Archive of Our Own ^beta

It was the smell that had lured him in.

He was more like an animal than a human these days. Or at least, he felt it: depending on his eyes and ears and gut to keep alive, body tensing at every snapped twig and whistling wind. He tracked using nothing but his instinct, to find food, to hunt, to keep moving, moving, moving until the bones in his body were exhausted and then some.

Maybe humans had once lived like this, back when they were more animal than man. Back when they weren't at the top of the food chain, could be hunted by things stronger and faster than them. And what were zombies if not that? And maybe it’d been the urge to be more like a human again that had led him to following his nose, towards the house practically hidden behind a crumbling factory warehouse.

It’d looked so innocent. So clean. Too clean. But the handle on the door was well-worn; constantly used.

Someone had settled down here. Settled down here as if the threat of zombies and death wasn't enough to keep anyone moving. As if it wasn't eight months into the end of the world.

And yet, there they were: the scuff of shoes on the doorstep as they're removed, a pile of laundry in a basket, freaking bunch of fresh flowers arranged nicely into a vase. This and more signs of domesticity as he crawled deeper into the house, his bemusement growing along with his hunger, along with the wonderful smell of something… cooking.

Honey. It smelled sweet, even when being cooked savoury.

He'd forgotten that.

He remembered, that he'd threatened the tall one with a rusty knife when they'd first met. Or rather the taller one. They're both freaking tall.

Taehyung. The one who did the actual cooking. He remembered now. Jungkook didn't really cook. He just helped out about the kitchen.

He's getting ahead of himself.

He met them like this:

~*~

“Holy shit did you just hiss at me?”

He doesn't know why he'd paused at that. Why the instincts that he'd built up for the many, many months just buckled and gave way to a blush of embarrassment then. He knows that he already doesn't look all that imposing with his rusty knife in his hand and small stature, but a blush would completely destroy any street cred he'd have held.

And as if things couldn't get any worse, his stomach decides right then and there to let out the loudest growl in the history of mankind.

Cue awkward pause.

Okay, honestly, maybe he should just take his own rusty knife and drive it into his stomach. Anything to save him from this embarrassment.

“Hey! Erm- no. Don't worry. I- ugh. Jungkook! Say something! You know I'm terrible with words!”

He’s wondering what this guy is going on about when a voice sounds from his right and he nearly jumps out of his skin. “I'm not that great with words either! And you're the one with experience!”

The idea of sticking himself with his knife is getting more and more appealing with each passing second. If this other man’s goal had been to kill him, then he'd have been dead already. Might as well hasten the inevitable, right?

“-listening? Er… hello? Erm… are you okay? Shit, Jungkook, do you think he's about to faint?”

“Why the fuck are you asking me? Maybe he doesn't want to eat is all and is thinking how he can reject you nicely.”

“That's sacrilege! Why would anyone reject my food?”

“Erm. Well-”

The two other men look like they’re about to start arguing, and he's always been a pacifist.  Even living amidst a zombie apocalypse hasn't changed that, as much as he’d wished it to. It's caused him more harm than help so far.

“No. I- I wasn't listening. Sorry… … what did you say?”

His own voice surprises him. It sounds a bit rusty - creaky even. But he shouldn't have been - surprised that is. He hadn't used his voice in maybe two months.

Hadn't had a reason to after all.

But it works. The other two men have seemed to refocus their attention on Jimin and the first one is smiling at him now and they’re… offering him food?

“What?”

“Food. Erm, we're in the middle of cooking dinner, but if you want, you can join us?”

He stares at the one who had spoken. He wonders if he’s finally gone mad from being all on his own for the past two months.

“I… I don't… think…”

“I mean, if you're worried about being any trouble, it's really no trouble at all.” The first man smiled, “or, I mean. Yeah. You don't know us at all right? I'm Taehyung, and that other useless lump is Jungkook. We stay here and run this… Well, I'd say restaurant, but we don't really have customers like that. Er… waylay house?”

“We just feed whoever comes by who wants it.” The second man, Jungkook pipes up, “or at least, Taehyung does. I just, chop the vegetables.”

“And the meat.” Taehyung chirps. “Come on, I made galbitang today. Was going to have the same thing for lunch and dinner, but well, we can just cook again.”

He doesn't think he should. His instincts are screaming at him, that this is far too good to be true. They could try to poison him, murder him.

But there's no reason for them to. He isn't carrying anything on him right now, other than his rusty knife, and a canteen he'd picked up on the road. He had to abandon his supplies a few days ago, when the camp he'd set up got discovered and raided by another group of survivors. And it hadn't been like he could have done anything, short of sneaking up on them while they were sleeping and slitting all their throats. Pacifist remember? So he'd just left them, feeling thankful that at least he hadn't been in his camp when they'd discovered it, otherwise it might have been his throat that had been slit.

But it doesn't change the fact that because of it, he's starving .

“Hey erm…” he looks up to see Jungkook smiling at him, the expression awkward and yet strangely soft. The other man scratches his ear. “If you're worried or anything… That's legit. I know it seems too good to be true. Heck, I thought so the same time but… you're hungry aren't you? You should eat something. If you want, we can pack the food up for you?”

“Yeah.” Taehyung adds, his expression less awkward, but no less genuine. “Although we'd love more company, but if you're uncomfortable, that's fine too.”

He looks at the two of them, at their careful smiles and hopeful expression. They really seem to want him to eat with them. And they seen nice… And not angry and out to murder him.

They could be crazy.

But it's just a weak excuse at this point. And to be honest, the smell of food is driving him to the point of insanity. He's just so hungry.

“I-  okay. Okay. I'll eat with you.”

If he's to die, at least, he should do it on a full stomach.

Taehyung beams, letting out a cheerful whoop. It seems silly - there isn't really anything to be excited about. “Great, I guess I should heat up an extra side of barley - yeah sorry. No rice, that's a bit hard to get now. But we make do. Anyway, I realized we haven't gotten your name yet.”

“Oh.” He blinks at that before he ducks his head. He suddenly remembers that not giving his name before accepting their offer probably is really rude. He hasn't had to bother about social norms for a while.

“Er-! If you're uncomfortable giving your name that's fine too-”

“Jimin.” He interjects before Taehyung can go off into a tangent again. “My name’s Jimin.”

“Oh! Jimin, great! That's a wonderful name. Now if you want a shower, maybe Jungkook can show you where you can wash. Or at least wipe yourself down. Sorry dude, I think you look pretty decent under all that grime, but, you stink.”

~*~

He took the shower in the end.

Although, he remembered now, that it’d been more of a rinse than a shower, dumping water over himself with a scoop from a huge tub of water. Something about Jungkook not having pumped up the water for the evening yet or something.

He’d tried to drink from at first before Jungkook had stopped him in alarm. This water was for bathing, and cleaning floors. And Jungkook would give him a cup of water that had been filtered and boiled after his bath.

He remembered, standing in the shower, wondering if maybe he'd stepped through some wormhole somewhere and had ended up in some sort alternate universe or something.

After, Jungkook had brought him the glass of water as he'd promised, but also a change of clothes and some cookies because dinner would still be a while and Jungkook thought he might want something to stop his stomach from eating itself out.

Standing there, in clean clothes, combed hair, eating cookies and drinking a glass of clean-tasting water, Jimin knew that that probably was the most human that he'd ever felt ever since the world had started to end.

~*~

“So, how is it?”

Jimin looks up, his cheeks still bulging with food, and he jumps and nearly chokes when Jungkook bursts out laughing, slapping his thigh. He's still pretty stunned as Taehyung rolls his eyes pushing Jungkook's arm and reassures Jimin that, “he's just weird. Don't mind him.”

The laughing turns to pouting scarily fast, and Jungkook wrinkles his nose, poking Taehyung's side. “Hey, I'm not the one asking the guest how's the food before he's even done. And don't worry about him, he just wants his ego fluffed, which you don't need to humour him if you think the food is bad.”

“Yah! If the food is bad, he wouldn't be wolfing it down like that.”

“If you knew that then why did you ask? Besides, it could also be that he was starving. When you're starving, even barbequed shit probably would taste good.”

“Well, how about I starve you for the next week and then make you barbequed shit and we see how that turns out?”

“Erm-” Jimin has finally managed to swallow the food he'd had in his mouth at this point, and thinks maybe he should interject before the threat becomes more solidly real. “The food’s great. It's… really, really good.”

The other two pause, before Jungkook snorts, “yeah. But I met him in a similar circumstance as you, and I readily admitted that I couldn't tell if his food was good or if it was shit because I was too hungry.”

“Hey, I asked you to have another meal so that we could both know for sure, and what was your verdict?”

“That you can cook better than me? Which isn't that high of a bar really.”

“Why, you little shi-”

“Erm!” Jimin interrupted again, “it's… it really is really good. Please… please don't fight.”

Taehyung pauses before he chuckles warmly. “Aw. Aren't you sweet. But don't worry, the two of us love each other. This is just the way we communicate with each other. We aren't really fighting.”

Jimin doesn't quite know how to respond to that. And in his pause, he notices Jungkook pinking a little, and… it's really weird, because it's been all zombie apocalypse for the past 8 months for him. And really, he doesn't even know why he's noticing this, or why it’d even be important.

But if nothing else, the golden rule he's always applied has yet to fail him - and he thinks it would work even here:

If it's none or his business, then he shouldn't stick his nose into it. Maybe live a little longer.

“R-right. Sorry. I just… I don't like conflict…”

“Ahh… Well, we'll try to argue less around you if that makes you uncomfortable?” Taehyung turns to look at Jungkook, “think you can handle that?”

“Only if you antagonize me less.”

“Wait- what do you mean…” Jimin interrupts before shrinking a little bit when they both turn to stare at him. “Ah… I mean… why… I'm probably gonna… leave… After this… You don't need to… Worry about that…?”

“Oh.” And Taehyung looks a little disappointed, “well, I guess if that's what you want, then…”

Maybe Jimin should have just left it there, but he can't hold back the sudden surge of curiosity, because, “there's… there's an… alternative?”

A few seconds of surprise, before Taehyung and Jungkook eye each other. And Jimin is beginning to get a bit nervous before Taehyung speaks again, “well. Like I said before, I feed anyone who comes by, and if you come by more than once, then well.”

“...We'll feed you more than once.” Jungkook supplies, mistaking Jimin’s stunned silence for misunderstanding. “Actually if you want to, Taehyung probably will offer you the spare room as well. Taehyung's the one who owns the place by the way. I'm… just like you actually. Stumbled here, got fed, got housed, and then kind of never left.”

“But…” Jimin finally says, but more because they're both looking at him like they want him to say something. “I… why would you do that? Aren't you afraid that I might… murder you in your sleep? Steal your stuff and then run off?”

“Oh.” Taehyung chuckles, “oh no, no. I mean, we're nice. Not dumb. This house only has a fraction of my food supply, so if you want to kill us then you're going to be losing out. Because, as long as I'm alive, you'll have an inexhaustive supply of food. If I'm dead, you only have what's in this house. Which isn't a lot. Maybe enough to last… a week and a half? Presuming nothing spoils.”

There's an infallible logic in that as long as what Taehyung speaks is the truth. If he speaks the truth. He turns to look at Jungkook, as if maybe he can gleam some revelation on the matter, but Jungkook just shrugs, “don't look at me. He still hasn't told me where he keeps most of his food stock. I only know what I need to know to do the chores I'm assigned to.”

“Hey, don't make it sound as if you're a slave. You're the one who started to do those chores on your own.” Taehyung protests, before shaking his head and turning his attention back to Jimin, “anyway, like I said, don't worry about us. Most people are more worried I'd murder them in their sleep, like this guy over here-”

“Hey, it was a legitimate concern.”

“Still is actually,” Taehyung agrees wryly, “so if you don't want to take up our offer, it's totally understandable. But at least, you know, let us load you up with food to last a few days or something. It's a bit hard to get food in this area if you don't know what you're doing.”

Jimin looks for some form of guile, some form of bluff, and sees none. Taehyung's eyes are clear, and so is Jungkook’s.

They seem kind.

But still.

He just... can't bring himself to trust them. Something inside him is yelling, screaming at him not to. That the two of them are just too perfect… That something's just…

Wrong.

“I…” Jimin says quietly after a moment, “the food supplies would be… helpful… if you don't mind giving them to me.”

The disappointed looks are back again. But this time, Jimin lets them dwell until Taehyung nods in understanding and says, “we'll set you up then, but finish eating first. The area here is pretty zombie free so you should have no problem finding a nice camp spot before the sun goes down. Sorry we can't spare you a flashlight, but we definitely can give you a few wood torches and a box of matches? Oh. And clothes. Your clothes are still kind of drying, but if you don't care for them, you can have the set you're wearing right now. It can't fit either of us anyway, so… yeah.”

It's more than Jimin had expected actually. And he's not one to just simply look a gifthorse in the mouth. “Thank you.” He says quietly, “this will really help me a lot.”

“Hey, it's really no problem.” Taehyung looks over at Jungkook who nods, “I'm just doing what any decent person would do.”

~*~

He remembered he'd been wary at first, but who could blame him?

He tried to scrape together some more supplies by himself at first. He lasted about maybe four days before he realized it wasn't working.

What Taehyung had said had been right - it was hard to find food in this area if you didn't know what you were doing. He'd explored around but most of the buildings were abandoned warehouses that still has a few ambling zombies among them, with nothing useful except a few tools and metal bits that Jimin had taken for himself. And the forests had wildlife in them, certainly, but he was missing most of the stuff he needed to make traps to hunt, and it wasn't like he'd been that good to be able to hunt with his bare hands.

And so, Jimin was stuck. He probably could try to make the trip with the three days worth of food, hope that his luck finding more would improve, and get to the next town.

Or he could… go back, ask for more. They said they would feed him whenever he went back after all.

He’d pondered on the dilemma for two more days, and by then, it was a fool's errand to think he'd be able to make the trip with one day’s worth of food.

He went back.

~*~

It's kind of a good thing that Jungkook is out in the front working with some kind of pump mechanism, because Jimin thinks that he would have ended up loitering outside like an idiot for a good amount of time while he debated with himself yet again if he shouldn't just maybe not disturb the two nice fellers who had given him food once already and really don't need to deal with his shit a second time. Because Jungkook sees him approaching from the distance and his face visibly brightens, even from so far away, and Jimin shyly waves back as he realizes that it's probably too late to have second thoughts now.

But Jungkook doesn't even question why Jimin is back. He simply just waves Jimin into the house, saying. “Tae’s out doing some chores and won't be back until an hour later. I need to finish pumping the water up first then I'll go fix you something fast? Just hole up in the living room. There's some books and shit if you're into such a thing? If not you can just chill. I should be done in about five to ten more minutes?”

And Jimin kind of gets shooed in and he feels too awkward to do anything else but do as he's told, and he perches on one of the couches, a little afraid he might dirty it. But true to his word, Jungkook sort of rushes in, yelling something about leftovers, and soon, Jimin is being shoved a plate with a sandwich with some kind of tasty meat jammed inside and Jungkook apologizing about his presentation skills.

Jungkook is kind of awkward, Jimin won't deny. But there's something endearing about the way he tries. And then, they both stumble upon the fact that they're both from Busan, and the floodgates just open, and this the scene Taehyung comes back to:

Jimin having Jungkook in a playful headlock, the two of them laughing too hard for this to be anything but play. They're yelling stuff, but Taehyung can't really tell what they're yelling beyond the fact that it sounds like satoori? And he just leans against the doorway, watching in amusement, and wondering how long it’d take before either of them notice him.

Jimin notices Taehyung first, and when he does, he trips, pulling the both of them onto the ground in his alarm. But maybe Jungkook had actually seen Taehyung since the older man had arrived, Taehyung can smell it from the way he just giggles more, expression unsurprised as he waves at Taehyung from where he's lying on the ground. He probably just hadn't been bothered to stop his fun, definitely not for the sake of something like greeting Taehyung.

When they finally untangle themselves, Taehyung pushes away from the doorway, and with a large grin, he asks:

“So… what would you guys like for dinner?”

~*~

It was a slow decline, but it felt like a freefall. At first, Jimin only went over for dinner; then it became lunch and dinner, and then one day, Taehyung had shaken him from where he'd fallen asleep on the couch and pretty much shoved him upstairs and into the spare bedroom and then Jimin just didn't bother to leave.

It took over the course of two weeks maybe, but it felt like forever. And Jimin can't remember how he could have possibly lived before this - without Taehyung, without Jungkook, without their care and smiles. He can't remember how he could have possibly survived all on his own.

~*~

“Taehyung?” Jimin pokes his head into the kitchen, a basket of laundry perched on his hip, “I finished taking in the laundry okay, so you don't have to leave the stove when you start cooking, okay?”

Taehyung looks up from where he's penning something into what looks like a logbook of sorts, and his mouth spreads into a brilliant smile. “Oh. Wow. That's… you're seriously such a help, Jimminie. I don't know what we'd do without you.”

Jimin’s chest can't help but puff up with pride at that, but he ducks his head, blushing and mumbles something about putting away the laundry and backing out.

It's like any normal day, or any normal day ever since he's started living with Taehyung and Jungkook. And Jimin is beginning to really fit in, sink into the spaces that Jungkook and Taehyung have left, tucking away any of the edges that had been peeking out. They are a few spaces which Jimin won't touch, and it's the unordinarily close relationship between Jungkook and Taehyung, even with all the hugs and various forms of skinship they share with Jimin: there's no mistaking when Jimin sometimes doesn't see Jungkook anywhere else in the house while Taehyung's door is closed, and thankfully, the walls in this house seem thick, and all he can hear sometimes are muffled sounds, but well, he doesn't think he's quite ready to unpack that yet. But other than that, he likes them, likes how warm and welcoming they are, and chores are just his way of repaying them but a fraction of how grateful he feels.

And on this normal day, Jimin is doing his duty of putting away the laundry - a chore that both Taehyung and Jungkook hate, so they tend to just leave everything into organized piles. But Jimin doesn't mind. Putting the laundry away is pretty cathartic.

It's all normal until Jimin is done with stowing away the laundry in Jungkook's room, and he lifts the basket of laundry to bring it to Taehyung's, and that's when his body suddenly jerks, the oddest feeling of numbness seizing his body.

He watches the laundry basket fall to the floor, the clothes spilling out like the milk from rhetoric. But he can't move, can't bat an eyelid, can barely even breathe.

And then suddenly it's over, and he nearly falls over if not from shock, then relief. And he's panting and breathing, wondering what the hell had that been?

Barely seconds later, he gets another shock, when a hand touches his back, and he jumps, nearly falling over into a defensive crouch, before he realizes the person staring at him with concerned eyes is not some random attacker, but Taehyung.

Taehyung who has his hands out in front of him, placating, as if this is weeks back and there had been absolutely no trust between them. Taehyung, who is… apologizing.

“Hey… sorry. I… I thought you heard me. Are you… are you okay?”

It hurts Jimin’s heart a little.

“Y-yeah. Yeah. Sorry. I- I just.” Jimin breathes in, trying to reign in the panic. How does he explain what had happened when he doesn't know either? “I don't know… maybe I got a… cramp or something?”

“Oh.” Taehyung blinks before he frowns. “Have you been overdoing it? I mean you are recovering from malnourishment.”

“I… no- I…” That doesn't quite make sense. Because if that had been the case, then he should have experienced such symptoms earlier. But Taehyung seems quite convinced, and he's pulling Jimin into his arms, carding his fingers through Jimin’s hair, probably trying to be comforting, and it's just so nice to be pampered for once. “I… I guess…”

“Mmm… next time you don't need to do all the laundry okay? Maybe you can help me watch the food? I'll teach you how.”

Jimin likes doing the laundry, and Taehyung likes cooking. It's not the other way around. But somehow, Jimin finds himself nodding. “Yeah… That's… that sounds nice.”

“It does, doesn't it?” Taehyung smiles down at Jimin kindly, “you feeling better? If you are, leave the laundry for a bit, okay? Lunch is ready.”

~*~

If only it’d happened but once. If it had, Jimin could have brushed it off as a freak occurrence: a once-off, absolutely nothing to worry about.

If only Jimin didn't need to hide the multiple times it would happen after. He was afraid - maybe of worrying Taehyung and Jungkook, maybe because he's worried he'd get kicked out for causing trouble. Truth was, he didn't really know why; just that he hid it. Instinct told him to.

Maybe, if it had just been that, it would have been fine. He wouldn't have been discovered. But it hadn't been just that.

There was also the hunger.

~*~

It's barely been an hour after lunch and Jimin is hungry again.

It's like a gnawing in his stomach: like a creature had crawled inside him in his sleep, taking up residence in his belly. And now this creature keeps demanding to be fed.

It's highly inconvenient, is what it is, especially since he's trying not to make Taehyung or Jungkook worry. And it's as if Taehyung does suspect something, from the way he keeps asking Jimin if he's okay. And Jimin has already asked Taehyung to increase the amount he's eating during regular meals, and Taehyung had happily complied under the presumption that Jimin’s appetite has grown after recovering from months if not eating properly and those few days of starvation. But other than that, Jimin isn't quite sure what else he can do to quell this disturbing hunger.

So he tries to bear with it, ignore the way his stomach squeezes and curdles and groans, until it's such a constant presence that he can treat it almost as if it's white noise.

Until he can't.

The one who discovers him is Jungkook. And he's not even particularly conscious when it happens. Just knows that his stomach isn't growling at him like it has been for the past few days. And by the time he’s returned to his senses, the first thing he's aware of is Jungkook standing in the doorway, his already large eyes made even larger by the way they're bulging.

It's strange, but he's only aware of the food he's been stuffing into his mouth after he tries to speak and realizes his mouth is full.

The silence is awkward, Jimin looking down at the bits of food stuck onto his hands. He'd dug into the meat patties that Taehyung has made to be used for the course of the whole week. They aren't even fully cooked, and Jimin hadn't even bothered using utensils, apparently having gone at them with his bare hands.

Finally, someone between the two of them says something. Although, say is a term used loosely, because Jungkook lets out a strangled noise that barely can be constituted as words, “what the fuck, Jimin?”

What the fuck indeed. Jimin doesn't know the answer, but Jungkook is looking at him so expectant, that he just feels he has to say something.

“I-” Jimin finally drags out, a sheepish expression on his face. “I was… hungry?”

Jungkook pauses at this, an incredulous look on his face. And then, like the little shit he is, says, “I'm hungry too, but you don't see me stuffing my face like a freaking chipmunk who hasn't eaten for days.”

Jimin makes a face, “it wasn't on purpose. I think I was sleepwalking… sleep eating? I've been so hungry these few days. Maybe I've got a worm or something.”

Something in Jungkook's face changes, and Jimin doesn't know what. But the younger just sighs, scratching his head. “Ah whatever. Come on, let's clean you up and then I'll fix you something to eat. And let's hope Taehyung doesn't kill us in the morning for sneaking his meat patties at night.”

“Nah. He loves us too much.” Jimin falls into the usual rhetoric too easily. Even with his grimy, meat-covered hands and slow panic simmering somewhere below his gut.

And Jungkook smiles, a smile that Jimin doesn't understand. “Yeah. That he does. That he does.”

~*~

The rest of the days passed by in a blur.

But that was mostly because Jimin got worse.

~*~

Where is he?

Jimin’s eyesight blurs a little bit. There's a pleasant taste in his mouth. His mouth is moving. Maybe. It's hard to think.

But the texture in his mouth is good. A good give, a good bite.

It's so hard to think nowadays. When had that happened? He has blackouts now - but maybe not actual blackouts? He can't tell if it's that, or if his memory is getting worse.

Is this Alzheimer's? Or something else? But he's too young to get Alzheimer's.

When had been the last time he'd blacked out? Had it been that time four days ago while he'd been out helping to trim the lawn? Or no, four days would have been too long. Or had it been at dinner yesterday and he'd gotten so hungry he'd just ate and ate and asked for even more?

Or had it been ten days ago? And he doesn't remember what had happened exactly. But when he'd come to, Taehyung and Jungkook had had the same sad look in their eyes.

Jimin doesn't understand that sad look.

He doesn't understand Taehyung and Jungkook. He thinks it's weird that they don't panic. They don't do anything other than hug him and pretend nothing is wrong. Or they don't, but simply downplay things, offer him more rest and sleep and food. It's really weird, but if he asks, they just distract him. He had thought once, that they're just the sort who don't like to worry, and thus don't like their friends to worry. But now, he just thinks it's really fucking weird.

It's so, so hard to think.

That's wrong. It can't be ten days ago. It doesn't work. No, when… when had it been?

Where is he?

The kitchen. That's right? He'd been helping to put away the dishes. That only makes sense. But… no? Taehyung had stopped him doing the dishes after he'd dropped one too many, hands shaking and unstable. Why… why had his hand started shaking? He feels fine.

Why is he in the kitchen?

‘Food.’ His mind supplies, ‘the kitchen is where food is.’

And he's always so fucking hungry nowadays.

That's right. That's what’s in his mouth right now. The texture. The taste.

Meat.

It's meat.

And then, Jimin blinks, and his vision clears for once. For the first time in many, many days, his mind is clear as he stares down at the raw, bloody piece of meat he has in his hands.

It's the meat that Taehyung uses in almost all of his recipes. It looks a little like chicken… And yet, the slab in his hand looks big enough to have come from an animal as big… as a pig maybe. Too big to be from a chicken. But the coloration doesn't quite look like pork either.

Neither Taehyung nor Jungkook have ever identified exactly what meat this is before, and Jimin had never questioned it.

Why hadn't he questioned it?

What is this meat he's been eating?

“Jimin?”

He turns to see Taehyung standing quietly behind him. Jungkook isn't too far away, lurking quietly in the doorway.

He doesn't know why he starts crying. Almost doesn't realize. But there's a wetness on his cheeks that must be tears.

“What's wrong with me?” He hears someone whisper in his voice.

But maybe he hadn't asked the question. Because all Taehyung does is step closer, and his arms move as if to pull Jimin into a hug. “I'm sorry.”

There's something in Taehyung's hand that Jimin cannot see. But he feels it, a pin prick into his neck.

And then, darkness.

~*~

He didn't know why he was remembering this only now. Barely knew what was going on to be honest.

It was so hard to think. Everything flickered, the images in his head nearly static, like a bad movie. His memories were all messed up.

He remembered, vague colours, smells. Food being fed to him, the highlight of the day. Rattling of the bars as they stand outside, looking in.

He remembered now. Bars. There were bars.

And Taehyung and Jungkook on the other side.

He can't really see them anymore. Light hurt them and his vision was sort of obscured. But he didn't think he would ever forget their smells.

Taehyung smelt like apples and sunshine. Jungkook like musk and soap.

They smell good.

And he wished they would come closer. So he could smell them better. But they stayed far away, standing behind the bars.

Looked at him like he was some kind of animal.

~*~

“Hyung, he looks so miserable inside. Can't we just-”

“Kook, I know it's hard. But it's the least we owe him, to wait it out, no matter how painful it is, until he's fully turned.”

~*~

He remembered.

The bars to the cage he's in opening. Or it's… not so much a cage, just a corner of the house barred in. It was a rare moment of clarity in which he could deduce this.

The sound of footsteps, and the glint of dull metal in the dim, buzzing lamp.

The ground was filthy, but so was he. Those brown Timberlands were so much clearer by comparison. He wanted to look up, but it was so hard. His muscles don't listen to his mind anymore. They stopped a while ago, he realized.

But the smell of him, even if Jimin can't look at him anymore, was heavenly.

He doesn't remember surging forward, the sound of teeth clacking and clicking in the air, but he must have, because those Timberland-clad feet take a step back, hesitating. Afraid.

He didn't understand why Jungkook would be afraid. It was just Jimin. Jimin who folded their laundry, who they'd welcomed into their home, showered him with hugs and with food. Fed him, oh so well.

Jimin wished Jungkook would come closer. Close enough for Jimin to touch. He wanted to hug Jungkook again.

To breath in that wonderful smell.

“Jungkook.” He remembered calling, wishing he had the mind to remember how to say more words. “Jungkook.”

The Timberland-clad feet paused.

There was conversation. Jimin can hear very well now. Even if he didn't recall everything he heard; wasn't able to process every meaning to every sound he could hear beyond ‘person nearby’.

But he still remembered that he understood this, even he didn’t understand what it had all meant.

“Hyung, I think he's still in there.”

“Then just wait a while longer. It won't be long now, trust me.”

He remembered Jungkook’s smell, musk and soap; and the scent of apples and sunshine; even if the pleasant is edged with the sour smell of death.

He’d always been good at ignoring parts of things he didn't like.

But Taehyung, and Jungkook. He wished they would come closer. So he could breathe in those delicious scents, bury his face into the crook of their necks…

And take a big, big bite.

There's the sound of a snarl, so animalistic that Jimin was almost afraid.

It was the last thing he would remember.

~*~

The house was a little quieter after that. Jimin hadn't been noisy per say, but he had brought quite a bit of warmth and joy in, simply with his presence.

Jungkook sighs as he finishes setting the table, staring at the third empty chair as Taehyung finishes bringing out the food and they both take their seats.

Taehyung's gaze is soft, understanding, “it's pretty hard, huh?

Jungkook sighs, turning to look back at Taehyung. “I was… hoping, you know? That he would be like us. I liked him a lot. I wanted him to be immune.”

“Mmm… I do know.” Taehyung’s smile is wry. “I feel it for anyone who stays. But Jimin was really sweet, and I did find myself wishing more. And my hopes were a little higher because he's the next right after you. But well, it's not like it was a very big shock. He took longer than normal to turn fully.”

“Mmm…” Jungkook reaches out to squeeze Taehyung's hand, and Taehyung returns the gesture, but pulls his hand away after but a moment. “Come, let's eat before the food turns cold.”

Dinner is soup and a pile or dumplings - both boiled and pan fried. There is soy sauce and vinegar and piles of chopped ginger. It's a venerable feast in the circumstances they're in. But Jungkook doesn't seem particularly enthused.

Taehyung has picked up his first dumpling, but pauses just before his first bite. “Something wrong?”

Jungkook squirms in his chair a little, “I don't know. Just seems a little…”

The words hang in the air for a while as Jungkook looks down at the dumplings. They glisten in the light, delicious and welcoming. Jungkook feels a tiny bit sick.

Taehyung sighs and puts down his chopsticks. “Hey. Jungkook? Listen… Jimin wasn't really Jimin any more. You know that. And this meat… is no different than that meat you ate with him at this very table.”

“I know.” Jungkook winces, “logically I know. It just feels… wrong. Is all.”

“It's no more wrong than killing an animal for food, remember? We made sure he was fully turned before we killed him.” Taehyung reminds, and finally he puts the dumpling into his mouth. And chews. Swallows. “Oh. I think… I outdid myself this time.”

Jungkook's interest (and stomach) picks up at that. And after a beat, he reaches out and picks up a dumpling.

It's one of the boiled ones, the skin soft and smooth, reminding him a little of Jimin’s skin actually, and after a last moment of hesitation, he pops the dumpling into his mouth.

It bursts with juice and flavour, the meat succulent and tasty; and Jungkook can't help the moan that escapes. “Oh… you're right, hyung. You outdid yourself this time.”

“I'll be fair now though, and will admit that it's probably the superiority of ingredients that makes it so darn delicious.” And Taehyung's smile turns fond. “That's our Jimin, forever pampering us even after his passing.”

And one day, maybe Jungkook will reach the level of Taehyung's blithe attitude towards death. For now, his stomach tightens a little and he works with himself to wrestle through all the moral codes leftover from a society that no longer exists. And finally he says, “I suppose it's fitting he was made into dumplings, huh?”

And Taehyung nods, “they're just like him. Soft, tender and sweet.”

“Here's to Jimin.” And Jungkook picks up a dumpling, raising it like some kind of bizarre toast.

“To Jimin.” Taehyung agrees, picking up one as well in a mirrored action, and they do an odd thing as they bump dumplings, which makes them laugh even as they both eat that second piece.

The world continues to move on.