Chapter Text
The glass-fronted building on the banks of the Han River was no ordinary headquarters tonight.
At this event, attended by Seoul’s largest entertainment companies, security was at its highest level. The red carpet stretched from the steps into the building, and camera flashes turned night into day. Fans from all over the world shouted for their idols from behind barriers, while social media live streams received thousands of comments and likes every second.
This was the biggest music night of the year.
Inside, the air smelled of perfume and expensive fabrics. The dresses on the female idols had just arrived from fashion week runways. Male artists, in perfectly tailored bespoke tuxedos, struck flawless poses in front of the cameras. Producers whispered with global investors, while giant screens played promo videos of the artists’ upcoming world tours.
Here, success was not measured by applause. It was measured in numbers, in streaming counts, and in stock values.
"Jimin-ah!"
He turned to see his bandmates weaving through the crowd, their laughter and teasing voices cutting through the din of cameras and cheering fans.
"You’re late again," Taehyung called, a grin tugging at his lips. "Do you even know what time it is?"
Jimin smirked, adjusting the cuff of his tuxedo. "I know exactly what time it is. Fashionably late."
Jin shook his head, pretending exasperation. "Fashionably late? You mean late by twenty minutes. And don’t think Army's won’t notice."
They threaded through the sea of flashes and glittering gowns, joking and nudging each other. Jimin let himself relax slightly, this was a world he knew well, but even here, surrounded by his bandmates, the chaos felt manageable.
After a lot of bickering and teasing, the event finally began. The emcee stepped onto the stage, microphone in hand, and the crowd’s chatter softened into an expectant hush.
"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Seoul’s biggest night in music!" the emcee’s voice rang out, polished and confident. "Tonight, we celebrate talent, dedication, and the artists who move our hearts across the globe."
The maknaes leaned in close, whispering jokes under their breaths, trying to mask their nerves behind laughter. He let them chatter, his eyes scanning the glittering crowd, cameras, and stage setup, until the spotlight landed on the small piano stage.
The hall went silent. A single figure, perfectly composed, approached the piano. Lee Yuna.
As she sat and poised her fingers above the keys, Jimin felt a strange tingling shot through the ring finger of his left hand. He looked down, and froze.
A thin, glowing red string wrapped itself around his finger. His chest tightened, and for a moment, he felt as if the air had been knocked out of him. But what truly sent his heart racing was the other end. It floated midair, going nowhere, unconnected, untethered, as if searching.
He nearly dropped his phone. "What…?" His mind refused to make sense of it. There was no one in sight; the gala was crowded, but no one near enough to explain this impossible phenomenon.
He remembered vague whispers about such things, soulmate bonds that sometimes triggered randomly, especially when the other half of the pair was not far away. And now his bond had triggered, completely unbidden. That could only mean one thing: she was near him. But then… where was she? Would he be able to find her before it was too late?
He pressed his palms against his face, trying to steady himself without letting it seen by others. Usually fearless, Jimin felt his heart pounding like a drum, heavy with dread. He had only just begun to feel a sense of calm in his life, to enjoy the rare moments of peace amidst the chaos of being an idol. Six years of relentless work, practice, tours, sleepless nights, and sacrifices, had finally started to pay off. And now… this.
His thoughts flickered to his bandmates, his brothers, his constant support. Endless hours of dancing, training, laughing, crying together… could all of it be threatened by this mysterious, unseen string?
Jimin sank into his seat, letting the red string shimmer faintly in the air beside him, and took several deep breaths to regain composure.
Taehyung, sitting beside him, frowned. "Jimin-ah? You okay? You’re pale," he said, nudging Jimin gently. "Did you just see a ghost or something?"
Jimin forced a laugh, though it came out strained. "No… I’m fine. Just tired, that’s all."
"Mmhm," Taehyung muttered, unconvinced, his eyes sharp. "You’re sweating, and you keep staring at that corner. What’s going on?"
Jimin’s mind raced. Could he tell Taehyung what he was seeing? That a glowing red string had wrapped around his finger, the other end floating in the air with no one to connect to? That the universe, or whatever inexplicable force governed this, was suddenly insisting he notice someone far away?
"No, really," Jimin said, keeping his voice calm. "Just thinking about the performance."
Taehyung narrowed his eyes, studying him carefully. "Hmm. You’re lying," he said with a teasing grin, but there was concern underneath. "Jimin-ah you know you can tell me anything, right?"
Jimin gave a small, tight-lipped smile. "Thanks, Tae. I appreciate it." His gaze drifted back to the stage, where Yuna’s fingers were dancing over the piano keys, precise and controlled. The string pulsed faintly, as if reminding him that the connection was real, and urgent.
Taehyung elbowed him lightly. "You’re weird today, seriously. Don’t zone out too much or Jin hyung will come over and start lecturing."
Jimin let himself chuckle quietly, though his mind was elsewhere. He was aware of everyone else's presence, grounding him in the familiar chaos of the gala, but the strange, impossible thread on his finger refused to be ignored.
Every note Yuna played seemed to tug at the string, teasing him, calling to him, and Jimin knew, even if he didn’t yet understand why, that this was only the beginning.
The final note hung in the air, resonating through the hall, and the audience erupted in applause. Jimin remained seated a moment longer, letting the music, and the impossible thread on his finger, settle in his mind. He felt the pull stronger now, insistent, urgent, and it was almost unbearable.
"I need air," he muttered under his breath, rising from his seat.
Taehyung immediately flanked him. "Jimin-ah, wait. Are you serious? You’re not just-"
"I need to clear my head," Jimin interrupted, his voice tight but calm. He didn’t want to explain, not yet. Not while the string shimmered faintly, tugging at him in ways he didn’t fully understand.
They slipped through the glittering crowd, without getting seen by the other members, and headed backstage. The lights dimmed here, the air cooler, the chaos of the gala fading into a strange, quiet hum.
Jimin leaned against a wall for a moment, catching his breath. The tingling on his finger was stronger now, and the glowing thread had intensified, pulsing softly like a heartbeat. He swallowed, trying to steady himself.
Taehyung, ever perceptive, studied him with concern. "You’re really acting weird. If something’s wrong, tell me. Please."
"I don’t know how to explain it," Jimin admitted quietly. His eyes, however, were drawn toward a door leading to a narrower corridor. A faint sense of presence pulled at him, something familiar yet entirely unknown.
He took a step forward. Then another.
Before he could process it, he rounded the corner, and collided with someone.
"Oh! Sorry!" he exclaimed, catching himself, only to freeze.
Lee Yuna looked up, equally startled. Their eyes met, and in that instant, the impossible happened.
The glowing red string coiled around Jimin’s finger shot forward, almost as if it recognized its other half. At the same moment, a faint, matching thread appeared from Yuna’s ring finger, shimmering in perfect alignment. The two strings drew toward each other with a pull neither could resist, intertwining midair with a soft, radiant hum.
Jimin stumbled back, blinking in disbelief. "This… this is impossible," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.
Yuna’s eyes widened as she stared at the glowing threads. "What… what is this?" she asked, her voice trembling with awe and a hint of fear.
Neither moved. Time seemed to stretch, the backstage lights dimming around them as the threads pulsed and connected, sealing the bond that had been waiting for this exact moment.
Taehyung, peeking from slightly behind Jimin, froze too, mouth slightly open. "Is that…?"
Jimin didn’t answer. He only stared at Yuna, the world narrowing to the threads of fate now firmly binding them together. Everything else, the gala, the cameras, the applause, had ceased to exist.
For the first time, Jimin understood the meaning of the bond. And it terrified him.