Chapter Text
Jungkook stood in front of Unit 12, balancing two heavy boxes in his arms with the unit’s keys precariously sitting on top. Behind him on the hallway floor were three more massive boxes. Ramdam na ramdam na niya ang pagod. Kung bakit naman kasi service elevator lang ang pwedeng gamitin tuwing move-in, 'yun ang hindi niya alam. Tatlong beses na siyang umakyat-baba para makuha ang lahat ng gamit niya, at heto siya ngayon—tagaktak ang pawis dahil sa init at halos ayaw na niyang ituwid ang masakit niyang likod. Ang tanging maririnig lang sa buong hallway ay ang sarili niyang mabigat na paghinga. Sobrang tahimik ng paligid; it was freaking deafening.
He hated moving.
Pagkapasok niya, ibinaba niya ang mga dalang karton nang walang ka-effort-effort, letting them hit the bare floor with a dull thud. Hindi niya alam kung saan magsisimula, o kung gusto niya ba talagang magsimula. The first box Jungkook opened was labeled 'kitchen'. He slit the tape open, pero walang kahit anong sigla sa mga galaw niya. Literal na essentials lang ang laman—isang kawali, dalawang ordinaryong plato, at iilang kubyertos. Walang aesthetic decorations, walang makukulay na mug.
The next box he opened was labeled 'bedroom'. It held the exact same dull energy. Isang plain na kumot, dalawang unan, at puro monochrome na damit lang ang laman ng karton. He didn't even bring a single family picture.
Pati ang isang maliit na box, na kadalasang pinaglalagyan ng mga display o abubot sa bahay, held nothing but cables, a router, and a single, unbranded alarm clock.
Pero sa pinakailalim ng tambak, may isang maliit na kahon na huling-huli niyang nakita. Mas luma ang karton nito kumpara sa iba, at sa ibabaw, may nakasulat gamit ang pulang permanent marker: DO NOT OPEN.
Jungkook stopped in his tracks and stared at it for a while. The energy in the room suddenly felt heavy. Hindi niya rin naman balak galawin ang box na ito—hindi ngayon, baka hindi kahit kailan. Slowly, he moved and placed the box at the very back of his closet, pushing it into the shadows where he wouldn't see it immediately, before shutting the door.
It almost looked like he was only setting up a temporary shelter—a sterile place where he could sleep, instead of an actual home. The space was completely soulless. No personality, no enthusiasm, as if he was just existing to get through the day—leaving anyone who saw the space wondering kung ano ba ang malalim na nangyari sa kanya bago siya napadpad dito.
After a few hours of feeling like the unpacking would never end, a faint knock suddenly broke the silence of the night.
Knock. Knock.
Jungkook thought it might be the maintenance guy or the landlord, baka dahil sa huling pirmahan ng kontrata. He let out a tired sigh, wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans, at binuksan ang pinto nang walang ka-ener-enerhiya.
Pagkabukas niya, hindi maintenance ang nandoon, at hindi rin ang landlord.
It was a guy. He was standing there with a warm, easy smile that wasn't too forced or over-the-top. Hindi siya mukhang manic pixie dream boy na pilit nagpapasaya; he just naturally radiated warmth, wearing an oversized sweater and holding a container of home-cooked, warm food.
"Hi! Ikaw 'yung bagong lipat?" Jimin asked, leaning slightly forward.
"...Yeah," maikling sagot ni Jungkook, blinking blankly at him.
"I'm Jimin."
Si Jungkook, nakatitig lang.
"..."
"..."
"..."
Jimin let out a soft huff, a wry smile forming on his lips. "You're not very talkative, huh?"
Napa-kurap si Jungkook, medyo nahiya sa kawalan niya ng modo pero tamad pa ring magsalita. "Ah. Sorry."
"It's fine," Jimin chuckled, raising the container. "I made too much food. Just thought na baka hindi ka pa kumakain dahil busy ka mag-unpack."
Halatang-halata naman na sinadya niyang magluto para sa bago niyang kapitbahay dahil umuusok pa ang ulam at sakto ang portion para sa dalawang tao, but both of them just pretended that everything was completely a coincidence.
Habang nag-uusap sila sa may doorway, hindi napigilan ng mga mata ni Jimin na gumala sa loob ng unit. He did a quick apartment tour just by scanning through the place. He noticed that there was no couch, no television, no decorations on the wall—there was just a lone mattress on the floor surrounded by gaping, empty boxes. The place looked totally abandoned.
Pero hindi nagtanong si Jimin. Instead of prying, he just gestured inside. "Need help assembling furniture?"
"I'm okay," Jungkook declined immediately.
"Okay," Jimin said smoothly, stepping inside anyway at ibinaba ang pagkain sa sahig. He shot a quick look at the empty floor before looking back at Jungkook. "...You're definitely not okay."
Bago pa makapagreklamo si Jungkook, Jimin was already kneeling on the floor, readying the pieces of a small wooden coffee table na kalahati pa lang ang pagkaka-assemble.
This was definitely the most awkward situation that Jungkook had ever been in. Habang inaayos nila ang lamesa, there was a thick, awkward silence between the two of them, pero sinalo iyon lahat ni Jimin. He was nonstop talking—bida ang neighborhood, kung saan ang pinakamalapit na 24/7 convenience store, ang schedule ng laundry room sa basement, at ang elevator ng building na laging sira tuwing weekend. Jimin even mentioned that he'd introduce his friends to Jungkook one day.
Si Jungkook? Nakaupo lang sa sahig, taga-abot ng turnilyo, at puro tango lang ang ambag.
"Hm."
"Okay."
"I see."
Pero habang busy si Jimin sa kadadaldal tungkol sa masungit na cashier sa tapat, biglang nag-vibrate ang phone niya sa sahig. The screen lit up, and Jungkook's eyes quickly caught the notification before Jimin could react:
Mom
Are you okay today?
The moment Jimin saw it, something shifted in his eyes—just a split-second flash of vulnerability—bago niya mabilis na binaligtad ang phone para i-lock ito. The bright smile was instantly back on his face, as if nothing happened. "So ayun nga, iwasan mo 'yung elevator kapag Sabado ng gabi kung ayaw mong ma-stuck."
After a few minutes, when the table was finally assembled and they were done eating, tumayo na si Jimin para magpaalam. "Sige, maiwan na kita para makapagpahinga ka."
"Thanks for the food," Jungkook said, following him to the door.
Pero habang naglalakad si Jimin palabas, aksidenteng nasagi ng paa niya ang isa sa mga nakabukas na kahon ni Jungkook—the one labeled with bedroom clothes. There was a picture that slipped out and fell facing backwards on the floor.
Bago pa man ito tuluyang mabaligtad ni Jimin para tingnan, mabilis itong pinulot ni Jungkook. But in that quick second, Jimin saw something. The photo only showed a close-up of two hands intertwining. They were wearing matching rings. Walang mukha, walang pangalan.
Mabilis na itinago ni Jungkook ang picture sa bulsa niya, his jaw clenched tight. "Ingat."
"Yeah. Good night, Jungkook," Jimin said quietly, his tone a bit softer now, before closing the door.
Gabi na.
It was Jungkook's first night in the apartment. Sobrang tahimik. Nakaupo lang siya sa mattress niya sa gitna ng dilim. No lights. No TV. No music. The silence was heavy, enveloping him in the same familiar numbness he had been carrying for God knows how long.
Then, out of nowhere, a faint sound cut through the silence.
Someone was crying sa kabilang unit—it was coming directly from Jimin's room across the thin wall.
Hindi ito exaggerated na hagulgol o madramang pag-iyak. It was muffled, quiet, and painful—'yung tipong umiiyak na pilit pinipigilan ang sariling boses dahil ayaw niyang may makarinig. It was the sound of someone completely breaking down in secret.
Jungkook froze on his mattress, his eyes staring wide into the dark, listening to the soft, choked sobs of the exact same guy who was just smiling and talking about broken elevators an hour ago.
The crying stopped after a few minutes, leaving the silence heavier than before.
The next morning—
The first person Jungkook saw leaving the apartment across the hall wore the exact same bright smile as yesterday, cheerfully greeting the mailman as if nothing had happened.