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Chapter Text

The rain came fast and without warning.

Jungkook tightened the fraying strap of his backpack and hunched his shoulders as he darted between awnings and storefronts, trying to make it to his third job before the clock struck three. Another late shift. Another seven hours on his feet. His socks were soaked through already and he could feel his toes going numb.

He cursed under his breath as a car passed too close to the curb, splashing water straight up his legs.

"Of course," he muttered.

He ducked beneath the overhang of a bookstore, shaking out his hair, trying to gather what little composure he had left. That's when it happened.

A hand. A touch. Light, accidental - someone brushing past him to step under the awning as well. And it burned.

Not like fire. Not pain. Something else. Something deep. Something real.

Jungkook flinched and turned - his heart hammering and met the wide, startled eyes of a man who, hesitantly at first, broke out in a kind smile and it was like sunshine blended in his aura.

"Sorry," the stranger said softly. "I didn’t mean to - "

He stopped.

So did Jungkook.

There was silence. The kind that descends before a storm.

A warmth blossomed in Jungkook’s chest. A glow behind his ribs. As if something inside him had finally clicked into place. It felt like a secret name whispered just for him.

"You--"

“You felt that, right?” the man whispered.

Jungkook nodded, slow and dazed. “Yeah".

The air hung thick between them, heavy with something unspoken. Jungkook’s mouth was dry, but he couldn’t look away. His heart pounded so loudly he swore the man could hear it.

The stranger blinked, once, twice, before a stunned kind of wonder spread over his face.

“Wow,” he whispered.

Jungkook swallowed hard. “Yeah.”

For a long moment, neither said anything. The rain kept falling around them, a silver curtain hiding them from the rest of the world. The stranger didn’t move away and neither did Jungkook.

“You’re-” the man tried again, then smiled sheepishly. “This is…sudden.”

Jungkook gave a nervous laugh, quiet and uncertain. “Is this... real?”

The man extended a hand. His movements were slow, careful like he didn’t want to spook him.

“I’m Hoseok,” he said gently. “Jung Hoseok.”

Jungkook stared at the hand for a second before reaching out to take it. His fingers trembled as they touched and that same warm, buzzing feeling danced along his skin like a secret shared through skin.

“Jeon Jungkook.”

Hoseok’s eyes softened at the name, as if trying it on in his mind, testing how it felt to know something so personal, so intimate.

Jungkook pulled his hand back quickly, tucking it into the pocket of his hoodie. “I--I have to go. I’m late for work.”

“Where do you work?” Hoseok asked, stepping slightly aside, as if preparing to walk with him.

“Just…nearby. Small cafe.”

“You’re soaked.”

Jungkook didn’t respond.

Hoseok hesitated. “Can I…see you again?”

Jungkook glanced up, startled. “What?”

“I know it’s fast. Weird. But I felt it. You did too, right?”

Jungkook bit his lip. The rain behind them blurred the city lights. The heat from that brief contact still lingered on his skin, and for the first time in years, he felt like someone had seen him.

“I did,” he admitted. “But- " He faltered. “You don’t even know me.”

“I’d like to,” Hoseok said quietly. “If that’s okay.”

Jungkook opened his mouth. Closed it. The warning bells in his head were already screaming. Don’t get involved. Don’t ruin this too. Don’t let anyone find you.

But Hoseok was still watching him, so earnestly. Not demanding, not expecting. Just offering.

"...Okay,” Jungkook said, barely above a whisper. “But…not yet.”

Hoseok nodded, as if he understood. “Soon, then?”

Jungkook gave the smallest smile.

"Soon.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 2: Paper Cups and Quiet Lies

[6 days later]

Their first meeting after that was cautious. Hoseok invited him to a quiet tea house on the outskirts of Mapo. A place with steamed windows and handwritten menus and little notes from guests tacked to the wall.

Jungkook arrived late. Not out of rudeness, he just stood outside for ten minutes trying to decide whether to walk in or run. He wasn’t supposed to be here. Not really.

The man he was here to meet, the one he’d touched by accident, the one who smiled like sunlight breaking through cloud cover - was far, far out of reach.

But Hoseok had texted him the day before.

[Hoseok, 1:11 PM]: I’ll be at Hyo’s Tea near Mangwon
Market tomorrow after 4. I’ll leave a spot across from
me. No pressure, okay?

[Hoseok, 1:12 PM]: Just…I'd really like to see you again,
Jungkook-ah.

Jungkook hadn’t replied. He almost didn’t come. But now he was here.
And so was Hoseok.

When he finally entered, Hoseok was already there. Dressed in soft cream tones, hair swept back, a gentle smile blooming the second he looked up.

“You came.”

Jungkook nodded, slipping into the booth. He kept his hoodie on. He always did. Seeing Jungkook hesitate to start the conversation, Hoseok took that off his shoulders, though he too, was feeling nervous.

“So,” Hoseok said finally. “You’re a student?”

Jungkook nodded. “Seoul Arts. Graphic design major.”

“Oh, nice! I’ve seen a few exhibits there. Hard program to get into.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook said, voice smaller. “Lucky, I guess.”

Hoseok tilted his head, sensing something underneath, but didn’t press. “I used to teach dance there, before I started my studio. Just part-time.”

“You’re a dancer?”

Hoseok grinned. “Don’t I look like one?”

Jungkook’s ears pinked a little. “Yeah. I mean - you move like one.”

They talked. About music. About tea. About how Hoseok once tried to take ballet for a week before realizing his knees hated him. About nothing and everything.

But never about the bond.
Not yet.

Something warm passed between them, like sunlight through sheer curtains. Hoseok kept pouring tea, asking soft questions, never pushing. He led the conversation, feeling Jungkook's shyness but making it so easy for him to fit into this warm moment of just, being there - together. He also asked Jungkook to call him hyung because there's no way he's going to get rid of him now! Hoseok again told stories about a clumsy student who once kicked him during a warm-up. About Jimin, his close friend who choreographed like it was religion. About his cat. About his garden.

Jungkook mostly listened. And when he spoke, he lied.

Jungkook lied, but only about the big things. He said he was studying graphic design at Seoul Arts University - which was true. He didn’t say he was on scholarship, not yet. Not that there's anything wrong with that, he worked hard for it after all. But from what he had heard and seen of Hoseok, he realizes that the gap between him and Hoseok is too big like a chasm and that fills him up with something akin to - shame? Maybe. Not that Hoseok was flashy or carrying wealth on his person rather it was just how he talked, sat, held himself. So he didn’t say much yet or that he worked at three different places just to afford the cheapest housing. He also didn’t say that there's a pain in his shoulder which hadn’t been from sleeping wrong.

He didn’t say anything about... He couldn’t. Won't - he decided at that moment.

- * - * - * -

Near the end, Hoseok leaned in slightly, folding his hands together.

“I’ve been thinking about it,” he said quietly. “The bond. What it means.”

Jungkook, feeling his insides twist, looked down at his tea. “Yeah.”

“I’ve never met a soulmate before. We - my partners and I, we didn’t think we, or most of us ever would.”

“Partners?”

Hoseok smiled, found and complicated. “Yeah. There are six of us. I mentioned Jimin, right? We’ve been together for years. The others too...We are soulmates - just not in the way society says we should be. But that doesn't matter because we are happy. And...We weren’t looking for more.”

“Oh.”

Jungkook’s stomach curled. He hadn’t expected that but it made sense. Hoseok was warm and beautiful. Of course someone had already loved him right.

“I don’t want to scare you,” Hoseok said quickly. “I just…I don’t want to hide anything.”

Jungkook smiled a little, even as something dark coiled in his chest because he, on the other hand, is hiding from Hoseok, a lot.

“I get it,” he said. “Thank you. For telling me.”

“You’re not scared off?”

Jungkook looked at him. “No.”

But he was terrified.

- * - * - * -

Jungkook tugged his hoodie up tighter. “Thank you. For the tea.”

“Thank you for coming.”

They stood awkwardly for a second, like neither knew what came next.

“I’d like to see you again,” Hoseok said. “If you want.”

Jungkook hesitated. Then nodded.

“I do...Hyung." They both shared a soft smile, feets growing apart even though hearts were lingering.

Chapter Text

Two weeks later – Hoseok’s dance studio, early evening

The studio smelled like sweat, rosin, and fresh-cut wood. The windows fogged lightly from the heat inside, and the mirrors were streaked with faint traces of chalk from past rehearsals. Jungkook stood in the corner near the stereo, awkwardly holding a bottle of water, watching Hoseok teach.

It wasn’t his first time visiting.

But it was the first time Jungkook let himself stay past the second hour.

Hoseok had invited him gently, like he always did. No pressure. No assumptions. Just—

“Come by if you want. The studio’s quiet on Wednesdays. You can sit and draw, or just watch.”

 

So Jungkook had come. Hood up, backpack slung low, sketchpad clutched close to his chest.

He told himself it was just to watch. Just a break from the weight of his week.

But when Hoseok danced, everything else blurred.

He moved like light. Like rhythm lived inside his bones. Sharp, fluid, controlled. And when he laughed - at his own slip-ups or when the beat caught him off-guard - it filled the whole room like warm wind.

Jungkook found himself sketching. Fingers moving before his thoughts could.

“You’re staring,” Hoseok said, breathless, after finishing a set. He grabbed a towel and grinned at Jungkook.

Jungkook flushed. “You’re…good.”

“You always sound surprised.”

“I’m not,” Jungkook muttered. “Just distracted.” Hoseok made a face like he wanted to continue his teasing and Jungkook hid a small smile. Over the weeks, they have gotten more comfortable. Hoseok just had that kind of effect. It's always been hard for Jungkook, to open up to someone - but with Hoseok, talking, smiling, being heard - it just felt natural.

Hoseok walked over, still catching his breath and peeked at the sketchbook so Jungkook tried to shield it.

“You drew me?”

“Don’t look--!”

Hoseok laughed, holding his hands up. “Okay, okay! I won’t peek.”

He settled beside Jungkook on the bench, both of them facing the mirror. Their reflections looked almost like strangers - Hoseok glowing, Jungkook small and hunched in a hoodie far too big for him.

“You look tired,” Hoseok said softly.

Jungkook didn’t answer.

He was always tired.

 

- * - * - * -

Elsewhere in the studio building 2 of the others were roaming around. This very building served as both Hoseok's Dance studio and the other half was under Yoongi's - his work as a producer, kept him confined here most days and late nights. He was a successful one at that - even recently achieved an award for his skilled production which they have yet to celebrate, as Yoongi cooped himself in for another masterpiece in working.

But today, they planned a movie night and a full on unwinding session. Seokjin just launched his 3rd branch of "Epiphany", his baby (restaurant) and now they had two celebrations to get to. Namjoon just flew back yesterday from his overseas seminar, but the young Professor would soon lose his head in another one of his papers or the quirky romance novel he's hooked onto recently - they can't let that happen! Today is date night, and if it's the 3rd date night this month - well, no one's complaining.

So Taehyung stepped in through the side door, shoulders wrapped in a thick scarf, scrolling through his phone. “Hyung?” he called absently. He too had a long day of soul-draining class and also a photoshoot. But work never tired him much, loving being able to work as a model where he was loved for his self-expression and a style unique to himself. He was on a mission to collect their hyungs, sent by Jimin - the contemporary dancer finally was able to clear his busy schedule but also had a paper to work on, so of course Taehyung let him rest and embarked on his journey to come find the others. “Namjoon-hyung said you left your car so I came to pic--"

He froze as he caught sight of the figure in the corner.

Just a glimpse.

A stranger in a gray hoodie, face shadowed by the studio lights, head bowed over a sketchpad. He barely registered him. But something about the posture, the profile - the energy, felt…

Unfamiliar.

Unsettling.

“Hobi-hyung?” Taehyung’s voice echoed again.

“Back here!” Hoseok called.

Taehyung passed the room slowly, gaze flicking again to the boy on the bench.

Their eyes didn’t meet.

But Jungkook’s shoulders tensed the second Taehyung appeared in the mirror behind them.

And when Taehyung stepped out again with Hobi in tow, the boy had already left.

---

Later that week – Sinsa Shopping Mall

Jungkook was picking up his shift at a boutique cafe, cramped between a bookstore and a flower shop. He wore a black apron over his clothes, hair tucked into a cap, barely looking up as he worked.

He didn’t see Yoongi at first.

Yoongi had come by to pick up a rare poetry collection from a local vendor. A quiet afternoon, just how he liked it. The cafe had soft jazz playing and no line, so he stepped in for an espresso without thinking.

“Tall iced americano,” he muttered.

Jungkook’s fingers froze on the receipt machine.

That voice.

He didn’t lift his head. But he knew that voice by heart now. Hoseok-hyung always let him listen to his partner, one of 5, Yoongi's music and he even let him in on some raps by him that Jungkook immediately fell in love with. He has seen Yoongi in the studio in passing but he's not sure if Yoongi did.

Yoongi stood only a few feet away. He noticed the barista didn’t meet his eyes and didn’t smile. Just nodded, printed the receipt, and handed it over with the briefest glance.

Yoongi’s gaze lingered. Something about the kid - slightly hunched, careful, silent - struck him as familiar.

He took his drink and left.

But the feeling followed him down the escalator.

 

- * - * - * -

Later that night, Jungkook's phone vibrated, a text from Hoseok.

[Hoseok, 10:42 PM]: The others are asking more questions. They know I'm not telling them something.
[Hoseok, 10:42 PM]: I haven’t told them about you.
[Hoseok, 10:43 PM]: Yet.

[Hoseok, 11:03 PM] : I was thinking about telling them tomorrow. Is that ok?

 

Jungkook stared at his phone in the dark of his room. The only light was from the screen. His hands ached from washing dishes all day. His shoulder throbbed from a misstep earlier that week.

He didn’t respond.

His fingers hovered over the keyboard, and then…stopped.

He curled under the blanket. Silent. Cold.

Chapter Text

He told himself it was just dinner.

That if he smiled politely, bowed low enough, spoke softly enough, didn’t fumble with his utensils or spill anything then maybe..maybe they’d see he wasn’t a threat. Maybe they'd see the person Hoseok saw.

He even bought flowers. Clutched them all the way on the subway, careful not to wrinkle the wrapping.

He stared at the expensive door, at the sleek numbers beside it. A hallway that smelled like polished wood and money.

It wasn’t fear. Not exactly.

It was...a tremor just under his skin. Something that lived in his throat and clawed against his ribs.

He knocked.

 

-*-*-*-
(The day before the dinner)

Jungkook was patiently waiting and his head was bobbing up and down whenever the bell at the cafe door chimed. Patiently - it was an exaggeration or plain out lie. If Hoseok was even 5 more minutes late, Jungkook was sure to bite through his lip or turn over the table with his constant leg jerks. Then finally! His savior arrived.

"I'm so sorry, Jungkook-ah. Traffic was crazy!" said Hoseok with a sheepish smile while sliding in the seat next to him. Well, he was smiling. So, it meant it wasn’t bad news, right? He's not here to cut all ties - he can't have already realized how useless Jungkook was and how he was better off without having to drag his dead weight... right?

This has been all that's going through Jungkook's head since Hoseok called last night saying that 'We really need to meet up tomorrow, not something to discuss over a phone call'. So here they are now. The moment of truth.

"Did..did something happen with your mates, Hyung? Did they...not take it well?" said Jungkook, already bracing for what came next.

Hoseok - sighed, paused and gently held his hand all in one breath. The silence was weighing on his heart but the warmth of the physical touch already helped deflate Jungkook's tensed shoulders. Ok. He was ready. He knows what's coming nex-

"They want to meet you"

Wait.

 

"What?"

"I said they really want to meet you, Jungkook ah" Hoseok beamed at him. Like it was not just Jungkook who was loosing sleep over how the others will take to him or not. And he can see it now. The fond smile Hoseok graces him with is tinged with relief, he too was as much concerned as Jungkook was. Would they accept him? Would they really give him a chance? Twin thoughts plagued them equally. But it seems Jungkook and Hoseok, tied by the red strings of fate, really can hope to hold on to the strings, if only, a while longer.

Jungkook finally smiled.

Maybe.

Maybe it was not all as hopeless as he thought.

...

He couldn’t have been more wrong.

 

-*-*-*-

(3 days earlier)

Hoseok was anxious. Rightfully so. They were all having a movie night, yes. And on the surface, it all looked like any other day. Long day of work and all of them coming together at the end of it to share in some moments of peace. But today. The silence was not one that calmed the mind but it was one that whirled like they were in the eye of the storm. Like a moment of stalemate, like if one of them just inched their bodies a few centimetres even, the snow globe was going to upturn. Hoseok couldn’t take it anymore so he just -

"We need to talk"

Someone scoffed. Probably Jimin or Yoongi but when he looked at them they were all looking at him calmly. Surprisingly, it was Jin who broke the silence.

"Finally! We were almost worried that you were planning to shut us out forever. Not that we deserve an explanation or anything. We're just your mates, partners, It's not really important that you tell us everything or share your off-days with us instead of spending it with some random stranger." Hoseok winced. Jin ranted more often than not when he's been keeping too much inside for too long. The elder's sarcastic comments are not as much meant to hurt him as it is meant to portray how hurt he himself is. Hoseok thus decided that he will not draw this out.

"I met my soulmate. The 'stranger' that you all have seen - he's not - he's not a stranger at all. He is my soulmate and I want you all to meet him". Hoseok put that all out maybe in less than a breath and then it was a moment of silence before all hell broke out.

Jimin, Jin and Yoongi all simultaneously sprang out of their seats. Namjoon, though still eerily silent, just looked at him with a confused and...disappointed face. Hoseok felt a flash of guilt, he tried to never hide anything from his partners and Namjoon was the first to know if he ever did. But what caught Hoseok off guard the most was not the other's outbursts but Taehyung's stern voice that seemed to cut through them all.

"And was hiding this from us for so long, your idea or your precious 'soulmate's'?" The words were calm but filled with just as much venom. But Hoseok held strong.

"No, Jungkook never wanted to hide it. He's not one to lie. It was me. I wanted to..I don't know what I wanted. Maybe I wanted to see for myself first? And now that I have, I really want you all to meet him too. I know how you all feel about soulmates but please, everyone just, just give him a chance. Ok? He's not like you think. He's such a kind kid, hardworking and really shy.. He--"

"So just a few days with this kid and now You're like it's just us who don't care for the soulmate bullshit? Huh, hyung?! Have you already forgotten what this freaking fate-scam has done to us? To me? Yoongi-hyung, Jin-hyung? Taehyung? Or do we all matter so little now compared to your dear star-struck soulmate?!" Jimin cried, his body visibly trembling with the amount of anger it was coursing with. Taehyung didn’t say anything else but wrapped an arm around Jimin to soothe him.

"Please Jimin! How could you think that? You all mean the world to me. I love you and nothing can compare to it but- " Hoseok was cut off again by Yoongi - "Yet it didn’t dawn on you once that, you, sneaking around with a complete stranger - letting him in our space, letting him take you away from us, letting him make you keep secrets with us - would hurt us? Did that kid really brainwash you this muc--"

"Stop!" Hoseok, for the first time that evening, couldn’t keep his calm anymore. He wanted them to listen to his heart too, otherwise he will combust. He loved his mates but them constantly attacking Jungkook, even though he was not here, Hoseok can't let that happen.

"I..I know I was wrong keeping this from you for this long. And I am sorry, I really really am. But please don't make such comments about Jungkook when you haven’t even met him. And I know that what happened to us before..soulmates - has been something that terrifies us. But everyone, please believe me when I say - Jungkook is not like them. He's so special and different. He's... " Hoseok took a deep breath and continued.

"I know you don't trust him and you don't have to. But I hoped that you would all have faith in me enough to at least give a chance to me, to my heart..to chase something I want. But I was wrong. I..I was wrong. You don't trust me at all."

Silence prevailed for a while.

Hoseok waited, for them to say something - anything really. But when they didn't, he swiftly left the apartment, the front door slamming shut. Behind him, he left everyone in stunned silence.

And maybe... Guilt.

-*-*-*-

(2 days earlier)

Hoseok was startled when a hand landed on his shoulder in the late afternoon while he was lost in a video choreography run-through. When he looked back, he was met with Namjoon. They looked at each other for a while and then Hoseok sighed, going to sit down beside the mirror. Namjoon followed.

"We would like to meet him," Namjoon said without much preamble. Hoseok sputtered and then said,

"What?"

Namjoon looked at him, a little amused and repeated "We want to meet him, Hyung." He paused and then started again, "When you left last night..we were all really upset and...soon we realized that we were not being fair to you. And we do trust you hyung. We were all just..."
Namjoon sighed, "With what happened last time, we are just scared, Hyung. And we don't want you to be hurt, any of us, to be hurt again". Namjoon looked at Hoseok - like he wanted Hoseok to see his side too. And Hoseok did, he really did. That's what loosened his shoulders.

"I know, Namjoon-ah. I am also sorry, for causing so much hurt, for all of us. But..but Jungkook, I really want to give him a chance and no matter how much I care about him, I can't do that without letting you all be aware of it all. I really hoped that you guys, if only for me, would give him a chance. Because I promise Namjoon, Jungkook - you will not regret him." Hoseok didn’t know what else to say. He just, he was ripped between the loves that he has decided for himself against fate and ironically - a love that fate has so deeply binded him to. And he just couldn’t choose. No. He wouldn’t.

"Did you..really mean it? Do you all really want to meet him?" Hoseok asked softly. Namjoon just wrapped an arm around him and replied, "Yes, Hoba. Jin-hyung has already taken the maknae's out shopping. You know how he gets, he'll make sure to cook up a storm for dinner. So make sure the kid comes to our home ready to be fed till he can't breath," Namjoon joked, trying to lighten the mood. Hoseok took it for what it was and melted into the warm hug. "Ok, Ok I'll tell him. Shit, I need to meet him and invite him. Jungkook will be so relieved. He was worried too, you know? I -"

"Thank you, Namjoon-ah" Hoseok said at last. "Thank you for giving him a chance"

Namjoon, not saying anything more, just gripped his hand warmly.

 

---

But Hoseok didn’t know why...something cold settled in his stomach.

 

-*-*-*-

(Present day - Dinner at the OT6 home)

The apartment was warm with yellow light, the long dining table set like a magazine spread. Jin had cooked, he always did when things needed to look perfect. Hoseok was fluttering, excited, carefully placing the last of the side dishes, adjusting the chopsticks twice.

“He’s coming up,” he said, eyes shining, phone still in hand. “Please…just be nice, he's a little shy at first.”

Yoongi didn’t answer. Namjoon offered a neutral nod. Jin folded his arms.

Jimin laughed softly from the kitchen bar. “Of course, hyung. We’ll be perfect gentlemen.”

Taehyung didn’t look up from his wine glass. “Sure. Let’s meet the golden boy.”

The knock came like a whisper. Hoseok flew to the door.
And there he was - Jungkook.

Clean shirt, simple pants, his hair falling slightly into his eyes. He held a small bouquet in one hand. Wildflowers, uneven, clearly handpicked or bought from a roadside stall.

“Hi,” he said, voice soft. “I hope I’m not too late.”

“You’re just in time,” Hoseok beamed, stepping aside to let him in.

The moment Jungkook entered the room, the temperature dropped.

Eyes on him. Watching. Measuring.

He bowed politely, hands tight at his sides. “Thank you for inviting me.”

Namjoon nodded once. Jin offered a thin smile. Jimin sipped his drink.

“I brought these,” Jungkook said quietly, holding out the flowers. “I didn’t know what to bring for a dinner like this.”

“They’re wild,” Jin said, accepting, but without much warmth. “Interesting choice.”

“I like wild things,” Jungkook replied, the tiniest lift of a smile.

Yoongi hummed. “Of course you do.”

Hoseok laughed, too loud, trying to bridge the sudden stillness. “Let’s eat! Jin-hyung made galbi. It smells amazing.”

They sat, awkwardly arranged.

Jungkook found himself between Namjoon and Jimin. Across from Jin. Hoseok sat beside him, an anchor- but distant now.

The air smelled like grilled meat and disapproval.

---

The meal began quietly. Chopsticks moved. Soup was ladled. Jungkook stayed silent, eyes flicking up only when spoken to.

“So,” Namjoon said mildly, “how did you two meet?”

Hoseok opened his mouth to answer, but Jungkook beat him to it.

“It was raining and we bumped into each other. We, um, we were running from the rain and ran into...each other.” A shy smile. Jungkook winched - hoping it came out not as anxious as he sounded to himself.

“Fated meetings...a soulmate thing,” Jin said, not unkindly, but cold.

Jimin tilted his head. “Do you believe in that stuff?”

Jungkook hesitated. “I…do.”

“Even when there’s money, fame, power involved?” Jimin asked, leaning closer. “That doesn’t ever… influence the bond?”

Hoseok blinked. “Jimin - ”

“I just mean,” Jimin continued, voice still light, “a lot of people might want to be someone’s soulmate. Especially someone successful. Rich. Famous. Handsome. Generous.”

Jungkook’s hand stilled around his chopsticks.

“I didn’t know who he was,” he said softly. “When we met. I didn’t even know his name.”

“And yet here you are,” Taehyung murmured.

Before Jungkook could disect what that meant -

So,” Namjoon began. “Tell us about yourself, Jungkook.”

His mouth went dry.

Just like in oral exams. Like when he was made to repeat things he didn’t understand just to mock the way he said them.

“I’m…studying graphics design. Seoul A University."

Yoongi raises an eyebrow. “Didn’t realize they let in undernourished strays.”

Jungkook blinks.

“Yoongi,” Hoseok snaps gently.

Yoongi shrugs, feigning innocence. “I was joking.”

Jimin added, seemingly amicable, "I heard something about you being a hard-worker. Hobi hyung is always praising you!"

Jungkook nervously, "Hyung is just kind. I, um, I work part-time, just a few shifts.”

“How many is a few?” Yoongi asked.

Jungkook hesitated. “Two.”

Taehyung let out a low whistle. “Busy boy.”

“I… need to support myself. Seoul is not cheap.”

“Scholarship?” Namjoon asked, with a note of genuine curiosity.

He nodded, heart pounding. “Yes. Full. Based on merit.”

“Ah,” Jin hummed. “No connection. Impressive.”

“Very,” Jimin added with a gleam in his eye. “Some people really know how to get lucky.”

Jungkook blinked. “I’m not sure I—” He cut himself off. He could feel it, the dread that has settled deep the very moment he stepped in. But he ignored it, when he saw Hoseok's bright smile, - he ignored it again now, seeing how that bright smile trembled around the edges.

The food sat untouched on his plate. He tried to eat, couldn’t taste anything. The conversation moved around him.

---

Jungkook tried to sit through the dinner. He tried to hold his breath, smile ever awkwardly, and tried to not pay attention to how the others avoided involving him in conversation. Like..like he didn’t even exist there. Just a bit more. He can get through this. For Hoseok.
Only until Hoseok himself shuffled out of his seat, giving Jungkook's thigh a reassuring pat when he looked at him with veiled panick.

"Just going to get the desert out" and Hoseok moved out of sight into the kitchen. Just a few steps away but Jungkook felt like he was left stranded in space. And then -

Jimin’s voice rang, sharper this time. “So. You really didn’t plan it?”

Jungkook, startled - said, “Plan what?”

“This,” he gestured vaguely between Hoseok's direction and Jungkook. “The whole soulmate angle. People can be very clever when they want out of poverty.”

Jungkook froze.

“I-I’m not trying to-"

"Where exactly do you work? I swear I saw you at three-four different locations - well, you do blend in with the crowd", Seokjin said nonchalantly, commentary on his appearance aside, their changing questions gave him whiplash.

“Yes. The cafe around the street. And some shifts at the mall..sometimes." Jungkook choked out.

“Ah,” he nods. “Humble beginnings.”

“I don’t mind. It pays rent.”

“That's all you want from Hoseok?” Jimin asks, finally looking at him. “Help with rent?”

Jungkook freezes.

“I didn’t -"

“Of course not,” Taehyung cuts in. “It just looks like that from the outside, no?”

“I care about him,” Jungkook says, low. Not pleading. Just… trying to be heard.

Taehyung, biting into a rice wrap, said, “Just…odd, isn’t it? How fast these connections happen when one side has nothing to lose.”

Yoongi chuckled - low, cold. “And everything to gain.”

The breath stuck in Jungkook’s throat.

 

---

What did I think would happen?
That they’d welcome me?
That I belonged here?
That I could sit at their table, breathe their air, and not reek of everything they hate?
I should’ve known. I did know.
But I still came. Like a fool.

---

“I’m not here for money,” Jungkook said finally. His voice was paper-thin. “Or anything like that. I just… I really care about him.”

Silence.

Jin set down his glass with a click. “It’s easy to care when you’re offered a lifeline.”

Jungkook blinked once. Twice.

Jimin smirked. “Don’t look so shocked. We’re just curious. You are, after all, the one who’s disrupting six lives.”

“I didn’t ask - "

“No, but you didn’t exactly walk away either,” Yoongi said. “Even when you saw how we felt.”

Jungkook looked down. “I didn’t come here to ask for anything.”

“No?” Jin asked. “No ambition? No dreams about what comes with being his soulmate?”

“I have dreams,” Jungkook said quietly. “Just not ones that involve stealing someone else’s life.”

Taehyung leaned back, arm draped across his chair. “Maybe it’s fun, being the center of attention.”

 

I-” Jungkook swallowed. “That’s not it."

Jimin tilted his head. “So what is it?”

"Enough.”

They all turned.

“Why are you doing this?” Hoseok placed the desert on the table, his hands trembling with anger. He demanded. “He’s been nothing but respectful. Kind. And you treat him like he’s dirt under your shoes.”

The silence was sharp.

Jimin looked at him.

“I’m serious,” Hoseok said, voice firm. “What is wrong with all of you?”

“You wanted us to get to know each other,” Jin said coolly. “That’s all.”

“No,” Hoseok snapped. “He’s been nothing but patient. He brought you flowers. He thanked you. He didn’t ask for a damn thing. And all of you - this was supposed to be a chance.”

“It was a chance,” Jimin said. “We’re just not blinded by a spark.”

Taehyung raised his glass. “To sparks.”

Yoongi didn’t speak.

Namjoon’s gaze drifted sideways, unreadable.

"He’s your soulmate,” Jin said, with an air of finality - not even tinged with the barest of emotions. “Not ours.”

Hoseok burst out again -“You don’t have to love him. You don’t even have to like him. But at least have the decency to treat him like a person.”

“He’s playing you,” Jimin said flatly, no longer minching his words. The mask of welcome, however shambled before, completely fell down.

“No,” Hoseok said. “You just refuse to see him and-”

" Hyung"

Jungkook stood, quietly. “It’s okay. I should go.”

Hoseok turned to him, startled. “Jungkook - wait, you don’t have to—”

“I should,” he insisted, barely uttering the words. Vision slowly blurred with suppressed salt water. Not here. Not now, he can't break down. At least this much he owes Hoseok.

“Thank you for the dinner."

He bowed. Lower than before. Like he could fold himself out of the room.

---

Hoseok found him by the elevator. His shoulders were shaking. But when he turned, his face was dry.

“Sorry,” Jungkook said. “I just...”

“No,” Hoseok whispered. “I’m sorry. This was not how it was supposed to go. They promised..."

“It's not your fault,” Jungkook said, pressing the elevator button. “Hyung...people like me… aren’t meant to sit at tables like that.”

The elevator doors opened.

He didn’t look back.

-*-*-*-

When Jungkook rushed out of the house - not home, not for him - never, he scrambled to wear his shoes. Just as he was about to stumble out he noticed them.

The flowers he brought. Discarded, in the trash can. Right at the entrance.

 

Jungkook realized how futile it all was.

 

He was never even a consideration.

 

Hope had been a cruel trick from the very beginning.

Chapter Text

The apartment was quieter than it had any right to be.

No one said anything after that dinner - not that night, not the next day. Not even in the low, habitual tones that used to fill their shared space with warmth. Conversations faded into nods. Glances were sharper, shorter. It was as if something had broken across the dining table and splintered between them.

No one mentioned Jungkook.

But he lingered anyway.

Not in name, but in the discomfort. In the cold leftover soup Hoseok refused to clear from the fridge. In the crumpled napkin Jimin found shoved behind a cushion. In the awkward tension that followed Hoseok every time he walked in after being out - alone.

Because he had started seeing Jungkook again.

Not right away. Jungkook hadn’t answered his messages for days. Hoseok had waited through the silence, typing and deleting texts, hovering outside Jungkook’s apartment complex once, then leaving without pressing the buzzer.

He had given up - almost.

Then, one rainy afternoon, his phone lit up with a single reply.

[Jungkook, 03:56 PM]: Okay.

-*-*-*-*-

Jungkook wasn’t sure if it was courage or pure desperation that let him keep meeting Hoseok.

They met in little places. Unremarkable corners of the world. A quiet tea shop, the place they first officially met up, where the music stayed low, where the smell of honey drowned out the coldness in his chest. A bookstore with chairs no one sat in. A park bench where no one looked twice. Hoseok didn’t ask too many questions, and Jungkook didn’t offer too many answers. It worked. They steered clear of the dance studio or any place where...the others could cross paths. For the time being. This was not hiding, no. Rather - just them trying to build anew, take some space. Give each other and the others the most crucial thing - time.

Their conversations were quiet, soft as tissue paper. Jungkook listened more than he spoke, his voice still tentative, like the weight of the dinner confrontation still hung heavily on his mind. Hoseok filled silences not with chatter, but with comfort. With presence. With hands warm enough to remind Jungkook, that he was here - he cared.

 

Jungkook didn’t reply at first.

Hoseok’s messages sat unread for hours. Then a day. Then two.

No dots, no delivered tag. Just absence - like silence made digital. Hoseok waited anyway, checking his phone with a restlessness. Every minute carved into him like the tick of a blunt knife.

[Hoseok, 01:04 AM]: Are you okay?
[Hoseok, 01:16 AM]: I'm so so sorry... I just. I never meant for you to face them like this. I will apologise for them again and again but I know it makes no difference.
[Hoseok, 01:18 AM]: But please...don't cut me off.

[Hoseok, 03:07 AM]: Jungkook-ah...I still want this. Us."

 

No answer.

Hoseok tried again, softening his words, giving Jungkook space inside them. He left voicemails this time. Hoping the yearning in his voice would reach him.

[Hoseok, 02:45 PM]: "I know you’re hurt, angry even. You have every right to be."
"You don’t have to say anything. I just want to see you again."
"Please. Even just once more... Give me one more chance. I can make it right. We can make it right...together. Just...please"

And eventually, the response came. Four days later.

Just a single word.

“Okay.”

Hoseok didn’t push. He only sent back a time and place. Quiet. Familiar. Safe. And bit by bit, they found comfort in stolen moments again. Like back when they spent time learning about each other before the dinner incident went down. They had yet to learn so much about the other even now. So they started again. Another chance.
Fate should allow them that much.

-*-*-*-*-*-

The others saw it in glimpses.

Yoongi caught them once through the studio hallway glass - Hoseok ducking out in a hoodie, Jungkook just a few paces behind. No words were exchanged, but the image burned in Yoongi’s mind - the way Jungkook had stayed close, like a magnet pulled to Hoseok’s warmth.

Jin had passed Jungkook at the mall cafe entrance. Their eyes met for a fleeting second. Jungkook looked down immediately. Jin said nothing.

Taehyung passed Jungkook once by the university gates. Jungkook froze. Taehyung didn’t even flinch.

He just walked by.

Didn’t look. Didn’t speak.

Jungkook hadn’t expected more.

But it still stung.

-*-*-*-*-

Jungkook sat on the floor by the mirror, sketching while Hoseok stretched. The light from the window hit only half his face. He looked smaller than usual. Tired. The sleeves of his hoodie swallowed his hands.

“Have you been sleeping?” Hoseok asked, not for the first time.

Jungkook didn’t look up. “Some.”

“Night shifts again?”

A pause. “Yeah.”

Hoseok crossed the floor and sat beside him. Close, but not touching. “You’ve been quieter.”

“I don’t want to be a burden.”

“You’re not.”

Jungkook didn’t answer. Just turned the page in his sketchbook and started a new drawing - something abstract. Lines too sharp to be anything soft.

A beat of silence.

“I feel like I’m making your life harder,” Jungkook added. Quiet. Honest. “You don’t have to keep pretending I’m - worth the trouble.”

Hoseok’s heart squeezed painfully.

“You are.”

“I know you think that.”

“I know it.”

Jungkook looked away

---

Jimin looked up from his phone one evening and asked, no one in particular, “Is Hobi-hyung still going out with him?” The way he said “him” was sharp, like a cut he hadn’t realized he’d made.

Yoongi didn’t answer. He just stared at the stovetop as water boiled over.

They knew. They all knew.

But none of them said a word.

They walked around each other now, stepping lightly, like speaking Jungkook’s name would crack open something ugly and raw. Jin left early. Namjoon stayed up too late. Jimin started texting in the bathroom. Taehyung slammed his door one night and didn’t come out until morning.

No one brought it up. But when Hoseok left again one evening with his jacket half-zipped and that particular heaviness in his eyes, Namjoon muttered just loud enough, “So it’s a thing now?”

The silence afterward felt accusatory.

And yet...none of them stopped him.

Jungkook hadn’t come back after that dinner to ask for a way in, to try to make them see him - but he hadn’t left either. He hovered at the edges - just like the pain they pretended wasn’t there.

Namjoon lingered longer than needed near the practice room windows once, watching Hoseok come in late. He didn’t ask where he’d been. Hoseok didn’t volunteer it.

They all noticed the way Hoseok’s phone stayed turned down during meals. The silence between them was no longer filled with sharp words - only the kind that hurt more for being unsaid.

Everyone was walking on eggshells now.

No one brought it up. No one confronted Hoseok. But the tension curved in every corner of their home. And Hoseok - he had grown cold to the others too. Not in cruelty, but in distance. Like some invisible boundary had been drawn, and he no longer let them step past it. Every time they tried to ask where he was going, he simply said, “Out.”

And they let him.

Because guilt had begun to bloom in the quiet.

And none of them yet knew what to do with it.

---

It started with Yoongi.

He wasn’t loud. He never had to be. But silence, like glass stretched too thin, eventually breaks. And Yoongi was tired of their living space feeling like a graveyard.

Hoseok was slipping away - bit by bit, moment by moment. And no one dared ask why.

Until now.

---

“You’re not gonna tell us where you are going again?”

Yoongi’s voice echoed low across the living room, where Hoseok was slipping on his jacket.

Hoseok paused. His back remained turned. “Does it matter?”

Yoongi stood up from the couch, slow but sure. “It does to me.”

Silence.

Namjoon looked up from his book. Jin stopped halfway through chopping onions in the kitchen. Taehyung froze, halfway to his room with headphones around his neck.

The house held its breath.

Hoseok turned slightly, eyes shadowed but sharp. “Then ask directly.”

Yoongi crossed the space between them in three steps. “You’ve been seeing him.”

A beat.

“I have,” Hoseok said. Calm. Honest.

Jimin flinched like the words slapped him.

Taehyung looked down.

Jin gripped the counter harder.

Only Namjoon remained still, watching carefully.

“And you didn’t think to tell us?” Yoongi said, quieter now. Not accusatory - just tired. “After everything?”

“After everything?” Hoseok echoed. "Oh, you mean the night where you all ganged up on Jungkook and ridiculed him, embarrassed me and acted like you did it for our good? My good?", the thinly veiled anger in his voice now slipping out.

"And you're still going to pretend like this isn’t affecting everything?” Taehyung’s voice cracked slightly - not loud, but strained, like a violin string pulled too tight. “Like we’re not walking around in circles because of it...because of him?”

Jin glanced up sharply. Namjoon set his mug down with more force than necessary.

Jimin stood up but didn’t move closer.

“I’m not pretending anything,” Hoseok said calmly, finally turning to face them all. His eyes were bloodshot. “You all made up your minds that night. I didn’t.”

“He doesn’t belong here,” Jin said. The words were soft, tired, but they hit like a stone. “You saw how uncomfortable he was. He doesn’t even talk.”

“He tried to,” Hoseok shot back. “You just didn’t listen.”

“Why are you still holding on to him?” Jimin asked, more quietly than the rest. “It’s not like he wants to come back. It's not like he's making an effort to actually clear his image of what we feel about him. No. Rather he's isolating you, guilt tripping you to fall for his pity party and doing the very thing that we feared - drawing a rift between us. And you're letting him!"

Hoseok’s jaw clenched. “You still accuse him of everything where it's not even his fault that I've been staying away! Don't you see? You guys are still not taking into account how you, by insulting him, insulted me as well! You don't even know him and I know! I know how we all felt about soulmates but I really hoped you’d give me, if not him, a chance. That's all I asked for! But no! It looks like you don't even care!"

“Neither do you" Yoongi muttered.

Silence again. This time sharper.

Hoseok’s voice was steadier than he felt. “What I do know is that he’s alone. And that no one else seems to care."

Namjoon spoke finally. “It’s not about caring. It’s about the damage.”

Hoseok turned to him slowly. “What damage?”

“To us. To him. Look at us, Hobi. We’ve never been like this before.”

“And whose fault is that?” Hoseok snapped. " I begged you all, to just look at him through me. He's not like the others. He's not a liar and he's not out to hurt us. He himself is hurting. If you would just give him the chance you'll see his kindness, see what a good kid he is. How much he needs us, needs me. But You cast him out even before he step a foot in our lives fully! When you know.. You know he's a part of mine now. I'm his soulmate dammit! Just like you all are mine!"

The words landed. None of them answered.

But the weight didn’t lift.

 

-*-*-*-*-

Days passed. The tension in the house didn’t thicken nor lessen much. But...it did shift.

“Let me guess,” Yoongi said from where he lay sprawled across the couch, eyes half-closed. “You ran into him.”

Jimin, coming back from the dance studio, dropped onto the armrest beside him. “He’s still there."

“Still?” Namjoon asked without looking up from his book.

“He and Hobi went out,” Jin added. “Came back with takeout. Like a date.”

Yoongi scoffed. “Romantic.”

“I don’t get what Hoseok sees in him,” Jimin muttered.

“Something he’s not getting from us?” Jin offered, sharp and dry.

Namjoon finally glanced up. “You think that’s what this is?”

“Maybe,” Jin shrugged. “Or maybe he just wants to save someone.”

Jimin rolled his eyes. “He can save better people.”

Yoongi didn’t respond. But something about his silence didn’t feel like agreement.

---

In the studio, Jungkook sat in the corner again, sketchbook in his lap.

He didn’t say anything. But he watched.

Hoseok danced.

No choreo. Just movement. Fluid. Freestyle. Something between rhythm and memory.

At some point, he stopped. Breathless. Looked over.

“You okay?”

Jungkook nodded.

Then, hesitantly, he said, "You make it look easy.”

“It’s not.”

Jungkook smiled softly. “I know.”

Hoseok crossed the room, sat beside him.

“Tell me something real,” he said gently.

Jungkook blinked. “What?”

“Anything. One real thing.”

A long silence.

Then...“I don’t remember my mother’s face.”

It wasn’t what Hoseok expected. He froze.

“She died when I was five. Or maybe she left. I don’t know. The orphanage never told me. They said it wasn’t important.”

A pause.

“But sometimes, when I’m really tired, I think I hear her voice. In the sink. In rain on the windows.”

Hoseok didn’t answer.

He just placed his hand beside Jungkook’s - not touching. Just there.

Jungkook didn’t pull away.

 

-*-*-*-*-

Hoseok had waited that day - like usual - at their spot in the cafe. Same seat. Same lukewarm coffee going cold in his hands. He had gotten used to Jungkook arriving quietly, a shadow in the doorway, never early but never late. But this time, Jungkook didn’t come.

Hoseok waited patiently. He needed Jungkook right now. Hoseok felt drained. He just hoped the others would see Jungkook for who he was. The soft-spoken, shy kid who stuttered when he was excited or anxious, who drew like emotions were a burst of colors at his command, who listened to Hoseok's worries with kind eyes and warm hands even though he was drowning in tiredness. Who urged Hoseok to forgive his partners, give them time to heal their hurts, like he himself was not hurting by those very partner's thorns.

His phone stayed dark. No apology. No explanation.

Hoseok didn’t text first.

Instead, he sat there for twenty minutes longer, just in case, before slipping his phone into his pocket and heading out into the gray.

 

-*-*-*-*-

 

It's been three days since Jungkook last replied to Hoseok. Hoseok's depressed mood was clearly visible to the others as well. Though they have not really made up but after the last fight, something seemed to changed. They still walked circles around each other but slowly they were getting back to a less hostile air.
The fact that Hoseok was unable to get in contact with Jungkook for a while left him in a bit of a slump and his youngest partners took this chance to slowly warm up to him again. They still didn’t acknowledge Jungkook's existence in their daily fabric of life but a bit of normality was coming back in the six partner's lives.

They didn’t mention nor talk to Jungkook if they came across him but they were at a stalemate. They knew that Hoseok was meeting up with him. And It's not that they gave their blessing or anything... It’s just that - they were taking an observant position... Almost like, debating within themselves about giving Jungkook a chance or not.

It was one of those days when Hoseok finally got a reply from Jungkook at around one rainy evening.

[Jungkook, 06:36 PM]: Hyung, I'm really sorry for not showing up on Wednesday and not calling you back. I just...I was really slumped with work and classes. And.. Just everything. Please forgive me?
[Hoseok, 06:38 PM]: I'm not going to say that I didn’t mind because I did. I was really really worried Jungkook-ah. You just disappeared on me. I was really scared that...you were not gonna talk to me again.

[Jungkook, 06:39 PM]: Hyung...even though that's what I should do, or should have done by now, I really can't, hyung. I know I'm bringing nothing but trouble for you and...your partners. I was scared...that you’ll grow to hate me. And... These past few days I even thought of maybe stepping away...but I really couldn’t do it. I really miss you hyung. You...mean a lot to me. I'm sorry.

[Hoseok, 06:41 PM]: Don't apologise for not giving up on us Jungkook. And as much as my partners mean the world to me and I want everything to go back to how it was before...You mean a lot to me too.

[Hoseok, 06:43 PM]: Don't worry, they don't know you yet. When they will see you like I do, everything will fall into place. All of this misunderstanding will clear up soon. We'll figure this out, ok? Can we meet up today? I really missed you too.

[Jungkook, 06:44 PM]: I can't today, Hyung.
[Jungkook, 06:45 PM]: I actually have a test tomorrow. So I need to study hard. I'm really behind on this course. But tomorrow, can we hyung? I'm sorry. I want to meet up soon too.
[Hoseok, 06:46 PM]: No need to apologise, Kook. You focus on your studies. I'll pick you up after You're done tomorrow ok? Also, get some sleep soon. You need rest too.

[Jungkook, 06:47 PM]: See you tomorrow, Hyung...

 

---

[Jungkook, 06:47 PM ][Unsent] I'm sorry. Please Don't leave me, Hyung.

 

-*-*-*-*-*-
It’s past 12 a.m.

Hoseok is humming something under his breath, arms wrapped in a jacket too thin for the chill night year. After he talked with Jungkook, he finally felt his heart lighten again. He was so worried about him and turns out the little one was just slumped with exam week. Hoseok, now much relieved, insisted on going out for some night time snacks. Taehyung followed, half out of boredom. Jimin tagged along. They were still not completely over the hurdles but they have returned to companionable silence. Actually, the six of them after a long while had agreed on a movie night which Hoseok too, reluctantly, agreed to. So here they were, scavenging for movie snacks.

Hoseok opens the door to the corner store.

---

The fluorescent lights buzzed quietly overhead. Rows of instant noodles, half-stocked shelves, and cooling units lined with bottled drinks.

Jungkook stood behind the register, a beige apron tied loosely over his hoodie, hair tucked under a cap.

His feet ached.

His head throbbed.

His shift was almost over.

The bell above the glass door jingled - and Jungkook looked up automatically, ready with a mechanical smile.

Then he froze.

Hoseok stepped in.

Followed by Jimin.

Then Taehyung.

They stopped halfway into the store, like they'd just recognized him.

He didn’t breathe.

“Oh,” Hoseok said, startled "Jungkook…”

Jungkook’s heart slammed once, hard, against his ribs.
He opened his mouth.
Nothing came out.

Jimin’s arms cross.

Taehyung tilts his head.

Hoseok takes a step closer. “You - work here?”

Jungkook nods, quickly. “Only sometimes. Night shift. It’s..uh.. I just started recently.”

Hoseok paused and said, "You said you had an exam tomorrow?"

“I do,” Jungkook said quickly. “I just... I had work today too.”

Hoseok confused says, "You didn’t.. Tell me you picked up more work. You’ve been exhausted working two shifts, now this? Kook, You'll fall sick..."

None of them say it, but the shame crawls up his throat anyway.

Taehyung’s gaze flickers to the faint discoloration on Jungkook’s neck.

“I just... I didn’t want you to worry.” Jungkook finally says.

Jimin scoffs.

 

Then the door opened again.

And this time, it felt like the temperature dropped.

A tall man stepped in. Handsome. Dressed in navy blue scrubs, hospital ID still clipped to his collar.

He carried a small takeout bag in one hand.

“Oh,” he said, smiling brightly. “There you are.”

Jungkook froze.

The man walked forward without hesitation, reached across the counter, and gently placed the bag down.

“You haven’t eaten, have you? I figured.” He smiled again. Warm. Familiar. Easy.

Then - before Jungkook could stop him - he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Jungkook’s cheek.

Soft. Routine.

Jungkook flinched, but didn’t move away.

The room dropped into stunned silence.

Hoseok blinked.

Jimin stared.

Taehyung tilted his head, very slightly.

“Ah - sorry,” the man said with a sheepish laugh, noticing the others. “Didn’t realize you had company.”

He smiles politely.

Jimin blinks. “Juntae-ssi?”

“Ah, Jimin-ssi!” The man beams. “It’s been a while! How's Namjoon-ah doing? Is he here?”

“He-he's doing well and no, he's not. Just us.” Jimin says slowly, warily. “You know...Jungkook?”

“I mean, I'd hope so by now” Juntae laughs, giving a playful grin, the hand resting on Jungkook’s back lowering to encircle his waist,

"We’ve been together for four years now after-all."

 

And just like that

 

In a heartbeat

 

Everything shifted beyond repair.

Chapter Text

Jungkook’s face was pale. Hands curled tight behind the register. He didn’t speak.

Taehyung’s arms crossed slowly. Jimin stared straight at him.
“I see,” Jimin said coolly. “Four years, huh?”

"Yes, time sure flies, huh, Kook-ah? Juntae looked at Jungkook endearingly. "Anyway - didn’t mean to interrupt.” Juntae tapped the counter and continued, “Eat something, okay?” Then, to the others, “Nice to meet you. I got to go now.Take care.” Then He left with another jingle of the door.

Jungkook didn’t say a word.

Because what could he say, really, when someone else had already spoken for him?

The silence that followed wasn’t empty.

It was full. Of tension. Of disbelief.

Jungkook could feel it pressing against his skin.
And somewhere beneath it all - a slow, rising dread.

Jungkook finally took a glance at Hoseok and it only broke his heart more. Hoseok looked like he’d been punched in the chest. But before Jungkook could even utter his name, a voice sharp enough to cut ice sliced through the silence. Jimin.

“You lied.”

“I-I didn’t—”

"Four years,” Jimin repeated. “That means you were with him this whole time.”

“It’s not—”

“Don’t,” Taehyung snapped. “Don’t lie now.”

Jungkook’s lip trembled. “I didn’t mean--”

“You told Hoseok you were single, that you had no one, that he was the only one who-!,” Jimin cut himself of with anger. Then stepping forward, venom dripping from his every word,

“You let him think he meant something.”

“I didn’t ask for this,” Jungkook whispered.

“But you didn’t stop it either,” Jimin shot back. “You knew. You knew how Hobi felt.”

Taehyung’s spoke then, his tone was quite but lethal. “Hoseok-hyung trusted you. So much that he even fought with us for you. But turns out...You were two timing all along.”

“No!” Jungkook gasped. “It wasn’t—It’s not like that.”

“What is it like?” Jimin asked coldly.

Jungkook shook his head. “I just—I couldn’t tell you—”

Jimin said again, "What, did you think you could use Hoseok's kindness and play up your big dreams? Juntae-ssi not enough of a big fish for you? No, tell me, what was the target really? Breaking him away from us? Or no, better yet, did you think You'll use Hoseok to get into our lives and make a lifestyle out of it? Leave your struggling to survive troupe behind?"

“No—” Jungkook gasped, eyes darting helplessly to Hoseok. “Hoseok-hyung, I swear—”

 

“Don’t call me that.”

 

The words hit like ice.

Jungkook’s breath stilled.

Hoseok’s voice was calm, but cold. “Why did you lie, Jungkook-ssi?”

 

The formal suffix cracked something inside him.
Jungkook reeled.

 

You’re not mine.

You never were.

“Why?” Hoseok repeated, quieter.

And Jungkook…He couldn’t answer. His mouth moved. No sound came out.

He looked so young in that moment. Pale, small, in his oversized hoodie that looked like it was hiding him from the whole world. Hands trembling just above the register.

“I…” he whispered. “I didn’t know how…”

“You knew enough to hide it,” Taehyung said flatly.

“I didn’t mean to,” he choked.

“But you did.” Hoseok whispered but the pain was loud enough to break his eardrums.

Jimin gave a short, bitter laugh. “Poor, humble, hardworking boy - turns out you’re just another liar with pretty eyes.”

Jungkook flinched.

“I bet Juntae-ssi doesn’t even know,” Jimin added, voice razor-thin. “Should we tell him? Let him know how his boyfriend’s been spending his nights?”

 

“Don’t,” Jungkook whispered, going ghost-white.

 

Taehyung’s eyes narrowed. “Why not?”

 

Jungkook said nothing.

Didn’t cry.

Didn’t plead.

Just stood frozen in place, like something caged.

 

Jimin scoffed. “Pathetic.”

Taehyung shook his head, "Let's go."

They turned and walked out.

 

All but Hoseok.

He lingered a moment longer.

Looked back.

Jungkook finally met his eyes. And in that look, Hoseok saw something that didn’t make sense.

 

Fear.

 

Not guilt.

Not shame.

But fear.

 

Still, he said nothing.

 

He left too.

 

-*-*-*-*-

 

The air felt colder.

 

Hoseok didn’t speak.

Jimin was fuming. “He’s trash. Four years. Four. That means he was with that man the whole time.”

Taehyung muttered, “They looked close.”

“I can’t believe we gave him even that much of a chance.”

 

Hoseok still said nothing.

 

-*-*-*-*-

[Inside the store]

 

Jungkook slowly reached for the takeout bag with shaking hands.

He lifted it - then dropped it. The box spilled open. Inside was chicken and rice.

And a note.

"You know I'm always looking out for you, right? I'm always looking, my Love."

 

This wasn’t just a visit.

It was a warning.

 

Jungkook crumpled it with shaking fingers.

He didn’t cry. Not yet. But when he turned off the store lights and stepped into the rainy wind outside...The sobs came like waves.

 

He didn’t cry when they accused him. He cried when he had to walk home in the rain, alone, carrying shame that didn’t belong to him.

He turned corners instinctively, like he didn’t need to think - just move. The pavement blurred beneath him. Cold seeped into his bones. He kept walking.

One block. Two.

Every car that passed made him flinch.

He reached the front of his apartment complex, his unit tucked away on the far left. He looked up blurrily...
The lights were on.

 

He wasn’t sure when he started shaking.

 

---

 

The door clicked shut behind him.

Jungkook froze.

Juntae sat on the couch like he belonged there, legs crossed, scrolling casually through his phone. He looked up, smiling like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“There you are,” he said warmly. “I was worried. You’re soaked.”

 

Jungkook’s heart stuttered in his chest. He tightened his grip on the strap of his bag, shoulders trembling.

“Why are you—”

 

“Home?” Juntae finished for him, patting the cushion beside him. “Because this is ours, Kook-ah. Don’t look so startled.”

 

He set his phone aside, leaning back with an easy smile. For a moment, it almost looked normal. Almost.

 

But then his eyes sharpened. The calm slipped.

“Didn’t I warn you?” His tone shifted - low, deliberate. “Didn’t I tell you not to talk to him again?”

Jungkook’s throat closed.
His lips parted, but no sound came.

 

---

 

(Flashback - A Week Ago)

 

“Don’t talk to him again.”

 

Jungkook had blinked, confused. “Who?”

 

“The dance instructor.”

 

“Hoseok-hyung?”

 

SMACK!

 

The slap came fast. Not hard. But enough to leave him dumbfounded.

 

His head whipped to the side, cheek stinging.

“You don’t call him that.”

Jungkook touched his face, eyes wide. “I-I wasn’t--”

 

“You smile too much when you talk about him.” Juntae’s voice was casual, dismissive, like he was correcting a child. He rubbed his palm against his trousers as if the contact had dirtied him. “Do you want him to think you’re available?”

 

“No”... Jungkook whispered.

 

“Then act like it.”

 

Silence stretched.

 

“Say thank you.”

 

“…Thank you.”

 

---

(Back to Present)

 

The memory blurred into now. Jungkook’s breath hitched.

 

Juntae was already on his feet, closing the space between them. His hand shot out, gripping Jungkook’s chin hard enough to bruise, forcing his head back until their eyes locked.

 

“You’re not very good at listening, are you?” Juntae murmured. His thumb dug into Jungkook’s jaw. “After everything I do for you, after all I’ve given you-- this is how you repay me? By embarrassing me in front of them?”

 

“I-I didn’t--” Jungkook stammered, the words breaking apart in his throat.

 

“You did.” Juntae’s smile was thin, cruel. He pushed Jungkook back a step, crowding him until his spine hit the wall. “And I don’t like repeating myself.”

The bag slipped from Jungkook’s shoulder and thudded onto the floor. His hands hovered uselessly at his sides, trembling.

Juntae leaned closer, his breath hot against his cheek. “You belong to me. Don’t forget that.”

His grip tightened until Jungkook’s eyes watered and he nodded shakily.

"Good boy"

 

"Now,” Juntae murmured, voice low, almost gentle. “Show me you remember who owns you.”

 

Hands, firm, unyielding.

 

Breath shallow, heart racing.

 

Trembling in quiet defeat.

 

One tear broke free, the rain outside mirrors it, tapping against the window like a quiet, mocking rhythm.

Rolling down his cheek, carrying with it the weight of everything he could not say.

 

The world outside his window felt impossibly far away.

Chapter Text

[Age 7 ]
- Myeongjin Orphanage, Busan -

 

Jungkook had three shirts. None of them fit.

He ate once a day. Soup that tasted like water and rice. Sometimes there were boiled potatoes. He learned not to be picky.

He learned to be quiet.

The ajummas at the home liked the quiet ones. Quiet boys didn’t complain. Quiet boys got extra pencils. Quiet boys didn’t get sent outside during winter for being difficult.

So Jungkook kept quiet.

He didn’t know when he learned that he was different. Just that kids at school whispered about soulmarks. That his hadn’t formed yet. That maybe no one was meant for him. When later they formed, it didn’t mean the loneliness in his heart was even a bit diminished. He was still alone.

He started drawing with stubby colored pencils someone donated.
He got good at it.
It was the first thing anyone praised.

They still didn’t hug him.

-

[Age - 8]

 

Jungkook had never really known what a family was supposed to feel like. The orphanage walls were the only constant in his life - old, peeling paint and beds lined in rows.
Once, there had been hope. Little Jungkook, was adopted by a young couple, given a chance at something brighter. At first, there were warm meals and words that sounded like family.

But it didn’t last. The hands that fed him soon turned cruel and that light of a new beginning burned out quickly.
CPS intervened after discovering the bruises that were too frequent, too deep, and he was returned to the orphanage as though he were nothing more than misplaced property.

 

-*-*-*-

 

[Age 10]

 

Back at the orphanage, among the older boys, his days blurred into a cycle of torment. They singled him out, mocking him for being unwanted, cornering him in the dark, fists and words equally sharp.

Children often held more cruelty than adults combined. Perhaps, they too were living a life of despair, so they needed an outlet. Jungkook just happened to be that outlet - or at least, that is what he told himself.

Pain became a rhythm, something he wore like a second skin. The staff turned their eyes away, muttering excuses about boys being boys, about how he needed to toughen up. Alone, aching, Jungkook learned that care was a thing other people received, never him.

 

---

 

[Age 13]
-- Saeroun Sijak Orphanage, Seoul --

 

He stood in a hallway that smelled like wood and varnish, carrying everything he owned in one small duffel bag. Home was something of an illusive concept to Jungkook. Though the life at his previous orphanage was marked by childish bullying, neglect and yearning but finally...finally he felt a sense of home. But no, he was thrown around again.

The Busan orphanage was scheduled to be torn down, its inhabitants scattered around the country. Children who only knew that place since they learned to comprehend their own existence.. were again left to find a place in a new world.

Time for Jungkook passed like a clock submerged in water, its hands sluggish, distorted, and barely moving. He grew taller, not by much, but a bit more gangly. His features though, still retained the softness of childhood innocence. And it seemed, no matter how much he grew up, his tormentors grew up faster.

Jungkook loved art. Colorful creations. But the canvas of his body was painted in only bluish and black.

Nights were the hardest - lying in bed, body aching, wondering why, again, the adults looked away, why no one ever stepped in. Pain was all he learned to expect. Silence was the only way to survive in a crowd of tormentors, not much older than him, but visceral to the point of no return.

And yet even in that relentless bleakness Jungkook’s mind worked like wildfire. He devoured his studies, leapt ahead of his peers, even skipped a grade without stumbling. By the time he reached high school, he had already secured a full scholarship - something the orphanage paraded proudly even as they ignored the bruises on his arms.

His achievements couldn’t erase the cruelty, but they gave him a fragile escape, a glimpse of a future that might not be all suffering.

 

---

[Age 15]

 

Jungkook worked hard, studied harder. He started washing dishes in his high-school cafeteria to pay for extras. Milk. Apples. Then he looked for more work. Since he was still in high-school, nothing too well-paying. But enough for a bit of savings. Part-time work at a local book shop, shelving - organizing books, guiding customers - on a few days. Running deliveries for a neighborhood donkatsu shop, on other days.

Because he'll be out of here soon. He has to be. Though, at the same time, no matter how much hurt lived between the walls of the orphanage, he was grateful. Jungkook grew up being grateful for the smallest blessings. For giving him shelter, for giving him at least a roof over his head.

But he was scared now too. He was set to graduate highschool early, get into a university, start a new life. But with the freedom, which he was working hard to acquire, came the burden of responsibility. He will be on his own, and Jungkook both yearned and dreaded that independency.

Because how terrifying was it to be alone on your own when you have no one to fall back into? In a world so indifferent, the independence of a lonely soul could soon harden into a sentence of isolation.

But now he had music in his ears. A sketchbook in his lap. Ideas and dreams in his mind. So he didn’t let the fear of future stop him from living the present. This world could strip many things from Jungkook but the soft eyes filled with stars and yearning for happiness will not be one of them.

Jungkook, even in his last legs of struggle, walking a thin line between hope and a steep fall, where any moment he could fall on either side, started to feel almost human.

And then came the last summer of high-school, and the heavy rains that washed the earth from all its hurt, gave way to a strong gust of wind in Jungkook's life that shook his whole world.

In June, on a humid summer day, Jungkook met Juntae.

 

---

 

[Age 16]
- Seongbuk High School, Infirmary Room 12B -

 

He’d fainted during a early morning shift before class started. He stayed up the whole night working on an assignment, and ran first thing in the morning to catch his few hours of part-time shift. He didn't remember drinking anything, much less have food and it was humid outside, so he was dehydrated. Good thing he was wearing his high-school uniform - working at a small printing shop around the school corner. So the owner kindly dropped him in the care of the school nurse.

That’s when Juntae walked in. Tall. Charming. Dressed in clean clothes and a gentle smile. At that time, he was just a young, medical trainee - doing clinical rotations in the small neighborhood highschool as a part of a community-volunteering system he was also working with. Taking one look at the small boy, who was trying to fold himself inward, Juntae said,

“You should eat more,”

Then the noise of scribbling notes was followed by, “You’re sharp, but you’re running on fumes.” Finally Juntae moved his gaze towards Jungkook. But it was not with an indifferent gaze like the school nurse, rather - it was graced with kind eyes and a warm smile, a bit quirked, like he was lightly humoring Jungkook.

This put Jungkook at ease. He laughed and added nervously. “I just got busy.”

"I know, you're as busy as a bee, fluttering from one place to another", Juntae joked again with another smile. Jungkook didn’t comment on how would he know, they just met today - he thought it to be just socializing. Jungkook hummed along.

Juntae handed him a small chocolate milk from the infirmary fridge. “Drink.”

And He did.

He didn’t think much of it.

For once, Jungkook actually sat in the comfortable silence of another person beside him. It felt nice.

While taking his temperature, Juntae murmured, brushing a damp curl from Jungkook’s forehead. “Someone should teach you how to rest.”

Jungkook laughed faintly. “I don’t really have someone.”

 

“You do now.”

 

---

 

He didn’t see Juntae after that. Time passed. Jungkook started studying harder for his university of choice and a major that he wanted. He was hopeful. Finally, finally he was starting to put his life in order.

Until a week later, Juntae came by the book shop he worked evenings at. When asked how he knew to come here, Juntae said, he asked the school nurse and wanted to make sure Jungkook was doing okay. He has taken Jungkook in as a dongsaeng after-all. And seeing how Jungkook didn't take care of himself, Juntae was here to do it for him.

Jungkook, in the surprised but shy happiness of having someone call him a dongsaeng, being taken under someone's wings for once in his life - didn’t care to notice that the school nurse only knew he worked at the printing shop around the school, not his current book shop location.

Jungkook was too busy listening to Juntae's silly jokes and a request to walk him back to the orphanage, because he can't allow Jungkook to walk alone at night. Just to be safe.

 

“You...remind me of someone I used to care about,"Juntae said. And led Jungkook back with a soft arm behind his back, not holding - just there.

It made Jungkook warm.

 

But Jungkook didn’t know why it also made him feel so...

 

Vulnerable?

 

Maybe he was thinking too much.

 

---

 

One day, when Juntae came to pick him up after class, he took him to a small neighborhood restaurant instead of the convenience store they'd usually stop by.

The decor was cozy, pretty lights hanged down the walls. Two hot bowls of Sogogi Beoseot Jeongol placed before them.

"Eat."

Jungkook stared. Then said..

"Juntae-ssi, I...I can't. I don't have enough to pay for thi-"

"Did I say anything about paying? Now eat. And didn’t I tell you to call me, Hyung, Kook-ah?" Juntae hummed, looking at him again with a kind smile. He urged again, "Eat now. You're really too thin for your age. I wish you’d let me feed you more."

"Thank you for the meal. And you don't have to worry, Hyung. You treat me more than enough already. Let me buy something next time."

"You deserve better." Juntae smiled, "You're special Jungkook-ah."

Jungkook just ducked his head, slowly consuming the hot food to hide the redness of his ears.

 

That’s the first time anyone had said that word.

 

Special.

 

He didn’t know it would become a leash.

 

---

 

[Age 17]

 

He looked out of place in the dorms. Everyone else came with parents. Suitcases. Laughter. Jungkook brought a folded bedsheet, two pencils in a rubber band, a handful of books and trinkets in his deteriorating duffel bag.

The Orphanage walls were exchanged finally for walls, maybe thinner, that felt more well-earned. He has joined the university that he wanted and gotten into the program that he dreamed about - graphics designing. He never thought that he'll actually come this far. But he has, and more roads and bridges are left to be crossed.

He was happy. He was still struggling, his studies were covered by the scholarship but his living expenses were still something he needed to worry about. But he was grateful.

Grateful to Juntae. Juntae believed in him, urged him to keep working and even helped him before the final exams.

"What would you have done without me, Kook-ah? You are literally falling at the seams. But there, there - I'm here to help you. I'll do my best to get you in that university that you so wished for ok?"

Juntae was there when he was cramming so heard that he couldn’t keep up part-time hours. He couldn’t have survived on his meager savings and what little the orphanage offered him. Juntae was always there to look after him though.

"Jungkook, you may not be the best among the participants fighting for a chance in this uni, well, we can't ignore how your high-school background is not too rounded up. But it's not your fault, I mean. But don't worry. I'm here. You'll do great." Juntae kept assuring him and if not for Juntae, would Jungkook even be here?

He learned so much from him, jungkook also realised how in-adept he was in social skills, Juntae always tutted, "Jungkook- ah, you need to be more at ease. You always look like you're hiding from something"

Juntae taught him to be confident. Always kept pointing out his little quirks to correct him, for his own betterment.

And yes, Jungkook was a really promising student, but he realised - would only academic excellence have helped him survive and come this far? Of course not. He needed to work on his personality. He understood now that he was still not ready to interact in the society alone. But again, he didn’t have to worry anymore. Juntae was always around the corner, whenever Jungkook was struggling, he'll look for Juntae.

 

And he'll always be there for Jungkook.

Even when no one else was or will be.

Jungkook was alone, has always been from the beginning.

 

But with Juntae, he was not alone anymore.

---

The first time Juntae visited his dorm, Jungkook had a low-grade fever. Burned out from classes and his part-time job. Juntae said he was worried sick and wanted to help.

He brought warm soup. A new scarf.

Jungkook thought it was kindness.

Juntae insisted on feeding him the first spoonful.

"You always look like no one’s ever taken care of you," he said softly.

Jungkook blinked, throat tight.

Then Juntae brushed his thumb under Jungkook’s eye.

A gesture so gentle it made him flinch.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” Juntae murmured. “You’re just… very soft when you’re tired.”

 

"Sleep, I'll be here"

 

Jungkook slept with the feeling of kind eyes that on him, burned with a sharp gaze.

---

Jungkook won the first position for a campus graphics design project seminar. His designs were showcased along with various other talented students and Professors alike.

Juntae brought him dinner to celebrate. He told Jungkook, "I'm proud of you, Kook-ah. I told you, You'll win". Jungkook, maybe for the first time in a long while, actually smiled a full blown smile. The rush of happiness he felt at winning was multiplied by the praise.

 

He made Juntae proud.

 

Afterward, Juntae hugged him.

 

And kissed his forehead.

 

Then said, “Tell me I’m the only one who sees you.”

 

Jungkook, stunned, nodded. Then they watched a movie together, sitting on the small bed in his dorm.

 

He didn’t even understand why he couldn’t focus on the movie even for once.

 

---

Jungkook didn’t know when spending time with Juntae has become a habit like a second skin to him. It was no longer just quick breakfast or lunch in a convenience store or a movie night or study session once in a week.

Now, his mornings started with Juntae and ended with wishing him goodnight. It was nice actually. Jungkook never really had a constant in his life before. To have someone, always there for him, shouldn’t he feel blessed? He does, he is happy...he just...doesn’t understand when that happiness of being able to share everything about his life turned into...control.

“You should quit that bookshop job,” Juntae said, brushing hair from Jungkook’s eyes. “You’re working too hard. You make me worry."

“I'm sorry, hyung. I didn't mean to make you worry. But you know I can't, I need it.”

“No. You can find another job, in a better neighbourhood too. The people at that place, I don't trust them either. And You're to naive to understand when someone's trying to influence you. You can try out for the cafe in the mall? I know people there. I'll get you in." Juntae kept saying without letting Jungkook speak.

Jungkook paused. He finally understood what's this about.

"Hyung, Suho-ssi is a really friendly guy. He helps me a lot to understand how to work better. I don't know why you’re worried abo-

"So you trust Suho-ssi more than me now?" Juntae said in a calm voice, but his eyes were sharp.

Jungkook startled, "I, no hyung. That's not it. I just don't want you to worry - "

"Then quit, Kook-ah" Juntae's gaze softened again, like it never was tinged with a silver of a knifes edge. "Don't make hyung worry for you. Can I trust you to listen to me, when all I do is look out for you, hmm? Juntae said this so softly, but his hands brushing under Jungkook's cheek made him stop.

Jungkook looked at Juntae.

 

Then nodded.

 

The job was gone by morning.

 

---

The first time it got physical, it wasn’t violent.

It was possessive.

Jungkook had stayed too long talking to a classmate after a lecture. Juntae showed up at his part-time gig hours later. Waiting.

“You don’t answer my texts now?”

“Wha-Hyung, I had class--”

“You make time for me, Jungkook-ah.”

“But I was about to-” Juntae cut him off again but not by words.

He stepped close. Too close. And gripped his arm. Not harsh, but firm.

“You don’t want to make me feel abandoned. Do you?”

“No,” Jungkook said, but it felt like his own breath was choking him.

“Good. Then let’s not fight.”

That night, when Jungkook cocooned himself in he small, dorm bed...he felt the same choked feeling of being cornered.. A fantom grip lingering.. He didn’t realize but the liquid hurt spilled from the corners of his eyes.

---

Jungkook used to be so happy when Juntae praised him. When he would make Juntae feel proud. It made Jungkook feel...seen, validated. Like he mattered.

But nowadays..sometimes, he didn’t know why it made his chest feel tight and his hands freeze up whenever Juntae praised him. Or touched his shoulder too long. Or sat just a little too close.

Once, Juntae had helped him remove a splinter from his palm after a project mishap.

His fingers were careful. Gentle. But his touch lingered in a way that made Jungkook forget how to breathe.

"You really are beautiful when you’re quiet," Juntae had said.

Jungkook hadn't answered.

--

It was one late afternoon of January. It was cold but still a nice day to be out. But Jungkook didn’t want to go out. He didn’t also want to admit to himself, that he didn’t want to go out because Juntae has called him to his apartment.

Juntae suddenly called him this morning and said they'll have a movie night tonight, It's been a while they hung out. Juntae has been busy with back to back clinical rotations and he seemed upset on the phone. He missed Jungkook.

In reality, Jungkook missed him too. Jungkook tried to tell himself this. Afterall, who did jungkook have except for Juntae. And he's been nothing but kind to him. But he just didn’t... Jungkook didn’t know why but he...

But nothing. Jungkook said to himself. Juntae needs him now. There's no reason to feel this...unsettled about.

He leaves his dorm for Juntae's place.

But the uneasiness hung low in his stomach.

He ignored it.

 

He shouldn’t have.

---

"What, what's all this?" Jungkook was stunned. He knew this is not how he should react. Especially seeing Juntae's falling expression. But Jungkook is really confused. Because Juntae has decorated his living room with some balloons, a flower bouquet on the center table and a chocolate cake lit with vanilla scented candles.

 

"Happy Birthday, Kook - ah!" Juntae said, regaining his happy smile - wrapping Jungkook in a warm hug.

Jungkook startled but hugged back, then let out a soft laughter. "But hyung, my birthday's not here, yet. I mean, it won't be here for a long time. But Thanks for all this. You really went all out." Jungkook said looking fondly at Juntae. See? He was thinking too much for nothing.

"Oh, I know, bunny. Your birthday is in September. But I thought we could celebrate an early birthday or a late one?seeing we couldn’t celebrate your last birthday together, so it's a compromise." Juntae ushered Jungkook on the sofa, and placed the cake infront of him.

"That's really sweet of you and silly too!" Jungkook couldn't help but let out a giggle. It's moments like these that make him so happy about Juntae's presence in his life. He was really grateful.

"And well, since you forgot to wish me on my birthday, which was yesterday. I thought we'll do a double birthday together," Juntae finally said.

 

Jungkook stopped. For a second he didn’t know what to say. He looked at Juntae and the gaze.. He didn’t know what it meant.

 

"Hy-Hyung, I'm...I'm really sorry! I didn’t know. I would have never missed it otherwise. Oh my. I..."

"It's whatever. I didn't expect you to know when my birthday is, stupid. Even though I know everything about you. Now blow out the candles" Now he understands why Juntae was upset.

"Hyung...Hyung, Happy Birthday. I'm really stupid, I am. I...how can I make it up to you? Tell me please? I'll buy you a present of course. I.. I'm so sorry"

Juntae was looking elsewhere. But suddenly he looked back at Jungkook and smiled, like he wasn't frowning a second before. "It's okay Jungkook-ah. I know you didn’t mean to hurt me. It's fine really."

Jungkook just mumbled another apology while Juntae helped him cut the cake. It was all very calm again..they ate the cake and Juntae put on the movie. They sat side by side, in comfortable silence. Only the noise of the movie interrupting the room.

Jungkook, almost forgetting about all this, was slowly getting emersed in the movie. When suddenly.. A warm hand landed over the soft sheets laying on his thighs.

Jungkook didn’t pay it much mind. As Juntae and him...they have been close recently. Juntae often, leaves soft kisses on his cheeks, his lips..hugging him tightly. He didn’t know when...but it had become normal for them to kiss each other as greetings or in soft moments of silence together.

But when the hands moved up closer, Jungkook couldn’t help but flinch. "Hyung?" was all Jungkook could utter before Juntae wrapped him in close, one hand going around his waist, the other curling softly under his chin.

He looked at Jungkook for one split moment when Jungkook held his breath. And then he moved in, slotting their mouths together. Jungkook, like every other time, didn’t know where to put his hands or what to...do at all. So his hands curled uneasily beside their bodies, mouth nudged open by Juntae, fitting to his ministrations.

Jungkook didn’t know if he liked kissing Juntae or not. He Didn't hate it..he just...didn’t know how to feel about it? The first time Juntae kissed him was 2 months ago, after Juntae has dropped Jungkook to his dorm in a half asleep state. He kissed him so abruptly that Jungkook thought, that Juntae even startled himself. The next day, Juntae apologised profusely. Stating he would never kiss him like that again, he meant, without his consent.

Looking back, Jungkook never gave an explicit consent any time after too. But, someway or another, they have ended up here. Jungkook knew Juntae cared about him and so did Jungkook. But did caring about something entail..physical intimacy always? Jungkook didn’t know. Juntae has assured him though...he knew Jungkook has no one else to teach him...so he'll be patient with Jungkook.

But today, suddenly Juntae was not patient and calm. His hands held too harshly, gripping and moving across his body too fast. Jungkook didn’t know what he should do, so he just remained compliant. He'll be going back home soon. They could kiss for a while.

But all that suddenly went to chaos, when Juntae placed one hand suddenly underneath his shirt while the other moved to unbuckle his pants.

Panick grabbed Jungkook and he, without thinking jolted up. "Hy-mmp-Hyung! Mmph! St-Stop!" suddenly everything was so silent that one could hear a pin drop.

"What's wrong?"

Jungkook would've thought he finally said his words out loud but it was Juntae who said this. Still looming over him, a bit hunched back - a look of impatience and... Jungkook nervously noted, annoyance in his features.

"Hyung, I, I'm not. I think I should go now..."

 

"Didn't you say You'll make it up to me?"

 

What.

"What?"

Jungkook looked flabbergasted.

 

"Did you, Jungkook, not say just a while ago..that you didn’t mean to hurt me and will make it up to me or was that just something you say without meaning? You don't care about my feelings at all?" Juntae's words were not angry, no. His words were sharp and cold. Which was, somehow, much worse.

"I did say that, Hyung. But I..I'm not...I can't...,can we just kiss Hyung?" Jungkook proposed, he realized, quite pathetically.

"Do you not trust me, Kook-ah?" The sudden change in Juntae's voice almost gave him whiplash. Suddenly, he sounded upset and resigned.

"Hyung, of course I trust you. I just..I've never..." Jungkook didn’t even know what he was going to say..frustrated tears came to his eyes...but it didn’t deter Juntae.

"I love you, Jungkook."

Jungkook's eyes rushed up to meet him. He was speechless.

"You.. You do?"

"Yes, baby. And you don't know how long I've wanted to make you mine. But I didn’t want to rush you. I wanted you to feel comfortable... But it seems I make you feel uneasy and that's why you want to leave, I thought you loved me too but I was wrong, I unders- "

"No! No Hyung! I do love you! You don't make me uncomfortable!" Jungkook cried. Even though his heart screamed otherwise..because in that moment, he could see Juntae moving away from him..and he feared being left.. Alone. Forgotten. He did care about Juntae but..

"Then what's the problem? If you trust hyung, then you have nothing to worry. I will not hurt you, my baby. You know that"

"I mean, we shouldn’t, Hyung. I'm not, I'm not 18 yet and.."

"Oh, Kook. You know how society has warped the idea of this. You don't need to be 18 to be an adult. You're more mature than most men I meet of my age, were you worried about this? It doesn’t matter, baby. And also...how would anyone know? We won't tell anyone, would we?"

"Hyung..." Jungkook, in that moment, realized he was fighting a loosing battle. He can't stop Juntae...he just...Jungkook with his eyes blurred with tears and a stutted breath, sobs clutching like barbwire at his throat.. Shaked his head no.

 

Of course he won't tell anyone.

 

How could he? Juntae won't let him

 

And Jungkook realized then

 

He was helpless infront of Juntae's words

 

So when Juntae kissed him again, whispering "Good Boy" and.. He didn’t know when..he felt his back pressed into Juntae's mattress, Jungkook couldn’t say anything.

 

He just gripped the bedsheets and bit his lips to muffle the cries..

 

Because...it hurt

 

So much..

 

That he was blinded by it.

 

And when Jungkook came back to himself, he was already rubbing himself raw in Juntae's shower, him sleeping quietly in his bed.

 

And what even hurt more was not the pain in his lower back, his thighs, arms, waist...everywhere...no, it was not the physical pain...

 

But his heart...

 

Because Juntae promised he won't hurt him..

 

Then why didn’t he see Jungkook was hurting?

 

Why?

 

And if he did...

 

...

 

Why didn’t he stop?

--

[Age 18]

 

Sometimes Juntae would hold him too long. Ask questions like, "Do you think about me when I'm not around?"
Or say things like, "Don’t smile at anyone else like that. That smile’s mine."

Jungkook didn't know what to call the twisting in his stomach.

It wasn’t love.

But it was the only thing that felt like closeness.

He started letting his guard down.
Started saying thank you more often.
Started mistaking possession for protection.

By the time he realized the difference, it was too late.

 

[Age 20]
[Present]

Jungkook still had that old scarf. Tucked in the back of a drawer. Frayed and smelling faintly of cold winters and things he never wanted to name. Jungkook opens his sketchbook in the silence of his apartment. He draws faceless figures with hands that don’t hurt.

He erases them before they’re finished.

His phone buzzes.

 

[Juntae]: I'll be home tonight. Wait up for me. Behave.

 

He shuts the phone off.

He pulls his knees to his chest.

He doesn’t cry anymore.

 

.
---

Chapter Text

The night air clung damp and heavy to Hoseok’s skin as he climbed the stairs to their apartment. He walked slower than usual, as if prolonging the moments before the inevitable. His thoughts circled endlessly and he found himself thinking about one person again and again no matter wherever his mind drifted to -

Jungkook.

Kind, starry-eyed Jungkook.

Jungkook, whose eyes crinkled with a smile brighter than the meek one his face held - whenever Hoseok's eyes met him.

Jungkook who clung to the back of his shirt when they walked through a heavy crowd.

Jungkook who was tired and struggling but never asked Hoseok for anything.

Jungkook who held the cosmos in his eyes, that told stories of a life lived unfulfilled, with a heart both on fire and drowning simultaneously - yet his words, his touch - held nothing but compassion and warmth.

And...

The Jungkook, who lied to him...or no, he didn’t lie, did he? He just didn’t say...lying by omission, isn't it? But no matter how much Hoseok wanted to focus on that...his mind was concerned with something else.

Jungkook's silence.

And that startled flinch in the convenience store, but worst of all -

The way Juntae had smiled like he belonged.

By the time Hoseok reached the door, his head hurt from it all. He pressed his palm to the cool metal of the knob, bracing himself.

The door clicked open.

Soft laughter. Whispered voices. The low murmur of his partners’ conversation floated out into the hall - easy, almost normal. But the second he stepped inside, one foot on the polished wood floor, the air fractured. Silence rolled in like a tide, sharp and cutting. Six pairs of eyes darted away, pretending they hadn’t been speaking at all.

Hoseok let out a quiet scoff, bitterness tugging at his lips.
“Don’t stop on my account,” he said, kicking off his shoes. “You can keep talking. I’ll be in my room.”

He started down the hall.

“Hyung,” Jimin’s voice, sharp with tension.

He didn’t turn.

“Hoseok,” Jimin snapped, rising from the couch. “What’s your problem lately? Why are you being like this with us?”

Yoongi’s voice followed, rough with irritation. “Yeah. You act like we’re the enemy. Shouldn’t you be mad at someone else?”

Hoseok turned, jaw clenched. “Mad at someone else? Funny. All I see is the people I live with whispering behind my back, waiting for me to walk into a room just so they can shut up. I don’t need to go looking for someone else to be mad at. You’ve made it easy.”

Namjoon exhaled, heavy. “You think we’re doing this to hurt you? We’re worried. We see what this is doing to you, Hoseok. We’re trying to make sense of it.”

“By tearing me apart when I’m not here?” Hoseok’s laugh was bitter. “That’s how you care for me?”

The silence was sharp, like broken glass.

“Don’t act like we’re the ones hurting you,” Yoongi cut in, tone low and simmering. “You’re shutting us out. Do you think that doesn’t hurt?”

“And do you think it doesn’t hurt me?” Hoseok threw back. “Hearing you talk like I’m too blind, too stupid to know what’s good for me? Like I need you to sit around dissecting my choices? Like I'm not hurting enough already?"

The words dropped heavy, like stones into deep water.

Namjoon closed his book softly, setting it aside. “Hobi… we’re not blind. We see how you’ve been since that night. We know you’re hurting. But you can’t put that on us. This is because of him.”

 

“Don’t,” Hoseok snapped. His hands shook.

 

Taehyung finally spoke, voice low. “Hyung...why does it feel like you hate us for saying out loud what you’re too afraid to admit?”

Hoseok stiffened. His nails bit crescents into his palms.

Then Yoongi said it. Quiet. Sharp.
“You’re mad at us because you don’t want to admit we were right about him. That he’s a snake.”

 

“Hyung--don’t,” Hoseok whispered, voice breaking.The room felt too small, the walls pressing in. Hoseok wanted to scream, to defend Jungkook, to demand they see him differently - but the words tangled in his throat.

 

But Jimin was relentless, eyes glinting with cold fire.

“Or maybe you’re just still trying to make excuses. Is that it, hyung? Are you still telling yourself that he didn’t lie to you? Still trying to paint him as innocent?”

The silence that followed was brutal.
Hoseok’s lips pressed tight, but his expression - guilty, stricken - betrayed him.

He turned without another word and disappeared into his room, the slam of the door echoing.

 

Behind him, the living room sank into a pit of anger.

 

“Look at him,” Jimin muttered, disgusted. “Still defending.”

“It’s tearing us apart,” Jin added flatly.

 

Namjoon pinched the bridge of his nose, whispering, “All because of one boy.”

 

-*-*-*-

 

Later, a hesitant knock at Hoseok’s door.

 

“It’s me.” Namjoon’s voice.

Hoseok almost didn’t answer. But the door creaked open anyway, and Namjoon stepped inside, folding his long frame carefully onto the edge of the bed. The room was dim, curtains drawn tight.

“You’re still holding out for him,” Namjoon said gently. “Even now.”

Hoseok rubbed at his face. “Because I can’t believe it was all a lie. He’s… he is so kind, Joon. Quiet. Shy. I can’t make him fit the picture you’re all painting of him.”

 

“That’s because you’re you,” Namjoon said softly. “You’re trusting. You want to believe the best in people. But sometimes the truth hurts more than the hope.”

 

Hoseok shook his head. “Maybe. But my heart --my heart doesn’t know how to stop making excuses for him.”

Namjoon sighed, hand resting briefly on Hoseok’s shoulder. “We just don’t want to lose you, hyung. That’s all.”

At the doorway, Jin’s silhouette appeared, framed by the dim light of the hall. His voice was calm, but there was no mistaking the steel beneath it.

"Hoseok-ah…don’t give your trust away so easily. We know better than to make that mistake again. It almost broke us once, back then, and it’s definitely breaking us apart now.

...We can’t break our home apart trying to make space for someone who wasn’t meant to stay. ”

 

He left before Hoseok could answer.

 

Hoseok leaned back, closing his eyes. “Just…give me a few more days.”

 

-*-*-*-

[Two weeks later]

 

The mall was busy, voices rising and falling in waves. Yoongi walked with his hands shoved into his pockets, head low. The others had finally started laughing again, eating together without that heavy silence. Even Hoseok had smiled yesterday, a real one. For the first time in weeks, things felt…almost normal.

Yoongi told himself that’s why he stopped outside the small boutique cafe. Not because of the boy who worked inside. Not because he’d avoided this place, circling it like a wound he didn’t want to reopen. He hesitated - thinking if he should go in or not - like all the last many days he had sent contemplating.

But, he loved the coffee and pastries here. Why should he avoid a place he liked for someone else's fault?

 

“I’m not the guilty one,” Yoongi huffed under his breath, pushing through the door.

 

The bell chimed.

 

And there he was. Jungkook. Pale under the cafe lights, apron tied loosely over his hoodie, eyes widening in shock. He glanced instinctively behind Yoongi, hopeful, as if he was searching for someone...Hoseok.

 

Yoongi noticed. Bitterly.

“Coffee. And one pastry.” His tone was curt.

 

Jungkook nodded, stammered, printed the receipt. “It-It’ll be brought to you, sir.”

 

When Yoongi sat, he hadn’t expected Jungkook himself to bring the tray. But he did, setting it down carefully. And then...he lingered.

Yoongi tried to keep his eyes on the warmth radiating of his coffee and pastry. Thinking the kid will just go away. But he realized that no, he was not - rather he was hovering like a nervous moth flattering towards the light at the face of its imminent death.

Yoongi sighed and frowned. “What?”

Jungkook’s throat worked. “I… Yoongi-ssi. Is Hoseok-hyung…how is he?”

 

The reply he was met with was cold. Sharp.

“Why don’t you ask him yourself?”

 

A pause. Both knew the answer. But Yoongi didn’t want to make it any easier.

 

“I tried,” Jungkook whispered finally, “But he… he hasn’t replied.”

Yoongi scoffed. “And that surprises you? After everything? For God's sake, what did you expect? You lied. You played him. Did you think he'll be naive to your ways forever?"

Jungkook flinched, a flash of hurt in his eyes. But before he could say anything, Yoongi stated, voice firm - "He’s doing fine. Actually? Doing much better than fine...without you.

So stay away from him."

In his irritated rant - Yoongi knocked his spoon to the floor. He cursed, bending to retrieve it - at the same time as Jungkook. And their hands brushed.

 

A spark. A burn.

 

Yoongi froze.

 

Jungkook drew back quickly. “I-I’ll get you a clean one.” He disappeared, returned minutes later with a fresh spoon, setting it gently down.
Then he slowly started to retreat when -

“You’re burning up,” Yoongi said before he could stop himself.

Yoongi didn’t know why he said it. Yes, he was burning up indeed, so much so that Yoongi could even feel it in that small brush of hands..

But he could have not pointed it out..it's not his business.

Now that he looked, actually looked at jungkook, he noticed his skin shone with sweat, his cheeks too red. His stance unsure and body a bit like it was holding itself from falling on a tangent.

Jungkook blinked, startled. “It’s… just a fever.”

And just like thar, Yoongi made to turn back to his food, he needed to stop wasting time here. He was here for the coffee, a brief break - not to chit chat - and then Yoongi saw it.

“The fuck.” was startled out of Yoongi's mouth, a shocked look in his eyes but he was not looking at Jungkook or his face specifically.

 

His eyes were fixed on Jungkook’s left hand.

Skin bright and blistered, swollen in sharp, angry patches, loosely wrapped in a bandage, a poor attempt of it, that did little to hide the raw damage.
And Yoongi... He was just lost for words for a moment.

“It’s nothing,” Jungkook rushed out.

"I just - spilled coffee. Yes... The lunch rush, it gets really chaotic. It's not as bad as it looks. It's my fault really.”
The words tumbled out like rehearsed lines, too fast, too neat.

 

Yoongi stared. And stared. Until Jungkook fled back to the counter.

 

Yoongi got up to leave soon after, looking back at the counter one last time, the sight of jungkook - He didn’t know why - sat heavily on his stomach.

 

The taste of his pastry ash on his tongue.

 

-*-*-*-

[Three days later]

 

It was almost one in the morning. But Jin and Yoongi made their voyage to get their loves the much needed snacks they have all literally begged for. The two complained and made a show of going out in the late night - "How dare your treat your eldest Hyungs like slaves, you damn brats?!" - Jin has cried.

But they still came. And while they were here, if they both got their own fill of snacks, well, no one was gonna know.

So they found themselves...

At the convenience store. This one was not the nearest but had all the things they needed.

It's not like they were here because of 'him'.

 

So when they entered to see Jungkook's, slight startle, and then a professional 'Welcome' smile, they ignored him like he was not even there.

The fluorescent lights hummed. Jin grabbed drinks, Yoongi scanned the aisles.

 

Jungkook sat down after a while and slouched at the register. Everytime he meets any of the other hyungs, was he allowed to call them hyungs? Well, he was in his mind,right?

Jungkook always hoped that maybe Hoseok would be right behind them. But so far, no sunshine, no hope...

Jungkook's wandering thoughts were stopped when Jin dropped his items on the counter.

“You gonna ring these, or just keep staring off?” Jin said, in a bored tone.

Jungkook startled, fumbling. “S-sorry, Jin-ssi, I-”

And he started to go through the things one by one while Jin measured him quietly. Jungkook tried to work faster as it felt like Jin's boredom would anytime progress to annoyance - if the tapping of his feet was anything to go by.

But his hands shook.

And that’s when Jin saw it. The bandages. The shock of angry welts beneath. His mouth blurted before his brain could comprehend fully -

“How the hell did you do that to yourself?”

Jungkook froze. Jin's gaze, much like Yoongi's before - was twisted - maybe in disgust? Jungkook swallowed. Then, too quickly, "Ramen. I spilled ramen. It's not as bad as it seems. I'm sorry, I'll ring this faster..."
That's when suddenly a voice cut in, from behind Jin -

“Funny. Last time, you said coffee.” Yoongi's sharp words were a match for his sharp eyes.
Jin turned to Yoongi, took the snacks from him and placed them with the other stuff.

Both of them stared now, their eyes pinning him in place. Jungkook stammered, “I, that..." Jungkook's words pattered off..."Your total is sixteen thousand won.”

Jin places his card on the counter with a harsh snap. He sneered. "Is lying a hobbie of your's? Like 'oh! I burnt my hands being stupid, now I can tell different stories to different people to get the maximum amount of sympathy', huh?" Jin levels a look on him with a cold tone.

Yoongi just shook his head, said nothing more and just turned to leave.

But Jin lingered one second longer, gaze fixed on the trembling boy’s ruined hand. A bitter taste rose in his throat, unexplainable. He shoved it down.

“Well,” he said coldly. “Hurting others does come back around, huh? Karma’s sure a bitch.”

 

The door chimed behind them as they left.

 

And Jungkook sagged back into his chair, throat tight. Not because of the insult itself - but because Jin’s words carried the echo of another voice.

 

And Jungkook was spiralling...

 

-~-~-~-

 

[Eight nights ago]

 

The kitchen was dim. Dishes clinked softly under running water as Jungkook scrubbed plates, body aching with exhaustion.

A shadow fell over him. Arms wrapped around his waist, then a chin pressing to his shoulder.

 

He stiffened.

 

“I… hyung, I have a test tomorrow,” he whispered. “Can we sleep early tonight?”

 

The grip tightened. The one arm raised up, fingers curled around his chin, forcing his head back.

“Ah, Jungkook-ah,” Juntae murmured, voice warm and venomous, “you really know how to make me jealous, don’t you?”

Jungkook’s pulse stuttered. “N-No, Hyung! I -- ”

He doesn’t know what he did now...he and Hoseok has lost contact for a while now. His sunshine hyung didn’t reply to any of his calls or messages - ones he deleted immediately after sending - fearing Juntae would find out.

He was lost in his thoughts and brought back by a harsh grip on his chin, "See? You're here with me but you're still thinking about your fucking soulmate, hmm?"

"No! I wasn’t, I -"

Juntae hisses, "Don't lie baby."

"You know how hurt I was when you went behind my back to meet up with you precious Hyung even when I told you not to? And then, imagine my surprise when I found out - it was not just any man you’ve suddenly chosen to be enamored with - no! It's your god forsaken soulmate!"

Juntae harshly continued, "Like, what did you think, bunny? Just because he's your soulmate - he'd be ready to put up with your silly little self? Did you really think your soulmate would, what, become your night in shining armour? And take you away from me?
Is that what you wanted, Kook-ah, to get away from me?"

Juntae's words grew harsher as he said them into jungkook's ears, all the while his grip around his waist, his nails started to mark crescents into his skin.

Jungkook struggled without meaning to - because struggling meant MORE hurt. He just cried, "No, Juntae - I promise. I never meant to...I would never leave you, hyung."

 

"You wouldn’t? Oh baby, It's that you couldn't even if you wanted to. Because You know! You know no one would take care of your pathetic self like I do.
But it hurts me, burns me with jealousy when after all I do for you...you seek out others?"
Jungkook was breathing harshly, he just didn’t know what words would appease Juntae.

"No, it just won't do, Kook-ah. You need to understand there are repercussions for what you do, right?

Jungkook was scared now, he continuously said "I'm sorry, Juntae - I am. Please I'm really sorry."

Juntae menacingly said, "You're not... but you will be.

Come, let me show you how it feels to be burning because of your very own precious, hmm?

Jungkook looks on, first a bit confused, then horrified when suddenly, the hand gripping his chin harshly grabs onto his left hand... and holds it under the faucet.

With wide eyes then, he watches it being turned on - hot water - full force.

Jungkook lets out a cry and tries to take his hand back but Juntae has wrapped his right hand tightly around his body, holding it hostage while with his own left hand, he forced Jungkook's under the faucet, the unforgiving scorching water that was growing worse by the seconds passed.

 

Soon the scalding water felt like acid, searing through skin, white-hot pain tearing up his arm.

 

Jungkook struggled fruitlessly to make Juntae stop...he was now shamelessly begging - "Please! Please! Stop!.. It hurts!

I'm sorry...

I'm so sorry...

Just...

Please..!

He was sobbing, his whole body shuddering - he was blabbering now - only coherent words was "please", "Juntae", "burns"...

But Juntae just let the water run ruin on his hand.

 

When he finally let go after, 5 mins? It felt like an eternity...Jungkook crumpled to the floor, cradling his burning hand - still fighting to breath through his sobs...

And then.

Juntae crouched, cupping his tear-streaked face with mock tenderness.

"Oh, baby, do you feel it now? This burn?
But...It's nothing compared to how you made me feel, you know? You know I don't want to hurt you so please don't make me.

...You'll be careful now, right?" Juntae said, voice saccharin sweet.

Jungkook just sobbed and nodded his head...trying to make sense of the words while white hot pain licked up his arms, skin red and mottled, blisters already bubbling up under the surface.

 

Then Juntae said..

 

"Oh my poor Kook-ah...

 

Karma is sure a bitch, huh?

Chapter Text

It had been drizzling for hours - the kind that never quite turned into rain, just clung to the air like mist. The streets gleamed under the pale wash of streetlights, puddles catching dull reflections of neon. Taehyung shoved his hands into his pockets, walking with no real destination.

He wasn’t planning to go there.
He wasn’t.

He just wanted something warm. It's just that the craving hit-one of those late-night ones. Spicy tteokbokki - and now he must get it or he can't sleep. And a drink. Something sweet. Or something that burned a little going down.

That was all.

He turned the corner, eyes lowered, pretending not to notice where his feet were taking him. The road ahead was quiet, only a single convenience store glowing like a square of daylight in the fog.

His chest tightened before he could name why.

The bell above the door chimed as he stepped in. Warm air and the faint scent of instant noodles wrapped around him. The fluorescent light made everything too bright, too sharp.
And there he was.

Behind the counter as always. 'As always? When did this figure - shrouded in a weight that never seemed to leave - become a permanent enough fixture in my mind to count as always?' Taehyung thought with a grimace.

He looked smaller than Taehyung remembered. Thinner.
But still so polite.

“Evening,” Jungkook said softly.

Taehyung stopped mid-step.

Jungkook flinched -just slightly. Like he thought Taehyung might turn around and spit something. Like he was bracing.

Taehyung didn't speak.

He walked past him.

He moved down the aisle, grabbed the first drink he saw - and walked to the counter. The silence between them was fragile, like a pane of glass.

The scanner beeped once.

The sound echoed far too loudly in the empty store.

He paid.

And He left.

Outside, the drizzle had turned into rain - thin and cold, tapping against his hood. Taehyung paused by the curb, pretending to check his pocket, pretending to hesitate for no reason at all.

He turned back for just a second.

Through the glass doors, Jungkook stood behind the counter, shoulders drawn tight, head bowed. His hands were hidden beneath his sleeves, as if even the light might sting. Taehyung didn’t pretend to himself when he admitted that his eyes lingered there far longer than necessary...he didn’t catch the bandages...but the way he kept his left hand out of sight said enough.

Taehyung looked away before he could think too long about it. Right before he started moving down the street - back home - he realised -

He never got the tteokbokki that he was here for in the first place.

---

Yoongi stopped by the store sometimes too - when the studio coffee ran out late at night. He really needs his coffee to work.

And Jin, who needed the late night snacks to unwind after a long day. He just liked the snacks this store had better than others - so it was becoming a habit. Just like Taehyung.

 

And they saw Jungkook.

 

But not really. They weren’t there to see him after all.

They only saw the motions - the bow, the receipt, the polite smile that never reached his eyes.

None of them spoke to him.

 

And Hoseok?

Hoseok hadn’t seen him in days.
He just laid curled up in bed, staring at the last text Jungkook ever sent -

 

"Please don’t hate me."

 

-*-*-*-*-

 

(2 Days Ago)

 

The sound of rain lingered even indoors, soft against the windows like static.

Lunch was quiet. Too quiet.

Steam rose from Jin’s cooking - glossy noodles, kimchi, eggs, a bowl of soup cooling in the middle but no one reached for seconds. The air smelled like sesame oil and distance.
Namjoon had papers spread beside his plate, though he wasn’t reading them.

Yoongi sat cross-legged on the floor, poking idly at his food.
Hoseok and Jimin sat opposite each other, heads bowed, both pretending to scroll through their phones.

Taehyung has curled himself up on the couch, having not eaten much, didn't have an appetite. An arm flung over his face, soft hum of the TV rang in the background.

They ate like that, the rhythm of metal against ceramic filling the gaps where words should’ve been. It’s not like they were not talking to eachother. Things have gotten better - everything is going back to normal really.

But some days...the air hung with a slight unease. Like it was holding on to its breath...trying to stifle a name that no one dared mention.

 

Jungkook.

 

But his name was there, hovering in the silence between every spoonful. It's really a wonder... How a boy that never really was even a part of them fully...left a crack with his absence. Maybe it was his polite gestures when they did cross paths? Maybe it was his eyes that were often downcast but sparked when they graced him with a tiny bit of kindness,...how he seemed to badly - desperately mold himself in a shape that would allow them to see that he deserved a chance?

A seat at their table? A doorway into their heart...maybe it was the yearning that Jungkook held for Hoseok - and even back then...the soft yearning he had for them too... Even though they never gave him much to hold on to but indifferent greetings and then harsh words that felt like ice that burned.

So some mornings and evenings just felt heavier all of a sudden...like even the walls held a sense of...guilt? Maybe.

After a while, Hoseok stood, grabbing his jacket. “I’m going to the studio,” he said quietly. “Jimin, you coming?”

Jimin looked up, hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah.”
The two left together. The door clicked softly behind them.

A thin quiet followed, fragile as glass.

Yoongi’s voice broke it first - casual, offhand, but carrying something unspoken.

 

“Kid burned his hand"

 

Yoongi said, tone flat, as if commenting on the weather.

 

Namjoon looked up. “Jungkook?”

Yoongi didn’t look at him. “Mm. Jin and I saw it at the store last week. Wrapped up to his wrist. Guess he doesn’t know how to handle boiling water.” He didn't say how he first saw it when he visited the cafe...like he was guilty of going there. Why he felt that..he didn't know.

And now, his voice - to the others - carried no concern, only a practiced indifference.

He paused, then added, “Burned it bad, too. Probably didn’t even go to a doctor.”

Jin glanced up from his plate. “He said it was fine,” he murmured hesitantly like he himself didn’t believe it.

Yoongi gave a small shrug. “Didn’t look fine though. He’s stubborn. Or stupid.”

Namjoon said nothing. He just nodded once, the motion small, tight. He spared a glance towards Taehyung, who was now sitting up on the couch, a light frown on his face.. But he said nothing.

Namjoon told himself it was just conversation -meaningless, surface-level, nothing more. But the image wouldn’t leave him.

He imagined Jungkook’s hands. A bandage covering blistered skin? And his ears rang with the way Yoongi’s voice sounded almost... guilty.

Yoongi leaned back, stretching lazily. “Anyway,” he said, “not our problem.”

“Mm,” Namjoon murmured, looking down again though the words itched in his throat and an unintentional concern reared its head. Human decency, he told himself. That’s all it is. Just that.

 

Yoongi didn’t say anything else. But as the silence thickened again, he wondered why he’d brought the boy up at all.

 

-*-*-*-*-

 

(1 week later)
[Seoul Arts University]

 

The afternoon sun spilled down the university corridor, warm against polished tiles. Namjoon walked quickly, half-reading the stack of essays in his hand - papers from his Comparative Literature and Cultural Studies class.

He’d earned a quiet reputation here in his short career - known for the clarity of his lectures, the way he could turn theory into something human. His research on narrative ethics and postmodern identity often took him abroad for seminars or conferences, his name occasionally appearing in glossy academic journals - though he never spoke much about it.

To most students, Professor Kim Namjoon was someone both admired and a little intimidating-approachable in words, distant in presence. The university halls had become a second home, familiar, steady, filled with the scent of coffee and old books.

Now, He was thinking about grading curves, deadlines - anything that wasn’t the quiet fracture running through his home.

 

A soft skritch drew Namjoon’s gaze up.

 

The infirmary doors at the end of the hall slid open. Jungkook stepped out.

He froze when he saw him, hesitating like a question mark.

For a heartbeat, neither spoke. Jungkook’s backpack was slung across his chest, his sleeves swallowing his hands. His posture was small, cautious, as if he might vanish if he stayed too long.

 

Namjoon almost kept walking. He really meant to.
But the sight of the infirmary sign behind Jungkook tugged at him.

He stopped. “Hello, Jungkook.” His voice came out awkwardly polite. “Uh…everything alright?”

Jungkook’s stomach dropped. Of course. It had to be him. He’d known Namjoon was a professor here - just like he knew that Taehyung and Jimin’s classes were just down the hall of his own - he knew most places they often spent time in because at the beginning...he often found himself looking for them - unconsciously - trying to make a bridge.

Now, he used that information to avoid bumping into them. And again, knowing didn’t soften the shock of meeting one of them like this. Specially Namjoon. He was never really...harsh or unkind to him - not like the others were...but he always felt intimidating. Like he could look into Jungkook's soul...and Jungkook feared what he might see.

He bowed slightly. “Hello, Namjoon-ssi-- I mean, Professor. I-I’m okay. Thanks for asking.”

He shifted, clearly ready to leave.

But Namjoon spoke again before he could move. He didn’t know why. Curiosity - or something quieter, harder to name - urged him.

“People who are okay,” Namjoon started with a small, self-conscious smile, “don’t usually walk out of the infirmary.”

 

Jungkook froze. His grip on the strap tightened. “Ah…just a check-up,” he managed, fumbling for an excuse.

Namjoon tilted his head, remembering Yoongi's words now 'kid burned his hand', “Your hand? Is the burn not better yet?”

Jungkook blinked, startled.

He hadn’t expected that. So they’d talked about him after all. Yoongi or Jin must have told the others. A small, fragile part of him wanted to believe that meant they’d cared - even a little.

“Yes,” he said quickly, grabbing onto the excuse. “It’s almost better. I just wanted to make sure it was healing properly.”

Namjoon studied him for a long moment, unreadable. “Good,” he said finally. “I hope it heals soon.”

Jungkook took the cue. He bowed again, voice soft. “Thank you. Goodbye, Professor.” Then he slipped past, heading down the opposite hall, footsteps fading fast.

Namjoon watched him go, papers limp in his hand. He told himself to keep walking.

He almost did.

Until the infirmary door slid open again.

“Kid, you forgot - oh!” The nurse stopped short, blinking. A slip of paper clutched in one hand. Then she smiled. “Professor Namjoon! Sorry, I thought I heard the boy. Did he leave already?”

Namjoon straightened. “Ah, Jin-ae-ssi. Yes, he just left. Should I - uh - take that to him for you? Prescription?” He said, gesturing to the paper slip.

“That’d be great. And no, it’s his X-ray request. He rushed out before I could give it to him.” She pressed the short slip into his hand, shaking her head with a sigh. “He’s always getting hurt, that one. I swear he thinks he’s indestructible.”

Namjoon glanced down and frowned, the words not catching up to him yet. “Um, X-ray request?”

“Yes,” the nurse said, already sounding half exasperated, half amused. “It’s important he gets it checked out - we don’t have imaging here, so he’ll need to take it to radiology off-campus. Clumsy kid managed to break two fingers and sprain his wrist. I had to rig him up with an ulnar gutter splint just so he wouldn’t make it worse.”

She huffed softly, the way overworked nurses do when the adrenaline fades. "honestly, they all think they’re made of rubber until something snaps.” She turned to go, still muttering to herself. “He better not skip that scan…”

Namjoon stood there, staring down at the paper in his hand. The words X-ray request and fracture assessment seemed to pulse against the white sheet, louder than the nurse’s fading footsteps.

Jungkook hadn’t said anything about broken bones.

Just a burn.

 

So why the X-ray?

 

The question followed him long after he walked away.

It clung to him throughout his lectures. And his whole body was thrumming with suppressed - anxiety? by the end of the day. He needed to get this to Jungkook soon.

 

And he needed to get some answers.

 

-*-*-*-*-*-

The cafe was slow that evening - golden light spilling through the glass front, shadows stretching long across the floor. The quiet was almost gentle, the smell of espresso and burnt sugar hung in the air.

Namjoon stood at the corner table, pretending to scroll through his phone, though his eyes had already found who he came for.

Jungkook stood behind the counter, his uniform apron sitting slightly askew, sleeves pushed up with uneven care. The right one hung lower, as if he’d rolled it down in a hurry. His right hand stayed half-hidden beneath the fold of fabric, fingers bound stiffly inside the splint.
Even with the splint disguised - it was hand based, so, easier to keep out of sight - there was a tightness to the way he moved -- every motion deliberate, careful, measured.

He handled the register mostly with his left hand, nudging buttons and sliding bills with quiet precision. When he had to use the other, his whole body seemed to brace for it - a small, nearly invisible wince tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Still, he smiled. Namjoon noticed how he always smiled. It was automatic by now - polite, practiced, the kind of expression that asked nothing in return. But it lacked warmth and it never quite reached his eyes.

Namjoon had been watching for several minutes before he approached.

When Jungkook finally noticed him standing there, his body tensed like a startled animal. “Professor Namjoon?” His tone was polite, but uncertain. “You...want something? I mean, what can I get for you?”

Namjoon smiled faintly. “Just coffee. Black.”
Jungkook nodded and busied himself with the machine. The faint hiss of steam filled the silence.

Namjoon leaned against the counter. “You work here often?”

“Yes, Sir,” Jungkook replied quietly. “Evenings mostly.”

The cup clicked against the saucer as he set it down. Namjoon’s eyes flicked to the edge of the black splint peeking from his sleeve, then back up to his face.

“Thank you, and you don't need to call me professor off-campus. Namjoon is fine” Namjoon said, with a kind tone, lifting the cup. He took a slow sip, then lowered it again, then decided to rip the bandage.“You didn’t get the X-ray.”

 

A pause.

 

Jungkook froze. “What?”

 

“The nurse said you needed an imaging scan.” Namjoon’s tone was mild, almost conversational. “You rushed out before taking the request slip. I was there so she handed it to me."

Jungkook’s throat worked. “That-uh, that’s not mine,” he said quickly, voice too light to sound convincing. “She must’ve mixed it up.”

Namjoon didn’t press immediately. He just looked at him -- calm, patient. “You’re wearing a splint,” he said quietly. “Right hand, under the sleeve.”

Jungkook’s lips parted, then closed again. His gaze dropped to the counter. “It’s fine,” he murmured. “She was just being dramatic. It’s not that bad. Just a strain.”

Namjoon frowned slightly. “She said you fractured two fingers and sprained your wrist to be specific.”

Jungkook’s smile was brittle. “She says that to everyone. It's only a sprain really.”

 

The conversation hung in the air, thin and strained. The soft hum of the espresso machine was the only sound between them.

 

Namjoon leaned forward slightly. “If it’s the money,” he said gently, “I can help. The X-ray doesn’t cost much, and--”

 

Jungkook’s head snapped up. “No. It’s not that.” His tone was sharp, almost panicked. He seemed to realize it and quickly softened his voice. “It’s really okay. I’ll manage.”

Namjoon hesitated. Something about the boy’s eyes - the flicker of unease there- gnawed at him. Then a sudden realization made words leeave his mouth before he could stop them.

“Wait,” he said suddenly. “Isn’t Juntae-ssi working at the hospital now? You can simply get it done over there.”

 

Jungkook went still.

 

The fear that flashed in his eyes was instant - raw and unguarded, too fast to hide. His knuckles whitened against the counter.

Namjoon was at a loss at the face of such intense show of emotions with just those eyes... His eyes were very expressive, Namjoon remembered noting that to himself even back when Hoseok and him were still talking. He then realised again,

"You didn’t tell him?”

Jungkook shook his head quickly, almost desperately. “No! I--please don’t tell him.” His voice was low, trembling at the edges. “I’ll take care of it, Namjoon-ssi, really...Please.”

Namjoon opened his mouth, then closed it again. The boy’s expression wasn’t defiant - it was terrified. The kind of fear that came from somewhere deeper than embarrassment or pride.

He softened his tone. “Jungkook…”

But Jungkook only shook his head again, forcing a small, shaky smile. “It’s nothing. Really. I’ll get it checked later. You don’t need to worry.”

 

Namjoon wanted to say more, to press further - but the look on Jungkook’s face stopped him. The plea in his eyes wasn’t for help, it was for silence.

After a long pause, Namjoon sighed. “Alright,” he said quietly. “But please - get it checked.”

Jungkook nodded, though it didn’t sound like a promise. “I will.”

Namjoon lingered for a moment longer, then turned to leave. The soft bell above the door chimed as he stepped out into the cooling night.

 

He walked down the street, hands in his pockets, coffee still warm in his stomach. But the warmth did nothing for the weight that had settled there - heavy, unshakable.
Because when he’d said Juntae’s name, Jungkook’s eyes had changed.

 

Not guilt.

 

Not shame.

 

Pure fear.

 

And Namjoon didn’t know what scared him more - not understanding why…

 

or what it might mean if he ever did.

Chapter Text

The doorbell chimed softly as Namjoon stepped out. The sound faded under the hum of streetlights, the quiet hiss of passing cars.

Jungkook stood still behind the counter, eyes fixed on the door even after it had closed. The cup in front of him trembled slightly in his hand. He hadn’t realized he was still holding it until a drop of lukewarm coffee splashed onto his fingers.

He set it down slowly.

His chest ached.

He wanted to call out - just once. “Professor,” maybe. Or even “Namjoon-hyung.” Anything.
To ask for help. To say that he didn’t know what to do anymore. That the pain in his hand wasn’t just the bones, that something else inside him was breaking too.

But then the thought twisted, sharp and cruel.

Help for what?

It wasn’t like Juntae was wrong.

The words slithered through him, quiet and familiar.
He’d been careless. He’d promised to stop clinging, stop making things worse. He was the one who couldn’t stop reaching out - so of course, it was his fault.

Always his fault.

He told himself that over and over until it settled into something steady. Something he could breathe through.

He cleaned the counter slowly, one-handed, the rag damp and heavy. Every movement hurt, but that was good. It reminded him not to repeat mistakes.

It reminded him to behave.

Because pain was manageable.

Shame was not.

 

----

[Two Days Ago]

 

The living room was dim except for the soft glow of Jungkook’s laptop. The clock read past midnight, the air thick with the hum of the city outside.

He sat cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by scattered papers, typing quietly. His fingers moved slower than usual, the ache still sharp from the mostly healed burn but he didn’t complain. He just wanted to finish his assignment, maybe make ramen after.

He didn’t hear the footsteps until arms slid around his shoulders from behind.

He startled. “Hyung--"

Juntae’s chin rested lightly on his shoulder. “Working this late again?” His voice was smooth, low, the kind of tone that could almost sound tender if you ignored what usually followed it.

“I just need to finish this part,” Jungkook said softly, trying to sound casual, to sound safe. “Almost done. Do you want me to make something? Maybe soup? Or I can--”

Jungkook was cut off by a sudden heat that enveloped his lips, burning. He didn't know when he started to associate Juntae's kiss - even this tender - with burning instead of the warmth he once felt. He was sure there was warmth once. He was sure.

But now as Juntae's hands urged him to sit on his lap, arm circling his narrow waist, one hand reaching up to tilt his head for easy access - all Jungkook felt was numbness. The only thought was... Clenching in his gut and hands hanging in mid air...not sure how to stop this - how to tell Juntae that...

This didn’t feel good.

He didn’t want this. Hadn’t wanted this for a while.

'Ever' a traitorous part of his brain said.

But Jungkook just stilled himself - waited witn bated breath for Juntae to...be done. Unconsciously praying for something.. Anything to maybe take Juntae's mind away...

His prayers were heard.

 

“Give me your phone.”

 

Oh, and how even prayers heard turned for him into veiled curses.

Jungkook froze. “My--my phone?”

“Mm.” Juntae smiled against his neck. “Just for a second.”

Jungkook swallowed hard, heart thudding. “It’s… charging,” he said, a little too quickly.

Juntae hummed, a sound that wasn’t quite believing. “Then bring it here.”

He moved slowly, obediently, picking it up from the low table. His palms were sweating. His thumb hovered for half a second over the power button - then he unlocked it and handed it over.

Juntae scrolled lazily, one arm still around him, the picture of calm affection. “No secrets, right?”

“No, hyung,” Jungkook whispered. “No secrets.”

He’d deleted everything. Every text. Every message after he’d sent them. He’d learned that lesson long ago.
And yet when Juntae’s thumb stilled, when his voice shifted - soft to sharp in a heartbeat - Jungkook’s breath caught.

“Do you take me for a fool?”

The words sliced through the air.

Jungkook turned, eyes wide. “No…no, hyung, what? I didn’t--"

Juntae’s grip tightened. “You think deleting messages means they never existed?”

He held the phone up, screen glowing. The screen showed the opened drafts folder.

A single unsent text.

Timestamped two nights ago.

[Hobi hyung, sorry for texting again. I just… I just wanted to know if you’re okay. I’m ]

The rest cut off mid-word.

Jungkook’s throat closed.

Juntae’s smiled at Jungkook with a warmth that didn’t translate into his words.. “Oh Kook-ah,my sweet...dumb bitch.”

His face twisted, all warmth gone.

The words hit harder than the first shove.
"You dare go behind my back again? Haven’t I taught you well enough?”

“Hyung, please--" Jungkook scrambled backward, hands raised. “I wasn’t-It was a mistake, I didn’t send it, I swear--"

But Juntae was already on him.

He grabbed Jungkook by the collar, yanked him up, then down. The laptop clattered to the floor as Jungkook’s body hit the coffee table edge. The world blurred with pain.

“Hyung, please--”

“Quiet.” Juntae’s voice was ice.

He slammed Jungkook’s right hand flat against the table. Jungkook tried to pull back, but Juntae’s grip was iron.
Then the phone--the same one that had betrayed him--came down.

Hard.

Once.

Twice.

The dull crack of plastic meeting bone.

“Hyung--please, I’m sorry, I won’t--"

Another slam. The pain exploded up his arm. The second and third fingers bent at an angle they shouldn’t. The wood creaked under the force.

Tears blurred his vision. “Hyung! It hurts --! please--!"

“You lied to me!” Juntae snarled, breath hot and furious. “You still think of him, don’t you? That filthy little soulmate of yours! You want him to pity you? You think I’ll let you humiliate me like that again?”

The last hit made something inside his hand give--a wet, cracking sound.

Jungkook screamed before he could bite it back.

The silence after was deafening.

Juntae stood there, chest heaving. Then, with a sneer, he hurled the phone against the wall. It shattered in two pieces.

He straightened his shirt, voice soft again. “Look what you make me do, Jungkookie.”

A beat of silence and labored breathing.

"Get up"

But Jungkook was curled on the floor, cradling his ruined hand against his chest. The pain pulsed in waves, making his vision flicker.

"I said, Get up!"

Jungkook jerked himself up...and when Juntae raised his hand-not a fist. Just fingers, curled tight, Jungkook braced for a slap.

Instead -

He was yanked forward, shoulder twisted behind his back, arm pinned in a cruel angle. Juntae's breath was right against his ear.

"You told me you blocked him."

Jungkook hesitated - tears still blurring his vision and the throbbing in his hand blurring his mind.

"I d-did. I swear! I real-"

"And yet," Juntae stepped forward, "You've been sending him messages - pleading, begging for attention! Like a whiney little whore!
Funny, isn't it? How messages get through when you want them to."

"I didn't send them - I promise! I-I wa-" Jungkook whispered brokenly.

"Oh," Juntae smiled, slow and awful, "You really want him to take you in, don't you? If the fucking soulmate trick doesn’t work - you’ll just stoop down to being a leech and cling for his pity - even when he made sure to cut you off, huh?"

"No, I-"

"You want them to come swoop in and save you? Is that it?"

"I don't.." Jungkook said again, quieter. The tears on his cheek growing cold like the lump in his throat.

"They threw you away," Juntae said coldly. "You remember that? They saw you, and they left. Because they saw what you are."

"I didn't ask for them-"

"You're mine."

Jungkook swallowed. "Yes."

"You don't need anyone else. Everything you have -your apartment, your food- I gave you that. You get to do your filthy jobs because I allowed you to. You think that fancy university pays for itself? You think you really deserved that scholarship? That you actually earned it? You're good enough? Damn, You're delusional. Even though you bring shame to me - remember all that I'm doing for you."

"I know.."

"Then why are you making it so fucking hard to love you?"

Jungkook flinched with those words that hurt more than any physical pain.

"You think they want to deal with your trauma? You think that soulmate wants a broken little charity case who cries at shadows?"

"I-I don't cry.." Jungkook didn’t even know why he said that...please just stay quiet, he told himself.

Juntae laughed, sharp. "Oh Yeah, You just shiver when I
raise my voice."

Jungkook's mouth opened, but no sound came out.

"I'm the only one who gives a damn. But you think those pompous little assholes really give a fuck about a thing like you? You should have been happy while it lasted and consider yourself lucky they didn’t take advantage of you - though you would have probably enjoyed it with how desperate you were being - then they'd discard you, not anything new with them --"

"Don't! Hyungs.. Hyungs are not like that..!" Jungkook knew before those words left his mouth that he just wrote himself up for a world of pain.. Or of more pain.. Because when was he not hurting?

But he couldn’t help himself..Hobi-hyung..and even the others...they were not like that. They may have been harsh to Jungkook, but who wouldn’t right? Jungkook just brought that out in people.

But he knew they were kind...they were everything that Juntae was not.

A moment of chilling silence prevailed.

 

Then

"You really are trying to make me furious, huh, baby? Cause you are succeeding. You... You really think they care? You want them to come find you?" he hissed.
"Go ahead. Run to your soulmate. Let's see how long they keep you after they find out who you really are."

There was a jerk, a sharp pop - and Jungkook bit down a scream. His shoulder collapsed.

 

Juntae let him fall.

 

“Next time you even think of reaching out,” Juntae said, stepping over him, “remember what happens when you forget who you belong to.”

Then he left.

The door clicked shut.

 

For a long moment, Jungkook didn’t move. The clock ticked. The city outside kept breathing. Then he forced himself to move. Only a little. The moment he shifted, a scream burned at the back of his throat. He bit it down until his jaw ached.

Every movement felt jagged, the weight of his left arm dragging down like an anchor.

He made it to the bathroom, closing the door softly behind him. The light flickered once before settling into a dim, uneven glow. The mirror’s reflection caught him off guard - his shoulder hung low, bulged where it shouldn’t. He could see it trembling faintly beneath the skin - the socket empty, the head of the bone pushed forward, a wrong kind of hollow in the muscle that should have rounded it.

He couldn’t go to a hospital. This was, of course, part of the punishment. He has to bear with it. And he can't risk someone noticing. Not after Juntae's nurse friend treated him once and Juntae strictly forbade him to ever step foot into his hospital. He couldn’t let anyone see. Not let any questions be raised. Not again.

He breathed through his teeth. “It’s fine,” he whispered, though it came out tight, small. “You can fix it.”

His breath came in short, uneven bursts. His hand shook when he turned the lock.

He’d done this once before - years ago maybe? It hadn’t gone well. He remembered the sound it made, the scream that slipped out before he’d bitten it back. The bruise that had spread like spilled ink up his neck afterward.

He crouched now, back to the cold tile, trying to steady his breathing. “It’s fine,” he whispered, voice trembling. “It’s fine, you can do it.”

But his hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

He braced his wrist around the edge of the sink, pulling his arm forward, slow, the way he half-remembered from that other, long forgotten night. The pain was instant - white, blinding. His chest seized. The edges of his vision pulsed black.

He stopped, gasping, the room spinning around him.

He tried again, slower. Every inch felt like tearing through fire. His teeth sank into his lip until he tasted blood. Then, a sound - a heavy, muffled pop, deep in his shoulder.

He froze. The pain changed - not gone, but deeper now, a heavy throb that filled his whole chest.

For a long time he didn’t move. Just sat there on the bathroom floor, hand pressed to the side of his neck, breathing through the tremors in his body.

When he finally looked down, the skin was already blooming purple - he knew deep bruising would pool beneath the collarbone, spreading toward the side of his neck soon. It's fine. He can hide it with his hoodie. He just had to keep his hood up and head down.

It would hurt for days. He knew that. He couldn’t lift it without giving himself away. But it was back in place. That was enough.

He exhaled shakily and reached to wipe his face. That’s when he felt it - a sharp sting in his right hand.

He froze.

He looked down. Two of his fingers were bent wrong, faintly swollen, one already purpling. When he tried to move them, a deep, sickening pain throbbed through the knuckles.

Broken.

It hit him harder than the shoulder.

The pain of the shoulder made him momentarily forget about how Juntae rained down blunt force on his hand - the event now felt far away. But the pain made it real.

His shoulder he could hide - a loose hoodie, a careful posture. Pain he could swallow.

But his hand…his hand he used. His hand could betray him. He looked down at his left hand that still held a soft shine of the leftover burn tissue of weeks ago.

Now he flexed his wrist again and nearly gagged from the pain. Panic rose up his throat, thin and wild.

No, no, no --

He pressed his hand to his chest, holding it there like that could undo it. His breathing quickened. He tried to straighten the fingers, but they wouldn’t move. They stayed bent, useless, throbbing in time with his heartbeat. The skin along his knuckles split, small cuts blooming red.

 

Tears burned hot behind his eyes. Not from the pain, but from the realization that this was something he couldn’t fix.

He sat there in the dim light, his left shoulder throbbing, his right hand, which had at least two broken fingers, held against his chest - the air heavy, his reflection blurred in the mirror across the room.
Jungkook stood in front of the mirror again.

He whispered to his reflection -

"I didn't mean to upset him."

"I was stupid."

"He just lost his temper."

And then, after a pause-

"...It's my fault."

He turned off the bathroom light before leaving, letting the dark swallow the room - the bruises, the trembling, the truth.

Careful, silent, pretending he hadn’t just put himself back together.

 

-*-*-*-*-*-

[Present]

 

Jimin was running late to his late-night class slot, coffee in hand, when he turned the corner near the back building of the university and nearly collided with someone rushing past.

"Watch it-" he snapped, then stopped short.

 

It was Jungkook.

 

Jungkook froze, stumbling back. “I-I’m sorry,” he mumbled quickly, eyes down

The younger boy recoiled automatically, the folder in his left hand crumpled from how hard he'd been gripping it. His right hand tucked inside his hoodie that drowned him. Like always.

Jimin's jaw clenched.

He hadn't seen him up close since the convenience store incident-and the sight was enough to make him stop walking.

Jungkook looked thinner. Paler.
What unnerved Jimin though... was that there was a faint greenish bruise just beneath the collar of his hoodie... He didn't know how he even caught sight of it with the way the kid was, quite deliberately, tucking his head down.

Jimin couldn't stop his mind from registering...He looked...tired.

Now, he wished he hadn’t.

Because the younger boy smiled.
He smiled like nothing was wrong.

“Hyung,” he said softly, the word fragile. “I…hope your class goes well.”

And before Jimin could answer, he turned and walked away.
Jimin stood there, pulse hammering.

He should’ve said something. Should’ve asked anything. Like, since when did Jimin allow him to call him hyung? But he knew that...no matter how hard he said it to himself, he didn't really hate it as much as he was trying to.

And that's what scared him. Scarred his pride. And his pride burned too hot and the words never came.

 

-*-*-*-*-

That night, the image still clung to him.

 

When he walked into the flat, Hoseok was on the couch, the TV dark. His expression distant, unreadable.

“You okay?” Jimin asked, kicking off his shoes.

No response. Jimin took a slow step closer and softly placed himself near his Hoseok hyung. But the elder didn’t curl him up in his warmth like he always used to.

Guess the 'always' they knew was changing.

And for whom?

Jimin felt anger coil in his stomach.

Jimin exhaled, arms crossing. “You’re still thinking about him, aren’t you? When he's just been going around doing whatever while you coop yourself up to punish yourself for crimes you haven’t even done."

Hoseok’s eyes flickered, the only implication that seemed to have caught his attention - “You saw him?”

“Yeah. At campus.” Jimin’s voice hardened. “Looked like shit.” He said it to sound as angry as he felt. But he didn’t know why it sounded like he was... concerned.

Cause he was definitely not.

Silence. The words hung heavy between them.

“Still caring about how he's doing? Still defending him?” Jimin pressed, the edge in his voice sharper now. “Even now?”

“I’m not defending anything,” Hoseok said quietly. “But every time you talk about him, it’s like you’re angry he exists.”

“I am angry!” Jimin snapped. “Because he lied, Hoseok! Because he said you were soulmates, and behaved like you hung the moon for him while the whole time, he was with someone else. When you've been honest and gave your whole self to him! And now--now you sit here like he broke your heart!”

Hoseok stood slowly, voice low. “He did break my heart.”

Jimin faltered. Hoseok didn’t stop.

“And I’m still the one wondering if he’s eating. If he’s sleeping. If someone’s hurting him.”

The words hit Jimin harder than he wanted to admit. He didn't know if hoseok meant anything by the last words. But what scared him is that he himself tried to find meaning in them...dreading that... there was one. He turned away, jaw tight.

“I just--” He dragged a hand through his hair. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Hoseok didn’t reply.

Because neither of them wanted to say what they both knew.

They weren’t angry anymore.

They were scared.

 

-*-*-*-*-

[Later That Week]

 

“He looked like a ghost,” Taehyung said suddenly.

Everyone turned. Everyone being Jimin, Yoongi and Namjoon. The others still out.

Jimin frowned. “Who?”

“Jungkook.”

Namjoon closed the book in his lap. “You saw him?”

“Outside the studio,” Taehyung murmured. “Passing by.”

“And?” Namjoon’s voice was careful.

“He looked…hollow. Like his eyes weren’t focusing.”

“Starving artist trope,” Jimin scoffed, half-heartedly. “Don’t fall for it.”

Taehyung didn’t answer. He just stood and left the room.

No one stopped him.

 

-*-*-*-*-

The next time Jin saw Jungkook, it wasn’t planned.

He was at the pharmacy across from the studio, looking for his migraine meds and also stocking up on some for their little home emergency box. The air smelled faintly of disinfectant and sugar-free gum.

When he turned to check the shelves, he saw him.
Hood pulled up. Shoulders drawn tight. His face barely visible. But his presence so quiet that it screamed that it was him. Jungkook.

 

But Jungkook didn’t see him.

 

He was reaching for a box of pain-relief patches with his trembling left hand.

Something inside Jin went still.

He thought about the last time he and Yoongi had seen the burn. About how, weeks later, Namjoon had mentioned-quietly, almost guiltily - that Jungkook had two broken fingers he was trying to hide. What stuck with him were the words that Namjoon uttered softly at the end, like he himself was unsure what he meant by them...

“Hyung, sometimes...I think if we’re so busy trying not to get hurt again that we’ve stopped seeing when someone else already is."

The words haunted him.

And now they sent warning bells off in his head.

But...Jin didn’t call out.

Didn’t move.

He just watched as Jungkook paid, thanked the cashier and left.

The door closed softly behind him.

Jin exhaled. The box in his hand felt heavier somehow. The dull ache behind his eyes wasn’t from the headache anymore.

 

-*-*-*-*-

Taehyung had been loitering in the aisles for nearly ten minutes, pretending to browse. He wasn’t sure what he was even looking for - well, he was looking for something. But he couldn’t find it so. He was loitering still.

His fingers trailed absently along the shelves until a quiet voice broke through the hum of the lights.

“Are you looking for those peach vitamin drinks?”

Taehyung turned.

Jungkook stood a few feet away, hands tucked into the sleeves of his hoodie, voice low and careful.

For a beat, Taehyung wanted to ask how he knew. But he didn’t. He just nodded once.

“Aisle three,” Jungkook said softly. “Bottom shelf. We rearranged their stocking place.”

His tone wasn’t cold. Just distant. Strained around the edges. Like every word had to pass through something fragile first.

“Thanks,” Taehyung muttered, then turned toward the aisle without another word.

Yoongi didn’t follow.

He lingered near the instant noodle display, pretending to read the packaging, eyes flicking up every few seconds.

Jungkook didn’t look at him.

But Yoongi saw things anyway -- the way Jungkook reached with only one arm, careful not to lift the other too high, the faint hitch in his breath when he stretched too far and the subtle pressure of his palm against his ribs when he thought no one noticed.

And when Jungkook shifted slightly, Yoongi caught a glimpse of - a splint? - beneath the sleeve. He wasn’t sure.

They met again at the register.

No one spoke extra words.

Jungkook read out the total, voice even but faintly breathless. His skin looked pale under the fluorescent light, lips dry. He handed them their change with that same fragile courtesy.

They didn’t move to leave immediately.
And Jungkook…looked at them. Just for a moment.

A soft - dare they think - a hopeful look? The kind that reached out without moving, as if begging someone - anyone - to see him.

But before either could say anything, the bell over the door chimed.

They turned.

And came face to face with Juntae.

“Oh, Hello there. ” Juntae said lightly, smiling that practiced smile. “What a coincidence. I keep running into Namjoon-ah’s pack these days.”

Yoongi’s mouth went dry. Taehyung forced a stiff smile, exchanged the barest polite words - just enough to be social.
And then they left. Quickly. Too quickly.

Like neither of them wanted to look back.
Because somewhere deep inside - they didn’t want to see.

If they had, they would’ve seen Juntae step closer, that same easy smile softening as his hand reached out -
and the way every muscle in Jungkook’s body went rigid, screaming silently for them to stay.

 

-----

They forgot the soju.

Halfway down the street, Taehyung rummaged through the bag and cursed.
“Hyung. Shit. We didn’t get the soju.”

Yoongi stopped walking. “You wanna go back?” Taehyung asked, shoving his hands into his hoodie.

Yoongi didn’t answer. He was already turning around.

 

---

The store was quiet when they returned. Same dull hum of ceiling lights. Same flicker in the corner bulb.

Jungkook was still behind the counter.

Still small. Still quiet. But this time - he didn’t look up.

Neither of them said anything. They passed each other like ghosts.

Yoongi grabbed the soju. Taehyung picked up a random bag of chips they didn’t need.

When they approached the counter again, Jungkook straightened instinctively, posture stiff but somehow his face still tilted out of sight. The hoodie drowning him...hiding him.

“Did you forget something?” he asked softly - the kind of politeness that sounded rehearsed.

Taehyung nodded faintly, placing the chips down, eyes fixed anywhere but Jungkook’s face.

Yoongi placed the bottle down. “Just these.”

Jungkook scanned it. His hands trembled but his motions stayed precise. He reached for the bag - careful, deliberate -

When --

A crash.

A metallic clatter as a full shelf of canned coffee toppled behind the counter, spilling across the floor in a clanging cascade.

Taehyung jolted. Yoongi flinched.

Jungkook spun around too fast - too sharp. The movement wrenched his shoulder.

He gasped.

His hoodie slipped, just for a second.

And Yoongi saw it.

A bruise - yellowish - purple-black - spread across the side of Jungkook’s neck.
But what drew their eyes even more...was how his lips, pale a while ago , held a faint trace of blood.

And where the newer bruise was starting to form on his right cheek - red and uneven, edged with the faint scrape of fingernails.

He dropped to the floor, scrambling to gather the fallen cans.
“I-I’m sorry,” he whispered, voice shaking. “I didn’t see--I’ll pick it up, I promis--"

His voice cracked on the last word.

Neither Yoongi nor Taehyung moved.

When Jungkook finally stood again, hoodie tugged back into place, his face was pale.
He finished scanning, hands trembling and pushed the receipt forward.

“Thank you,” he said softly.
Then bowed.

That same small, automatic bow he gave everyone.

Even after everything.

Even to the people who had abandoned him.

 

---

The door shut behind them.

Neither spoke.

They walked in silence for a while - past the pools of streetlight, down the slick pavement.

Yoongi stopped first.

“You saw it.”

Taehyung didn’t answer. His eyes were wide, stunned.

“He was fine when we first went in,” Yoongi said, voice tight. “No blood on his mouth. And that bruise - looked like someone scratched him up."

Still no reply.

Taehyung just stared straight ahead, the air visible in his breath.

Then quietly -

“And he was hiding that shoulder bruise -- again…wasn’t he?” Taehyung didn't have to say - like the burn, the broken fingers...and what else?

Yoongi’s jaw clenched. His hands curled into fists in his coat pockets.

“His face… it wasn’t there before that guy showed up.”

Taehyung turned to him, voice low but sure.
“The doctor?”

Yoongi’s nod was almost imperceptible. “Yeah.”

They stood there for a long time, the night pressing in cold and heavy.

Neither moved.

Finally, Yoongi muttered under his breath, voice rough--

“Fuck.”

Taehyung didn’t respond.

But something cracked inside both of them.

 

And this time -

They didn’t look away.

Chapter Text

The apartment was quiet in that tired, late-evening way - not peaceful, just heavy.

The kind of silence that fills in the gaps where words should’ve been said months ago.

Yoongi leaned against the counter, arms folded. His hands fiddled with a lighter - he needed a smoke. But he needed to be in this room right now more than anything. He looked up and observed the others.

Namjoon sat at the table, glasses pushed into his hair, a pile of half-marked essays spread in front of him. His tea had gone cold hours ago, untouched.

Jin stood at the sink, rinsing a glass he’d already washed too many times.

Jimin sat half-slouched on the couch, pretending to scroll.

Taehyung perched on the counter by the stove, phone in his lap, screen dark. But, like he had felt the gaze, he looked up at Yoongi at that moment.

No one spoke.
But a decision was made over that eye-contact.

Then, just like that, the words that has been hanging like a heavy weight on their minds, found a voice -

"He’s not okay."

Yoongi’s voice cut through the still air - steady, low. The kind of tone that didn’t invite argument.

Namjoon looked up.

Jin paused, hand hovering over the faucet. “Who?” he asked, though he already knew the answer.

Yoongi’s eyes lifted. “Jungkook.”

Taehyung’s fingers stopped tapping against his thigh. The silence shifted - tense, expectant.

Namjoon leaned forward. “You saw him again?”

“Last night,” Yoongi said. “At the store.”

Taehyung’s voice followed, softer. “A whole shelf of canned coffee suddenly toppled over. And... In his rush to stop the mess...his hoodie slipped.”

Jin frowned. “And?”

Yoongi’s reply was flat. “Bruises. One on his neck, another on his lip. Shoulder looked… wrong. Like he couldn’t move it.”

His words sounded clinical, like he himself was still processing it.

 

Jin’s brows knit together. “It could’ve been a fall, mayb--”

 

Yoongi’s head snapped up. “That wasn’t from a fall, hyung.”

 

The words carried weight - enough to quiet everyone again.

 

Taehyung rubbed his palms together slowly. “The bruise on his shoulder, it was bad but... it looked old. But the one on his face… wasn’t.” He looked at Yoongi, and something wordless passed between them.

Jimin, who's been watching the conversation fold out - narrowed his eyes and said, "Would you both stop being cryptic? Just say what you want to clearly."

But he knew, that a pit has started to form in his stomach...the bruise...

 

Taehyung looked at Yoongi again before gritting his hands tightly. His words rolled out sharper now. "Yoongi and I, we went to the store and he was fine the first time we were paying, well not fine but, ya. Then, we forgot something and went to get it back - the bruise on his face? It appeared within that time frame. It was starkly visible - the scrape of fingers that bloomed on his face - it also caused his lips to split open."

"....and right when we left for the first time, it was that man, Juntae, who was last with him."

Taehyung finally took a long breath...like he had been talking on a fast-forwarded recorder. Like he finally got something off his chest.

A beat of silence. Like a plea for someone to grab onto the meaning.

Namjoon caught it. “What are you two implying?

 

Yoongi’s jaw tightened. “We’re not implying anything. It’s right there.”

 

The silence that followed again felt like something cracking.

 

Jimin sighed from the couch, rubbing his temple. “You don’t know that, Yoongi-hyung. We can’t just assume.”

Yoongi turned to him. “You think we both imagined it?”

“I think you’re reading too much into it,” Jimin shot back, his voice holding something indiscernible. “He’s not a kid anymore. Maybe he just got hurt--"

Taehyung’s voice came out sharper than anyone expected. “Maybe he got hurt. And maybe it’s not the first time.”

“We can’t go storming into his life every time he looks tired. You can’t make everything our business!" Jimin’s tone rose, but it came out more like defense than disbelief.

But he asked himself, who was he defending really? Juntae-ssi?

Or himself?

 

Taehyung looked up then, eyes cold. “Yeah. And you’re the one pretending you don’t care just because it’s easier that way.” Jimin flinched - because it hit on the spot.

“Hey,” Namjoon said softly, but no one really heard him.

Taehyung leaned forward. “He looked like he couldn’t even lift his arm, hyung. You should’ve seen him.”

Namjoon ran a hand through his hair, weary. “Look, I get it, okay? I do. But we can’t throw accusations at someone of…that - without knowing for sure. It’s serious. We need...something concrete.”

Yoongi let out a low laugh, but there was no humor in it. “What kind of ‘concrete’ do you want, Joon? A fucking hospital record? Because it looks like the kid's going towards that very soon"

That made everyone take a sharp breath. The gravity of the situation.. And what it could mean for Jungkook.

Jin put the glass down a little too carefully. “Even if you’re right, what can we do? March up to him and demand answers? That’s not how this works. Especially...if we're the ones asking."

They all felt that...in that moment - that even if Jungkook was in a harsh place - would he really open up to them? People who had not left one chance to criticise him?

Yoongi muttered, “Still, if it keeps him alive, yeah, maybe we should.”

Jimin shook his head, exasperated. “You can’t force someone to talk if they don’t want to.”

"And what if he doesn’t even know he needs help anymore?” Taehyung’s voice was soft this time - soft in a way that hurt more.

That silenced everyone for a beat.

Then Namjoon spoke again, slow and deliberate. “You can’t talk about him like he doesn’t know any better, Tae. He’s… stubborn. You’ve seen it. Even when I asked him about his broken fingers - the day I knew, even had evidence, that something was wrong - he swore he was fine. Smiled right through it.”

His voice dropped lower. “He’s not a kid, he's twenty. He’s lived alone for years. Paid for his studies, worked jobs to survive. He’s…more mature than most people even our age. If he doesn’t want to talk, we can’t just step in and tell him we know better.”

Taehyung clicked his tongue, the sound sharp in the quiet.
He looked unconvinced, tapping his heel against the
counter. "Yeah, well, maybe someone should’ve known better for him.”

Then suddenly -

 

He went still. Like something clicked in his mind.

 

“Wait,” he said. “Twenty?”

 

Namjoon blinked, confused. “Yeah.”

Taehyung frowned. “But he’s a third-year? Like me and Jimin? He should be our age then. At least Twenty-two.”

Namjoon paused, thinking. “Ah. No, right - he started early. Skipped a year or two. He was a merit student. I...talked to some of his professors...once, they had only good things to say about him. Quiet but promising." Namjoon's voice slowed down - like he was guilty of something...of showing interest into learning about Jungkook unprompted.

"-- Hoseok said he’ll turn twenty-one in… October, I think. Or September.” He added.

Something in Taehyung’s face darkened.

The others noticed.

Jin asked quietly, “What is it?”

Taehyung hesitated, then spoke, voice low. “Juntae… he’s your acquaintance, right, hyung? How old is he? Twenty-four/five?”

Namjoon blinked, still not following.

Namjoon shook his head. “No, he's older. A few months younger than Jin-hyung, I think. So…twenty-seven. Why?”

Taehyung’s voice sharpened, urgent now. “What do you actually know about him?”

Namjoon frowned, taken aback by the tone. “Not much. Met him about two years ago really..."

"Oh, did you meet him while you were serving?" Jimin suddenly asked, he didn’t know where Taehyung was going with these questions but he too has always been curious about the connection between Juntae and Namjoon.

"Ah, no. He didn’t serve. He's actually an American citizen. His mother's american and his dad's the one who's Korean. They're divorced though. So Juntae came to Korea when he was 16-17, I guess. His dad’s a businessman. Big name in the industry actually. But they’re not close. We met first at one of those charity events - my parents and his father's family are business partners. And - He has a younger half - brother, who's apparently the heir to the enterprise.

He's been here with a F-5, so even though he's not korean citizen - he's indefinitely a resident. He's a Surgeon now. And he's making his name out there quite well too. He has always been polite - professional but friendly. Yea, that’s about it.”

Yoongi tilted his head, looking at Taehyung again. “Okay, and what does any of that matter?”

Jimin added, a little impatiently, “Yeah, tae, and I hope you’re not hung up on him being seven years older or something. That’d be a bit hypocritical, don’t you think?”

Taehyung gaze cut to him and held for a long moment - so long that Jimin shifted, uncomfortable.

Then, quietly, he Said “Jimin, it was one thing being cold to him. Hell, I was cold to him too. But...do you really not care? Or do you specifically make it the case not to even remember anything about him?”

Jimin’s head jerked up. “What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

Taehyung looked down, voice rough. “When we first met Juntae… he said he and Jungkook had been together for four years.”

The silence that followed wasn’t sharp - it was slow, sinking, heavy.

It didn’t need explaining.

Jungkook was twenty now. Almost twenty-one.

Four years ago, Juntae was...at least twenty- three

And Jungkook

Jungkook was sixteen -- maybe seventeen.

No one said it aloud.

But they all heard it.

The word that hummed between them like something electric and vile.

 

Predator.

 

Jin exhaled shakily, leaning against the counter. “This is… this is all messed up.”

Taehyung’s voice came next, shaking only slightly. “That’s it. We can’t keep pretending. He’s hurting him, and we’re still standing here doing nothing.”

Jimin said but, for the first time today, his voice wavered. “But… are we sure? I mean, maybe--”

Taehyung rounded on him. “Is there anything else you need to see, Jimin? How much proof do you need before you stop looking away?”

Jin tried to steady the air. “That’s a strong claim, Tae. We don’t… know everything.”

Yoongi’s voice came low, colder than any of them had ever heard it.

"Really, Hyung? What else is there to know? You really still think he’s the good guy here? The ‘savior’? "

"...Because as far as I’m concerned, hyung… I don’t think good men put their hands on hungry, half-grown orphans who never had anyone to protect them.”

 

The silence that followed didn’t fade - it settled.

 

And no one tried to fill it for some time.

The air felt wrong - too thick, too still. It was like the weight of what yoongi had just said settled over everything, pressing into their lungs.

Taehyung’s throat worked as he tried to swallow it all down.

“We… we can’t just keep watching.”

His voice sounded foreign, cracked.

Finally, Namjoon leaned forward, “Then we don’t. We step in.”
There was no fire in his tone - just something cold, sharpened by guilt.

“But we have to be careful,” he added, quieter. “If he’s been…made to believe this is normal, he won’t see it as wrong. Not at first.”

Yoongi's jaw tightened. “Then we show him it’s not.”

Jin let out a shaky exhale. “We don’t even know how far it’s gone. We could push him away without meaning to.”

Yoongi’s laugh came low, bitter. “He’s already gone, hyung. Just not far enough for us to admit it"

He paused, eyes heavy.

“Because admitting it would mean facing the fact that we let our pride matter more than he did.”

None of them wanted to picture what “gone” might mean.

Namjoon stared at the floor. “We’ll need something real. Proof. Something that can’t be twisted or denied.”

His voice sounded steadier now - but his hands were shaking.
“The nurse at the infirmary said he hurts himself a lot. Said he’s clumsy. Maybe we start there. See if I could get my hands on some records. Anything.”

Taehyung gave a humorless smile. “Funny, isn’t it? Everyone saw him breaking apart and just called it clumsy.”

No one disagreed.
Because they had done the same.

Jin’s hand trembled slightly on the edge of the sink. “All this time… we thought he was just distant...lying. Turns out he was just surviving.”

Namjoon’s voice cracked at the edges. “What if...we’d let him in before. Maybe then… we could’ve kept him away from...that man, while we figured this out. Maybe...he’d have trusted us enough to talk..”

“Don’t,” Jin cut in gently, but his voice was unsteady. “Don’t do that to yourself. It’ll kill you if you do.”

Yoongi looked up then, eyes distant. “Doesn’t matter. It’s killing him either way.”

They all fell silent again.

And in that silence - heavy, suffocating, honest - a fragile, painful agreement settled between them.

They would help him. Somehow.

Even if it was too late to be forgiven for how long they hadn’t.

When they finally drifted to their rooms, it wasn’t sleep that waited --

just the echo of two words, looping over and over, until dawn crept through the blinds:

What if.

 

-*-*-*-*-

Next morning.

Jimin was the first one awake.

If you could even call it waking.

He hadn’t really slept - just drifted in and out of a fog, body tired but mind clawing through the same thoughts again and again.

The apartment was muted in that gray pre-dawn light.

Not silent - just haunted by the low hum of the fridge, the tick of the clock. The kind of quiet that made you hear every small thing your chest refused to say aloud.

He padded into the kitchen barefoot, the floor cold beneath him.

Opened the fridge, stared at the inside like he’d forgotten what he came for.

The soft light painted his face pale.

He wasn’t hungry.
He hadn’t been for days, if he was being honest with himself.

But it wasn’t food he was looking for.

He was looking for distraction - anything that wasn’t the sound of Yoongi’s voice saying “That wasn’t from a fall.”

Anything that wasn’t the image of Jungkook’s mouth splitting open around a smile.

Jimin slammed the fridge door shut. The sound echoed through the quiet apartment.

His pulse stuttered.
He gripped the counter, knuckles whitening.

He hadn’t told anyone.

And he didn’t want to admit to himself even now. That what kept him up last night...wasn’t just the realization they've all had.

But the memory of what he’d seen that very same morning.

That he'd seen him.

Jungkook.

Because if he told them, he’d have to admit that he saw it.

And if he admitted that -

He’d have to admit he looked away.

---

Yesterday morning.

He hadn’t even planned to cross paths with Jungkook.
It just happened - outside the art building, under a thin wash of morning sun.

Jungkook had been walking slow, bag slung over one
shoulder, hoodie half-zipped. A mask on.
Their eyes met. Just for a second.

Jungkook hesitated - like he didn’t know whether to greet him or apologize for existing.

“Jimin-hyung,” he’d said quietly, like he didn't mean to..like it slipped out.

Jimin remembered thinking, absurdly, that he should just keep walking. That looking too long would make something in him unravel.

So he did. He walked right past. Almost.

But then, something in him turned - pride, guilt, something uglier.

And before he could stop himself, the words were out -
“You really don’t give up, do you?”

He didn’t even know what he meant by it. Maybe he just wanted to wound before he could feel wounded himself.

Jungkook had paused, turned slightly.

The light hit his face - and that’s when Jimin saw it.

The faint red-purple bloom creeping out from under the mask.

His heart had stuttered.

Something in him - instinct, memory, guilt? --wanted to reach out. To ask, to touch. He almost did...

But Jungkook flinched first.

That single movement - so small, so fast - was enough to freeze Jimin’s hand mid-air. It brought him back to Himself.

He’d laughed then. Or something close to it. Sharp, defensive. Trying to hide his own misstep.

“Still playing victim?”

The words had left his mouth like shards.
He didn’t even know who he was protecting with them.

And Jungkook?

He had smiled.

Softly. Distantly. Like someone remembering a kindness from a dream they no longer believed in.

“I’m not playing anything,” he’d said.

And then he walked away.

---

Now, in the dim kitchen, Jimin stood with his palms pressed to the counter.

That same smile wouldn’t leave his head.

He’d hoped against hope... that maybe they were wrong.
That maybe Yoongi and Taehyung were reading too much into it.

Because he knew if they were right…

If all those bruises weren’t accidents, if that flinch meant what he thought it did…

Then he wasn’t just a bystander.

He was complicit.

 

~~~