. Jungkook kept wishing to break through their arguments to call out to him, to ask him to come to him, sit by his side where he belonged. But there was a wall crafted between them, one of Jimin’s creation. 

“I’m going,” Jungkook said and this time, they listened.

Jungkook could not walk properly. His father’s magic that could manipulate the very gravity around him had done something to Jungkook’s body. Something that made Jungkook run out of breath quickly. Something that left an ache in his chest and spasms throughout the rest. It was as if his hand had marked his entire body and crushed it from the inside, leaving just skin and the memory of strength to keep him together.

Seokjin, Taehyung, Seolhyun, and Namjoon all helped to bring him here. They placed him carefully down on the cushion on the ground before the bed then hesitated. “We will be outside,” Namjoon said quietly.

Jungkook nodded. His hands were braced against his knees. His spine ached, his fingers spasmed. He could not force himself to be quiet. He watched his father who had awoken as they entered, but only looked at the ceiling.

“Abeoji,” he began, then drifted, lost. I’m sorry , almost came to his lips, so easy, so familiar. Beg for forgiveness, promise to do better, and maybe he would look him in the eye again. But just as those words came to his lips so quickly, a sickness rolled them back. “I—”

“You dare to call me that,” the man said to the ceiling. “After everything.”

“A—” He gripped his knees tighter. He jerked with phantom pains, only to realize they were real. He bent to cough into his arm. He shook with the effort. “After everything, you are still my abeoji.”

He snorted, but it was clear it pained him to do so. “Well, you are no son of mine. After everything, you choose that snake over your own family, your own—”

“It is because of him that I choose my family.” His fingers twisted in his hanbok. “It is you who chose yourself. Your sorrow, your guilt, your hatred.”

His father let out a snarl, twisting to grab at Jungkook. Jungkook fell back, the old fear taking over, and he fell back onto his elbows. His family descended on the room in a moment. His father had fallen forward, contorted within the sheets. His topknot was undone, his hair flying about his face in broken pieces. His hanbok was askew. His eyes were wide and venomous. Seolhyun went to assist him, but he swiped at her as he cursed, his eyes never leaving Jungkook. His hand never connected, but rage throttled Jungkook. He fought against his brother’s arms.

“It was not me!” he cried, half delirious with pain. “I wasn’t the one who did this to us! To you! You destroyed everything. You are the destruction you feared!”

“Jungkook—”

Jungkook stopped straining against his brother, mainly because he felt so weak he may melt through the floorboards. But his anger made him unwilling. “I am glad Jimin did not kill you. It would have been too small a penance for your cowardice.” Jungkook kicked out a foot, not to strike at his father exactly, but as if that small action would make that man hear the words any clearer. 

“You disciplicable child,” Kim Hyungwon hissed, braced on one hand, a feral look in his eyes. “If only your eomma had taken you with her.”

His brothers dragged him out after that, leaving Kim Hyungwon to yell after them, destroying everything his hands could reach. Attendants stood wide-eyed as the man raged inside, but Namjoon bared their entry, one arm around his wife, his jaw tight.

It was announced that Lord Kim Hyungwon was to be exiled. 

Word spread that there had been a coupe, supported by many of the clan, led by Kim Namjoon. Those who still supported the old Lord Kim were sent into exile with him though they were far and few between. Some said Kim Hyungwon had gone mad, that it had only been a matter of time as he had never recovered from his wife’s death. Others said that Kim Namjoon, the Silver Tongue, had finally jumped for his chance at power. Others still said that Kim Aeja and her son, Kim Taehyung, had been a key piece of it. No one spoke of Jungkook. No one spoke of Jimin. They were both overlooked and nameless in the end.

A part of Jimin wished he would disappear. From that moment that he picked up the discarded sword and chose to plunge it into the man who towered over his soulmate, Jimin was no longer himself. Because he had wanted to kill him. For so long, death had surrounded Jimin, but he had been protected by his ignorance. It was not death, but murder. Murder happened when beasts came for warriors who came to fight, came to die. Murder was not meant to happen at his hands. But it almost had and he had wanted it.

He did not feel like himself.

He pretended to need rest just to be alone. He didn’t know how many days after the disaster that someone opened his door and entered. Sometimes Taehyung did that, so he could lay down beside Jimin and they could rest together. But after a heartbeat, Jimin’s senses caught up with the world. He held his breath as if that would truly make him disappear.

“Why are you hiding from me?”

The sound of his voice melted Jimin’s shoulders, but he did not open his eyes or look out from beneath the sheets. He listened with rapt attention as Jungkook made his way across the room. He stopped then took a seat on the floor. Jimin felt a flare of pain to hear how hard it was for him. It sounded like a slow, painful process and he hated himself for making Jungkook do that. Jimin beared the silence and pain for as long as he could before he threw the sheet off himself and sat up.

Jungkook looked pale, but well rested. There were no visible wounds. He was wrapped in a simple hanbok. His gaze was as clear as ever, shining in the soft light, earnest and patient. Jimin almost cried right then.

“I am not hiding.”

“Jimin.”

He jolted at the sound of his name as if it were a curse and a prayer. “If not for me—”

“If not for you, I would not have fought. We would not have fought.” Jungkook’s eyes burned now, a blurring of anger and earnestly. “If you are to be blamed, then so am I, but do not tell me you regret it. Not after everything.”

Jimin parted his lips to argue only to stop and regard Jungkook. “This was never what I expected.”

The anger receded, a sad smile tilting his mouth. “I’m sorry this was all there was to offer.”

Jimin began to protest when Jungkook added, “But if that is alright with you, I give it all to you.” He placed his hands on Jimin’s lap. “I wish it was prettier, but it is all that I have, all that I am.”

Jimin took his hands in his own, running his fingers over the little and big scars and the scars he would never see. He brought their hands up to his lips, closing his eyes. “And it is all that I ever wanted.”

Chapter Text

         They had set the date almost arbitrarily. It wasn’t meant to be a celebration or really a reunion, but rather a simple promise among the seven of them. On this day, every year, they were to meet at this beach. The location almost seemed arbitrary as well. None of them had grown up here, but none of them had been to the sea so that was reason enough. As for the date, there were many options that did not work. Not the day Jimin was found, not the day of the battle, not the day of the Kim patriarch’s exile, or Namjoon or Yoongi’s ascendance. None of those memories were without their rife. All of them knew that their past was not dead, but at least for this day of the year, it would be. 

           They ended up choosing the second week of June because that was the first day they had all been settled enough in their new lives and new roles to come together once more and experience something new again. 

            Though they only had one fixed date, Taehyung arrived at the beginning of the week as he was the closest. Well, technically Jimin and Jungkook were, but they had the tendency to be away from home for long stretches of time. Taehyung often joked that they acted more like nomads than the most acclaimed warriors in the land. They were technically members of the Kim clan, but they were given full authority over their own missions and actions. Last Taehyung had heard, they were coming down from the north near Gyeongsong and so would be coming down with Yoongi and Hoseok. Namjoon and Seokjin would be arriving earlier and together though Namjoon always loathed to be away from his precious Jiwoo. She was only two, yet was more spoiled than the Emperor’s daughter though Taehyung wasn’t one to critisize considering his own contributions to the accusation.

             Before everyone else’s arrival, Taehyung spent his time going through the market, planning what he was going to make his brothers make when they got here. He shared cautious glances with the fruit seller who blushed whenever he said good morning. He played ball with the local kids, racing off with them when the ball went through the rice paper windows. He’d feed the stray dogs. He was amused when one followed him back and he decided it wouldn’t hurt to have one more. So he took it home. 

              But more than all that, he liked those long nights playing his daegeum. He was already a master at it, playing among thousands of people, but he liked it most on nights like these when the wind came off the sea just right and the moon was so bright and full that it felt like he was just a humble entertainer for a benevolent god. The wistful reedy call of the daegeum felt like it just might reach it. These days, Taehyung didn’t seek Daejoon’s voice in his head as often. He felt guilty for feeling relief at the silence, but he knew that was all his soulmate would have wanted so he did his best.

               It was such a perfect night tonight, but he couldn’t help feeling a little lonely even with the moon as company. He lowered his daegeum with a sigh. 

               “Why did you stop?” a voice asked behind him.

               “Jimin!” He launched to his feet, racing towards his friend with the greatest rush of delight that he hadn’t felt in awhile. He crashed into him, but it was Jimin who laid his head against his shoulder, arms tight around his middle. Jimin smelled like fresh cloth and soft florals and something else that brought to mind a distant place.

               They didn’t let go for awhile, but when they did, their happiness was mirrored in one another’s smiles. They didn’t have to say anything. They both just knew.

               “We might as well go home,” another voice sighed.

               Taehyung let out a delighted laugh, moving towards Hoseok and Yoongi. He hugged the pair, loving the feeling of feeling young in their arms. “You all just keep growing,” Yoongi muttered, but he chuckled anyways. Over Yoongi’s shoulder, Taehyung caught sight of Jungkook at the doorway, shifting his weight nervously. He smiled at Taehyung, a little unsure. One could easily forget he was one of the most fearsome warriors when looking at him like that. It was easy to forget just how young he was.

               “Come over here already,” Taehyung exclaimed, opening his arms.

               Jungkook chuckled and came over into the hug.

               Namjoon and Seokjin arrived the following day. With their arrival, the world got louder and bigger and not only because Seokjin yelled a lot or that Hoseok laughed at everything. Namjoon complained about the noise, blushing when he was called out in return.

               They went down to the beach the next morning. The sky was overcast, but it didn’t dull their mood one bit. On their way down, Seokjin had relayed his plans to fish to Namjoon and so told the others. “I am a busy man,” he said as if they had asked for an explanation. “I need simple hobbies like this to relax.” Yoongi joined him, but mainly just sat at the stone pier beside him, staring out into the sea.

               Hoseok and the younger ones went out to play in the sea as Namjoon sat beneath the shade of a tree and read. When he grew weary of that, he looked out at the others. Taehyung had hauled himself out of the sea and dropped himself onto the beach like a discarded corpse. Hoseok had gone off to check on Seokjin and Yoongi. The sun briefly came out, bathing the world in slanted strips of sunshine through the blue-gray. Namjoon looked down the beach and found Jimin and Jungkook. They walked the shore, side by side. Jungkook carried both their sandals on his fingers. Jimin gestured widely about something, more animated than Namjoon had seen him in the early days, and Jungkook’s attention never wavered as if Jimin may disappear if he did. 

              Namjoon still felt a knot of regret when he saw them. If he had acted sooner…If he had spent less time scheming … But he had learned a lot since his father’s downfall. He would not be his father; a man incapable of letting go of the past. So instead, he looked at them all with a swell of pride. These were his people; the ones who knew him as his best and worst and loved him just the same. If there was a word greater than “love” then it would be here between them.

              When dusk finally fell, they dug a hole in the ground and started a fire. They roasted the two fish Seokjin had spent the day fighting for as well as the meat Hoseok had had the foresight to have sent from the village. They had all changed and had brought out woven mats to sit atop, sandals lost somewhere in the sand.

              It was hard to think they had gone their separate ways at all. To hear them speak, one would think no time had passed. It was as if the people they were when they were separated and the people they were when they were together were the same yet entirely unalike.

              Jungkook had his eyes closed, head leaning on Jimin’s shoulder. He listened to his brothers laughing, reciting tall tales, arguing, and drinking over the cracking of the fire. It was perhaps the sweetest sound he knew.

              “You remember you told me you would go to the moon with me?” Jungkook asked.

              “Mm?”

              Jungkook straightened and looked over at Jimin who was regarding him with the beginning of a smile. “The moon.” He laughed, a little embarrassed to bring up something Jimin had said one night so long ago. 

              Jimin laughed softly. “Yes.” He brushed Jungkook’s hair back and Jungkook almost closed his eyes at the motion. “Even if the moon herself denies us, we will go.”

              Jungkook smiled. He held out his smallest finger. “Promise?”

              Jimin chuckled but wrapped his smallest finger around Jungkook’s. “I promise.”

              And with the moon as their witness, they did.