Archive of Our Own

"Snow Tower Three-Three-One-Zero, Spacecraft November-India-Xray Seven-Three."

"3310 to NIX 73, identify."

"Navigator 81, STS 42-7, over."

"Copy that. Proceed with status report."

"Live cargo prepared for touchdown, no complications so far. LOX stable. Clear range ahead, no debris. Request for landing conditions, over."

"NIX 73, follow Minor Current over M12 until you reach Layer 3. A7 visibility is 85, pursue suggested Eastern route, over."

"Roger."

The room was clotted with darkness. Slumber settled in the air like a heavy blanket: sticking to the walls, muffling the everlasting hum that lived beyond. The tiny dot in the corner of the ceiling flickered quietly, a steady white light guarding the crew quarters in their sleep. Silence grew sweet and lingered like a cloud for a while, carrying the gentle sighs of a man into his dreams.

In spite of repose, white turned into red after a blurry set of hours. The dot expanded into a flashing ray, colouring the upper corner with a light too vivid to ignore. Then, it was joined by a blaring sound, piercing the night and everyone that nestled in its comfort.

Taehyung jolted awake, the sudden alert shooting tension through his body like an electric current. A harsh inhale had followed, a stifled groan into the pillow. Taehyung blinked repeatedly until his misty eyes got sharper and the sting at his waterline subsided. And then, through the mild aching of his head, he listened to the repeating announcement from the speakers.

"Attention! Code Grey. Spacecraft N-I-X, number 7-3, scheduled for landing at Area 7. All first responders of the Eastern Base must report to Station N by 03:30 am and await departure. That includes: Team Delta and Team Beta. Attention! Code Grey. Spacecraft N-I-X, number—"

Taehyung plopped onto his back with a heavy sigh, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. The room was no longer pitch black; not when the console at his left was glowing a hazy white, triggered into action by the alarm. The computer patiently waited for Taehyung to get out of bed, but not without a set of short beeps — a reminder that he should engage with the system at once, and proceed with necessary protocol.

He rolled out of bed and walked up to the desk, squinting. 03:10 am on the world clock monitor. Taehyung could see himself in the screen: his hair a little wild, his chest bare, his face puffy — especially around the eyes. A horrible time to be awake, especially under the circumstances he was in, but there was no use complaining. Taehyung was needed. Taehyung had work to do.

He cleared his throat and straightened up a bit. "SB95-KTH."

The computer came alive completely, its main monitor expanding for better view. The tiny lense above it flashed blue and instantly scanned Taehyung's entire body. The first readings of the day appeared in front of him. Taehyung went to fetch some clothes while the pleasant voice recited the usual.

"Senior Scientist, Agent Kim Taehyung. Body temperature at 36.3 degrees Celsius. Systolic pressure at 110 over diastolic 75 milimetres of mercury. Pulse at 69 beats per minute."

He stopped by the bathroom for a quick mouth cleanse, freshening up his teeth with a flash of anti-bacterial light and mint spray. Taehyung also remembered to empty his bowels while he had the chance.

"Mild dehydration levels detected. Mild tension headache detected. General condition appears stable. Authorization to carry out mission — granted."

Taehyung stumbled back to the desk while pulling on his thermal body suit. It was a bit of a tight fit, but not without reason. The thin fabric stuck to skin like glue once it had a surface to cling to, sealing the body in a thick layer of heat. Taehyung could barely step outside without it, even with all the clothing in the world. Not in the region that he was in, at least. Not on this planet.

"Confirm or deny mission attendance."

Taehyung zipped the upper half of the suit up to his neck. "Attendance confirmed."

"Answer recorded."

Taehyung touched a control pad to lift the blackout blinds just by a little, and immediately regretted his decision. Light penetrated the gloom in such stark contrast, Taehyung immediately jerked his head back with a curse, face scrunched. He shut the blinds. He could barely make out the outlines of a lansdcape with all that brightness.

"Relay outdoor conditions." He ordered, pressing on a hidden shelf to slide from the nearby wall. He needed some protective lenses and hefty glasses if he wanted to so much as see the outside world, or maintain his ability to perceive things overall. Taehyung's retina sensitivity could only mean one thing — the medication was wearing off. He needed to endure a few more days before he'd get another set of vital shots.

"Day 60 of the year 2826 on planet NSI 0613. White season progression at 78 percent. Current temperatures in Region 7 feel like -40 degrees Celsius. UV index at level 8."

Taehyung lathered his face with heavy UV cream while the system chattered away, lightly slapping his cheeks into wakefulness. Then, he quickly brushed his black hair to look a bit more presentable. Less of a bird's nest and more of a free-form mop.

"Visibility is at 40 kilometres. Wind speed fluctuates from 43 to 57 kilometres per hour. Humidity levels are at 40 to 49 percent. Chances of precipitation are negative."

"Complete said tasks in my absence." Taehyung clasped a pocket belt around his hips and a watch around his wrist. "Scent room with fresh laundry — the usual amount. Charge earphones fully. Remove dust from all surfaces."

"Tasks recorded."

He slid into his knee-high boots, stuffed a pair of gloves into the pockets of his coat and left his shades to rest on the top of his head. All of the open wardrobe doors and shelves slid back into the walls after Taehyung was done, vanishing as if knowing they weren't going to be used.

"Thank you." Taehyung mumbled, rushing towards the exit. "End of session."

The sliding doors shut closed, locking themselves until the owner of the cabin returned.

"Session ended." The system pronounced belatedly. "Have a good mission, Agent Kim."

The hallway lights were starting to enhance as agents surged from their quarters, slowly adjusting intensity for their eyes to prepare for what lied ahead. Taehyung slipped into the elevator at his end of the building, quietly greeting a few colleagues inside as they all made their way underground. To the tunnels of the seventh region.

The speed train that ran between bases was waiting for another group of people, swallowing them into its silver belly at once. Every agent scanned their palms upon entry, notifying the system of who showed up to the call at what time, and who was possibly left behind in the building. None of the crew members were normally or deliberately late, but when it came to sudden alerts like these, a certain level of fuss was inevitable. Despite how orderly the preparation and assembly process really was, the ones being prepared and assembled were still human. Confusion wasn't an issue, given how well-trained the workers were for emergency cases. No matter how put-together and cooperative each team truly was, time was still a potential issue. Even if time, as a concept, moved rather differently anywhere outside of planet Earth.

The organisation was strict about it, either way, so was the operational system. Latecomers were often restricted access to tasks and facilities, unable to proceed with the needed steps due to a lack of efficiency. If the system deemed someone underprepared, unreliable or dysfunctioning, they were no longer welcome into missions until proven otherwise. Until they could prove once again that they were valuable members, and could contribute greatly to the bigger picture they all strived for collectively.

The doors slid to a close after a warning signal. The crew was safely strapped to their seats as the coach zoomed forward. Taehyung pushed a spot on the floor for the water dispenser to come up by his side from below. He took a few sips and ignored the view from outside the window, choosing to look at his lap or straight ahead.

There was nothing to see inside the tunnels, other than a murky darkness and an occasional gleam that teased the eye. NSI 0613 was mostly ice and rock, deep and largely impenetrable layers of earth that stretched impossibly far. The manmade tunnels— a massive project that took many years to strategise and complete— were hidden low enough beneath the ice, leaving nothing to perceive but darkness and small glimpses of accessory minerals. Rutile, sphene and ilmenite, for the most part, virtually unidentifiable when the train bolted past the uncovered confines.

The ride took no more than eight minutes. When the sum of fifteen people left the train and took the lifts to the surface — the company bus was already there, expecting their arrival.

First thing Taehyung perceived at Station N was blinding daylight and a prickling wind against his face. It was half past three, technically nighttime, by their standards, and yet, there was not an ounce of saturated darkness in the sky. It was entirely bright, milky cerulean above their heads, and terribly difficult for their eyes to take without protection.

He hurried inside the vehicle with the rest, into the safety of heavily tinted windows and heated seats, and observed the continuous landscape. The terrain was both intimidating in its emptiness and calming in its inherent minimalism. Like looking at a blank page, an ice sheet stretching over endless horizons, with just a few obstacles in the way of its pristine state: lonely rock formations, distant mountainsides, eroded landforms and permanently frozen water.

The vastness of space on planet NSI 0613 was overwhelming at times, and would be awfully daunting if it weren't for the occasional human structure, vehicle or machine, disrupting the desolate scenery. That, or the gigantic spacecraft that awaited the teams about forty minutes away from their pick-up point — a blunt reminder that they weren't stranded, after all. That they weren't entirely alone on the freezing exoplanet, light years away from anything remotely classified as "home".

A wall of white dust intensified around the expedition bus, dense and enveloping like smoke. They were closing in on touchdown Area 7. The air was still hazy after the ship came to rest, the heat from the engine and the landing gears stirring up the surface so much — it disturbed the usual clarity of an approaching dawn. And so, a sweeping greyness overcame the territory; leaving the driver of the vehicle to rely on radars alone, in order to make it to the arrival sector.

Members of security were already there when their bus approached the glowing inspection post. The doors parted for two surveyors to enter, scanning the passengers for any changes in vitals. Everyone was extra careful when it came to dealing with "newcomers". They couldn't afford spreading even the meekest virus onto people that have just landed on a foreign planet, for the adaptation period would be extremely dangerous. Especially at a place like NSI 0613, where a healthy human being had to spend weeks inside a special hospital pod, adjusting to the foreign climate, pressure, oxygen levels, and a completely dioriented circadian rhythm. Time and studies have proven than not every person is able to synchronize with their surroundings, in the end, despite how much testing and preparations they might have gone through. If a challenging process like that was also affected by a sudden illness, a fever or allergic reaction, the human body was at risk of not making it out alive.

Each of the fifteen crew members were throroughly scanned to detect abnormalities. Once the indicators seemed safe, they were escorted out of the vehicle for full-body disinfection — into a long tunnel, almost a kilometer's length, serving as a transitional pathway between the bus and the spacecraft. Agents moved forward in a single line, past all decontamination stages that sprayed and beamed on them along the way, and mentally prepared themselves for what they were about to face.

It wasn't their first time greeting new arrivals from outer space. Even Taehyung— who's been a resident on the planet for as little as five years, give or take— knew what to expect from the upcoming encounter. Tranfer missions were a feat, a miracle of sorts, one that people involved could only hope for at the end of the journey. But everybody knew that wasn't always the case. Rather, transportation of any living creatures, from Earth to distant places such as this, was a shot in the dark. It's been attempted a plethora of times, over the course of hundreds of years, and only a small number of those tries were successful.

Taehyung was one of them. A person that survived the lenghty voyage and acclimatised to the foreign planet without much complications. But not all stories were like his. Taehyung hoped that the new batch of agents and subjects could get through at least a week on planet NSI 0613. And that the local cremation bureau won't be busy any time soon.

The group reached a moving walkway at the end of the tunnel, protruding from the massive back of the space vessel. Taehyung couldn't make out its full shape and size from that perspective, but he could recognize the model type based on the rudders, peeking from the sides and above. He saw an older version of a spacecraft like that before, around his second year of working in the seventh region. He remembered that encounter quite well, for it was his first time assisting with arrivals from their home planet. And it was his first time witnessing so many heart failures in the span of a day.

The walkway stirred into action as soon as the first pair of legs approached it. Maintaining an orderly single file, the agents were brought upwards, closer to the ship. The large hatch began to unlock, gliding its heavy doors to opposite sides — slowly revealing the entrance area for the cargo bay of the vessel.

The cold wind was brushing against bodies and thrashing into the walls of the open space. The first two agents to enter the spacecraft's foye were the leaders of each division: Kim Seokjin, leader of Team Beta, and Min Yoongi, leader of Team Delta. They were greeted by the captain of the ship, the pilots and some assisting crew, all exchanging bows with the first responders that gathered for this operation.

With all needed verifications completed, the two teams proceeded to disperse into their own little subgroups: medical staff, veterenary staff and supervising scientists. Guided by the cabin crew through different corridors, the small groups went their separate ways to carry out what they were trained for.

Nurses, physicians and EMTs were immediately lead towards the main deck, life support bags in hand, where new agents were awaiting medical assessment before they could even think of leaving the shuttle. Healthcare professionals had to evaluate and treat every person inside the spacecraft, from the greenest employee to the most experienced cockpit navigator, and safely transport them to the base hospital for prolonged monitoring. Space travel was gruelling in and of itself, but settling into a foreign environment such as this could send any human body into a state of shock. Their goal was to try and prevent any serious complications and provide urgent care on the spot.

Veterenary specialists and technicians, brought to a set of hidden cooler pods in different parts of the bay, were responsible for evaluating and stabilising the condition of the ship's contained "live cargo" — the animals that were transported from planet Earth for the assimilation programme. The sole reason why any of these people were there in the first place, dedicating their time and health to work on NSI 0613 for many consecutive years.

The wildlife preservation program was a dire attempt at naturalising endangered species whose native environments no longer existed on Earth. Such was the case for the North and South Poles in particular. For centuries international scientific communities have fought to conserve a myriad of populations, funding breeding initiatives and planning for an inevitable relocation. NSI 0613 wasn't ideal by any means, too harsh and demanding for any living being to truly feel comfortable in, and yet, the numbers were promising. With the small successes they've observed over the course of thirty-five years, there was some hope in saving the dying natural world of planet Earth. Those wins did not outweigh the losses, but at least they meant there was room for improvement. There was a slim chance that fantasy could become a reality.

It was the 42nd batch of arrivals. The goal was to make sure that at least some of these creatures survived.

Taehyung and the other supervising scientists were there to collect data. All of the detailed documentation that the spacecraft agents have recorded over the course of their flight, containing information on the well-being of both humans and animals, so it could be analysed and applied for future research. All of the subjects' reactions to outside stimulants, effects of long-term travelling, daily physiological, psychological assessments and test results. Other than that, the scientists of Team Beta and Team Delta were also there to take notes on everything that occured during the urgent check-up: current vitals of all types of patients, their chain of reactions to quick examinations, how they interact with the staff and any troubles that may arise in the process.

Given that Taehyung was the only available supervisor from Team Delta, his two colleagues from Team Beta took up the task of assisting the veterinarians. There were much more animals on board than people that time around. There was a lot of ground to cover and information to obtain.

Taehyung quickly found his way to the main deck, following behind two groups of medical personnel. They entered a spacious lounge room where soft couches and coffee tables were notably replaced by safety seats. Such armchairs were necessary for lift offs, turbulences and landing operations. In that ship in particular, NIX 73, they automatically emerged from the floor whenever the situation required, restraining passengers head-to-toe as soon as they were seated. It briefly reminded Taehyung of the his own journey to NSI 0613, except the chairs were built-in to the walls and only halfway automatic. Taehyung flew on a NIX 61, as he recalled.

The agents, about twelve in total, were all sat in lines of four; patient yet somewhat uneasy. The nurses hurried to scan the group for vitals, physicians instantly moving to check on those whose charts and outward appearances seemed more alarming than others'. From what Taehyung understood, a few people were probably nauseous; if the bleak shade of their skin was anything to go by. It was a typical symptom post-landing, and could be easily treated before the urge to vomit even occured.

Some other common things were dizziness, lightheadedness, full-body exhaustion. Taehyung predicted that a portion of agents would have to be rolled out of the shuttle on gurneys and wheelchairs. That's what happened to him, as well.

Taehyung engaged with the spacecraft's computer, scanning his palm by the entrance for a small panel to emerge from below. The system was expecting him, granting Taehyung access to its confidential database with ease. All it took were a few passwords and linking to his own device, before an extensive array of files started pouring in. He made sure to download everything the archive had to offer — all 558 days worth of material.

With the hefty document transfer in motion, Taehyung took his pad to roam the lounge. He received the vital scans of everyone present upon request and went over each individual, writing down their current conditions. Most of the newcomers were relatively stable and their indicators, overall, were within the realms of normalcy. It was a bit too early for ease, but it could serve as a reassuring sign that the new members of The Mission were a rather healthy bunch. Especially compared to previous instances.

He took out a pen and got into the details of each case, quickly gliding the tip against the screen. Within a group of twelve people, Taehyung recorded the following: two individuals with subconjunctival hemorrhages; five with typical symptoms of motion sickness; two with mild hypotension while another two maintained pre-hypertension. Pupillary light reflexes were satisfactory. Tendon reflexes were sufficient throughout. A quick tuning fork test revealed issues with hearing among four agents, while the rest reported no issues.

Psychologically, no obvious signs of distress were detected. Patients were conscious and aware, though some were notably too exhausted or disoriented to properly engage with the specialists.

All in all, only two people out of twelve could be categorised as "fine", while the remaining ten had overlapping symptoms and minor ailments. Good results, Taehyung concluded. Easily treatable.

He returned to the panel to check if the transfer was complete. By the time Taehyung was finished, the computer shut down and sent back to hide beneath the floor — the paramedics have arranged for automated stretchers and wheelchairs to be brought inside the shuttle. It meant the ambulance cars were just outside the spacecraft, and that the healthcare specialists were getting closer to finalising their part of the operation. All that was left to do was assess the conditions of the ship's assisting personnel, engineers, pilots and captain, and they were good to go.

Medical evaluations usually went smoother with more experienced travellers, given that they've developed the stamina for such things over time. It was always the rookie voyagers that concerned experts the most. As much as the myriad of cases were studied by scientists just like Taehyung — sometimes, you couldn't predict how each person would react to landing for the first time in a while; if not ever. It was both a treaded ground and a risk of error for everyone involved. And Taehyung knew too well of what it entailed.

As the majority of medical staff moved their newest patients onto gurneys and chairs, wheeling them towards the exit with the press of a few buttons, a smaller group of personnel rushed down a corridor to the cockpit and session room. They had a few more people left to treat. Taehyung followed suit, though with some delay in his step. He was briefly distracted by the sound of someone struggling to breathe.

He turned his head. Taehyung only had a second to grasp the moment, amidst people's orderly escape — a body fastened onto moving stretchers and a nurse fixing an oxygen mask onto a very pale face. Doing that somewhat pacified the choking, before they vanished from Taehyung's sight completely.

Taehyung had a feeling things were going a bit too well. He'd have to add asphyxiation to someone's evaluation card after he's done with everything else.

The lower oxygen levels on NSI 0613 were sometimes awfully noticeable, especially at first intake. By then, the air was slowly seeping through the open hatch and reached every corner of the spacecraft. It was only a matter of time before someone started feeling restless and short of breath.

He left the emptied lounge and reached the cockpit. The crew managed to do their check-ups almost twice as fast, which meant Taehyung was left to write down the bare minimum. A few headaches, some lightheadedness and a single case of mildly bloodshot eyes. Neurological testings were positive, nothing was out of the ordinary. Only a few of them needed assistance to exit the ship.

They wrapped up with ease, all the responders gathering outside under the shield of the UV-resistant tunnel. The last ones to exit the shuttle were the animals themselves, their low temperature-preserving containers carefully moved down the walkway with forklifts. Semi-trucks were being loaded one by one with these pods, while people were wheeled into a set of large ambulance vehicles.

Team Delta and Team Beta got back to the bus, their next destination being the hospital facilities of the Eastern Base. They had to accompany and help transfer the patients, in order for them to begin their mandatory monitoring. It was important to maintain their well-being and observe their adaptation process. For humans, it was a minimum of two weeks. For wildlife, it was a minimum of two months.

Once seated, Taehyung reached out to tap the shoulder in front of him. Min Yoongi turned around, the faux fur of his black hood grazing his cheekbones.

"Yes, Taehyung?"

"Have you seen the one with the breathing problem? I need to add to the case."

Yoongi hummed, searching through his own notes for an answer. "It was… Kim Namjoon. Started gasping at about 05:34 am."

Taehyung found him inside the registry, an ID popping up along with the health chart. SB94-KNJ, 31, SNU Commission for Nature Preservation. Taehyung added the details of the incident at the bottom of his assessment.

"Anything else?" Taehyung asked.

"Nurses told me before leaving that his blood pressure was about 139/86 during the peak of suffocation. Pulse at 100. Dropped to 102/65 once breathing stabilised, bpm at 73." Yoongi relayed the information, pleasantly monotonous despite the topic. "Mild hyperhidrosis and tremors were observed."

There was some comfort in Yoongi's voice, a gentle coarseness. Taehyung would be lying if he said it didn't ground him from time to time, or kept him afloat. Particularly in moments of excess stimulation, or when his mind wanted to slip out of focus in the most unsuitable moment.

He finished up, finally putting a period on his review. "Thank you, sir."

There was a long pause. Taehyung, already distracted by his open schedule tab, was going through the contents of his upcoming weeks. He took the silence from Team Leader Min as a sign, moving on with his his own thoughts. He knew Yoongi probably turned around by then, as busy as anyone else.

"Did you sleep?"

Taehyung glanced up at the question. Yoongi was still looking at him, concerned in that serious way of his.

"A bit." Taehyung got back to his screen, a barely-audible response escaping his lips.

"Get some rest when we get back. You'll need it."

It was Taehyung's turn to hum. If only it was that easy.

Yoongi turned his head away, leaning against the seat. "If I don't see you at breakfast, Kim Taehyung, we'll be having words."

The right corner of Taehyung's lips sank deeper into his cheek, a flat type of grimace he couldn't control. Taehyung wasn't always keen on eating in the cafeteria with everybody else. Not because the food was bad, but because his room was better. Calmer. Secluded. With no one to prod him or try to engage in meaningless conversations.

"Follow your own principles, Min Yoongi." Beta Team's leader spoke up from the parallel row. It wasn't loud enough to disturb the general vibration of the bus, filled with hushed chatter of the crew, but it rose above the muffled layer of noise. "All the empty noodle cups come from your room and end up in every trash can except the cafeteria's."

"Mind your business, Kim Seokjin." Yoongi replied without sparing a single glance. "No need to obsess over me in public."

Seokjin's chuckle was brief, like a huff. "You wish."

"I really don't."

Taehyung's eyes flickered between them from behind, before eventually looking down. He had a hard time understanding what their deal was. Taehyung wasn't sure what to make of their semi-professional, semi-taunting interactions whenever they occurred, so he tried not to think about them too much. Something told him he wouldn't get it, anyway… Taehyung wasn't exactly well-versed in interpersonal cues. Only with work-related incentives.

The first thing that Namjoon remembered was light. Lots and lots of light seeping into the room, through the thin gaps in the black-out curtains.

He couldn't recall much of what happened. How Namjoon ended up in a hospital bed, where he was exactly and if he actually landed where he was supposed to. Of course, riding a spacecraft was very different from riding a bus— as in, the chances of missing the intended destination were unlikely— but a brief sense of unease still washed over him. Did his people land fine? Was he alive or just dreaming the whole time? For a while, Namjoon couldn't tell. His mind was just as dark as the space he had found himself in.

He couldn't have known it back then, how much he would miss the gloom. How much he would miss obscurity, the navy-indigos that marked the night, the sense of completion and serenity that came after a ripe sunset leaked into twilight. Namjoon didn't realise it then— limp under the whiteness of sheets, drowsy and attached to dripping IV bags, electrodes and oxygen— that those hospital curtains would be the darkest thing he would see for a while. That he'd miss the absence of light that was just so normal, and crave it each time it was taken from him.

NSI 0613 was unlike anything he'd ever experienced, and that's despite the fact that Namjoon dedicated years of his life preparing. To withstand whatever suprises the planet would throw at him, to be prepared for all of its highs, its lows and extremities. Despite everything he did in order to be admitted into the training programme, chosen into The Mission, allocated to a region and given a chance to contibute towards a greater good — Namjoon still felt underprepared, once the symptoms started kicking in.

It was one thing to pass exams on endurance and stamina in the comforts of a replicated environment — a setting, a lab, a training facility with all the necessary equipment. It was another thing to experience what you've been studying on your own skin. To understand what was happening to you in theory, yet to have no control over your body in practice.

NSI 0613 had approximately three seasons, circulating in a so-called year. A 'year' was a loose term, simply left for convenience, since people had nothing better to compare it with. There was no substitute to the manmade concept of time, and so the terminology remained to ease general comprehension. Therefore, a year on NSI 0613 was a flexible thing — a set of fluctuating 'months', with a certain amount of 'days'. Though, calling them days was even more questionable, when time, for most of the planet's year, could not be identified without specific calculations. Because there was nothing to base the passage of time on, when most of the year was stuck in a single mode of a season.

Experts have classified them as such: white season, black season and grey season. White season, on average, lasted about 2 to 2.5 months and consisted of everlasting brightness. Akin to white nights on Earth's Northern and Southern Hemispheres, but amped in intensity. There was nothing romantic or exciting about the light that penetrated this planet in particular, for it was relentlessly illuminated by its biggest star — RV-1231. A powerful force that left little to the imagination, and tested every being on their endurance. There was nowhere left to hide under its rays, and there was no flora to absorb what it had to give. It was simply there to taunt and challenge anyone who dared to face it.

Salvation from light arrived with black season, when RV-1231 was blocked by the planet's satellites — Indigo 31-X7 and Blue 30-L7. The whole planet drowned in darkness anywhere from 3 to 6 months, a continuous stretch of dismal winter that was heavily palpable. It was also a time when precipitations were the most expected, varying from rainfall to hail, before shifting into lasting blizzards. Otherwise, the still periods were disarmingly calm. Enough to remind every individual of where they were; stranded on an orbiting body that would never get warmer, and never get closer to the rest of their people.

And then, at last, the gloom transformed into something familiar. For 4 to 5 months, grey season was the closest resemblance of Earthly conditions. The most "normal" state of time that NSI 0613 could offer. When daylight would last around ten hours, and the night would occupy fourteen. When the days felt balanced, when the structure of the designated hours felt like a reward. When everything seemed right and exactly how it should be, before the illusion eventually dissipated — always to repeat the cycle.

This was a planet of commitment. A land where persistence was essential to keeping a clear head and maintaining one's sanity. A place that couldn't be rushed to change, for its power was greater than any efforts combined to understand it.

It took Namjoon two weeks to stabilise. Get used to the air, get used to the pressure and accept the fact that from now on, he would only feel warmth within a set of designated walls.

Outside of urgent matters, there were different aspects to Taehyung's responsibilities. Active and passive monitoring composed a big portion of his day-to-day.

Active referred to field work and on-site subject/object studying. Passive reffered to research and analysis at a distance. Large chunks of his time were spent actively, outside in the cold, alongside other scientists: searching for samples to use for a variety of tests, observing natural occurences within the lands and learning how the climate influenced the environment. Because all of it affected The Mission, and especially the subjects— or species— directly involved in The Mission.

Whether it was monitoring humans or animals in their most critical moments, like the first few months after landing on NSI 0613, or already in the painstaking process of adaptation to their surroundings — it didn't matter. If it was his shift on the timetable, Taehyung would do it. After all, he was one of the few senior scientists at the base, and his specialisation was needed for every unit to truly thrive: the veterinarians, ecologists, microbiologists, biological engineers, healthcare specialists — whomever. It was his role in research that kept everything together.

That's where passive monitoring came into play. Taehyung sat with his collected data from all sides and projects for endless months, trying to analyze their progress and oversee potential shortcomings. It was a lot to do on his own, but he was used to the workload. He couldn't be picky out in space, nobody could. Everyone had their plates full, sharing some duties and tackling the rest independently. Every person was utilised to the best of their abilities, even if it meant being stretched thin most of the time.

Taehyung worked quite well under pressure. He was laser-focused on everyday tasks and maintained his orderly pace with quiet determination. Nothing and no one was able to sway him, because all that Taehyung really cared about was doing his job.

At least, that's what he liked to believe.

"Kim Taehyung."

The voice was so distant, so muffled, it failed to register in Taehyung's head the first time. There was a thick fog between him and the outside world, and Taehyung wasn't planning on dissolving that wall any time soon. He was too deep in the zone. Taehyung's mind was lost between numbers and spread sheets.

Somebody cleared their throat, then tried again. A little louder. Deeper.

"Kim Taehyung."

Taehyung's head jerked up from the comforts of his palm. The mist in his eyes was hastily rubbed off with finger pads, sneaking behind the lenses of his glasses. He propped them back into place, against the bridge of his nose, and stood up as fast as he could; knocking his hip bone against the side of the desk.

"What's going on?" Taehyung mumbled, noticing Leader Min first, then trying to ignore the searing pain at his left. He probably looked a little constipated, squeezing his jaw while holding onto a straight face, but kept at it. Taehyung could practically feel the bruise forming on his hip.

Yoongi raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment. It was neither the place nor time, standing in the workroom facilities. There were three other agents present, clicking away on their keyboards in different parts of the hall. The radio filled the background, murmuring conversations between communication towers and spacecrafts, regions and bases.

"Thought I'd catch you here." Yoongi said, hands in the pockets of his heavy duty jacket. "I wanted to introduce you to somebody."

Taehyung didn't get a chance to ask another question. His thoughts escaped him once a figure emerged from behind the desk partition. A tall man, sun-kissed, dirty blond. He had a strangely familiar face, Taehyung found, and he was clad in their usual uniform — all-black fitted thermal pants and zip-up combination, a large backpack hanging from his shoulders and a duffel bag in his hand.

"Dr. Kim Namjoon is joining Team Delta starting today. He was just discharged from the hospital in great health." Yoongi stated with that executive nonchalance, gesturing towards the man. "Formal introductions with the rest of the group are scheduled for tomorrow, but for now… Please welcome your new colleague."

Taehyung's lips must have slightly parted at some point. He was positively gaping at the two of them, unable to form a single response. Somebody had to take initiative and stir the silence away from the conversation, because Taehyung was incapable of making even the smallest sound.

"Very nice to meet you, Dr. Kim." Namjoon bowed his head, a timid smile shaping his cheeks. "I've read your work on abnormal vocalisations in naturalised emperor penguins. It was very insightful."

Insightful it may have been, but for Taehyung — it was too much to process. Everything inside him was short-circuiting and he had no idea why. He felt a lot dumber than someone who's written tons of scientific papers, defended a dissertation and built a career on a different planet.

"Would you mind showing him the crew quarters?" Yoongi inserted himself, seeing as Taehyung went nonverbal at the worst moment. "I have a meeting in five, it will take a while."

Taehyung would gladly argue that he had work to do himself, but he was already staying overtime. It was close to half past nine at night, the building mostly empty. He had every right to retreat into his room and rest until the morning, unlike Yoongi, who tended to administrative forums no matter the hour. It's not like the days got any darker for them to care about sleeping. They could go about their time however they pleased, given that RV-1231 was as bright as ever. It was all about self-management when it came to white season.

"Yes, um… Sure. " Taehyung finally uttered, blinking his stupor away. Way to make a first impression, he thought.

"Great." Leader Min supplied, then turned to Namjoon. "I'll send you the timetable, passcodes, everything you need to navigate the system. You'll have it by morning. Well— You know what I mean."

Namjoon nodded. His smile was easier this time. Grateful. "Thank you, sir. Take your time."

"That's all we do over here." Yoongi bid him and Taehyung goodbye, turning his heel for the exit.

Before he could leave, and before Taehyung completely lost his sense of everything, apparently —Taehyung called out to Yoongi's retreating back.

"Wait, which door?!"

"102!" Team Leader shouted from a distance, his frame disappearing around the corner. As soon as the words sunk in, Taehyung was hit with another wave of horror.

102 was his door within the crew quarters. Yoongi set him up and left the scene like it wasn't a big deal. Like he had zero understanding of what that meant to him, or worse — knew exactly what the changes implied, enabling them further. Making Taehyung walk into everything unbriefed and unprepared, only to accept the facts as they were. Roll with the punches as they came.

Taehyung sighed a bit too loudly, defeated. Leaned against the desk to shut off his computer and quickly ran his eyes over the remaining people in the room. They gave him a few reluctant, unreadable glances, while the newcomer wasn't looking. Taehyung could only interpret them as somewhat commiserating.

"Follow me."

Taehyung moved out at once, the man catching up to his pace in the lengthy hallways of the Eastern Base. Namjoon was sure for forget his way around the place, seeing how many turns it was before he and Taehyung got into an elevator. It only took them a few floors down before it shifted directions, dragging them forward by a few meters and then left.

They entered the crew zone. It was a set of corridors stretching in opposite directions, with a pathway in the middle leading to shared common rooms and lounge areas. Namjoon saw glimpses of colored lights, the side of a burgundy couch, the corner of a beige table and a giant screen further away from them; before Taehyung turned right, where the glowing Δ sign stood out against dark panels. Then it was nothing but empty walls with built-in screens, displaying a plethora of chionophile illustrations. Namjoon recognised most of them on his way: an Arctic fox, a hooded seal, red phalarope, black guillemot, Alaskan moose, showshoe hare, polar bear, caribou and what looked like a lemming of some sort. They walked too fast for him to tell for sure. It could have been a vole.

At last, they stopped at the end of the passage. Room 102 was at the very right corner. Taehyung placed his palm against the scanner and the door slid open for them in a blink.

Namjoon took in what he could, given the relative darkness. He wouldn't exactly call it spacious per se, but there was enough room for two people to feel more or less comfortable. The entryway served as a gap between two sleeping areas. Each person had their own bed, computer desk, wide window, hidden closets, some shelving and a small en suite.

He took a deep breath, noting the fresh scent of cotton in the room. Taehyung had the right side taken, so Namjoon shuffled to the left. Placed his bags on the empty mattress, looked around for any source of lighting he could activate, then realized what he was missing.

"How do I—"

Despite being seemingly occupied, by folding his fresh pile of clothing into neat stacks, Taehyung picked up on the question before Namjoon could even finish it. Like he was listening closely the entire time — to his thoughts, no less.

"Activate account registry for Control Panel 1." Taehyung talked over him, a bit rigid. His words immediately triggered the system, and Namjoon's side of the room lit up by the monitor of his desk.

Out of the panel emerged a flat sensor; then a pleasant, feminine voice livened the space they were in.

"Account registry available. Scan your palm."

Namjoon did as he was told. Taehyung had his back to him, sorting out clean attire into appropriate shelves and hangers.

The system released a positive beep, meaning the scan was successful.

"Confirm identity."

Namjoon leaned closer. He made sure the information that appeared on screen was correct. "Codename SB94-KNJ. Born September 12th, 2794."

Taehyung held his breath. The image of a suffocating man, hurriedly wheeled out of the shuttle, came back to him in a flash. There were so many health charts he had to go through that day, so many notes to take and submit from that landing operation — Taehyung forgot about the single person who stood out the most. Even the man's ID photo got lost in a heap of documents inside his head.

"Voice recorded. Identity confirmed." The sensor pad hid behind the control panel, the system instantly saving his account for future reference. "Welcome to NSI 0613, Agent Kim."

"Thank you." Namjoon replied. "Uh… End session?"

"Session ended."

The computer went back to black. Silence overtook the bedrooms and Taehyung made sure to look busy, rummaging his closet for who-knows-what.

"Ah, the lights..." Namjoon mumbled, mostly to himself. Taehyung figured he forgot to ask the system to make his part a little brighter.

"Just use the pad above your headrest." Taehyung couldn't help responding. It came out of him before he could stop the urge.

"Oh. Thanks."

Namjoon's side of the room drowned in a warm glow after he fiddled with the pad. A bedside lamp lit up, so did some spotlights by the shelves, and Namjoon finally felt ready to unpack. Make a semblance of a home out of his designated space for the foreseeable future.

At last, Taehyung found what he was looking for. He walked over to Namjoon's side with a sealed set of bed linens, towels and slippers. "These are new. You'll be delivered necessities at some point tomorrow." He handed them over without sparing a single glance, then hurried back like he had more things to take care of.

Namjoon just stared at him, package lightly squeezed in his palms. He couldn't place the feeling that was slowly overtaking him, creeping to the surface from the back of his mind, but Namjoon knew it would linger. It stuck to him the moment he stepped inside the workroom. The moment his new coworker noticed him with a strangely bewildered expression.

"Thank you, Taehyung." He murmured to the sight of Taehyung's back. "Can I call you that? Or do you prefer—"

"That's fine." Taehyung cut him off. He would imagine using titles or honorifics would get tiring sooner than later, especially outside of official settings. It would only emphasise the distance, the awkwardness between them further, and swell it inside the bedrooms until its bright red and irritated.

Taehyung moved to his own desk, grabbing a spray bottle from underneath. Namjoon watched him sprintz his entire control panel and monitors with disinfectant. He almost wondered if his neighbor was a bit of a germaphobe, or if Taehyung was just very particular about cleanliness. Namjoon also wondered if it was ever going to be a point of tension between them, for Namjoon wasn't exactly… Ramarkably neat.

Then again, there were many points of tension already.

"Sorry, am I… Intruding into your space?"

Taehyung's hand faltered, the final spray turning out a little wonky. He lowered the bottle to his hip, everything about him seeming incredibly stiff.

"No… Not at all." He tried to sound normal, and Namjoon was just supposed to take it as it was. With a grain of salt. Or with the idea that Taehyung wasn't acting weird in the slightest.

Namjoon let go of the sealed goods, letting them gently fall onto the naked mattress. "Were you here alone this whole time?"

Namjoon had a deeper, richer quality to his timbre, much like Taehyung — but a lot more human, somehow. Namjoon's curiosity sounded genuine, like he wanted to learn, like he wanted to understand Taehyung despite knowing him for a measely thirty minutes or so. And Taehyung didn't know how to handle that, honestly. Didn't know how to process the amiable headiness that was Namjoon's tone, the one that was supposed to live within the same walls as Taehyung's hollow-cavern-of-a-voice. Or presence, more like.

Taehyung swallowed. "Kind of."

"I see."

They carried on with their routines. While Taehyung jumped into the shower, Namjoon figured out another aspect of the system. Essentially, every command available within the room could be voice-activated at any moment. But if you didn't feel like talking, everything had a semi-manual equivalent: hidden sensors, buttons and switches to use for each purpose. Therefore, instead of doing everything by verbal command, Namjoon tested the bedding options by hand while Taehyung wasn't there to see.

He navigated the side-bar on his headrest and touched it to see what would happen. First, he accidentally lowered the bed too far, then almost brought it too high for comfort. Second, he managed to find the cooling option, which freshened up his mattress until it was a bit too cold. Thankfully, Namjoon could heat it up again just as quickly — avoiding gooseflesh skin. The outside world was freezing enough for him. It was vital to keep himself warm at any given opportunity.

Finally, Namjoon seemed to find the preparation command. He unfolded the bedding atop the surface, then watched the automated frame put everything into place. The flat sheet curled around the edges of the mattress, tight and sleek. The pillow cases were sucked under the bed and emerged again after a second, fitted over compressed pillows, which slowly gained true form on the bed. The same thing happened with the blanket as it crawled back into place, ready to accommodate.

His bed was made. Technology was similar back on Earth, but this was definitely faster than anything Namjoon had ever tried before. It took no more than ten seconds.

Taehyung returned while Namjoon was looking over different sleep mode options on the bar. He could make the bed rock ever so slightly to imitate motion: a ship, a train, a car, even the gentle buzzing of a spacecraft. Namjoon could choose a scent to envelop his pillows: lavender, eucalyptus, mint, fresh laundry, chamomile and so on. Namjoon could also control the levels of support for his back, how soft or shapely he wanted the pillows, how heavy he wanted the blanket.

He adjusted everything to his liking, then glanced at Taehyung. His hair seemed freshly-washed and almost dry. His sleepwear was loose unlike their fitting day-clothes. His image practically blended with the gloom on his side of the room.

"Do you always keep it dark in here?" Namjoon couldn't help himself.

"Do you prefer natural lighting?" Taehyung suggested, as if it wouldn't blind them. The other couldn't tell if Taehyung's tone was sarcastic or just straightforward.

"No, but… I see you have the semi on…" Namjoon referred to the translucid blinds behind the blackout curtains. He noticed they exposed the room to the brightness of outside, but safely enough for them to enjoy — a matte reality their eyes were able to endure.

Taehyung kept silent. His silence spoke volumes, filling the entire room as if it could grow in matter. Namjoon felt the way it expanded against him, as though pushing his body back; signalling immediate retreat.

Namjoon accepted the sign. By doing so, he also accepted unspoken defeat.

"You can put up a wall, if you'd like." Taehyung mumbled. "The blue button on the desk."

Before Namjoon could react, Taehyung demonstrated what he meant by using his own control panel. With the press of a button, a thin partition slid out to separate his side of the room from the narrow entrance space; dividing his and Namjoon's territories further.

He could have closed himself off completely, but Taehyung left just a little gap that revealed a glimpse of his monitors and window frames.

"Now you can part the curtains however you want." He said from inside his enclosure, putting an end to their interactions for the remainder of the night.

Namjoon heard him get under the covers, then succumb to the quietude that overtook the extent of their chamber. Strangely, it pushed Namjoon into a certain state of dejection.

"Great." Was all he could whisper before leaving to wash his face.

Namjoon had trouble waking up the next morning. In fact, most mornings, as Taehyung observed. Although clearly adapting well, some aspects of everyday life on NSI 0613 were, understandably, hard for him. It was still challenging for Namjoon to fully accept the concept of never-ending daylight, or the fact that time, as a whole, was rather blurred. There were no visible lines between yesterday and tomorrow, there were no obvious points of reference to navigate the days, the hours, any fragmets of routine that used to be predictable. The only thing predictable about NSI 0613 was its disorienting lack of context.

"I know I've been preparing for this, but how do you all do it?" Namjoon spoke up at the cafeteria during one of their breakfasts. The table was half-full, a few people from both teams keeping the new guy company as Taehyung sat at the far end, quietly chewing on his fried rice.

"You'll get used to it." Yoongi assured Namjoon, his voice drowning in a cup of coffee.

"Wait until black season is here. You'll be begging for even a minute of sunlight." One of the medical staff gave him a knowing smile.

"Looking forward to that..." Namjoon said, though not with conviction. He poked his salad. "How much till then do we have?"

"About a week."

"Yikes."

"Taehyung will help you out." Yoongi easily stated. "Right, Taehyung?"

The man in question glanced back from his corner of the table. In a sort-of breezy manner, a clear expectation was placed upon Taehyung by Yoongi; one he was meant to confirm in front of everyone. It was only appropriate, of course. Taehyung was the roommate with the experience, and Namjoon was in need of it.

Taehyung hummed with his mouth full. His gaze was perpetually avoiding the rest, always hovering above surfaces or hanging low at his knees. Namjoon couldn't help but wonder, ever since he settled in, whether Taehyung was always like that. Or if his distance was a response to Namjoon's unmistakable presence.

Not that Namjoon thought himself important. But he did think himself somehow at fault, even if there was no way to prove it.

"Have you started medication yet?" Team Leader escorted Namjoon out once they were finished eating. He wanted to give Namjoon a quick tour around the closest facilities. Their first stop was the common inventory room, before Yoongi could dive deep into touring their laboratory spaces.

"Yes, just yesterday." Namjoon widened his stride inside the hallways. Yoongi was quick on his feet.

"How do you feel?"

"Nothing's changed, I don't think. Although I've noticed my vision got a little sharper this morning."

"Good, good." The man nodded. "Make sure to take everything as scheduled and seek help if anything goes wrong. Life on Nunseongi is all about sustainment, both your own and your eventual subjects'."

"I still can't believe that's what it stands for. NSI for Snowflake." Namjoon smiled a little, endearment pushing a gentle dimple into his skin.

"It would make more sense to call it Eoreum, really, but I digress." Min Yoongi turned a corner. A pair of double doors parted sideways to reveal a large room full of shelves and metal boxes. "Here we are."

Namjoon looked around. On one side, stacks of sealed uniform items, from the toughest materials to the thinnest of fabrics, occupied the majority of the space. So did a variety of footwear, accessories and safety gear at the bottom racks. On the other side, he noticed what seemed like an array of bed linens, table cloths, towels, blankets and various rugs. What laid inside the numerous hidden closets and compartments — Namjoon couldn't know, but he imagined it was anything and everything a person could need in their day-to-day.

"If you ever need some additional clothing or necessities, grab whatever you want and write it down so we can keep track." Yoongi loosely waved his hand in the air. "In terms of faulty or new equipment, you need to fill out a form to receive a replacement. You'll find the blank in any computer."

Something grabbed the man's attention. Leader Min took out a few packaged items from different parts of the room, looking them over and checking the sizes on the stickers. "Take these while we're here. You, Taehyung and a few Beta scientists will have some field work before the season ends. Make sure to cover up."

"Thank you." Namjoon took everything from Yoongi's hands. A warm hat, a pair of thick gloves, a head-to-neck mask that covered everything but his eyes and few different sunglasses.

It was all very timely, but Namjoon couldn't shake off the thoughts nagging him on; his mind far from sunny expeditions and freezing cold.

"Can I ask you something?" It was hesitant, but it was needed. He had to come clean.

"Of course."

"Is… Is there a chance I could be transferred to another room?"

Yoongi's eyebrows softly furrowed. "Why?"

"I don't think my colleague wants a roommate." Namjoon admitted, a little sheepish, somewhat disheartened. "And, frankly, I don't blame him."

Leader Min had his hands on his hips. "Did he say that?"

"No, no, he's been… Helpful." Namjoon chewed on his words, his gaze lowered. "I just, I don't know… I'd rather leave him be than add to the tension."

Even if he was an official member of The Mission, Namjoon was still the new guy. It seemed only natural for certain things not going smoothly at the beginning, and he was fine with stepping away where he wasn't welcome. Namjoon didn't want any trouble. Namjoon only wanted to get used to things. To this — his new life, a great distance away from home. Isolated from the world he used to live in, and largely inaccessible for who-knew-how-long.

"Dr. Kim." Yoongi spoke quieter, his feline eyes peering at Namjoon with certain warmth. Maybe sympathy. "You're not a nuisance, if that's what you're implying. Taehyung doesn't think so, either. Believe me."

Namjoon would love to believe — in people, their words or even the mere idea of being able to build a life for himself, surrounded by strangers in a foreign land. But Namjoon didn't seem entirely convinced, not in one thing, not in all of them, and it only made Yoongi sigh. Like there was something hanging at the tip of Yoongi’s tongue, yet too much to simply bring up. Like that something wasn't for him to reveal, or the time wasn’t suitable enough.

"Look. I won't deny that rooming you with Taehyung was kind of strategic on my part, but it's nothing wicked. Taehyung has all the experience you need, he's very meticulous, quiet, organised and he… Could use a little company, I think."

The confusion on Namjoon's face was tender, unassuming, his features gently-pinched.

Yoongi got closer, almost whispering. "I can't say much, but… Taehyung wasn't always alone in 102. He had a roommate. For a while."

Namjoon tipped his head a little lower, listening closely.

"And then… They passed. And Taehyung's been by himself for over a year now."

Namjoon's heart skipped a heavy beat. He leaned away. "Oh."

Yoongi exhaled, his shoulders lightly dropping. "Long story short, I just hope you can find a way to coexist. And if it gets really uncomfortable, we'll… I'll find you a spot somewhere. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Thank you, Dr. Kim."

The two of them left the inventory space in silence. As they took the lenghty passage to the lab facilities, passing staff with friendly nods, Namjoon allowed the remains of his unease slip out of him.

"Sir?"

"Yes?"

"Is there… Any way I can help?" Namjoon murmured just for Leader Min to hear. "With... You know."

The man stopped in his tracks for a moment, a thoughtful and weighty look on his face. He thought it through. "You're already helping. Just give him time."

Namjoon nodded, lips pressed together. A semblance of weight seemed to lift away from him at last. "That's all we have left."

Yoongi gave him a half-smile. "You're learning fast."

The air stood crisp and dry under the sun. Namjoon gazed far and wide at the snowy mountains on the horizon, barely an outline as their whiteness married with the sky. Nunseongi was a shimmering glory at the final breaths of the blazing season. It was as if the entire landscape was covered in tiny diamond specks — a boundless sea of ice and dust displayed before him. Timeless and silent like nothing ever was.

"Reminds me of Svalbard." Namjoon pronounced at some point, having consumed the scenery until his throat tightened with feeling. "How it used to be."

Taehyung heard him, but didn't respond. He was too focused on carefully poking cracks into the ice they stood on, in order to retrieve the frozen bones they've spotted beneath its layers.

Namjoon's been keeping himself busy lately, studying The Mission's impressive assortment of research material and project documentation whenever he had the chance. Amidst their giant list of most engaging work lied an even greater list of failures. One out of many was the case of naturalised animals that simply didn't make it in the wild. And so, it was also their job to find their remains, if deemed possible.

They couldn't afford breaking the ice at the same time for safety reasons, or using laser technology for efficiency, in case of biome damage, so they took turns making small indentations around the perimeter of the carcass underneath. That way, with patience, they could retrieve some of the frozen bones without having to slice up lots of ice and melt the surface.

Taehyung had a lighter hand, Namjoon noticed. The way he gently pushed the thinnest blade deeper into the sheet, using a small hammer, was quite entrancing. The quiet rhythm of his taps was meditative to Namjoon, as he waited for his turn to take over the tedious task.

In that moment, and in that chilling emptiness they breathed in, it felt like he and Taehyung were the only ones present on that endless slab of land. Even if the distant figures of their colleagues were situated kilometers away, doing the exact same thing, their existence was scarcely heard and acknowledged. All Namjoon knew were ghostly mountainsides, frozen depths and Taehyung's diligent gloved hands.

"Allow me." Namjoon softly asked for the tools after a while. Taehyung passed them on without question, straightening up with a crack at his knees.

He stretched his back while Namjoon resumed what he had started. Taehyung observed the man's technique, the mild grip he had around the hammer, completing thin circles around the areas they've marked. A little bit more and they'll be able to lift a few remnants of a skeleton onto the surface. They had a cooler ready to transport the pieces back to the settlement.

"Have you studied Svalbard?" Taehyung murmured all of a sudden. Namjoon almost thought he imagined his voice, for it was quite some time since he said anything about it.

"A while ago, yes." Namjoon replied, just as quiet. "Polar bear breeding grounds in the 21st century, to be precise."

Taehyung wasn't sure why he returned to the topic. His hands were no longer occupied to hush his thoughts, so everything came rushing back once Taehyung faced Namjoon's back; hunched over a thick slate of ice, tapping away.

"You must have monitored them closely in the shuttle, I presume then."

Something inside Namjoon had quivered at the suggestion. Something under his ribcage, small and dull.

"That's right."

A pause took over, almost deafening. Namjoon purposefully avoided talking more than necessary, in case it irked Taehyung somehow. He thought, perhaps, if he kept mostly quiet, Taehyung wouldn't mind him as they went about their days within close proximity. Taehyung might even reply to him sometimes, like he did right there.

Taehyung never found him bothersome, however. If anything, Namjoon's presence only amplified how awkward and withdrawn Taehyung became over the years. It was always rather palpable to him, but even more so now. It was getting harder to ignore, the more routines they danced around in their joint spaces, the more meals they ended up sharing, the more jobs they took on as time went by.

And as their sun was slowly setting on the season, waiting to obscure their day-to-day, Taehyung wondered just how much of his tension would turn visible even in utter darkness. Would the shadows still protect him once their sky turned black? Or would the shadows reveal his true nature despite all the places he could hide in?

"Have you met our polar bears yet?" Taehyung asked. He was thankful Namjoon didn't attempt to look him in the eyes.

The man grew timid. "Not exactly."

Taehyung bit his lower lip, trying to will himself to keep his mouth shut. He didn't have to do this, really. He didn't need to do this at all. There were plenty of others he could ask to assist, and plenty of ways he could remove himself away from Namjoon for as much as possible.

"I'll show you when we get back." Taehyung said instead.

Namjoon's final tap against the blade resulted in a fracture. It connected to the other fissures in the ice and completed the larger circle they were aiming for that entire time.

The two of them just stared at it for a good moment, seeing as their work was halfway done.

"Okay." Namjoon said, sharing a brief yet peaceful glance with Taehyung. "I'd love to meet them."

If there's one thing Namjoon appreciated about NSI 0613 — it was its ability to humble and emphasize what has been taken for granted too many times in his life. Like sunsets and sunrises, for example. Namjoon has seen countless of those on Earth, gorgeous to a fault, but so mundane that they went largely unnoticed. Especially when he had little time to truly take them in, always nose-deep in research, illuminated by screens.

But Nunseongi was different. As white season transitioned into black, all the inhabitants could see was a single sunset — a final eclipse that could last for months on end. A grand climax to the light of day, with no real promises of a brighter tomorrow and no guarantees of a calculated dawning. Nothing was ever perfectly-timed or predictable over here, and Namjoon both respected and dreaded the land for it.

After bringing back a few field remains into the labs, Namjoon and Taehyung spent the rest of their day in the animal facilities. While the newest arrivals still had a long way ahead of them before they could be released from their cooler pods, or contacted by outsiders, the in-house species were able to live within the base with ease; inside their custom enclosures, slowly but surely adapting to the turbulent life on Snowflake.

Namjoon took a liking to all of the mammals. He was amazed to see a pair of young snow leopards before him, in the flesh, peacefully sleeping along a wall of rocks. His eyes were glassy, wide, watching those beauteous creatures exhale their deepest dreams into the night; tails curled around themselves, noses hidden in the fur.

"I can't believe it." Namjoon whispered, even though he could believe. He read the The Mission's reports over the years. He knew what kind of work they've been doing, but it still felt surreal. "Are you sure it's not a hologram?"

Namjoon tried to squeeze a chuckle out of him, but only ended up a bit choked up. Taehyung couldn't stop staring at his profile, hoping to read every bit of feeling in the corners of his eyes, the tension in his chin, the press of his full lips. Namjoon seemed so alive to him, once again. No less than the beings they held under their wings.

"We've lost a lot." Taehyung sounded bleak. "Every victory seems small now, when all the hurdles are so big."

"But it's working." Namjoon looked back at him, convinced. "What you're doing is helping everyone."

Taehyung wasn't sure how to receive Namjoon's sincerity. "We're speeding evolution, Dr. Kim. That's all there is to it."

Morality and science were slippery slopes. Two parallel lines, leaping towards a grand idea. Dancing, intertwining, almost forming a knot, before separating to opposite sides and avoiding all contact for miles. Taehyung knew that they were all just trying their best: every expert, every worker, every higher-up. There wasn't enough room for greed and lawless conduct when entire genuses were on the brink of extinction. There was only place for choosing lesser evils and moving past the errors.

A lasting and healthy existence on NSI 0613 was deemed impossible without some major modifications. Just as the humans had to take their time, getting used to the environment, consuming loads of supplements and getting vital shots every few weeks just to feel stable, so were the wild subjects made to adjust to the conditions they were put in. Meaning, slow and tiny changes to their DNA had to be implemented if they were to survive in this world at all.

If Earth was no longer a home to a large sum of species, then it was their responsibility to help them begin anew somewhere else. Nunseongi was the better option, but also the toughest to accept.

"You can call me Namjoon." He murmured, watching one of the overseeing vets walk past the enclosure. "I'm not exactly… I need to earn my place a bit, you know."

Taehyung's eyebrows grew tense. "You already have a place. Right next to me."

Namjoon gawped, his jaw going a little slack. Taehyung realised too late just how it must have come across.

"I-I mean— Our room— And—"

Heat traveled to Taehyung's cheeks at worrying speed, blooming rouge when Namjoon's lips lifted into a timid curve before him. He had no clue of what to do with himself. The man was smiling shyly and Taehyung's heart rate was increasing by the minute.

"I understand." Namjoon softly assured.

"Let's, um— Let's move on to the polar bear grounds." Taehyung tried to steer them away from the moment, his legs already moving towards the exit. "We need to get back to the quarters before sundown."

"Why?" Namjoon followed.

"So you can see it. For the last time."

The fact that Taehyung even cared about such things— cared about Namjoon's experience— was good enough for him. Almost two hundred days of darkness ahead felt daunting, but if Taehyung could tolerate it together with him, then perhaps it wouldn't be so bad.

Taehyung showed him the spacious bear enclosures on another side of the building. He introduced every animal to Namjoon as if they were people — by name, by age, how long they've lived at the base. Namjoon was surprised how many of them survived for so long, and managed carrying some healthy off-springs at that. He couldn't help but smile at the two cubs tackling each other in the corner of their den, the adults idly watching them from the side. They seemed well-fed and very much at peace.

"If there's one good thing about black season, it's that they'll get to go out more often. The cubs won't form UV radiation resistance until adolescence, given the current medicine in our arsenal, but we're working on it." Taehyung explained, watching the ruffled cubs through the glass screen. "In the meantime, the night will give them a chance to interact with the landscape. And we don't have to worry about their eyesight."

"How are they with the cold?"

"It goes down past -60 more often than not, but they seem to be taking it well. Of course, we only release them for a few hours at a time, but…"

Namjoon kept looking at the bears. "It's better than nothing."

"Hopefully."

The quietude that wrapped around them both was nice, for once, the distant sound of machinery leaving traces of life in the hall. An entire wall full of monitors stretched far behind them, maintaining everything from oxygen levels to low temperatures for the subjects to feel comfortable in.

They watched as the polar bear cubs wobbled towards their mother for some nursing, climbing onto her so-called lap. Namjoon almost forgot he wasn't alone, given how long they went without speaking.

"Do we have time for the penguins?"

Taehyung couldn't stop himself, a wonky smile spreading sheepishly onto his face at the question. Namjoon kept taking him off-guard in the simplest of ways, and there was only so much he could do to protect himself.

"Sure, but let's make it quick." He eased his smile into a standstill.

And quick they were. The two of them came home just when the sky was halfway in cerulean flames, a beam of rose-white swallowing the final remnants of light as gloom seeped into the world like ink. Watered down and hesitant at first, but then — quickly gaining saturation, a sweep of onyx and indigo above their heads, trying to cement itself for months to come.

Taehyung and Namjoon watched the planet draw its curtains shut through the windows of 102.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖⋆ ˚❆

The first three months of total darkness were brutal. Namjoon anticipated some levels of struggle at the beginning stages, sure, but reality hit him harder than any white-season day ever could. No amounts of caffeine or sleep were able to restore his previous vitality, leaving him no choice but to visit the hospital several times a week; hooked to IV drips and injected with B vitamins until his body began to slowly accept the unfortunate circumstances.

Taehyung couldn't do much but observe. Sometimes Namjoon spent the nights in regenerative hospital pods, sometimes he returned to his bed in the dead of night. And even though he never asked, Taehyung made sure to keep Namjoon's side of the room clean and fresh in his absence. He noticed what type of smells the man enjoyed and which ones he didn't, how warm and how cold he liked his sheets to be before sleep, how bright he liked the lights to be along the wall. Taehyung wouldn't be able to explain just why he bothered, why he cared, but he kept tidy in his own space on a regular. Might as well ask the system to suck in all the dust and sweep the entire floor while he's at it.

His silent gestures never went unnoticed. Every time Namjoon returned to 102, he thanked Taehyung for doing things for him. Unless Taehyung was fast asleep, leaving Namjoon to break into a smile in the dark and place a sweet from the cafeteria on Taehyung's desk. He liked the rice cakes they made. Namjoon always asked the staff to pack him some if there were any left.

Once Namjoon felt stable enough, newly-adjusted, he came back to work in full capacity; which meant long hours indoors and very little field work. NSI 0613 was generous like that, dragging rough blizzards across an expanse of days. The large windows of the workrooms laid out a view into obscurity, the white horizon vanishing in the murky fog. The ice storm twirled and slammed against the glass, pulsating like hollow thumps. The radio mumbled away with requests and conversation between regional towers, swallowing the quiet keyboard taps inside the room.

Taehyung and Namjoon were looking through the newest data submissions from the Delta-Beta veterinary units. They had to look through the health charts of every NIX 73 arrival, the ones that flew in alongside Namjoon just last season, and evaluate their levels of progression or decline.

Namjoon was in charge of his first big analysis. He was tasked by Leader Min to compare the animals' conditions: the last three months on the shuttle versus the last three months on land. What changed, what didn't, how and under what circumstances.

Taehyung showed him his own examples, just to familiarise Namjoon with the document layout and statistical requirements. Namjoon was actively listening to his comments, but at some point, gradually began to space out.

Since the day they've met, it was the first time Namjoon saw Taehyung in glasses. Thick-rimmed and black, practically ancient-looking. Not many people used them anymore, opting to fix their eyesight via surgery or permanent contacts. There's been plenty of innovation in the field of ophthalmology over the past hundred years, but that was the case on Earth. On Nunseongi, the human eyes were under so much strain, be it in light or in darkness, that some issues could reappear despite previously successful treatments. And if there were no problems before, gaining new ones has never been easier for workers of The Mission.

Taehyung's eyes must have been so tired that he opted for the oldest method. Letting himself rest. No supplements, no eye drops, just lenses.

"Is that part clear?"

He blinked, a sharper Taehyung sitting beside him, finger circling a file section on the screen.

Namjoon inhaled, then nodded. "Mhm."

"Any questions for me?" Taehyung asked, a few strands of his hair touching his glasses. He looked particularly blank in them, or rigid, and yet — Namjoon found it exceedingly hard not to stare. At the shape of his face, the lines of his nose, the angle of his jaw, the form of his lips. In a strange way, Namjoon thought, Taehyung was perfectly calculated. Perfectly created. And if he were a subject under Namjoon's supervision, Taehyung would be terribly difficult to analyse. Behavior-wise, potential-wise and… Appearance…

"Namjoon?"

He nearly shuddered. No, actually, he did, but played it off as if the room was chilly. Namjoon severely underestimated the power of first name usages upon suggesting, especially with the tone that Taehyung possessed.

Namjoon gulped. "No, not at all. Sorry."

They kept on working. Namjoon managed to compile a decent amount for his report that day, even though Taehyung was in rather close proximity — readily available in case Namjoon needed his help.

It was a good thing, of course, that Taehyung felt much more comfortable around him. That's what Namjoon wanted from the start. But it might have backfired in ways Namjoon wasn't able to predict.

When the snowstorms finally subsided, around two weeks later, Namjoon rushed out of the settlement in a tizzy. Taehyung didn't pay it any mind, and wasn't planning to, really, until he noticed Namjoon's coat was gone from their entryway. That's where Namjoon usually left it hanging, his boots half-standing by the rug where he would shake them off in a hurry at the end of the day. But none of it was there when Taehyung returned from the lab. The only thing Namjoon left behind was a recording, played for Taehyung as soon as he crossed the threshold.

"Voice message from agent Kim Namjoon." Said the system, playing the recorded audio with Namjoon's voice. "Went to the sea, took a snowmobile. Be back in an hour or two."

Taehyung was stumped when he heard it, as though someone pushed a rock off the cliff that made up his heart. A sense of unease creeped down his body like a colony of ants, spreading it across his limbs, his bones, his flesh. What sounded like a simple note, a heads-up for a roommate, made Taehyung incredibly anxious in a matter of seconds. Made his knees feel slightly weak while he debated what to do in that situation.

The sky was quiet through the window, a sleepy shadow hovering above the world. Namjoon should be fine out there alone. Namjoon was smart enough to know the dangers of going out without an escort, he passed all his safety training as soon as his first adjustment period came to an end. Namjoon was smart enough to recognise that things could go wrong in a blink of an eye on a planet such as this. Namjoon was smart enough for sure, and yet… Taehyung couldn't understand his reasoning, no matter how long he thought about it.

Because he didn't have to think. There was nothing to think about when everything inside Taehyung was screaming for him to act at once.

He bolted out of 102, running as fast as he could towards the elevator. Past quarters, past doors, past people and into the ground floor of the Eastern Base. The security cameras caught his hasty escape and before he knew it — his high boots were already threading thick snow.

He reached the motor station by the outer wall and quickly scanned his palm. The gesture gave him permission to access the available vehicles, and Taehyung hopped onto another snowmobile, swiftly igniting. With a hood fastened around his head and his rapid breath painting the air white, Taehyung promptly drove out of the settlement area.

Midnight was approaching, eerily serene. Taehyung would much prefer hearing an orchestra of life forms somewhere in the deep, threatening him and his human machine as they drove through their territories. But NSI 0613 was absent of such things. There was nothing to observe, nothing to hear, nothing to feel aside from blood-chilling cold. Taehyung kept accelerating into a black abyss, void of life and void of death, where all his headlights could show him were endless roads of snowy, icy bliss.

It was a ghostly world where winter ruled over everything, everyone. Taehyung knew that far too well. It chained him to the seat— hands squeezing the handlebars— just thinking of all the things that could happen in a place like this. To people like him. To people he knew. To Kim Namjoon.

The navigation system of the vehicle saved him precious time. Taehyung got a signal from the same model further north, revealing its location on the coast. It took him a little over twenty minutes to finally spot the blue snowmobile on the horizon, disturbing the snow in his way as he sped up to the edge of the region.

Namjoon was gazing upon the trembling sea when the echoing whir of an engine pulled him out of his thoughts; beams of light penetrating his middle of nowhere. Taehyung appeared like a phantom from the depths of gloom, wearing a strange expression when he jumped from the snowmobile — one that Namjoon wasn't sure how to read.

"Namjoon?" Taehyung carefully approached him, yet with a sense of needed distance, as though his roommate was but a beast. Able to pounce at a moment's notice. "What are you doing?"

Namjoon glanced back at the gentle waves, watching the way they licked the ice beneath his feet. A part of him was surprised to see Taehyung, of course, but a bigger part had a feeling he'd come. He just wished he knew what to think of it. Namjoon wished there was a manual for these things, just as much as there were for technicalities.

"Getting some air before bed." He said.

The air was fresh, no doubt, but rather thin. There was much more oxygen filtered for consumption at the base. Frankly, it was safer to stay put than risk getting lightheaded at the most unsuitable moment. Especially when there was no one around to help in case of anything.

Taehyung stared at him, so still and calm in front of open water. Like there was nothing to worry about in the slightest. Like everything was under control. Like Taehyung was the only one with the wrong idea.

"Here?" Taehyung felt stupid for double-checking.

"I wanted to see it with my own eyes." Namjoon was slow to reply. "I know the surface melts here on the coldest nights, and no one knows why."

NSI 0613 was full of mysteries, despite its barren exterior. There were plenty of things that scientists have yet to discover and yet to explain. Like the Northern Sea, whose icy sheet stays put throughout the entire year, except for a few nights during black season. Suddenly alive, the water swallows down the frost and breathes for the first time in a while, crashing against the coast.

It was hard to think of a response. Taehyung was sort of appalled, but too hollow from inside to truly let it show. There was no substance for him to feed on. There was nothing for him to grasp and spew out into the open.

"We're working on it." Was all he could manage, as bland as could be. Like Taehyung's merely talking to a corporate fellow, and not a person he is stranded in space with for the foreseeable future.

"I'm not accusing." Namjoon shrugged, sincere, like it was no big deal whatsoever. He kept watching the water move about in patterns, gleaming under the muted headlights of their vehicles. "Honestly, as much as I'd love to know how it melts and why, I don't mind being clueless, for once. I don't think we deserve to know it all."

A weight began to form in Taehyung's chest, pushing down against his lungs until it got harder to breathe.

"I mean, what are we really trying to do here? Move humanity to Nunseongi? Keep it as our cosmic wildlife reserve?" Namjoon continued, mostly to himself. He didn't sound convinced in his own words, and the accumulated questions only made him chuckle — a brief and empty huff. "I'm sure you've thought about this a billion times. I guess it's my turn now."

Taehyung sunk with his knees to the snow, urging Namjoon to finally notice. Taehyung kept breathing deeply, unnaturally, holding onto his head; as though trying to prevent an episode of hyperventilation from flowing out of its course.

Namjoon was in front of him in no time, concerned, kneeling to take in his face. He tried calling out to him, saying his name, but Taehyung's eyes were wide and unseeing; too deep in his mind while his chest rose and fell on repeat.

"Taehyung." Namjoon's features grew tense and alert at the battle Taehyung kept fighting in front of him. He gently took hold of Taehyung's shoulders, hoping to ground him somehow, to keep him still. "Taehyung, are you okay? Should I call for help?"

It was an alarming sight to behold. Namjoon had nothing on him that could possibly ease Taehyung's breathing: not an inhaler, not an oxygen mask. If Taehyung's symptoms progressed, Namjoon's only chance would be calling the first responders or speeding across the snowy field himself, the man glued to his back. He could only hope he'd be able to bring him back in time.

Taehyung shut his eyes for a good moment, as though gaining some semblance of control over himself. His inhales got even deeper, almost painfully so, fingers clutching his hair under the hood. He tried to focus on the crashing of the waves, the crisp air, the heat of Namjoon's palms on him. He tried to mind everything just to come back to his senses.

Perhaps there was only one way to do it well.

"No… I'm not okay." He whispered.

That's when Namjoon could finally see it. How damp Taehyung's eyelids were, how glassy his eyes had become, how rosy and tender his cheeks had turned in the ruthless cold. Taehyung looked up at the darkness above like he was trying not to cry, and Namjoon felt something clutch his chest like a callous fist.

Worry bled all over him, burning Namjoon slowly, fettering his bones. He felt unguarded in front of an earnest, softened Taehyung, whose candor overpowered his composure without an ounce of warning. Before Namjoon could assist him to his feet, Taehyung did it himself — putting distance between them as he fought the emotions on his face.

"Don't ever do that again."

"What?" Namjoon was puzzled, fearing he did something awfully wrong.

"If you leave the base, I have to go with you. You know the rules. At least for now that's how it is, Namjoon." Taehyung was barely holding on as he emphasised the words with his hand, jawline tense, chin trembling. All of his features were trying not to scrunch in pain. "You leave the base — you take me with you, whether I like it or not. Even if I'm busy, even I'm sleeping, even if—"

"Taehyung—"

"I have to be here to keep you safe." His voice betrayed him, cracking like a little twig. "Is that so hard to understand?"

In the overwhelming gloom, Namjoon saw Taehyung's cheeks glisten, as if his tears were made of ice. Taehyung's sniffles and exhales danced like smoke in front of him— gentle clouds of frost— and like the waves that quaked beside them, so did Taehyung's agitated chest. Up and down, up and down it went.

Namjoon would have stopped himself, but this was beyond him. His legs dragged him towards Taehyung without a single thought, his arms wrapping around the man as softly as possible, holding him close. His touch released the final grasp Taehyung had over himself, letting it all go into the crook of Namjoon's neck. Salty, wet and so desperately sincere.

"I'm sorry." Namjoon murmured, rueful, rubbing his back. "I'm sorry, Taehyung."

Taehyung tried to tell him something, but everything stumbled from his tongue in hiccups. Namjoon only held him tighter for it, hoping that he could keep at least some of Taehyung's heart intact; before it jumped out with the force of his whimpers, getting lost at sea.

"I won't do that again, I promise." Namjoon said right by his temple, lips nearly grazing Taehyung's skin. "I just…"

He struggled to finish the one thing that mattered, perhaps, but Taehyung seemed to have settled by then. His shoulders were no longer tense, his sobbing subsided, and his breaths were no longer abrupt and incessant. He kept his face in Namjoon's neck for another good moment, as if afraid to show himself, afraid that everything would repeat once he detached from Namjoon in the slightest. But Namjoon helped. He slowly pulled back, just a little, wanting to see what's written on Taehyung's face after the storm.

It was something timid, sorrowful, yet beautiful all the same. As if, in the quiet aftermath, the tempest was trying to apologise for everything it did and everything it said.

Namjoon couldn't help but smile, just a bit. He had plenty of fondness for the subjects he studied, but as for human beings… This was a first. Possibly even a last.

"I'm sorry, I…" Taehyung couldn't look him in the eyes, his voice slightly coarse. Namjoon eased his hold on him, hands lingering around the elbows. "I don't have good memories of this place. I couldn't sit back and wait while you were here by yourself."

"I understand." Namjoon said, once again, because he did. The more this limbo-like season spread itself, far and wide, uncovering the darkest things as light — the more Namjoon felt like he understood Taehyung. The more he began to like him.

"It's just… My roommate…"

"You don't have to say it." Namjoon lightly squeezed him by the arms. He felt like he already knew it all. "I'm sorry for running away. I didn't mean to scare you."

Taehyung gathered his courage to look up, searching Namjoon's eyes in the night. There was something almost ethereal about him, so calm inside the void of the outdoors. It was like the planet finally accepted him as its own, or Namjoon accepted it. Like he came into terms with how things were, to an extent, lulled into comfort by the whispering sea.

"I just… Wanted to step away from you for a little. Clear my head." Namjoon admitted, a hesitant curve on his lips.

Taehyung held his breath, bracing for something worse than the fear of Namjoon throwing himself into the dark waves of the Northern Sea.

"I think I like you too much, Taehyung. I'm sorry for that, as well."

The look in Taehyung's eyes resembled that of a bear cub, surprised by another bear in its vicinity. Namjoon would have melted in a smile, if his heart wasn't trying to escape his chest.

"U-um, I'll move rooms, if you want." Namjoon tried to act natural, rubbing his crimson nose. "Yoongi won't mind—"

"I'll mind." Taehyung pronounced so quietly, Namjoon almost missed it. "I'll mind it very much."

It came out a little silly. Namjoon bit on his lip to avoid grinning.

"You're still on your trial period."

"I am?" It took Namjoon off-guard.

Taehyung nodded, convinced. "I don't trust anyone else to teach you everything you need to know."

That was enough to disarm Namjoon completely. His cheeks traitorously explosed a pair of dimples, giving into a near-aching smile.

"Besides… You keep showing off your back to me after every shower." Taehyung mumbled, a strange mixture of factual yet shy. "And staring at me in the workrooms, and watching my hands in the lab, and bringing me sweets from the cafeteria, and wondering how I slept, and taking on my tasks, and don't get me started on how slowly you keep writing reports beside me when I know you're a very fast typer—"

"Two questions." Namjoon interrupted, heart leaping like a caribou over an icy crevasse. "May I?"

Taehyung gulped. "Go on."

"Number one." Taehyung couldn't read the look on Namjoon's face, but it was brighter than the clearest of white season skies. "What color are the waves, Taehyung?"

Taehyung glanced to the side, confused. The water softly splashed against the slab of land, obscure, swaying in outlines and brushstrokes like the dimmest painting.

"I'm not sure." Taehyung replied, searching for answers in Namjoon's tender eyes.

"Okay. Number two, then." He smiled, heady like spirits downed inside a rocking boat. "Can I kiss you?"

Taehyung lit up like a flame, face heated, trying his best not to grin like an idiot. It was the least bit convincing.

A single nod was all it took. Namjoon's soft touch atop his lips had a ripple effect, sending goosebumps all across Taehyung. Like he was cold under layers of thermal wear, but hot to a fault. Like he fell into a snowdrift, face burning, skin tingling, everything covered in needles as Namjoon's lips pressed into his.

If this was how their daunting future looked like, felt like, well — Taehyung could bear it. In darkness, in sunlight, in tedious routine. Taehyung could bear another five years in the cold, as long as Namjoon could share his warmth with him.

What color are waves?

White as snow when they break.

Did you survive the drift okay?

Still as a pebble, could you stay?