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Jimin is the happiest witch in all of Yeongdeung.
At least, that’s what he would claim. He’s certainly the luckiest witch, a fact which no one would dare refute given the circumstances; Jimin has a fulfilling life, a thriving business, and four talented and stunningly handsome house husbands.
Said house husbands– though technically, they’re not legally married, so they’re really more his house partners – are his four coven-mates. The loves of his life. The moons to his sun.
His soulmates .
Currently, Jimin is drinking his morning cup of herbal tea, lovingly prepared for him by his eldest house-husband-slash-partner-slash-soulmate, Seokjin. As he sips on the tea, he sits at the breakfast nook and watches two more of his partners through the window.
Namjoon is out in the back garden, watering his plants and chattering away with a little squirrel that’s following him around. He crouches down next to his rows of veggies and herbs and caresses their leaves with a gentle, nurturing touch.
Hoseok is out there with him, adjusting the clothing line and watching Namjoon with an endeared expression that mirrors Jimin’s own.
His youngest partner, Taehyung– younger by only two and half months, as Taehyung likes to remind him– is likely still asleep, snuggled up beneath a pile of blankets.
Jimin sits in his peaceful, blissful state for a few minutes longer before it’s time to start getting ready for the day. He deposits his teacup in the kitchen sink and stops to give Seokjin a quick kiss on the cheek, watching him knead bread dough for a moment before he continues on his way.
By the time he’s dressed, Taehyung has rolled out of bed and latched onto his side, pressing sleepy, clingy kisses the the side of Jimin’s neck and across his face.
“Love you,” Taehyung murmurs against his skin, his voice deep and still raspy from sleep.
“I know, my dear. You’ve said it a thousand times in the four minutes you’ve been awake.”
Taehyung huffs out a breath. “Can’t I show appreciation and adoration for my beautiful lover?”
“Taehyung, no matter how much flattery you employ, I’m not going to stay home and cuddle with you all day. You can cuddle Joonie or Jinnie or Seokie.”
Pouting, Taehyung slides away, muttering under his breath.
Jimin finds the whole coven gathered in the kitchen a few minutes later. “I’m off to the shop,” he announces, leaning down to kiss the top of Taehyung’s head. “Today feels like a big day.”
“See you in time for dinner,” Seokjin replies, his brows raised in a manner that conveys the expectation that Jimin will be home in time for said dinner.
“Love you,” Namjoon says, bending down to press a chaste kiss to Jimin’s lips. “Let me know what herbs need a restock this weekend.”
Hoseok wraps his arms around Jimin’s waist in a quick hug. “Goodbye, Jiminie. Miss you already!”
Jimin smiles fondly at the send off, his heart bursting with happiness. He truly is the luckiest witch in all of Yeongdeung.
“Have a fabulous day, love! Go change a life,” Taehyung beams at him, still looking half-asleep. “Or two.”
Rain splashes against the train window, obscuring Yoongi’s view of the passing scenery. It’s not like he wants to see what’s outside, anyway– he’s far more interested in the destination than the journey.
As the train pulls into the next station, Yoongi tenses. He has to be on guard, even if logically, no one is going to come looking for him. But he’s not willing to risk letting his defenses down for even a moment, and especially not now when he’s so close to his freedom.
Not many people get on the train, which is already fairly crowded. The doors are about to close when a gust of wind whips through the train car, and a moment later a last-minute passenger boards.
The passenger, a young man with long, wavy dark hair that peeks out from beneath his hood, hesitates for a moment until the last boarding call announcement sounds overhead. Then, he starts to make his way down the aisle, and that’s when Yoongi glances around and realizes that all of the seats surrounding him are full, save for the one directly across from him.
The man finally approaches and gives a quick bow.
“I’m so sorry,” he asks, his voice nearly a whisper. He gestures to the seat opposite of where Yoongi is sitting. “Do you mind if I sit here?”
A human. Yoongi can tell immediately, mostly for the timid way he speaks and the unassuming way that he carries himself.
The man’s coat is soaking wet, and he keeps glancing over his shoulder, as if he’s fearful of something. Or someone.
It’s a look Yoongi is far too familiar with.
“Go ahead,” he says, trying not to sound as cautious as he feels.
He wonders what the human– the very attractive human, Yoongi can’t help but notice– thinks of him. Wonders if he can clock him as a witch just by looking at him. But then, Yoongi isn’t exactly an ordinary witch. He’s spent so much time with humans, forced to live and act as one, that he wonders if he could possibly still pass for one. He certainly knows how to pretend, anyway.
The man doesn’t seem to care about him, though, avoiding eye contact and making himself seem as small as physically possible as he moves to sit down.
Once he’s settled, Yoongi can see that he’s shivering. With big, sparkling eyes, he peers out the window, squinting to try to see through the rain. Unlike Yoongi, he seems to be very intent on trying to make out what’s outside.
The man doesn’t stop shivering, not even an hour into the ride. He keeps his hood up and hunches further and further in on himself, his arms wrapped tightly around his small frame. Every so often, he reaches into his pocket to pull out a worn looking handkerchief, which he uses to cover his mouth and nose and muffle a soft, wheezing cough or a sodden sneeze into the fabric. Afterwards, he keeps it over his face for a minute, sniffling softly before he finally lowers his hand and tucks the handkerchief back into his pocket.
Yoongi has never been one to be bothered much by germs– and there are certainly germs, he decides the longer he watches and listens to him– but he’s somewhat surprised by how polite the human is at containing them.
He’s also surprised at how strong the aching need to care is, one that settles into his chest the very moment the man sat down across from him. Perhaps it’s because he sees a little bit of himself in the man, something very vulnerable and almost pitiful. He feels it very strongly. He wants to get this human somewhere warm, changed into dry clothes, and give him a hot cup of tea.
Eventually, the man falls asleep, his cheek pressed up against the cold glass of the window. As Yoongi studies his handsome face, he’s worried to see a slight flush across his cheeks that hadn’t been there before. It makes the urge to tend to him even more intense, and he has to stop himself from leaning over and feeling his forehead to check for fever.
The stop in Yeongdeung approaches before Yoongi even realizes how much time has passed. Only five minutes before they pull into the station, the human wakes up and fumbles for his handkerchief, stifling a cough into it before dazedly blinking around the train car.
His eyes come to a stop on Yoongi, widening as if just seeing him for the first time.
“Sorry,” the man apologizes when he realizes Yoongi is watching him.
Yoongi shakes his head, but he can’t make any words come out.
“It’s– it’s the weather,” the human stutters, cheeks pink as he sniffles into his handkerchief, and Yoongi realizes that he’s under the impression that Yoongi is worried about the coughing.
Looking out the window, Yoongi tries to ignore the feeling that once again rises up in his chest, concern and something else he can’t quite name. He keeps his eyes trained on the raindrops sliding down the glass pane for the rest of the ride.
Somehow, he’s not surprised when the man stands up to get off at Yeongdeung.
Yoongi stands after him, and notices that the man doesn’t really have anything in the way of luggage. As he makes his way off the train and onto the platform, he frowns as the wind seems to pick up. In this kind of weather, he can hardly see very far in the distance.
His seatmate is only a few steps ahead of him when a violent gust of wind blows through. Everyone milling about seems to take it in stride, grabbing onto their hats and clutching their belongings tightly against their bodies to keep them from blowing away– but the human doesn’t seem to be so lucky. The wind tears the handkerchief from his hands and it’s carried in the air before landing on the ground right into a puddle of water.
Yoongi sighs. He stops, looking around the station. And then, he crouches down to unzip his suitcase, rifling around until he locates what he’s looking for– a small pack of paper tissue.
The man is just standing there, staring down at his thoroughly rain-soaked handkerchief with a terribly sad look on his face when Yoongi approaches.
“Here.” He holds the packet out.
Looking up, the man’s eyes go impossibly wide. His nose is red now to match his cheeks, and there are dark circles under his eyes that Yoongi hadn’t noticed under the dim lighting inside the train.
“Thank you so much,” the man says. Yoongi can see his fingers trembling as he takes the tissues from him. “You’re a lifesaver.”
“It’s no problem,” Yoongi shrugs.
“I’m Jungkook,” the man suddenly blurts out. “What’s your name?”
Yoongi hesitates, every instinct inside of him screaming at him not to give his name to a human – but the human standing in front of him isn’t someone Yoongi thinks he should be afraid of.
“Jungkook,” he repeats softly, the name rolling off his lips as if he’s said it a thousand times before. “I’m Yoongi.”
“Thank you, Yoongi,” Jungkook says. “I truly appreciate your kindness.”
Yoongi gives a small nod. He’s starting to get a little too wet for his liking, and the wind is chilly.
“Take care of yourself,” he murmurs softly, and then he turns and walks away, leaving Jungkook standing on the platform in the rain.
It doesn’t take long for Yoongi to get an apartment. He finds the hardware store his old neighbor had mentioned– the same neighbor who had helped him flee his captors back in Seoul– and the owner inside greets him as if he’s a resident of the village.
“Hi,” Yoongi says, timid but determined. “I’m looking for a place to stay, and I heard you might have a room to rent?”
It makes him sigh with relief when the man doesn’t even question who he is– a witch, a stranger, an outsider .
“Depends on how much money you have. You got a family?” The man asks. “Because the apartment upstairs is a two-bedroom.”
“It’s just me,” Yoongi replies. “But I have the money.”
The man nods, his voice gruff. “Alright. First month’s deposit is due now then. You pay rent on the first of the month or else you move out. No stomping around up there– I run a good business here, and I’m not looking to have some youngster ruin that.”
Yoongi bites back an amused smile and nods in understanding. He pulls his wallet out and starts to count out the cash. He hands it over, and the man walks toward the back of the store, returning shortly with a single key on a ring.
“Thank you. I really appreciate it. Do you know where I can get some groceries around here?”
The man eyes him, and Yoongi can tell he’s assessing him now that he has Yoongi’s money.
“There’s one of those witchy shops just down the street. Avoid that place, if you can. Regular grocery is around the corner and one block down.” He leans against the counter and gestures toward the door. “Use the back entrance, by the way. There’s a stairwell. I don’t want you traipsing in and out of the store all day and night. This entrance is emergency-use only.”
“Of course, sir. Thank you.”
Yoongi makes his way back outside and goes around to the back of the building. Sure enough, there’s a door, and the key turns the lock with only a little extra force. The staircase inside looks like it hasn’t been used in a while, and the apartment at the top of the stairs is similar– it’s clean enough, but it’ll need to be aired out.
Cracking a few windows open, Yoongi checks the lights, then checks the door and the locks. He’ll have to install a deadbolt and some better latches on the windows, just for a little extra safety. Still, it’s the perfect place for him to stay. The only thing that’s missing is furniture, but he’ll make do with sleeping on the floor for a while until he can save up some more money.
He sets his luggage inside the first bedroom. Then, he goes outside of the apartment and locks the door, checking it one more time before he heads out, and begins to make a mental grocery list as he descends back down the staircase.
“Chew on one of these if the nausea returns.” Jimin smiles at the pregnant witch before him. One of his hands is resting on her belly, his fingers splayed over the bump.
“She’s coming soon,” he continues. “Taehyungie thinks tomorrow, with the full moon. He tends to be right about these things– and with the sudden nausea, it seems quite likely.”
“I don’t know if I’m ready,” the witch murmurs, her eyes closing.
“Of course you’re ready,” Jimin reassures her. “And you’re in good hands with Yoonie. You have her on call already, yes?”
The witch nods, eyes fluttering open to meet Jimin’s. “Yes. Thank you, Jimin.”
“Be well. I can’t wait to meet your little one.”
As Jimin watches her go, his smile takes over his whole face. The whole village will be buzzing tomorrow with news of their newest occupant, he can already tell.
The bell above the door jingles again, and suddenly there’s a different scent in the air, one that reminds Jimin of the sea. He watches an unfamiliar man enter the shop– a witch, with piercing eyes and dark hair, his demeanor guarded yet uncertain.
“Welcome,” Jimin greets him, keeping his voice soft. “My name is Jimin. What brings you to the apothecary today?”
“Hi, Jimin.” The man swallows and glances around. “My name is…Yoongi.”
Jimin tilts his head at the hesitation. There’s something different about the witch in front of him; life has not been kind to him, to say the least. Jimin can feel the heaviness in his bones, as if it is his own burden; he takes a step backwards, placing one hand over his heart, and takes a long, deep cleansing breath.
He notices that the man– Yoongi – doesn’t answer his question. He’s likely uncertain why he’s here at the apothecary. But then, so are most of the people who come in, drawn towards the shop by some inexplicable force or longing. Jimin has seen it time and time again over the years, but it’s been awhile since he’s had a witch enter who’s seemed so lost .
“Let me make you a cup of tea.” Jimin gestures towards the armchair at the front of the shop. “Please, take a seat if you’d like. Otherwise, you’re welcome to take a look around.”
He heads toward the back without waiting for an answer. As he prepares two cups, Jimin peeks out into the shop to watch Yoongi. He doesn’t sit, nor does he look around; instead, he just stands near the entrance, as if preparing to make a quick escape if necessary.
Carrying the two cups back out, Jimin clears his throat and smiles gently as he approaches. The other witch is hard to read, but his face is oddly expressive for someone so closed off. Jimin waves another chair over, and Yoongi’s eyes widen as if in disbelief as he watches it move. It makes Jimin all the more curious, if he’s surprised by a bit of simple magic despite being what Jimin assumes to be a grown adult– a couple of years older than himself, if he had to guess.
“What brings you to the village?”
Yoongi doesn’t answer right away. He stares down into his cup of tea, his lower lip caught between his teeth, and slowly takes a seat. Eventually, he looks back up. Taking a cautious sip of the tea, he stares right into Jimin’s eyes with a confused sort of curiosity.
“I just arrived this morning, actually. I’m renting an apartment above the hardware store.”
“Oh?” Jimin can’t help the way his mouth drops open. “I’m sorry if I look surprised,” he rushes to say. “It’s just that Doyoon-ssi doesn’t usually rent to witches. He can be a bit… prejudiced .”
“You can tell that I’m a witch, then?” Yoongi asks, surprising Jimin once more.
“Were you trying to hide it?” Jimin tilts his head, eyes narrowing as he studies the older witch.
For several long moments, Yoongi is silent. Jimin thinks he sees tears shining in his eyes, but he blinks rapidly, trying to clear them before they can fall.
“I don’t feel like a witch,” Yoongi finally replies, his voice shaking.
Jimin can tell it’s the first time he’s said such a thing out loud. He sets his own tea cup down on the small table between their chairs, and scoots forward to sit on the edge of his chair.
“I don’t even know how to do any… magic ,” Yoongi confesses, whispering the last word, and Jimin feels his heart clench with sadness.
“Your abilities do not measure your worth or determine who you are,” Jimin tells him, longing to know him well enough to reach out and take his hand. Instead, he clasps his own hands together in his lap.
“I was raised as a human,” Yoongi replies, his tone bitter. “ Forced to live as one. I spent my whole life having my worth measured by my abilities and by who I am.”
“That’s why you’re here now.” It’s a statement, not a question. Jimin can tell that Yoongi not only ended up in Yeongdeung, but here in his shop, for a reason– whether or not Yoongi is intentionally seeking him out or not.
“Yoongi, let me repeat this: Your abilities do not measure your worth. It doesn’t matter whether you’re a witch or a human or a cyclops. You may not know how to do magic, and I perform magic in my sleep, but you and I are both equals. Just because you’ve been made to feel like you’re not a witch in the past doesn’t mean that you don’t deserve to feel like your true self now.”
As he speaks, Jimin can feel his magic pulsing through him, thrumming with an intense power like he hasn't felt in a long time– as if it too is longing to reach out to Yoongi. He can feel Yoongi’s magic too, desperate to escape a cage it was never meant to be in.
“How are you doing that?” Yoongi asks, his eyes shining with unshed tears once more, but this time Jimin can see that he’s no longer holding back his emotions.
“Doing what?” Jimin prompts.
“Making me feel…not so broken .” Yoongi’s voice cracks, and the tears start to fall, sliding down his face as his chin trembles.
Jimin stands to find a box of tissues. He needs a moment to compose himself, and doesn’t want to startle Yoongi by levitating items when he’s in such a vulnerable state. He locates a box and carries it back to Yoongi, who takes out a handful of the paper tissues with a grateful, watery smile.
“I want to help you, Yoongi. I want you to know that you’re not alone. I’m very glad you came into my shop today.”
Dabbing at his eyes, Yoongi sniffles. “You don’t even know me. How can you be so sure about wanting to help me?”
“Sometimes, in a world that’s so unkind, the best thing we can do is spread more kindness to combat it. And dear, I may not know you, but I know what you are capable of. I can feel it, all around us right now. It’s as strong as an ocean’s tide, and as vast as the sea herself.”
Yoongi looks intrigued by Jimin’s claim, if a bit frightened.
Jimin grins, and straightens up in his chair.
“How would you like to be my apprentice, Yoongi?”
Jungkook has never felt so miserable in his life.
For the past two days, he’s been sleeping outside in an alleyway on the east end of the village, and for two straight days the rain has been falling. He’s cold, he’s wet, he’s hungry, and he’s definitely sick again.
He had truly hoped his lingering cough and sniffles had been due to the change in the weather, but now it’s hard to deny that he’s simply ill. Currently, he’s likely running a fever on top of everything, and without a dry place to sleep he’ll probably just get worse. He can blame the weather, certainly, but the stress he’s endured is probably the biggest culprit. That, and all of the crowded trains he’s been on in the past week.
Still, Jungkook would rather be in his current predicament than where he was just a week ago– the fact that it’s only been a week is almost baffling to him. And in that week, he has spent every last penny he had saved up, which was fine when spending the money meant getting out of the hellish prison he’d known as home for the past twenty years.
But now that he’s out? He hadn’t really planned this far. Maybe a small part of him didn’t think he could actually make it to this point. He certainly never allowed himself to think too far ahead into the future, not when having hope historically only led to disappointment.
It’s the reason why now, even though he’s so physically miserable, he feels lighter than he has ever felt before, a kind of freedom that seems like something from a dream.
Or maybe it’s the fever that’s making him feel a bit lightheaded.
Jungkook hasn’t eaten a proper meal in several days now, but as he makes his way through the streets in search of something– a place to work, maybe, or a kind stranger who won’t question who he is or what he’s doing– he notices a trash bin on the backside of a building that looks to be a small café. The aroma of fresh baked bread fills the air as he approaches and he can’t help but hope he’ll be able to find some discarded food.
After a quick glance around to check that no one is nearby, Jungkook creeps toward the trash can. He lifts the lid and nearly gasps when he sees what must surely be a gift from the Gods and Goddesses– not one, but two sandwiches wrapped in plastic, sitting right on top of the rest of the trash inside.
He doesn’t waste a second. Grabbing the two sandwiches, Jungkook puts the lid back on the trashcan and starts to jog, lest someone find him near the scene of his petty crime. The streets are still fairly empty due to the poor weather, and he makes his way along without running into anyone else.
Jungkook ducks down the next alley he comes across, tucking himself up close to the wall and crouching down. With trembling hands, he inspects the sandwiches. Unwrapping one from its plastic wrap, he brings it up to his nose to smell it. Although he’s congested, he doesn’t detect any foul odor, and the sandwich doesn’t have any visible mold or anything on it. It’s a simple sandwich, two pieces of bread with butter and a slice of ham inside.
It’s good enough for him. He takes a bite, and then another, and soon the entire sandwich is gone. He looks down at the second one, but decides to save it for later, when he determines for sure that the first isn’t going to make him sick.
As he starts walking again, the sandwich sits heavy in his belly after not having eaten in so long, but Jungkook knows it’s necessary. He’s going to have to figure out a way to eat something more soon, and more importantly he’s going to need to find a way to make money so he doesn’t have to keep digging through the trash.
Jungkook’s body feels cold, but his face feels hot. He’s really going to need to find a place to sleep soon that isn’t outdoors. Even though he’s feeling marginally better now that he has eaten, he can still feel the feverish heat trying to take over his body, adding to the congestion in his lungs, his dripping nose, his growing exhaustion.
“ Eomma, I want to go to the library! ” A young child’s voice suddenly rings out.
Jungkook looks ahead and sees two people– one adult, and one child. The child’s eomma shakes her head, tugs the child closer to her so that they’re both fully sheltered under the umbrella that she’s holding, and then they duck into a nearby shop together. Jungkook pauses and looks in the direction that the child had been pointing, and without thinking, starts to walk.
The library is on the outskirts of the village. It’s a quaint building with big windows and a cheerful sign out front.
Sniffling against his endlessly running nose, Jungkook approaches the large double doors and reaches out a hand. He knows that libraries are usually open to anyone, but he hopes that he’s allowed to go inside, that he won’t be questioned or turned away for being a stranger. Squeezing his eyes shut for a moment, he pushes past the fears and lets his fingers close around the door handle, and takes a deep breath.
As soon as he steps inside the library, he’s enveloped in a cozy warmth. The library looks much bigger on the inside than it had from the outside, with rows and rows of books and a high ceiling.
“Hello!” A voice rings out, and Jungkook spins to his right to see an older woman rising from a desk piled high with books and stacks of papers.
“You’ve finally made it!”
Jungkook looks over his shoulder, expecting to maybe see someone else standing behind him, but there’s no one else there.
When he looks back at the librarian, she has her hands on her hips. “You are the candidate, aren’t you?”
“Candidate?” Jungkook manages to squeak out through his confusion.
“For the part time librarian position,” she explains, but her impatience seems to fade away, replaced by a gentle curiosity.
Jungkook shakes his head.
“Well, that certainly explains the look on your face, then.” The librarian smiles in amusement. “You’re shivering, dear. Here, let me grab a towel.”
She disappears for a moment, returning with a cotton towel and what looks to be an oversized sweater.
“It’s from the lost-and-found bin, but it’s clean and it should fit. I’m sorry to say that I don’t have any dry pants or shoes, though. People don’t tend to leave those behind in the library.”
A giggle bubbles up in Jungkook’s throat, and he bites his lip in surprise, cutting off the sound. He takes the towel and the sweater, and realizes he’s dripping all over the library floor.
After Jungkook dries his hair with the towel, the librarian turns around, and he blushes hard. He looks around the library to double check that no one is there, and then quickly strips off his wet coat and shirt, pulling the sweater over his head. It’s thick and warm, and though it’s huge on him it’s surprisingly cozy for something that’s not his own clothes.
“Thank you,” he says once he’s changed. And then, he adds, “I’m so sorry.”
“Nothing to apologize for, dear. I’ll lend you my umbrella for your journey home. Do you live far away?”
Jungkook nods and hopes she doesn’t pry further.
“Well, enjoy the selection we have here at the library. Please let me know if there’s anything I can help you find.”
With that, the librarian goes back to her desk, muttering under her breath about the importance of being on time and making good impressions.
Sniffling wetly, Jungkook pushes up the too-long sleeves of the borrowed sweater and wanders over to one of the bookshelves. He walks up and down between the rows of books in a slight daze, still feeling a bit feverish, browsing but not really looking at anything in particular. He’s just glad to finally be warm and dry, and he’s always found libraries to have a sort of calming, peaceful atmosphere that he feels at home in.
A half hour later, Jungkook is still the only person in the library. He’s marveling at the large collection of spellbooks when he hears the librarian stand up from her desk in the front and start to walk in his direction.
“Say, young man,” she says as she approaches. “You wouldn’t happen to be looking for a job, would you?”
Jungkook glances around the still-empty library, his heart rate increasing. Then, he looks at the librarian. He can’t tell if she’s a witch or a human. He’s never been able to tell, despite his parents– his wretched, horrible, adoptive parents– claiming that anyone could spot a witch based on their evil auras. He shudders unpleasantly at the thought of his parents, clenching his jaw to keep his emotions from bubbling up even as his body starts to go into flight mode at the very thought of them.
“Dear? Are you alright?”
The librarian’s question jolts him out of his thoughts, and he startles violently before forcing himself to make eye contact with her. Her expression softens at his reaction.
“The job is yours, if you want it,” she says. “Something tells me it was fate that you showed up instead of my other candidate today.”
The corners of her eyes wrinkle when she smiles. There’s a tiny flash of purple behind her gaze, one that’s gone in the next instance, so fast Jungkook might be imagining it– she could be a witch, then.
Still, Jungkook eventually nods. “Sure. I could really use a job.”
Jungkook is scheduled to work at the library on nights and weekends. It’s more of a full time job than a part time job, but it’s not like he has anything else to do with his time. He’s grateful that he won’t have to interact with a lot of people, although he’s not sure too many people visit the library during normal hours, either.
He immediately loves the job. Getting to spend time with books has always been a favorite of his, and now he gets paid to do it. At least, he’s pretty sure he’ll be getting paid. That part hadn’t exactly been discussed yet.
The only negative thing is the dust. In some sections of the library, the dust is so thick that it makes the shelves look gray and faded. He makes the mistake of blowing some of it away, and sends a cloud of dust into the air so thick that for a moment he fears he’ll never stop sneezing again. He has to step outside until he’s able to compose himself, mopping up his streaming eyes and nose with his sleeve.
For the rest of the night, every little dust particle that gets displaced sets him off on a sneezing fit. He moves around the library with the collar of his shirt pulled over his nose, making note of all the places he’ll need to clean first. It turns into making note of all of the different genres and sections of the libraries, which isn’t a terrible way to explore the library if he ignores the itchy burn that now feels permanent in his sinuses.
The library has all of the usual sections– periodicals, non-fiction, fiction, cookbooks– but it also has an impressive collection of spellbooks and a small but charming children’s section, located in a small loft to one side of the building. Three steps lead up into the landing, and there’s a faded mural painted across the wall up there, a picture of a half-naked man with wings blowing a cloud out of his mouth.
By the end of his second shift, Jungkook’s lungs are pissed off and his nose is extra stuffed up, but he doesn’t care much because he’s free. Free . He’s in a library in a far away village, wiping dust off of books, but he’s not where he came from. He’s not locked away in a windowless room, isolated from the rest of the world.
It’s the only thing that’s getting him through the fact that he’s still homeless, and still sick, and still sleeping outside in the rain.
When he leaves the library, the moon is shining from behind the clouds. He’s grateful for the break in the rain as he makes his way to the alleyway, but it starts raining again as soon as he lies down on the cold, hard ground beneath an awning that does absolutely nothing to shield him from the water. He doesn’t sleep at all that night, and in the morning he’s shivering so hard his teeth are chattering and his muscles ache terribly.
It’s a long, tortuous journey to the library in the afternoon. When he finally makes it in for his third shift, he feels like he’s going to collapse as he pushes the door open and steps inside.
The librarian is waiting for him. She doesn’t seem to notice that his clothes are wet again, or that he’s swaying on his feet, dangerously close to passing out as he stifles coughs into his sleeve.
She hands him a nametag and a set of keys. “Congratulations,” she says with a kind smile. “You’re officially a librarian.”
Jungkook hadn’t realized it wasn’t official until now, but he nods gratefully. “Thank you. I’ll do my job well.”
“I noticed you did a little cleaning last night,” she says, looking pleased. “I’m giving you your own set of keys. You’ll be responsible for locking up the library at night. I get here at eight o’clock in the mornings, so make sure to turn off all of the lights before you leave and make sure all of the windows are closed and latched. The small key will work for the closet in the back– you’ll find a handful of cleaning supplies in there.”
Jungkook listens, but he only catches half of what she’s saying. His chest feels tight and his knees are shaking. He nods a few times, and it seems to be enough, because before he knows it the librarian is packing up her things and waving goodbye.
As soon as he’s gone, he hurries over to the desk and sinks down into the chair, his legs wobbly and his head spinning. He rests his head on the desk and takes a few deep breaths, but they’re not as deep as he’d like, and it makes him cough a lot.
He doesn’t clean anything for his entire shift. In fact, he only sits behind the desk, trying not to fall asleep, and watches the seconds tick by on the clock until his vision gets blurry. When his shift is over, he barely has it in him to stand back up and make his way around to latch and lock all of the windows.
As Jungkook is turning out the lights, he remembers the librarian's words from earlier.
I get here at eight o’clock in the mornings .
The words tumble around in his brain for a moment. Realization dawns on him, and it gives him new life, his legs suddenly steady under him and the feverish fog lifting just enough for him to think about it. As long as he leaves before she arrives, he can stay here in the library overnight. He can sleep here.
Jungkook gets right to work closing up the library. It’s a little past midnight now, but no one comes anywhere near this late anyway. Then, he stands there in the dark for a moment and contemplates what to do next.
He peeks into the supply closet, but immediately wrinkles his nose– he’ll be sneezing all night if he tries to sleep in there.
Still, he doesn't want to be out in the open, just in case. Then, he remembers the small loft on the opposite side, where the children’s section is. He makes his way to the steps and climbs up, going over to the corner where there’s a small reading nook, complete with pillows and a stuffed teddy bear that looks about a hundred years old.
Jungkook lies down on the floor. It’s still a bit dusty, and his eyes water when he moves the pillows around. But it’s indoors, and it’s dry , and he can feel himself drifting off already, pulled down by the exhaustion and the illness and the weight of the past couple of weeks.
He closes his eyes, and for the first time in a long, long time, Jungkook falls right asleep without a second thought.
Sleeping in a library isn’t as quiet as Jungkook imagined it would be.
He supposes it has to do with the fact that the building itself is old, and it’s located on the edge of town, closest to the forest that surrounds the village to the south. He can hear things creaking in the night, the distant sound of owls and other animals, and although it's a bit unsettling in the beginning it soon becomes his nightly lullaby.
He gets more sleep in the first few nights than he’s gotten in months, and although it’s not the best sleep at first– he’s still feverish, his body fighting hard to rid itself of whatever virus he’s ill with– it gets better on the fourth night, when his fever is finally gone and the congestion in his lungs isn’t as suffocating.
With his first payment for working at the library, he’s finally able to buy himself food. Falling asleep on an empty stomach isn’t easy, but falling asleep after having the best bowl of stew and fresh baked bread he’s ever tasted– it feels like something out of a dream.
He spends a lot of time in the various restaurants and cafés around the village. Part of the reason is because he wants to explore more, to see what the village and the people who live there are like. But part of it is because he feels like he can spend more time sitting and nursing a hot cup of coffee and a small plate of food in a different place each day, instead of making it a habit to linger in the same café where it would be easier to be recognized.
Jungkook still has a favorite place within a few days. It’s the very same café he’d stolen sandwiches out of the trash from, on the east end of town– called Zephyr Café . The sandwiches are even better fresh, and the coffee comes with unlimited refills, and the older gentleman who owns the café has given him a free cookie both times he’s been in there.
It’s on his fifth day of being in Yeongdeung that Jungkook is finally able to buy himself some new clothing and basic necessities. He buys a small bag too, to keep everything in, and it feels nice to have his own belongings again, no matter how few there are.
There’s a very peculiar shop that Jungkook passes by each day as he walks to the library– one that makes him feel very nervous. It’s called Anemoi Apothecary , it’s it’s obviously run by witches, and as hard as Jungkook tries to push down his learned prejudices that witches are evil, because he knows they’re not , he still finds himself crossing the street to walk on the opposite sidewalk instead.
It makes him feel guilty, his stomach churning and his face heating with shame. And it’s silly, because the whole village is full of witches– some of them are running the stores and coffee shops that he’s been frequenting, even. And he’s certain that the librarian is a witch, although he’s never seen her do any magic.
It’s just that this particular apothecary is extra witchy, and every time he looks at it he feels a strange pull, as if the magic inside is affecting him somehow.
Jungkook isn’t even sure if that’s possible or not. Again, all he really has to go off of are his adoptive parent’s baseless warnings and intolerant beliefs that he was indoctrinated with his entire life.
But he also knows that the feeling he gets when he so much as looks in the direction of the Anemoi Apothecary isn’t nothing , and so he avoids being too near. Just in case.
Today, however, he’s passing by said shop on his way to work, and he’s too focused on making sure not to spill the paper cup of coffee he’s carrying there with him that he forgets to cross the street. One minute he’s looking down at the cup and the next there’s the sound of a bell, and he looks up to see a short man– a witch – stepping out of the shop.
It startles him so badly that his breath catches in his throat. Suddenly, he’s coughing, his fingers clutching at the paper coffee cup, and he can feel the hot liquid spill out onto his fingers.
“Ow!” He yelps, trying to regain control of his breathing. Tears sting at his eyes and he nearly drops the entire cup.
“Oh, you poor darling,” the witch says, voice tinkling like a windchime.
He’s right next to Jungkook, his hands reaching out, and if Jungkook didn’t have to cough again he’d step back, try to move away– but the cough takes over, his lungs still cracking with lingering congestion, and he turns his head just enough to aim his coughs toward his shoulder, tucking his chin to his chest and hoping more coffee doesn’t spill out.
The witch carefully pries the cup out of his hands and sets it down on the sidewalk. A moment later, something cold washes over Jungkook’s fingers and the back of his hands, and the sting from the burn disappears instantly, replaced with a tingly feeling along his skin.
“That’s a nasty cough you have there, sweetheart. What on earth are you doing outside in this weather when you’re sick?”
Jungkook looks down at his hands, swallowing down yet another round of coughing. “I’m not sick,” he protests defensively, but the witch doesn’t seem to hear him, peering at his face as if assessing him.
“Would you like to come in for a cup of tea?”
Jungkook starts to shake his head before his brain even catches up. “N-No thank you,” he stutters nervously. “I have to go to work.”
“You’re the new librarian, aren’t you? Oh – I’m so sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable. It’s just that word travels very fast around here.”
Jungkook swallows hard, his palms growing sweaty. He’s still holding his hands out in front of him, though the tingling has faded away completely. He slowly nods his head, and the witch looks at him with an endeared grin.
“Oh, you’re such a darling,” he nearly coos, making Jungkook’s cheeks heat up. “You know, I’ve been meaning to see if the library carries a few spellbooks I’m needing to borrow. I’ll send my apprentice over there tomorrow to check it out.”
Jungkook nods again, unsure of what to say.
The witch gestures at the coffee cup on the ground. “Let me buy you a new cup of coffee,” he offers.
Jungkook’s eyes widen in surprise. He quickly bends down to pick up the cup, which is half empty at this point. Jungkook can’t really figure out where the spilled coffee went, or how exactly the witch had stopped the burn on his hands so quickly.
“I– I have to go to work,” he whispers, and then he sidesteps the witch and rushes away, his heart pounding in his chest.
When he reaches the end of the street, he glances back over his shoulder, but the sidewalk is empty and the Anemoi Apothecary looks like any other ordinary building, unassuming and deceptively plain.
Jungkook doesn’t know when he falls asleep in the library that night that it’s the last time he’ll be sleeping there.
He wakes the same way he’s been waking each morning, with the sunrise, but this time there’s something different, something that fills him with an inexplicable sense of dread. It takes him a moment to figure out what it is, and when he does his eyes widen in horror.
“Who’s up there?” A voice rings out– the librarian.
Had he overslept? Is she here early? Either way, Jungkook’s body tenses and he scrambles to sit up, his heart beating too fast as footsteps approach. He contemplates trying to hide or sneak away, but there’s not really an escape and he’s too big to hide behind any of the shelves up here.
As the librarian climbs the three steps, Jungkook rises, his cheeks heating with shame.
“Jungkook, dear,” she says, mouth dropping open in shock. “ What are you doing here?”
It only seems to take a minute for her to put it together, her eyes darting to his bag and his shoes and the pillows scattered on the floor.
“Don’t you have…a home? A place to sleep?”
Jungkook stares at the floor, his cheeks flaming. He can’t make his mouth say anything.
He waits, for her to yell at him to get out. To fire him. To call the authorities.
Instead, she blows out a heavy sigh and takes a step closer, her hand coming up to cup the side of his face in a gesture so tender that it brings tears to Jungkook’s eyes.
She waits until he looks up to speak. “You can stay one more night,” she says, her voice firm but not unkind. “After that, you’ll need to find somewhere else to sleep.”
Jungkook sniffles, blinking away the tears, and nods frantically. “I’m so sorry–”
“I’m sorry to interrupt,” a voice says, and Jungkook jerks in surprise, his head snapping up. “Do you still open at eight?”
There’s a man standing in the middle of the library– Jungkook hadn’t even heard anyone come in, but the librarian doesn’t seem the least bit fazed.
“Yes, dear. What can I help you find today?”
With one last lingering look at Jungkook, the librarian turns and goes back down the steps to greet the man.
Jungkook almost gasps when he gets a better look. He knows that man. It’s the same man from the train– Yoongi .
“I’m looking for a few spellbooks,” Yoongi says, his eyes flitting over to Jungkook for just a second before he reaches into his pocket to pull out a paper list.
Jungkook continues to fight back tears as he gathers his belongings, straightening the pillows in the reading nook and slipping his shoes back on. He waits until the librarian is leading Yoongi towards the spellbooks on the opposite wall before he makes his way towards the door.
The sun is shining when Jungkook steps outside. It’s the first time since he arrived in Yeongdeung that it hasn’t been rainy or cloudy. The sunshine feels warm against his skin, and he closes his eyes for a minute before he begins walking, soaking it all in.
He doesn’t make it very far before he hears someone running up behind him. He spins around in alarm to see that it’s Yoongi, jogging towards him with a large stack of books in hand.
“Hey!” Yoongi slows to a stop in front of him. “Sorry, I wanted to catch you.”
Jungkook tilts his head to one side expectantly.
“Um.” Yoongi shifts the stack of books under one arm and rubs the back of his neck with his free hand. “You’re…I met you, on the train.”
Jungkook nods. “Yes, I remember.”
“Jungkook, right?”
Nodding, Jungkook can’t help but smile. “Yoongi, right?”
“Right. I hope you’re feeling better.”
“I am, thank you,” Jungkook replies, looking down at the ground. He’s sure it’s not very believable, not with the way he still sounds so congested.
Yoongi clears his throat. “I’m so sorry, but I couldn’t help but overhear…if you need a place to stay, I just got my apartment– it’s not much, but there’s room. I mean, a whole extra room. And it’s close to here. It’s close to everything, really–”
“Why?”
Yoongi’s eyes widen in surprise. “Why, what?”
“Why would you help me? Why would you let me stay with you?”
Jungkook doesn’t mean for it to come out sounding so accusatory, but he can’t help his disbelief.
A smile spreads across Yoongi’s face, and he gives a small chuckle. “Sometimes, in a world that’s so unkind, the best thing we can do is spread more kindness to combat it.”
For a moment, neither of them say anything, and then Jungkook laughs .
It comes out of nowhere– he’s surprised by it, surprised at how easily the laughter pours out of him. It feels like he hasn’t laughed in– well, he can’t even remember when the last time he laughed was. The feeling is exhilarating, and when he sees Yoongi smile in response, his gums peeking out from behind his lips and his eyes crinkling, it makes Jungkook feel another emotion, one he cannot name but is certain he’s never felt before.
“What’s so funny?” Yoongi asks after a moment, his smile turning into a slight pout.
“That sounded really cheesy,” Jungkook replies, slightly breathless.
“Well.” Yoongi huffs out a breath. “I didn’t come up with it myself,” he says defensively.
Jungkook laughs again, his face almost hurting from the smile that’s stretching across his face.
Yoongi shifts the weight of the books in his hands, and tilts his head toward the street that leads to the main part of the village.
“Come with me,” he says. “At least come look at the apartment before you turn me down.”
Jungkook feels himself relax under Yoongi’s gaze, a tension that he hadn’t even realized he was carrying leaving his body.
“Okay,” he replies, nodding. “I’ll come see the apartment.”
Yoongi smiles, and together they start walking, falling into step with each other as they make their way down the street under the shining sun.