Work Text:
chapter i ~ the boy from the south.
it's hard to make friends, you conclude at six.
it's hard to make friends. mostly because you can't seem to stand out like the other kids. despite the lack in portion of your envied height, they compensate as such over the skills and juvenile confidence you don't have. for you have anything but grace instilled within your limbs, and much less the outspoken voice common among your peers. but you try anyways, even when you've fallen on your face, and tripped over toes in an effort to catch up. it's hard but you try, cause you've yet to find the pleasure in solitude and to mingle with those your age is but a simple desire.
it's why you're still chasing for penguins long after the other kids have ridden down the hill. you've already tried calling for assistance but your voice dissipates into your wind just as your confidence because you can't help but let hesitation soften your tongue. like you're scared they'll run away if you spoke just a little too loud, as if you thought your height was already intimidating enough to add to the absence of your approachability. so you clench your fists and run in the snow, with bruises on your elbows and bumps on your knees.
it's in your next fall that you almost give up, feel the tears brimming in your eyes from the frustration because it should be but a simple task but it's always you who struggles with such difficulty.
it's in your surprise then, that a shadow looms over your own. you face a boy that barely exceeds your shoulder but he shakes his head at you as if to a child younger than him, the hands on his hips now reaching to tug at yours. "c'mon dude," he says, skittering towards his bucket of fish and takes one into his palms, smiling in your direction, "this is how it's done."
making friends is still hard, you think. but today you find that it's also not impossible.
the next ten years is spent with him by your side, even though you're two years ahead in age, but the gap is barely noticeable when you're passing by the training fields to leave him with sustenance. roll your eyes when he complains about the amount of seaweed in the soup when you know that's how he likes it. in return, he pesters you even within the confines of your own home, to the point where your mother no longer needs to consider cooking the extra portions (you'll eat it in his absence anyways) and your brother gave up fighting for your affection ("sometimes i wonder whether hoseok is your brother or me," he grunts and you'll laugh because you wonder why they still contest for a place in your heart when they already have their own.)
still, you wouldn’t have minded if this was how you'd spend the rest of your life because home could have never been warmer even in the southern pole.
you were barely over sixteen when they came for you.
you knew this wouldn't have constituted to a normal day since hoseok told you about the ship from the north bordering upon the pier. you didn’t expect to see the northern tribe at this time of the year but such wouldn’t have concerned you. not usually. for fate always have other intentions but you'd never think such plans would've involve you.
when you return home at dusk, the first thing you noticed, before the foreign faces of the uniformed men, was that of your family. because you don't think you've ever seen that kind of expression from your mother.
"there's something we need to tell you," father finally says, and somehow, you knew you wouldn’t like what comes next.
"so you're leaving?" hoseok breaks the silence first. he always does, because you don't.
you still haven't found the courage to look at him, not yet. instead, you're transfixed on the outskirts of the ocean waters you've gaze upon since birth, another moment's breath before you finally reply, "yeah."
"well, that sucks," hoseok sighs, and you can already imagine his pout, like he's sulking for the both of you. he always does, because you don't.
"yeah," you say. and it came out a little more apologetic than you’d hope but you’re the one preparing for a different future.
"who's going to pack me lunch and help me look good now?" hoseok continues wistfully, and he laughs when you lightly punched his shoulder, "seriously, i was actually passing off that i have a secret girlfriend. man, my father will be so disappointed."
"then get an actual girlfriend," you huff, crossing your arms around your knees as you try to hide the smile growing on your lips. he’s a pitiful liar but you’re glad that’s one of the traits he learnt from you, "then you won't have to miss me."
this time he laughs, pushing his shoulder against your own, “hyung, you’ll probably cry from shame if i found a beautiful maiden before you, so it’s okay.”
you look at him indignantly, before ruffling his hair, "wow you little rascal." you wish your words had more of an actual bite, but it’s only you who is at fault for using such terms to express your endearment too often.
"hey," he call to you, softer this time, "remember to write to me. okay?"
"i will. don’t worry."
you were barely sixteen when you left home, and you wonder if you'd ever find it again.
chapter ii ~ the boy from the north.
this has been a month of firsts and even you are not always swift on your toes. the corridors are still unfamiliar as the roads you can't help but lost your way in. perhaps, it should be understandably so, for these are not the paths you've grown to memorised within your steps. still, you know your tardiness will impress to no one, much less to your instructor, so you did well to make haste.
suddenly there’s a knock against your side and you groan, clutching at the throb of pain on your shoulder as you hiss, "what gives?"
"oh, sorry," the perpetrator says, but you can tell he's anything but apologetic. probably because his attention was better occupied with trying to hide himself against the wall, at least until his gaze falls upon you. there’s a mischievous glint in his eyes before he’s leaning into your face, lips pursed into a smirk, "hm. haven't seen you around before cutie, what's your name?"
for a moment, you considered a selection of certain word choices that would wipe off the smugness from his face permanently. but a glimpse of the guards, obviously in pursuit of someone, at the end of the path have you deciding otherwise.
"excuse me! there’s a suspicious guy over here!" you yell, and watch in satisfaction as the horror takes over his face.
"damn it," he says, immediately running off in the opposite direction while you stifle a laugh. momentarily distracted by your amusement before remembering you have other priorities yourself.
you ended up late, as you've expected to be but reality remains reprimanding. the punishment warranted this time leaves you by the yard with a mop in your hands and a bucket in the other. nothing more than chores you've done at home and for a moment you're actually content with the prospect of being able to take domestic duties into your own hands again.
"well well. looks like we meet again," a voice calls and you whip your head to the side, irritation growing once more as memories of earlier resurfaces. "i still didn't get your name cutie," he grins, also holding a mop in his possession and you wonder what offence you've made to the heavens to deserve this.
the next quarter of an hour consisted of little productivity and mostly of his insistence, "c'mon, i won't stop asking until you tell me." and patience isn't a river that runs forever, even for someone like you.
you sigh, relenting, "it's seokjin. happy? now can you please concentrate on cleaning?"
"okay, seokjin-ah," and the tone of familiarity in his voice has you seriously considering water whipping his pretty boy face, "you can call me hyosang."
you'd hoped that your streak of misfortune had ended there, but he shows up to your class the very next morning. all toothy grin as he greets you much too casually for your liking and you're still reeling from disbelief.
it doesn't take you long to finally discover he's the prince.
"are you shocked?" he says a little quieter than usual and for a moment you wonder if he was bothered by your discovery. but before you could speak, he's already wriggling his brows at you and the urge to punch his face resurfaces, "does my dashing good looks and nobility make you swoon now?"
"please come talk to me again after you've checked up on your mental health, your delusions are clearly getting worse," you smile, and then remembering to make a bow and add, "your highness," as an afterthought.
"glad we're on the same page," he replies, unwavering, much to your grimace, "cause i plan on talking to you a lot more frequently from now on." you scowl, less than appreciative of this sudden intrusion upon your comfort zones, but you have a lesson to attend to.
you do, eventually, come to find that maintaining your attention upon your instructor is a difficult task. and not just simply from your usual disdain for the rigidity of the training regime, but because a certain obnoxious prince serves as a constant distraction even from just the peripheral of your vision. you don't know why he's so fixated on gathering your attention, but perhaps if you continue to ignore his existence hard enough, he might really disappear.
(he doesn't.)
the year fly by as it's suppose to and you celebrate your first birthday away from home. you wonder how many more times you’ll have to do so with the absence of your family in the future. perhaps you’re of much too wistful thoughts for a day like this, but you’re at least allowed to be homesick no?
"hey," hyosang greets, leaning against the doorway, "someone's here to see you."
"happy birthday hyung," hoseok says, emerging from the door and you think you’d almost cried from the pleasant surprise, "c'mere and give me a hug."
three days. for three days you were allowed to take him around sightseeing and for a moment it was almost like the old days back home. this time though, there is the presence of hyosang, always accompanying you both. you’d probably would've told him to leave the both of you to your own leisure if you didn’t know it was him that arranged for hoseok’s arrival. it's irritating really, how endearing it is whenever he felt the need to push himself in-between interactions like a child prying for his mother's attention. you’d blame it on his transparency but perhaps you’re just the same.
“you like him don’t you?” hoseok whispers into your ear on the day he departs, relishing in your flustered refusal. “whatever you say hyung, you have my approval,” he grins, wrapping his arms into a hug and pats at your back consolingly. you honestly think you'd ought to kick him into the ocean.
"thank you," you whisper once the boat disappears from the horizon, staring at the setting sun.
"if you weren't such a droopy puppy i wouldn't have even considered it," he grins at you, "happy birthday, seokjin-ah."
normally you would've shot him to the ground but this time you chuckle because, and you can't believe yourself, but you're really thankful he did. maybe he isn't that bad after all.
(or was it you who preferred to think that he was?)
by now you've learnt all there is to be learnt. and as much as you've thought you'd look forward to this day, you're no longer fond of the idea of departing. but this is not a choice for you to make. you know, for you have duties of your own and so does he. (and perhaps you knew from the beginning that you couldn't be.)
yet on the evening before your leave, you finally mustered the courage to invite him to the festival, and you'd almost be mistaken if you thought his “okay” sounded more like a finally. because the both of you should be allowed at least this, no?
the evening is spent with you two in your own leisure. he treats you to the local delicacies and laughs at your stuffed cheeks. and you etch the image of his elation into your own memory; all the curves of his lips and the edges of his nose as it wrinkles in amusement. you wonder if he’s doing the same.
you don’t know how long you’ve lost yourselves into the hours but it doesn’t matter. not when he’s lacing his fingers into yours, taking you away from the festivities to the bridge where you can catch your breaths. you find yourself staring at the moon, illuminating even in it's reflection. so lost in its beauty you didn't realise he was lost in yours, so it's only in your shock when you turn to find his lips pressed again yours. the warmth that lingers longer than he did and it spreads through the both of your cheeks even after he'd pulled away.
he coughs and it's then that you realise the blush on your cheeks mirrors his own, "so this is it huh? you're really going away."
"yeah," you say, and it's almost like deja vu when you both quieten down, silence thickening the air as the hesitance that has its hold on your hearts. heartbeats pacing the seconds that passes by as you try to find the words that escapes from your grasp before the syllables even form.
"hey," he says first, and you finally breathe, "i have something for you."
he takes your hand and open your palms, placing his own hand over yours and you feel the cool of a surface against your skin. at first you marvel at the intrications of the carvings because "it's beautiful." until you noticed the strap of the necklace and realised the underlying implications and your heart sink because you know this couldn't have— this shouldn't have happened.
"hyosang.. i—"
"no, don’t say anything yet. please hear me out," he says immediately, "i don’t care about the stupid traditions or your training, i don't care how long it’ll take. i'll wait for you," he finishes, like an oath you didn’t want him to swear upon, "so please, seokjin-ah."
"i can't," you finally say, you know that. but it's only now that you realised the barb from your throat has traveled to his heart and you wanted to say something, anything else in his consolation but you don't. you can't. because this is not a wound for you to mend. he deserves the world and more and you’re not so selfish to take everything away from him. so you settle with "i'm sorry," and how you wished that you meant the whisper of your apology but you don't. you can't. because that would mean the ache in his heart wasn't mutual with yours and you're never been brave enough to lie to yourself.
the next day you're by the pier, giving your farewells to those who were present. they leave you with the same wishful bidding and gentle pats on your shoulder. all the faces you've grown to appreciate and you wonder how you have the heart to already leave, especially when you haven't even seen the one face you wanted to see. but you fought the urge to ask for his whereabouts, because perhaps this was only for the best.
you really pray that it was.
chapter iii ~ the scholar and the prodigy
faces are frequent and acquaintances blooms in abundance. you wonder, by the time of the next cycle, how many faces you'll still remember. the exceptions, however, you know, because you're not one to forget the people who'd made a mark in your life so easily. your family, hoseok, hyosang and now—
"pardon me," you hear just as you’re walking down the road, "i don't suppose you can point me towards the direction of the royal academy, i'm afraid i'm in a hurry."
"what a coincidence, i happen to be on my way there," you say, and you don’t blame him for looking at you with skepticism. you are dressed neither as formally as he was, nor did you seem to find the need to make haste despite the obvious time constraint. you smile because once upon a time you were as prompt and punctilious as any apprentice could’ve been, but now you no longer worry of such matters. speaking of which, "are you a student as well?"
"yes, well uh, something of the sort," he rambles, and you don’t know who suddenly caught his tongue, "i'm kim namjoon, pleasure to make your acquaintance."
"seokjin. kim seokjin." you reply in courtesy. it’s rare to see one as refined as him in this generation, assuming that your assumption that he’s only short a few years of your age is accurate, "and uh, we should really get going."
it is with haste that you both travel with, but you've only barely seen your destination within your peripherals by the time the first bell had struck, "oh, i think the gate’s closing soon."
"what?!" namjoon gawks, "but it's all the way up there!"
"we can still make it," you say, eyes landing on the delivery chutes and for once you're actually glad you're not in ba sing se, "would you like to give something a try?"
perhaps it should've been expected of you to provide him with an adequate warning. but it's only once he's in the makeshift kart you've bended from the surrounding earth that he finally voiced his hesitations, "i really don't think that this is a safe method of transportation seokjin-ssi. legalities aside."
"namjoon-ssi. please, it's now or never."
"i really don't consider that as one of our fondest memories," namjoon chuckles, raising a glass to his lips. you'd allowed him to tell the stories from now on if he wasn't such a horrible story teller; even when he's not sober.
"you're a terrible liar," you laugh at him, inbetween a sip of your glass, "you know that one is great."
"i only learnt from the best, but i honestly beg to differ," he says and this time you both laugh in unison, clinking your cups together into a toast and downs it at the same time, the alcohol still burning in your throat.
you still for a moment, fiddling with the cup in your fingers before admitting, "i'm going to miss all this,"
"sorrow not, my friend," he smiles at you comfortingly, "we'll meet again."
"i know," you say because you should’ve grown accustomed to goodbyes by now. for such is your fate and you've only but have to accept it. besides, you know, that when you next close your eyes. time will have already come and go.
(you blink.)
"this is jeongguk, you'll be studying under him for awhile," the sage tells you, gesturing towards a boy you doubt was even hoseok's age. the man seems to notice your uncertaincy and places a hand on your shoulder, "rest assured, he may be young but he's one of our finest instructors yet."
"thank you," you say, bowing as he leaves the two of you, presumably to your own introductions, "so... anyways, i'm—"
"i know who you are, avatar," he cuts you off, stopping in his path, "introductions are not necessary, i'd preferred it if we can get straight to the lesson. if you don’t mind."
you blink, voice softens into a murmur, "i was actually going to say i'm a little hungry but very well, i suppose."
"tell me," he begin almost immediately, stepping into the courtyard, and you wonder if he was even listening to you at all, "what do you know about fire?"
"uh," and you can tell he’s probably not the type to be amused if you say something like "it burns?" now you wish you should've paid a bit of attention to some of namjoon's ramblings, "it's... the element of..."
"—of power, yes," he cuts in again, and you don’t know whether it’s to save you from further embarrassment or whether it’s simply because of his nature, "but that doesn't mean brute force, or whatever those silly earthbenders taught you."
"power means discipline," he says, flickering a flame at the tip of his finger, "power means control. and unless you have control," and the flame grows, swirling into a fireball instantaneously under his palm and you wonder if it’ll explode, "you're not going to be much of a firebender," he finishes, extinguishing it immediately with the clutch of his fists, ember dissipating almost ethereally.
this kid doesn’t fool around. because you’re more than positive he’d just combine a lecture and the demonstration of his prowess to you simultaneously. that takes a certain amount of confidence, and you know he definitely has the expertise to come with it. (you’re also sure that there’s a whole lot of ego mixed somewhere in there too.)
"so tell me, avatar," he says, breaking your train of thoughts, "better yet, why don't i just test you right now."
(you blink.)
"so what do you do in your spare time?" you ask one day after training and perhaps you've spoken in a foreign language on accident because the child looks at you like he doesn't seem to comprehend what 'spare time' is. it almost hits you like the thunderbolts you've seen him throw when you realise that he really doesn't, "oh my god." you shake your head, "you've taught me a lot about fire and bending and all, but you know, i think it's time i teach you a lesson as well."
"i'm pretty sure the only thing you're qualified in lecturing about is how to cure back pains," is his reply and you can't believe you've actually met someone that can outsnark you, "and sorry gramps, but my bones are perfectly fine."
"stop calling me old, you brat," you grumble, ruffling his hair in revenge and he slaps it away with a resounding smack. you swear kids nowadays are so volatile.
even so, he doesn't turn you down when you offer to take him to the local festival to 'enlighten' him.
"you know an old friend once told me something about firebending," you say, in the midst of the parade, "the dragons used it to represent the beauty of life. or something like that."
he looks at you, all doe-eyed and childlike and for a moment you wonder who forced him to grow up so prematurely. but the scowl that you thought wasn't so permantly stitched onto his face quickly returns, he simply doesn't get it, "what are you implying?"
you shake your head, not before considering the fact that he would've roasted you alive for patronising him but today you're determined to make some difference around here. "tell me kid, how are you a firebender if you can't live a little?" you ask, but the question is merely a distraction for you to catch him off-guard, letting you push him into the lines of dancing firebenders; hilarity as you watch him get whisked away upon a float against his will.
you don't plan on letting him live this one down any time soon.
(you blink.)
"don't slack off on your training just because i'm not there," he reminds you once more, arms folded, and you wonder how he can still be so chastising even while you're saying your goodbyes. you were almost convinced he'd wanted to leave you with the image of jeongguk seonsaeng-nim forever, "and come visit some time... hyung."
you pause, blinking at him in surprise before your face dissolves into a smile. you grin at the faint pink dusting his cheeks; it's nice to see him acting like his age sometimes. it's on instinct that you reach over, ruffling at his hair once more despite his frown of disapproval. he doesn't swat your hand away this time.
"i will kiddo, don't miss me too much while i'm gone hm?"
"just go already," he grumbles and you laugh. perhaps some things will just never change.
(you blink.)
chapter iv ~ the nomad duo
the air nomads you find, are much more in tune with you and you don’t know whether it’s because they possess the level of spiritual maturity you wish you had or because you’ve always been a pacifist at heart, but you think you’d be quite comfortable spending the next few years here.
but even within the placidity of the eastern temple, you find that no nation is without a few rowdy individuals of their own.
just two boys. orphans, apparently. left here by their parents at the temple after discovering their bending abilities. you’ve inquired no more than that for it is not of your business. it’s only been but a few weeks, but they’re the two that made the most impression. the boisterous one, and you assume him to be the mastermind behind most of their antics, is taehyung. whilst the one that usually has a conscience, you hope, is jimin.
sometimes it starts like this:
"what's this?"
"a fruit pie. try it hyung," jimin says, letting the cool of his palm settle against his nape, "i made it myself."
you smile, taking the plate into your hands and looks at him appreciatively, "thank you, i'll— what." you halt, watching as the pie slowly swirl into the air before flying directly over into taehyung's hand, who takes a bite out of it almost immediately while jimin stared in shock.
"hm," he mumbles, heavily concentrated in chewing the piece thoroughly in his mouth before swallowing, "i think it needs a little more filling."
"you asshole!" jimin wails, immediately taking off in hot pursuit of taehyung who’d already dashed out of the scene. once upon a time you would’ve just left them to their shenanigans but you’ve seen that flash of murderous intent within jimin’s eyes too many times to know enough how this will end.
you chase them all the way to the outskirts of the temple, but to no avail, "where did they go?" the young is indeed more nimble than the old (or perhaps it's only just you who decided to gave up and returned to your stroll).
"looking for something?" a familiar voice greets, and you'd recognise his dimples anywhere, "long time no see, old friend,”
"namjoon?" you murmur like you can't quite believe your eyes, "what are you doing here?"
"i would prefer to say it was for the sake of our awaited reunion but i'm afraid i'm here due to more pressing matters," he says, acknowledging the monks that passes before leaving his gaze on you, "and it involves you, avatar."
you stiffen, he'd never use that title unless something was up, "what happened?"
"as of late, more and more spirits are appearing in the city," a man you haven't seen before spoke first, “we've tried investigating the causes but you could assume our success without a spiritual expert.”
"we've been living in harmony with them for the past two hundred years," one of the elder monk reminds him, "so why is this suddenly an issue now?"
"because," and it's namjoon who spoke this time, "these are not like the spirits of the old, they're neither from the light nor the dark," he looks at you, a mix of guilt and determination all at once, and you look back, trying to decipher his sentiments, "and i'm afraid only the avatar will be able to help us out."
"i'm sure you have plenty of men and resources to take care of such matters," the other elder monk points out, "the avatar still needs to be trained."
"you don’t understand, we need him." namjoon continues, "only the avatar has the ability to close the spirit portals, and such needs to be done to the portal in republic city or we'll risk a potential disaster."
"the avatar must stay and complete his training before he is ready to serve the world."
"the avatar's job is to bring balance to the world and maintain peace. such will be threatened without his assistance," namjoon argues back, "i implore you to reconsider."
but unfortunately, his argument continues to fall upon deaf ears, "i'm afraid this discussion is over."
"are you leaving?" you say, pursuing namjoon after the meeting concludes. you would've thought he'd stay to continue to try persuading the elder monks but perhaps you shouldn't have hoped for such.
"i'm afraid so, i need to return to the council," he says, smiling apologetically at you, "sorry my friend, i'll promise you a proper catch-up soon." you can understand why this issue takes precedent so you nod in consideration, watching as your old friend disappears into the corridors.
"you ok there?" taehyung pops in from the side immediately after namjoon left, "you'll grow a lot wrinkles if you keep frowning like that."
"is this about the spirits going wild?" jimin blurts out, and you stare at him in surprise, "sorry, we sort of overheard."
the lie is as bad as it is blatant but you’re more concerned with the current happenings. taehyung looks at you, head titling towards his curiosity, "why bother? the old man's right. just stay here and relax man. why’d you wanna go ghostbusting?"
you pause, not knowing how to respond. you know you should listen to the monks and complete your training instead, for you too have your own priorities. but—
"but you want to go right hyung?" jimin smiles and you look at him skeptically as he grins at taehyung, and there's that nagging feeling that they have way too many things up their sleeves, "we can help you."
they lead you into the stable near the break of dawn, taehyung running ahead with a saddle he'd stashed somewhere in his room and you wonder if there's anything he owns that wasn't stolen or pilfered. soon he's emerging with a giant moving fluff lugging behind him. "this is my bison, you can use her to fly to the city," he grins, patting his hand into the fur of the flying bison, and nuzzling his face against it affectionately, "wake up now, soonshim."
you approach the creature carefully, and jimin laughs at your sudden wariness, "go on, she won't bite," he assures, giving you a demonstration himself when he climbs upon the back of the bison with ease.
"ok, but uh, what are you two doing?" you ask when jimin remains in his seat whilst taehyung climbed on immediately after you.
"going with you. duh. now move over," taehyung says, suddenly pushing past you to reach his seat on soonshim's head.
"what? no! you two can’t come with me."
"actually we can. and well, we are," taehyung shrugs, settling into the bison's head as he takes the reins into his hands, "let's fly girl. yip yip." and before you can protest any further, he's taken you into the air. the sudden take-off have you clutching onto the side of the saddle on the creature's back.
"don’t worry hyung," jimin says, "we know the way. me and taehyung snea— i mean, we visit the city a lot of times for our errands."
you narrow your eyes at him and he smiles abashed. you sigh, such is the price of relying on children you suppose.
chapter v ~ the cabbage seller
by the time you've arrived to the city, night has fallen. the search for lodging starts after taehyung hid soonshim in one of his 'secret spot' and now you're affirmative that these kids have definitely played around here more than they've probably allowed to be.
"hey! i think i see an inn!" taehyung suddenly yells and you don't know whether to be impressed by his ability to shout at inexplicable volumes in an instant or worry about your endangered eardrums. you don't get the chance to decide since he's already whipping up an air scooter, ignoring your existence as he rides ahead while jimin frantically follows, hot on his trails, "stay here hyung. i'll catch him, i swear!"
"you two! wait!" you run after them and wonder if babysitting and trying to herd the yaks back home are just two kinds of the same pain. it's obvious you're not as swift as you’d desired to be on foot but you think it’s best to avoid attention in the meanwhile.
"my cabbages!" a sudden pained yell ahead has you concerned, followed by a string of curses whom you don't even have to guess to know is directed to, "get back here you fuckers!"
you pick up your pace, eventually approaching to see a man with a face as sour as his mood, trying to collect the remnants of his tattered vegetables. you don't know what someone could possibly be doing with a cabbage cart at this hour but you walk over anyways, helping him gather the unharmed cabbages into the cart.
"thanks," he mumbles, "i swear, rascals these days."
"don't worry about it," you assure him, awkwardly forcing a laugh because this is probably your fault considering they were suppose to be under your supervision.
"benders," he spat, and you detect a little more than just contempt from his tone, "always thinking they can do what they want."
you don't feel compelled to make a defence, but you also can't quite pass the prejudice, "perhaps their actions just don't always interpret the best of their intentions?"
the man snickers, like you've just said quite an amusing joke, "yeah, sure." then he looks at you, more scrutinising in his gaze this time before concluding, "you're from out of town aren't you?"
you laugh softly, looking down at your attire, as brown as it appears worn. another one from taehyung's stash of things, but it's certainly a better option than keeping the nomads' robes. perhaps he was also right when he claims it is not only of your appearance that needs to be kept 'lowkey', "is it that obvious?"
"nah," he grins, "i know everyone 'round here and your face is definitely not one i'd miss twice."
you blink, unproposed in the meaning behind his statement but the tip of your ears burns regardless. "i've only moved here recently. to be honest," you lie almost with ease. unfortunately, the severity of your plans outweights the guilt for the fabrications you've provided but you'll apologise someday.
"i see. and—oh, hey..." he says, "i don't think i caught your name," the side of his lips curl into a small smile, and he offers his hand, "i'm yoongi. also known as the cabbage seller 'round these parts. nice to meet ya."
for a moment you considered over whether the truth is still appropriate, but hesitance only results in suspicion and you already opened this with a line amongst fictions. so you quickly take his hand in yours, giving it a firm shake and find that his skin feels as soft as you thought it'd be, "i'm jin. nice to meet you... yoongi."
"jin is it?" he repeats, like he's also testing the sound of your name on his tongue, "well, if you ever need some cabbages, then i'm your man."
"i'll remember that."