Chapter Text
“Thank you for the wonderful night! Get home safe - we love you!” The band mates said their farewells to their fans as they made their way off stage, the stadium lights switching back on. Dripping with sweat, backstage was uncomfortably hot.
“Another brilliant concert, boys. Have a good rest before the next concert in two days,” Their staff told them as they walked through the winding corridors, ducking below the low ceiling.
“I am so tired,” Seokjin whined, collapsing into the leather sofa as soon as they reached the dressing room. “But I hate it when the concert ends.”
”Yeah. I wish we could see ARMY all the time. Concerts are exhausting, but an indescribable, unbearable amount of fun,” Jimin smiled, sitting beside Seokjin.
Once they had all changed out of their concert attire, they went their separate ways, hopping into seven different cars, headed for home. They only had three concerts left in Seoul before they were flying around the globe again, barely staying in a hotel for a night before moving to the next.
Namjoon was the first to get home. He thanked his driver and unlocked the door, placing his shoes just inside the doorway. Once he had made himself some food - a quick and easy cup of noodles - he walked into the living room, but stopped in his tracks before he got the chance to sit down.
Atop his coffee table sat a small, hexagonal black box, adorned with an intricate red pattern on the lid. Placing his noodles aside, he sat on his sofa and picked the box up, staring around him to see where it might’ve come from.
When he opened the lid, a bright light blinded him for a moment, forcing him to shield his eyes with his hand. When he could see again, a strange creature hovered in front of him; it was red, with its head decorated with black spots, and a thin antennae hanging down. The creature was only slightly smaller than the palm of his hand, and stared up at him with bright, sparking eyes.
“Hi!” It said.
Namjoon flinched, pressing his back against his sofa in an attempt to create as much distance as he could. He gawked at the oddity, his entire body stiff.
”My name is Tikki. I understand how scary and strange this must be for you right now.” Tikki’s voice was gentle, but child-like.
“What… are you?” Namjoon breathed, unmoving.
Tikki didn’t dare move either, allowing him to keep his distance. “I’m a kwami. I can grant you a superpower; the power of creation.”
Namjoon shifted slightly, his brows furrowed. “Superpowers?”
“Yes. You have been chosen to protect this country - the whole world for that matter - from evil!” Tikki explained, “The earrings inside the box are your miraculous; the jewels which give you access to me and your powers. You need to be wearing them in order to transform into a superhero.”
He took the earrings, inspecting them. The second he held them in his hand, their red-and-black spotted design vanished, becoming subtle, silver studs.
“But why me?”
”The guardian of all the miraculous jewels had been on the lookout for new holders. She has had her eye on you for some time, and has decided you would be the best fit for this role,” Tikki smiled.
As Tikki explained everything else, Namjoon put the earrings in his ears, listening carefully.
“All you have to do now is say : ‘Tikki, spots on’ , and you’ll transform.”
Namjoon paused, evaluating the whole situation in his head. Did he even fully understand what he was committing to? Was he even able to shoulder such a responsibility?
Although unsure, he got to his feet. “Tikki, spots on!”
In a brilliant, pink flash of light, his ordinary clothes were replaced by a red and black-spotted bodysuit, a matching mask surrounding his eyes. Attached to his waist was a yo-yo of the same design.
He ran to the nearest mirror, gasping at the sight of himself. The suit hugged his figure, but was sturdy and comfortable.
He was broken from his thoughts as a boom shook through his house, rattling any decorations he had around the house. He ran to the window and was met with a horrific sight, nothing like he had ever seen before - ruined buildings consumed by clouds of smoke, and a colossal monster made up of what seemed to be broken glass.
“Oh God,” He muttered, “This must be the evil Tikki was talking about.”
He opened the window and crouched on the windowsill, brandishing the yo-yo. With the string wrapped around his middle finger, he swung it forward, and it wrapped around a lamppost automatically, throwing him across the sky as it retracted.