Chapter Text
Jimin stares at it until his vision becomes blurry, the small circles adorning his skin almost disappearing. Jimin wishes they would. It can’t be.
Leaning back against the bedpost, he sighs. He lets his fingers brush over his new soulmate marks, waiting. Jimin has been waiting for a long time now, years really. But this.. these two marks.
A loud crash startles him, breaking his train of thoughts. He raises himself on his knees to look outside of his windows. He can barely see what’s happening, but he can spot smoke and flames in the distance. The riots have doubled lately, and Jimin wishes they would stop altogether. The numbers of patient in the year because of the virus is already high enough, he doesn’t need to have victims from the riots too. And yet, he can’t help but think about him.
Yoongi.
Jimin hasn’t seen him in over a year. Since he left. A little voice in his brain whispers since he left you, but Jimin pushes it away. He doesn’t need the reminder of whatever he had felt for the older boy, not when it only brings Jimin pain. It’s been a year, he should be over it. And yet. Everytime someone walks in the dispensary calling for help, half of him is thankful it’s not Yoongi, and half of him wishes it were.
Is Yoongi even alive? Is he hurt? Is he doing okay? Jimin has heard that the rebels have intercepted military trucks two days ago and that it was a bloodbath. Jimin hadn’t wanted to look at the list of the victims, knowing he wouldn’t be able to handle it if Yoongi’s name had been on it. Jimin wishes for a lot of things. For the virus to leave his city. For everyone to be safe and healthy. For Min Yoongi to never show up on his doorstep hurt and bloody.
Maybe it’s selfish.
To never want to see Yoongi again. Even though, he does want to see the older, because he still cares about Yoongi, despite how their last meeting had gone. He had said some pretty bad words to the older but gosh, he can’t take time back now. Wishing is all he has. He just hopes that whatever Yoongi is alright while he’s doing .. whatever he’s doing with the rebels, wherever he is. He watches the smoke and flames double in size and he wonders. Is Yoongi among those who set it? Is he the one who set it?
His bedroom door opens up with a bang and Jimin’s head whips around to find his best friend, his platonic soulmate grinning at him, holding a small cupcake with a lit candle in his hands.
"Happy birthday, soulmate!" Taehyung beams and Jimin is happy to see him. He has half the mind to shush Taehyung in fear of waking the patients up upstairs but he's too happy. They haven't had a thing to celebrate in a while now. They're allowed to have this.
Taehyung quickly pads over to Jimin's bed and the two friends sit face to face with their legs crossed. Taehyung is still holding the cupcake carefully in his hands. The candle is small but bright, and Jimin never keeps his lights on anymore, so the flame is the only source of light between them.
"I know it's not much, but I don't think any birthday should be uncelebrated." Taehyung says. "Plus, I did steal this cupcake from one of our stocks, so you know. It adds to the thrill."
Jimin chuckles. "Didn't know you were such a rebel, Taehyung-ah." Taehyung is the one in charge of reporting the stocks. They're safe.
Taehyung smirks playfully. "Maybe I should join them outside then. Lit a fire or something."
Jimin laughs but his heart isn't in it. His hands go to hold Taehyung's around the cupcake, a silent cry for reassurance. He laughs but his heart whispers don't leave me, not you.
"Should I make a wish?" He asks, and Taehyung nods vigorously. Jimin closes his eyes and starts thinking. Again, Jimin wishes for a lot of things. For things to get better. For Taehyung's health. For the city to stop burning.
For Yoongi to come back.
He thinks about the two circles on the inside of his wrist. The soul marks, linking him to other souls in this forsaken world. He thinks about Taehyung, sitting right across from him, can see his smile from memory. Then, Jimin thinks about him. His soulmate. He thinks about the smokes and the fires and the virus. As he blows the candle, eyes still closed, he prays for him, wishes for him.
Once he opens his eyes, Taehyung is beaming at him. Jimin takes off the candle off the cupcake, and Taehyung splits the cupcake in two, offering a half to Jimin.
"Thank you for this, Tae." Jimin smiles before taking a small bite. The cupcake tastes like vanilla on his tongue, and it's funny. There's a war happening outside, and the two teenagers are enjoying a small cupcake in a dim-lit room. The light from outside is enough to give them a bit of visibility. Jimin can't remember how dark it was before. Nowadays, there are fires every night, lighting up the city. The sky is a permanent blanket of smoke residue, and Jimin is sick of it.
"My cousin said we should come." Taehyung says as he munches over his bite. "It's going to be cold soon, and my own birthday is approaching. He wants me to come by."
Jimin hums. Jimin has met Kim Namjoon a couple of times in his life but he's sure that the man must have changed since then. Jimin had only been a kid when he met him for the first time. Invited to Taehyung's eleventh birthday party, the first Jimin had attended after he and his family had moved to Seoul. Taehyung had been his first friend here. Jimin wonders if he'll be his last.
"Are you going to go?" He asks, trying to keep the dread away from his voice but he knows it's obvious.
Taehyung shrugs. "I could. It's been a while." Taehyung pauses, setting his eyes on Jimin. "I told him I wouldn't leave without you though."
Jimin could burst from the love he feels for Taehyung. Still, he shakes his head. "You don't have to stay here for me, Taehyung-ah. You can go and see your family."
Taehyung's hand braces Jimin's knee. "But you're my family too."
Jimin feels tears well up in his eyes, because shit. Taehyung is his family too. Jimin has no one left. His mother died when he was a kid, to the point where he barely remembers her, and his father… his poor father.
"But you should go." Jimin insists. "I know you miss him."
"But I would miss you too if I leave." Taehyung protests. "I can't leave you here. Neo-Seoul is doomed, Jimin-ah. There's nothing left here for us to save, no matter what the government claims."
Jimin clicks his tongue, having heard the argument before. Neo-Seoul. That's how the government started naming the city after the virus outbreak caused too many deaths and they couldn't hide it anymore. Jimin remembers the look of exhaustion of his father as he came home everyday, trying to save people after people. He remembers when the first virus symptoms showed, how he had wanted to help, how his father had kept him away. His father had tried to find a cure, helped with the research for a vaccine, a viable treatment, anything to lessen the pain, but no. The virus had taken him before he could succeed. Jimin has tried to look at it, at the research, in hope that maybe he could find a cure. But in vain.
Shaking his head, he dusts his hands on his pants. "Can we talk about this in the morning?"
Taehyung sighs but he nods. He steps off the bed, and goes to hug Jimin before he goes. "Call if you need me. You know where to find me."
Jimin giggles at that. "You are literally down the hall, Tae."
Taehyung rolls his eyes. "You know what I mean." Jimin smiles but nods regardless. Yes, he does know. Taehyung leaves his room in silence, and Jimin is left alone again. He lies back down, deep in thought.
He remembers what his father had said when they had first arrived here, just six months after his mother passing. A big smile was on his face and he had looked genuinely happy for the first time in what felt like forever. "This is it, Jiminie," he said almost giddily, squeezing his son's shoulders, "this is our new home."
Jimin wonders if his father knew that Seoul will be their last home, the city becoming a cradle of death for many souls.
A moment passes before he lets a tear escapes his eyes. Thinking about his father always makes him emotional. Especially today. It's his birthday, he should be happy. But this is also the second one that his father is missing, and the pain doesn't get any less with time. Jimin sighs, knowing his father wouldn't like him to be sad over something he can't control. But still. Jimin wishes he could have enjoyed those last moments more, wishes he could have known that the last moments were indeed last moments, and not just moments. He would have made them matter more.
Raising his wrist, he stares at his marks. Circles. Small and perfect. Jimin touches the spot where the third one should be. He remembers when his father told him about soulmate marks for the first time. Jimin had spotted the three waves on his father's nape one evening and asked about them. His father had smiled as he told him, rubbing the back of his neck as if he had just remembered about the lines there. "Oh, these? They're for my soulmates."
"Soulmates?" A younger Jimin had asked. The word had tasted sweet on his tongue, like something to be savoured.
"Yes. See, soulmates are people that your soul is connected to. In our world, each person has three. You have a platonic soulmate, you can think of it as a best friend. Someone who will always be by your side no matter what. Then, you have a romantic soulmate, a lover. Someone you shall love with all your heart and more."
"Was Eomma your romantic soulmate?"
A sad smile. "Yes, yes, she was."
Jimin hadi't liked the sad glint in his father's eyes so he had asked something else. "What about the third one?"
"Oh, the third one is for your nemesis." His father had explained, somewhat glad for the change of subject. "It's someone your soul will never be connected to. Someone who despite all your efforts, you'll never be able to see eye to eye with."
Jimin hadn't said anything more, because he had barely understood what his father meant. And that now his marks have appeared and he's filled with so many questions, he wishes he could have asked more. He wishes his father was still here, so he could help him.
He stares at the circles on his wrist, still somewhat hoping that it can't be true, that there is another circle hidden away somewhere else on his body, but he knows there won't. He stares and he hates that they look so similar to his. To Yoongi's.
Jimin truly wishes there was a way he could be wrong about this.
But he had seen them. That night, that last night, in a flash of anger. His hand trying desperately to grab at Yoongi, to make him stay, to make him see, and the sleeve had pulled upwards a little, barely but just enough so he could spot it. Jimin hadn't thought of it ever again, had dismissed the whole image truly. Until the circles appeared on his own skin.
Jimin wonders if Yoongi knew when he met Jimin.
Yoongi was seventeen already when they had met. With the older being born in march and the two of them meeting in July, Jimin wonders if Yoongi had known. If he had wanted it to be Jimin.
He'll never know now.
He's wished for enough things to know that they are only just that. Wishes. And wishes never come true.
With a sigh, he decides to get some sleep because he shouldn't be up this late, and he has an early shift tomorrow at the dispensary and after tonight's riot, he's sure people will come up really early for help. He just needs a couple of hours and-
The first series of bangs make him jump in his bed. Sitting up abruptly, he thinks Taehyung must have knocked something over. But when the banging stops, he can distinctively hears his best friend's snores down the hall. The banging starts again, and Jimin jumps from his bed, putting on his pair of sandals before he darts out of his room. But he doesn't forget to bring the gun standing on top of his desk near the door. It's the only weapon he'll allow himself to have, with the city being too risky these days. At first, Jimin hadn't wanted to carry a gun, but after a citizen tried to break in to get medical supplies and they had to be shot, Jimin prefers to be safe.
He walks down the hall, the banging continuing as he approaches the source. It's from the back door, he realizes as he steps closer carefully. Jimin takes a deep breath once he reaches the door, the banging incessant and loud. Jimin tries to tell himself he won't hesitate to shoot if the person is violent or tries to force their way in. Lowering his hand to grab the door handle, he exhales before pushing it open.
His gun raised and his eyes focused, he's ready.
But the sight he's given is one he's never wished for.
"I didn't have anywhere else to go."
———————————————
It was supposed to be simple. Light the fires in the buildings with the informations and leave. No need for bloodshed. That's what he had hoped for. Yoongi groans as the antiseptic is being applied to his skin, reminding him that he knows better than to hope for good things. He hasn't had a good thing in a long time, can barely remember what it feels like.
But Jimin's hand in his.
It's not intentional. Yoongi is almost certain the younger is barely aware that he's doing it. Yoongi looks around the small room Jimin had brought him and Jeongguk. The youngest is being taken care of Taehyung, who Yoongi knows to be Jimin's best friend. Yoongi wants to hurl as he looks at the two. For someone who complained all the way here about how he didn't need any help, Jeongguk is surely acting like the cuts on his legs are deadly. Yoongi mentally rolls his eyes. Jeongguk will do anything for a pretty face. He might be fifteen and too young to be involved in this, but some things can't be helped.
His thoughts break when he hisses in pain, fists tightening as Jimin applies the antiseptic to his arm again. The younger barely stops and only applies a harder pressure. Yoongi can't blame him. This is definitely not the kind of reunion with Jimin that he had dreamed of. God knows he had dreamed of it.
Jimin, and his small and soft hands. Jimin and his pretty eyes. Jimin and his pretty laugh.
Is he laughing again these days? Yoongi hopes he is. Jimin's laugh should be heard by everyone, though Yoongi selfishly wants to hear it now. Hence why he's speaking when he really shouldn't.
"That hurt."
"Serves you right for getting a second degree burn at midnight." Jimin snaps back immediately.
Okay. Well. He does deserve that.
Jimin stands up from the stool he's sitting on and goes to a small cabinet on the other wall and starts looking for something. Yoongi sends a desperate look to Jeongguk who just shrugs at him with a grimace. Yoongi silently groans, trying to think of something to say to lighten the mood. His solution comes in the form of Taehyung's sweet voice.
"So, are we to expect anymore late night guests or is it just going to be you two?" The young one asks as he tightens the band-aid wraps around Jeongguk's calf.
"The building was empty before we lit the fire." Jeongguk answers. "We checked."
Jimin slams the cabinet shut. "Yes, because you guys are setting on fire buildings after buildings but god forbid you have blood on your hands."
Jimin's eyes are down as he walks towards Yoongi with a small pot, but Yoongi can see the tension in his body. "Jiminie-" The glare Jimin sends him is enough to stop him.
"Don't. I can't hear excuses tonight." That's all he says before he starts applying the ointment to Yoongi's arm, his hand sliding into Yoongi's again to hold his arm up.
Yoongi feels awful. He shouldn't have come here. It was a bad idea. But with the way Jeongguk had been panting, his leg all bloody and blue from the explosion and the way his own left arm was throbbing in pain as the flames licked at him.. he had nowhere else to go.
Jimin's hand in his is gentle, and soft but his eyes are sharp and cutting. His hair has grown a little, it makes his cheeks look even more round, and Yoongi notices the small pout he had once grown so familiar to is still here, the clear sign that Jimin is focused. He's missed it, missed Jimin. Despite everything, despite how they left things between them.
The yearning he's felt for a whole year goes deeper than everything Yoongi has ever felt.
They stay quiet, until Taehyung and Jimin are both finished with nursing them back to health, or something close at least. When Yoongi stands up, he's a bit shaky but he gathers his breathing. Taehyung and he both assist Jeongguk in standing up. He tries to hide it, but Jeongguk winces when he presses his leg down.
"Shit, are you alright?" Yoongi asks him in a whisper, feeling Jeongguk grabbing his shoulder hard.
"Oh you know, I've just had twenty shards of glass pulled out of my fucking leg so I am fucking great." Jeongguk snaps, but Yoongi knows he doesn't mean it.
"Can you walk to the compound?" Yoongi questions.
Jeongguk doesn't even have to answer because Taehyung does for him. "He can't walk on this leg. He'll break it before he's reached the river."
"I'll manage." Jeongguk winces.
Taehyung scoffs and then turns to Jimin with an eyebrow raised. Jimin only stares back with his arms crossed over his chest. "No." That's all he says.
Taehyung only tilts his head, with an insisting look and Yoongi feels a tugging in his chest. Platonic soulmates, he guesses. Yoongi remembers his, as he watches Taehyung and Jimin communicate silently. He pushes it away before the pain can settle. Not wanting to come between the two friends, he speaks up. "I'll carry him back to the compound, it's alright."
Three pair of eyes turn to him, but it's Jeongguk who speaks first. "You can't carry me."
Yoongi doesn't even have the strength to glare. "Of course, I can."
Jeongguk is about to retort, but Taehyung speaks before he can. "Don't be ridiculous, you can stay with us."
"Taehyung-ah!" Jimin calls, glaring loud.
"Jimin-ah!" Taehyung retorts on the same tone, but unlike Jimin, he's smiling.
Jimin's glare only sticks for a few more seconds, before he groans. "Fine but when the soldiers show up for the check-in, you're explaining why two rebels are here." And with that, he strides away and exit the small room.
Taehyung sighs, but still offers Yoongi and Jeongguk a smile. "Come on, I'll show you to my room."
Yoongi can't sleep. First because his arm is throbbing in pain, and second because Taehyung and Jeongguk are in a snoring competition somehow. He's staring at the white ceiling, wondering what will kill him faster. His mind wanders to the door down the hall. Jimin's room. He had only caught another glimpse of the young boy before the door closed behind him. Yoongi understands, it's his own fault that Jimin is acting this way. He's the one who left after all. A year without seeing each other, and he only has himself to blame.
Yoongi thinks about it, feels the idea bloom in his mind.
He shouldn't.
Taehyung snores once more before Yoongi pulls himself on his feet and exits the room, grabbing the small blanket Taehyung had gifted him.
He takes careful steps towards Jimin's door. This is a bad very idea. But well. Yoongi has been making a lot of those lately, so what's one more, right? That's what he tells himself when he knocks on Jimin's door. The answer doesn't come immediately, but he waits. He stands there and waits until he hears a faint come in.
He pushes the door gently, and slowly puts half of his body inside the crack. Jimin is laying sideways on his bed, the whole room filled in darkness, his wide eyes set on Yoongi. He looks so cute, Yoongi thinks. Delicate, vulnerable, precious. There's a war going on outside, Yoongi would know perfectly since he's the one fueling it mostly, and yet, Jimin looks nothing short of an angel.
This is a bad idea.
"Taehyung-ah and Jeongguk-ah are snoring like trucks." He says. As if that explains everything. This is a bad idea, and he's always making it worse for himself. But whenever he's around jimin, stupid things come out of his mouth. He can't believe he's ever thought he'd be a lawyer. Following his father's path seems like a lifetime ago now. Yoongi wonders for a short second what would he say if he knew what his son became. Leader of the rebellion. He's only 19.
His father must be rolling in his grave.
"How is that my problem?" Jimin's sweet but edgy voice breaks his thoughts.
Yoongi sighs, with a nod, holding the blanket closer to his chest. "I am sorry. I.. I'll go find a bed in one of the rooms in the dispensary upstairs."
He's barely moving that Jimin speaks again. "So you do have a death wish."
Yoongi looks back at Jimin, frowning. "What do you mean?"
"I wasn't kidding when I mentioned the soldiers earlier. Every morning, they check the dispensary for rebels that might try to hide here. If they see you and Jeongguk, you're both dead."
Yoongi stares at Jimin, at his expressionless face as he speaks. Yoongi remembers when he met Jimin. How bright he had been. How helpful, how cheerful, how nice and sweet he had been. He had only been fifteen at the time. A child, training to be a nurse. Maybe that's what makes it worse. That they're both children, stuck in an endless war against forces they can't end themselves. Yoongi is trying, fuck, he's really trying. Still.
He's just a child. He's only 19.
He throws a playful smile at Jimin. "Well, I guess this is goodbye then." He lets out a small chuckle, still trying to diffuse the tension he can feel in the air, but Jimin's lips don't even tug the slightest bit upwards. God, today is really not his day, is it?
"Goodbyes aren't really your thing, aren't they." It's not a question, and Yoongi knows exactly what Jimin is referring to.
He has yet to apologize for that, and showing up on Jimin's doorstep all bloody and wounded really wasn't the best way to do so. He takes another step forward, now fully inside Jimin's bedroom, and closes the door slowly behind him. Jimin doesn't stop him, so Yoongi takes that as a small win. The room is dark, but there's a bit of light coming from outside. When he looks outside, he realizes it's from the fire he's lit earlier.
He tries to get adjusted to the darkness by blinking and also taking in the room. It's quite bare, but there's a desk with books and notebooks on them. There's a few pictures framed too, but Yoongi can't make them out. The bed is against the wall with the window and there's a closet on the opposite side of it. It's not what he had imagined Jimin's room to be like that but they live in sour times.
Placing his eyes back on Jimin, he realizes the younger hasn't stopped looking at him. He feels a little bit embarrassed, standing here. He's not even sure why he came here anymore. He had wanted to escape the other room, and see Jimin, but now.. now what?
"I am sorry." He says, and it's heavy on his tongue, but it's all he can say.
"What for?" Jimin asks.
If Yoongi is honest, the list is quite long. For appearing like this, in these circumstances. For leaving like this, a year ago, in these circumstances. For not telling the whole truth.
"For everything." He shrugs.
Jimin stares at him, keeps doing so for long minutes and Yoongi wants to tell him that he can just ask, that whatever he's searching, it's his to ask. But he stays quiet and waits.
Finally, Jimin sighs. "You can sleep on the floor." He had propped himself on his elbows to speak to Yoongi better, but the second the words are out, he turns around and gives his back to Yoongi. The older knows it's more than he deserves so he pads quietly across the floor and when Jimin moves his arm to drop a pillow on the floor, Yoongi doesn't say anything. He just takes the pillow and gets comfortable on the floor. The pillow smells of Jimin and Yoongi takes a minute to try and not bury his nose in it. He gets a bit of peach, of flowers, and something else that screams Jimin but Yoongi can't say how.
He lies on his back, because of his arm. It's still a bit painful, but well. It's a worse than dying. Which would have happened, had he and Jeongguk not gotten out of there when they did. How could he have not seen the gas tank at the back? People made a mistake when they named him leader. He has no idea what he's doing.
"Do you want a pain killer?"
Yoongi frowns. “Sorry?”
“For your arm.” Jimin answers simply. It’s funny how he still manages to be nice. Yoongi knows a good handful of people who would let him rot.
“I am fine for now, thank you.”
“Okay.” A long pause. “Goodnight then.”
Yoongi hums. Now that he’s fully adjusted to the darkness, he can see a few things better. He notices a small calendar pinned to the wall, with a date circled. He thinks he can spot a few hearts around the number 13th with the word birthday written in the square.
Wait.
October 13th.
“Jiminie?” The nickname slips far too easily from his lips and Yoongi looks upwards towards Jimin’s bed. He can’t see the younger boy but Yoongi knows he’s not sleeping. He hears a vague hum, and he wishes he could see Jimin’s face, his soft eyes with the stars hidden in them. “Happy birthday.”
Jimin doesn’t answer for a very long time and Yoongi waits but after a while, Yoongi stops hoping for one. He’s already ruined everything with Jimin, so what’s one more thing right? he thinks, trying to soothe some pain in his chest. Jimin is 17, the age where the soulmate marks appear. Yoongi wonders if they’ve shown up on his skin yet. Wonders if they match his. He falls asleep to fantasies of running in a field under the sun in spring, his hand clasped around Jimin’s, matching circles on both of their wrists.