Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Jungkook’s POV

I was scrolling mindlessly through twitter, not paying heed to the loud voices of my students in the background. Waiting for the bell to ring and restore peace in the class, I let my eyes drift over the ocean of indistinguishable words, as if lost, astray, unable to find their path back to reason. 

I stood, as if bewitched, lost in distant memories, when the hasty steps of a student of mine brought me back to reality. I immediately put my phone down, noticing the fear on her face.

I stood, as if bewitched, lost in distant memories, when the hasty steps of a student of mine brought me back to reality. I immediately put my phone down, watching as they came close.

“Mr. Jeon, Yin isn’t feeling well!”

I jumped up, scanning the class in search of the girl.

“Where is she?”

She pointed at the back of the room, where, in a corner, many students had gathered. 

I made my way through the dense jungle of curious heads, heart pounding uncontrollably. Barely visible behind the desks, I spotted the trembling figure on the ground, another girl crouched down next to her. 

“Hey Yin… would you mind telling me what’s wrong?” Her unfocused eyes were wandering lazily around the room, lost in a dark mist of haze.

“Please Yin, I can’t help you otherwise.” I insisted, placing a hand on her shoulder in hopes to shake her from her trance. When her eyes finally met mine, I regretted it. No word could describe the grief that her helpless gaze brought onto me. Those eyes… the silent plea in them, the fear, the solitude. I diverted my gaze elsewhere before the dark shadow of despair could claim me.

“I-I’m dizzy, my head hurts…” She murmured. Her voice was nothing more than a feeble whisper, her lips as pale as snow. With a whimper, she rested her head in her knees.

“Have you eaten anything this morning?” She weakly shook her head.

It was only then that it clicked in my head. An ancient fear crept on me, as I tried to understand and, at the same time, to protect what was left of my wavering self-control. It couldn’t be, right? This had to be just a coincidence.

“Mr Jeon, what should we do?” Yin’s friend asked.

I took a deep breath. “Go to the nursery and ask for water, and some sugar.”

She nodded and ran off. I was trying to recompose myself when a soft, quiet whimper escaped Yin’s chapped lips and she collapsed on me.

“Shit- hey, hey Yin!”

The students gasped all around us.

“Okay.” I whispered to myself, trying to steady my shaky hands.

“Let’s lay her down…” I said, looking at the other friend who had remained by her side. We laid her head on a backpack, as she heavily panted, her face deathly pale. I hoped she would quickly come back to her senses, but she laid there, still, as if lifeless.

“Yin! Wake up!” I lightly shook her, but no answer came.

“Okay, no more waiting. I’ll take her to the nursery.” The students moved aside as I sprinted down the corridor with the girl limp in my arms. Right on the doorstep stood Yin’s friend. When she saw me coming she dropped the cup of water in shock and brought her hands to her mouth. I quickly reached the nursery and entered the small room just as YIN’s friend was exiting it.

I stormed into the room. “Jimin hyung!” I called.

My best friend, none other than the nurse, jumped up from his chair and had me lay the girl on a stretcher.

“What happened to her?”

I pushed my hair back, catching my breath.

“She passed out. She told me she was feeling dizzy, and… she...”

“She has been skipping meals!”

I turned towards the door. Her friend was looking at Yin with pity. “I… she’s lost a lot of weight recently… I should have… I’m sorry I should have told you all sooner… I-”

Jimin placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Hey, don’t worry, she’s gonna be fine. Do you know anything more? Has she mentioned any diet? You know when she last ate?”

She shook her head. “She’s really reserved. I never see her eating, although we are together all day…”

“You share the room, right?”

She nodded, tears forming in her eyes.

“Okay, we’re gonna take good care of her. Please go to the secretary and ask for a substitute for the class. Mr Jeon and I will make sure she’s fine. Come back at the end of the lesson so that we can update you.” She nodded, reluctantly exiting the room.

Jimin quickly shut the door and took off the girl’s hoodie. Yin was now laying there in a plain t-shirt. Her body was bony and fragile: she was extremely skinny.

My friend immediately realised his mistake and drew the curtain so that I couldn’t see her. He had me sit on a stretcher, but my gaze was still on the curtain. As if engraved in my mind, her fragile figure still stood in front of me.

“Kook? Jungkook, please, look at me.” Jimin took my head in his hands. “This isn’t the time to panic, okay? Breathe.”

“She… she’s so… just like h-him…”

“I know, but you can’t think about that now. Listen to me- no, stop looking over there, look at me. You need to calm down. I’m gonna take a look at her. You stay here, keep breathing, and then we figure it out, okay?”

I nodded. But I couldn’t sit still. I took shallow breaths, uneasy.

“You okay?” Jimin asked from behind the curtain, sensing my state.

“I… she just collapsed on me… and- and she was so pale, and so light when I picked her up…”

“She’s… hyung I could never forgive myself if she… I didn’t realize what was going on… all the similarities… how could I not notice? The baggy clothes, e-everything…”

Jimin walked towards me, deep pity in his eyes. “Slow down. She’s stable. I hooked her up to a nutrient IV.”

I was relieved she was stable. But the dreaded question still burned at the back of my mind. “So, she…”

“Yeah…” Jimin murmured. “She is quite underweight.”

I gripped the stretcher in hopes of not losing my balance. Everything spun around me, whispers, whispers behind me, telling me it was my fault.

“Fuck… how could I let that happen under my nose for the second time?”

Jimin’s hand on my shoulder slowed the world’s merciless spinning. I held onto it, forehead beaded with sweat, heart heavy with guilt.

“Jungkook it’s not your fault. Tell me, what could you do? It’s not like you have any control over her eating or something.”

I bit my lip. I knew I was being unreasonable. He sighed again as he offered me a cup of warm tea.

“You’re still the same little kid who always put all the weight of the world on his shoulders, Jungkook; Don’t put yourself through more than what you can handle. You did it in the past: and it didn’t end well.”

I instinctively dragged my left sleeve down to my fist.

“You don’t need to worry about her: she’s not that serious. We can still do plenty for her.”

“When… w-when will she wake up?” I stuttered. He shrugged.

“Maybe in ten minutes, or half an hour; we’ll see how her body reacts to the nutrients. Make sure to be a bit calmer by then. You don’t want to frighten her, don’t you? You’re a mess…” He said, sweetly smiling, fixing my hair.

“Hyung, do you still have… the meds?” The smile faded from his lips. He took the small familiar box out of his pocket.

“Always. But don’t overuse them, okay? You have to try to overcome that without using the meds. If it still doesn’t work, then take one.” He reluctantly handed me the anxiety suppressants. I gripped the box, as if my life actually depended on it. Jimin had a worried look plastered on his face. He placed his hand over mine and gently took the small box away. I was about to protest when he stopped me.

“Wait, Kook, let's do it like this:” I looked at him, puzzled, as he searched through a couple of drawers. He took out an even smaller box, and he put one pill in it, handing it back to me.

“I can't risk you overdosing on those. Not again. If you need help just call me. I'll give you them only when strictly necessary, alright? Your office is just across the corridor, and your apartment is next to mine: please just come to me if you need help. I promise you it's much better, okay?”

I reluctantly nodded. He then hugged me tightly.

“When she wakes up, if she’s strong enough we’ll ask her some questions about this little habit of skipping meals. She lives on campus, so we’ll surely be able to check on her often. Her friend will be glad to help too: I’m sure.”

I nodded, releasing a few shaky breaths. It was going to be fine… Or at least I hoped so.

Chapter Text

Yin’s POV

“Hey, can you hear me?”

I slowly opened my eyes to an unfamiliar ceiling. I thought I was waking up in my dorm, but obviously that wasn’t the case. A man I didn’t recognize was standing over me. Under his blonde, slightly wavy hair, brown, caring eyes. He had a warm smile plastered on his face.

“W-where-” I murmured; my voice was way feebler than I expected. I felt weak and tired, and I didn’t even know why. My head couldn’t piece together the little fragments of my memory and being in a place I didn’t know surely wasn’t helping. For what I knew I could have even been abducted. 

“Darling, calm down, I’m going to explain everything to you.” The man softly spoke, putting his hand on my shoulder. My chest was rising quickly, uneasiness growing on me.

“I’m Park Jimin, the school nurse, everything’s fine, okay? It seems that you collapsed earlier in class, and your teacher brought you here in the nursery.”

He moved aside, and I saw my teacher sitting on a bed across the room, arms crossed. He nodded and briefly smiled at me before redirecting his eyes at the ground. I was taken aback when I glimpsed sadness in his eyes. It was a look I had sometimes noticed on his face in random times during the lessons, but it now looked much more intense than usual.

“See? You can relax, there’s nothing strange going on” the nurse’s voice brought me back to reality. I nodded, letting out a shaky breath. I looked down at my body. An IV line was attached to my right arm. That’s when I realized I didn’t have my hoodie on.

“M-my hoodie” I gasped, suddenly sitting up, the sudden action making my head spin. I gripped the bed for support.

“No sweetie, you can’t sit up like that, you don’t want to pass out again, do you?” The nurse gently made me lie down again. Even though it was useless, I desperately crossed my thin arms over my waist, desperately trying to hide my body. I was ashamed of it and didn’t want to show it to anyone, let alone to the charming nurse and my favourite teacher who I always feared to let down. Despite the nurse was extremely reassuring I couldn’t feel at ease. My eyes followed Mr. Jeon as he got up and handed me a blanket, his eyes never lifting from the ground. I felt like he understood my uneasiness. I relaxed a bit, letting out another shaky breath I didn’t even know I was holding.

“T-thank you...” I murmured, not really knowing what else to say. He just nodded, still looking at the grey-tiled floor, and went to sit on the bed again, arms crossed. The nurse blocked my view of Mr. Jeon, although he occasionally looked back.

“Now, darling, I think I’ve told you everything I know. Would you mind explaining us what’s going on?”

My cheeks tainted of a dark shade of red. No sound came out of my mouth; I couldn’t bring myself to talk. The nurse sighed and crouched down, his face at the same level with mine.

“You know, we can’t help you if you don’t tell us what’s wrong…”

I nodded, taking a deep breath. “I- maybe my diet got a bit… out of control-”

“When did it start?” I eyed him shyly.

“Well… I mean, I’ve been dieting for a long time, but… it got more intense around spring break. I’ve always been… a little o-overweight a-and I just wanted to feel better so-”

“So what did you do?”

My eyes darted up to the nurse’s face again. His eyes were stern, there was no trace of the old reassuring expression that had made his lineaments look so sweet and soft just a minute before. When I didn’t immediately answer he arched his eyebrows.

“It all went well... until…” I gulped. I felt like a prisoner being inquired by a policeman. I lowered my eyes, feeling his burning stare on me. I heard Mr. Jeon shift and turn. I wanted to look at what he was doing, but the nurse blocked my view, and insisted for me to tell the truth.

“I-I started to get excited b-by eating less, a-and”

“And when did you ate your last decent meal?” I tensed up. How could he know so much about my situation? I bit my lip, ashamed, and murmured.

“On Monday… I… think?” I heard a whimper across the room, but I didn’t want to meet the nurse’s stern gaze again, so I fought the urge of catching another glimpse of Mr. Jeon. The blonde-haired man sighed.

“That means 3 days ago… And how did you feel while eating that meal?” he continued.

“I felt ugly… and-” I couldn’t bring myself to say anything else, a lump instantly forming in my throat.

“You have to say it out loud.” The nurse’s voice was commanding, and I knew I couldn’t disobey. I just shut my eyes tightly and with a trembling voice I repeated everything I had told myself in those months, in those years, since the first day I had realized I was fat.

“A pig, a slut, a stupid thing that can’t control her eating habits, a disappointment, useless, untalented swine, horrible monster…” I burst into sobs, not being able to say anything else. The nurse’s arms circled me, hugging me tightly.

He stared at me for some time, as if pondering what to say.

During that minute of silence, I just wished the ground would open under my feet and swallow me whole.

You have ruined it all; I kept thinking. Now they’ll force you to eat, they’ll make you go back to being fat.

And yet I was scared. I thought everything would be fine if I just didn’t eat. But now I was sitting on a stupid nursery bed, too weak to even walk, I didn’t even remember what feeling good was like. Looking back at the past months, the only thing I could remember was fear. Fear of gaining weight again, fear of food.

And today, for the first time, bare and exposed in front of the person I didn’t want to disappoint, I felt ashamed for what my body had become.

I couldn’t help myself but cry like a baby, exhausted, hopeless. Drowsiness was slowly creeping on me, and I welcomed it eagerly. Anything to make me forget, to delay the judgement, the shame, the things they would have me do. I wanted it all gone.

I wanted myself gone.

As if already distant, I heard Jimin’s voice.

“Now rest a bit more, hmm? We’ll figure out how to help you later, kay?”

As he drew the curtain, I caught a glimpse of who I thought was Mr. Jeon huddled on the floor. Before I could even process what I had seen, sleep took over me.

Jimin’s POV

It had been so hard to keep a composed face in front of the girl while I forced her to tell me everything she had done to herself.

Her words made my heart wrench, as memories flooded my mind. Jungkook wasn’t taking the news too well either. His whimpers and little gasps hadn’t passed unnoticed, and I had to act quickly to hide Jungkook’s state. My heart ached at every whimper.

When she burst out crying, I was immediately reminded of Jungkook’s desperate cries at the funeral. I was on the point of breaking down myself, pity in my eyes.

As soon as I closed the curtain, I ran to Jungkook’s side. He was crouched on the floor, tightly clutching his chest. I put one of his arms around my neck and helped him up, though he wasn’t stable enough to walk and I ended up carrying his dead weight in the other room, trying not to disturb Yin. He wobbled towards the sink in the room's corner, and he started throwing up, gasping desperately, his eyes watery and sweat beading his forehead. I held him up, pushing his wet bangs back and rubbing his back. He then groaned in pain and collapsed on the floor, panting. I helped him on a bed.

“Come on Kook, calm down, you’re gonna kill yourself if you continue like this.”

He blankly stared into space his chest rising definitely too quickly, an exhausted look on his face. I hadn’t seen him this way in years. I quickly applied a cold ice pack on his forehead while measuring his pulse. His heart was beating too fast, it was risky.

“Jungkook, Jungkook please listen to me,” I pleaded. But he, eyes wild, started roaming the room, mumbling nonsense.

“Jungkook, you have to calm down! Jungkook!”

He leaned onto a bed, panting. Before I could reach him his muscled tensed up, he fell with a thud on the floor and he started seizing, right in front of my eyes.

“Fuck!” I whispered in distress, running to the cabinet where I held every medication I used to treat Jungkook with.

“Lorazepam… lorazepam… where the fuck is it!” I knocked down a couple of bottles before finally finding the small brown bottle. I hit trays and stuff while going back to Jungkook, but I didn’t care at all. I prepared the injection, and struggled to keep his arm still, convulsions still violently shaking his body. I finally managed to inject the solution, tears rolling down my eyes and constantly repeating useless apologies.

He slowed down until he completely stopped seizing. He was now still, in a sleeping state. I checked his pulse, just to be sure, and yes, he was alive.

Thank God! I laid down next to him. I closed my eyes, pinching my nose bridge, trying to calm down. Using all that was left of my willpower, I sat up and looked around.

The room was a mess, objects scattered around from when I had accidentally knocked them down trying to find the medicine. I took out my phone and called an ambulance, so that they could take him in for some time and check on him.

I was unprepared for that situation. I had become a nurse to stay by Jungkook’s side and help him when in need. And yet my response was slow, and it couldn’t be excluded that Jungkook had hurt himself. I slowly got up, checking on Jungkook again, now in a deep sleep. I pitied his state. His hair was messily scattered around, his chest drenched in sweat and his face deathly pale.

I bitterly laughed thinking at how cruel the destiny was to put someone with anorexia in front of Jungkook, after all he had gone through. Was this really necessary? He was only 25, why did he have to go through all this suffering already?

I started cleaning up the mess I had created and looked in the mirror. My cheeks were flushed, and my hair were even messier than Jungkook’s. I splashed my face with cold water and fixed myself up, trying to look more normal. The ambulance arrived as well as my mentor, Doctor Kim Namjoon. He was 3 years older than me and was one of our old school friends. He was one of the best doctors in Seoul, and had always looked after Jungkook, since the first episodes occurred. As he entered, he patted my back.

“How is he?”

I sighed. “He’s fine, now. He had a bad seizure episode; I’ve seen nothing this bad since those days… you know… 8 years ago when his brother… yeah.”

He nodded. “What triggered him?”

I pointed at the other room. “A student of his, probably anorexic.”

“That’s bad… we’ll take him in and see what we can do to calm him down.” As the nurses worked on putting him on the stretcher, Namjoon put a hand on my shoulder.

“And what about you? Are you okay?”

I couldn’t bring myself to nod.

“It was a close call, Namjoon. Too close. I didn’t expect that. And I was fucking unprepared. I shouldn’t have let him stay there while I examined the girl.”

He smiled at me. “It’s not your fault. Nobody expected him to relapse so badly. It was just an unfortunate occurrence.”

I gazed as Jungkook’s hand hanging limp from the stretcher as he was carried away. My stomach twisted in apprehension.

“I’ll call you as soon as I have news, okay?” he patted my shoulder and then he left the room, leaving me in the awful silence, with guilt as my only company.

Chapter Text

Jimin’s POV

I wandered around for a bit, trying to process what had just happened. I made myself a cup of tea and tried to relax. When the haziness in my mind finally cleared, I called Jungkook’s psychologist. He was Yoongi, another one of our old school friends.

We were lucky enough to all end up in the medical field, being able to help Jungkook this way. Or maybe that was the actual reason for our career choice. After seeing Jungkook letting himself die for so long, purposefully destroying his body in every way possible, we wanted him to be happy, to have a “normal” life.

I took out my phone and dialled Yoongi’s number.

“Hey Jimin, how are you?”

“I’m fine but- Jungkook isn’t,” I murmured.

“What’s wrong with him?” he anxiously asked, apprehension showing through his voice.

“He had a bad relapse, hyung, and will need the help of everyone. We have just discovered that one of his most beloved students is probably anorexic, and he didn’t take it well at all. Namjoon has come to bring him to the hospital after he had a seizure… It’s bad, hyung.”                            I tried to explain everything clearly, although I still hadn’t regained my composure, and my voice quivered as I spoke. I heard a deep sigh coming from the other side of the phone.

“Listen, I know how busy you are, you are always full of appointments and stuff, but could you manage to visit Jungkook in these days?” I pleaded.

“Hyung, please, it’s really really bad, I swear. I don’t want him to go back to overdosing on pain meds and alcohol.”

Yoongi sighed. “Okay, I’ll try to pay him a visit tomorrow.”

Relief bloomed in my heart.

“Thanks, hyung…”

“Also, don’t let that student go down that horrible path. Please take care of her and help her recover. If it’s too serious bring her to me: I’ll see what I can do, but I think it’s best if you try to help her for now since she might be a little more familiar with you than me.” Yoongi added.

“Yeah, okay.”

He was about to hang up when he hesitated. “Jimin… are you okay?” He asked.

“Yeah, I’m just a bit shook, but I’m fine.”

“Okay… remember we’re all here if you need us, hmm?”

“Yeah, thanks hyung, bye…”

I remembered the girl was still in the other room. After Yoongi’s reminder, I went to check on her. She was waking up, still a bit dazed probably.

“Hello, had a nice nap?”

She nodded.

“Good. Let me examine you once more, hmm?” Her heart rate was normal now, and everything seemed fine.

“Excuse me… but where has Mr. Jeon gone?”

I tensed up at the sudden question. “Oh… Jungkookie…” I had to come up with something. I didn’t want to reveal his condition this easily without his consent. Plus, knowing he was suffering because of her wouldn’t have helped to recover, not now at least. We didn’t need guilt on top of all the other things she told to herself.

“He… had to go away. There was a problem with his family in Busan… I think he won’t come to school for a couple of days at least.”

“Oh.” She said and nodded. “I’m sorry to have caused so many troubles… Mr. Jeon probably had other things to think about, and I was a burden.”

I sighed. Was this girl going to bash herself for anything that happened?

I gave her a sweet smile. “Please, stop being so harsh on yourself. That’s the first step towards recovery.”

At the mention of recovery, her eyes darkened.

“Hey. Listen to me,” I sat on a tiny stool next to the bed, looking straight in her eyes. “We have to get you out of this, okay? We can’t allow you to mistreat yourself so badly. You realize it’s bad, right?”

She slowly nodded.

“Good. So, now I’ll tell you what we’ll do. You don’t usually have lunch, do you?”

She shook her head, biting her lip in embarrassment.

“Then you’ll come in here, in that room over there, and will have lunch with me. I cook really well, trust me. I know how hard it will be at first, a close friend of mine went through it too. Everything will scare you. Your mind will tell you that you will gain weight and will try to persuade you not to touch the food. But trust me, you have to try. Try until you understand there’s nothing wrong with eating the right portions in the right way. I know… it could be a little embarrassing at first but bear with me. Just… think of me as a bigger brother, okay? I just want to help you”

She nodded, a weak smile appearing on her face.

“I won’t ask you to eat three full meals a day for now, that would be unrealistic. Let’s start with small steps, okay?”

“Okay… I’m sorry for all this,” she murmured.

I patted her head. “Hey, I already told you, you don’t have to be sorry to anyone but yourself. It can happen, school and life are stressful, and when you live already without your parents at this young age, it’s normal to have some issues. Look at me, I was a mess when I was your age. If it weren’t for my friends, I don’t know where I would be.”

She smiled.

“I’ll give you one more job. You like writing, don’t you?” She nodded, a slight flush tainting her cheeks.

“Then every day you feel stressed out, or you have doubts, or you don’t want to eat, write down your feelings. Every single thing. Write them as if you were having a proper conversation with me: Don’t just write your part, write mine too. I assure you it will help you enormously. Your mind will have to come up with answers and objections to your questions and opinions, and it will help you to realize how unnecessarily harsh you’ve been with yourself, hmm?”

She wasn’t quite convinced.

“I know it sounds weird to write a dialogue on your own, but I swear it works. That’s because, whether you believe it or not, you’re the one who can give you the best objections and answers. Deep down, you know what’s right and wrong. Moreover, you know yourself best. You know how you feel and your story. This will be really useful, I’ve tried it before, and it’s really fun too. Besides, you’re good at writing, so I feel like it won’t be that hard.”

Finally, she assured me she would give it a try.

Shortly after a knock was heard, and a group of girls who I supposed must be her friends barged into the room, crowding around her.

“How are you? Hey Yin, you scared us!”

“S-sorry… I’m fine now…”

“I think it’s best if she skips classes and rests tomorrow, we don’t want her collapsing again.” I said.

They were relieved to see she was awake and looked much better.

“Okay, one of you will have to push her around on a wheelchair for today, I won’t allow her to walk until tomorrow, understood? Even if she might be stubborn, don’t let her walk. Not even a step.”

One of her friends nodded, as I helped Yin to sit onto the wheelchair. They were leaving when I asked one of her friends to stay in for a second. She looked a bit confused but listened to me anyway.

“Do you know what’s actually going on with Yin? Has she ever told you?”

She shook her head.

It broke my heart to have to tell her about this, but I needed an ally to check on her.

“Okay… she’s indulging in anorexic behaviours, and that’s extremely dangerous. She’s getting herself into something she won’t be able to get out of if we don’t help her, alright? Luckily, we have discovered it in time, and I’ll do everything I can to help her feel better. But I’ll need some collaboration.”

I gave her some time to take in the shocking news.

“What do I have to do?” she asked.

“I know that might seem strange, but please, don’t force her to eat any food. Don’t even mention the topic around her: the last thing a person with these kind of problems needs is to be embarrassed in front of her friends and feel like she’s being babysat and constantly checked on. I’ll make sure she eats at least one full meal a day, so please don’t force her to eat anything, or she’ll start hiding and maybe even get into bulimia, which is eating the food and then throwing it up. We don’t want her to get worse, okay?”

The girl nodded.

“Just be supportive and try to cheer her up but leave her some time to be alone and reflect. She looks like an introvert type, so taking away her privacy could break her and lead her to worse habits, like self-harm. I know it’s hard to know about these things and not to intervene, but the best thing you all can do right now is give her time and space to get better.”

She was a bit shook, but she seemed to understand.

“I’m not saying you shouldn’t check on her, though. If she seems too weak or if you think there’s something wrong, don’t hesitate to contact me. Here”

I scribbled my number on a sticky note and handed it to her.

“Here’s my work number, you can call me here if you need help. I have my work phone next to me at all times, so don’t hesitate to call me even if it’s early in the morning or super late in the middle of the night, okay?”

“Okay, I’ll do as you said. But you will help her, right? “

I nodded, smiling warmly. “Of course. I’ll make everything possible to make her feel better. I’ll come to her dorm tomorrow to check on her. So, could you please tell me the room number?”

“Oh, yeah. It’s 564, building c.”

“Thanks. I’m sorry to invade your dorm like that, but I think it’s best if she doesn’t move around too much. She needs to put all her energies in getting better.”

“Yeah sure, no problem. Thank you for everything. Then… I better get going. Bye…”

“Bye.”

She quietly left the room.

I didn’t want to go home. I took a taxi to the hospital Jungkook was in. I knew how much support he needed; I had to be close to him.

-----------------------

I followed the nurse’s instructions and found myself in front of a white, anonymous door. The only thing that proved Jungkook was in there was the tiny metal tag secured on the wall with old screws. There, in black characters stood the room number, and under it, Jungkook’s name scribbled with a marker.

Opening the door, memories flooded my heart; how many times would I have to smell the aseptic odour of those rooms? How many times would I have to hear the beeping sounds of the machines and monitors?

I remembered the countless nights spent there, dozing off on an uncomfortable chair, staying by Jungkook’s side. All those sunrises invading the room as sleep finally overtook me, all the sunsets filled with my pleas, pleas for the familiar numbness of despair to overtake me. Days, months, all of it was now a confused blur of gloomy misery.

Eventually, I mustered up enough courage to set foot into the sadly familiar room, forcing my memories back into the deepest pits of my soul. And there he was, Jungkook, laying limply on the bed, asleep. He still looked like the little boy of 8 years ago.

And still, 8 years from that day he still suffered. He suffered so bad he had to be hospitalized again.

I sighed, passing a hand on his forehead, finally relaxed. His skin was extremely pale, dark circles under his eyes. I laid my head down next to him, closing my eyes.

Things were going well; he was finally getting better before all this happened. It had been months since he’d needed anxiety suppressants; he was smiling every time I saw him, and I had hoped he was finally going to get over his trauma.

But I probably expected too much from this poor kid. That kind of trauma never heals fully, I had always known that. But deep inside, maybe I hoped for it to be different, just for him. Maybe he would get over it, I repeated over and over. But that cut was too deep to ever heal. Him and his brother were really close.

It was only when his brother Junghyun died that it was clear to everyone how devastating it would be for him. When he desperately screamed, in agony, trembling as he pleaded to God to give his brother back.

When Junghyun’s life finally withered away, it was then that Jungkook experienced the most painful thing he had ever had to face in his life. In the blink of an eye, nothingness came.

He whimpered and contorted as his brother’s soul teared from his own, disappearing into darkness. The void gnawed his soul until it was left forever damaged and scarred. It was the deafening silence of Junghyun’s absence that left him broken.

-----------------------------

A knock was heard on the door. I turned just to see Namjoon gesturing to me to come out of the room to talk.

“How is he?” I asked, wiping the tears that had inevitably escaped my eyes.

“He’s stable. It seems your reaction was quick enough, thankfully. He didn’t suffer any damage, but we’ll keep him in this sleeping state at least until tomorrow so that he can fully recover. We have to provide him psychological support though, or he’ll relapse into it all over again.”

I nodded. “Yoongi hyung said he’ll probably pay him a visit during these days.”

“Okay, good. And what about the girl?”

“She’ll be fine, I think. She was able to speak to me and all, I don’t think she needs to be hospitalized. She lives on campus anyway, so I can keep an eye on her.” Namjoon hugged me tightly.

“Thank you Jimin. I cannot even process how much you did for Jungkook and others during these years. I don’t think we’ll able to ever pay you back enough…” I shook my head, smiling at him.

“We’re a team, hyung, we all did our part. And let’s hope our efforts will make him feel better in the end.”

I was about to walk back to Jungkook when Namjoon stopped me, putting a hand on my shoulder.

“Jimin… he won’t be awake until tomorrow evening anyway… Go sleep, hmm? He’ll be fine, we’ll keep an eye on him for you. Don’t overwork yourself. That student will need your support and later Jungkook will need it too. Rest a bit…”

I hesitated, glancing at Jungkook, and then back at Namjoon’s reassuring smile. I sighed and reluctantly left the room.

“Call me if you have any news, please…”

he nodded, patting my shoulder.

“And you also need to rest, okay?”

“I’ll do my best to sleep a bit too, Jiminie.”

He smiled and after a last hug we departed from each other.

The long car ride through the city was quiet, the only sounds were the traffic noises. I had always enjoyed driving at night, as there was a special vibe in the air when the only lights were the ones of the big skyscrapers and of the cars.

I usually would take this time for myself, reflecting on my life and what had happened during these years, thinking about everything. But this time I was speechless. I couldn’t come up with anything to distract me from this day’s events. It was like my brain had run out of thoughts. The sound of the cars helped me not to go insane in that piercing silence.

When I got to the campus, I listlessly walked up the stairs and got into my apartment. I dropped the car keys on the table and flopped down on the sofa without even changing into something more comfortable. Again, the silence in the room was making me go insane.

I turned the tv on, trying to distract myself. I didn’t really watch the program there was on tv, but at least I wasn’t in complete silence. I stood there, looking at the tv rather than watching it, until a heavy drowsiness slowly descended upon my eyelids, and I drifted into an uneasy sleep.

Chapter Text

Jimin’s POV

I woke up to the dull sound of the tv, still turned on. My eyes fell onto the program, in which people talked about “incredible” encounters with talking animals. What kind of shitshow was this? I turned off the tv and looked at the clock: 5 am. There was no way I would have been able to get any more sleep now.

I took a long, steaming shower to distress my tensed nerves and changed into clean clothes. The smell of freshly washed fabric always helped me calm down and regain my usual composure. But not this time. Despite all my efforts, I was still tense and jittery, biting my bottom lip as my leg nervously bounced up and down. How was I supposed to calm Yin down when I couldn’t even control my own emotions? To avoid going crazy, I decided I would try not to think about Jungkook.

Worry was driving me absolutely crazy and thinking about him was pretty useless anyway; he was asleep, and I couldn’t do anything for him at the moment. I needed to put my mind to work in another area, trying to help Yin out of the dangerous habits she was indulging into. I looked up a couple of recipes, and I tried to come up with something simple but nutritious, so that her body wouldn’t reject it.

I decided to go for a light soup and some vegetables. Nothing ambitious, but I reckoned it would be enough for her. I wasn’t worried about the taste itself, as I had always been quite an excellent cook. I got everything that I needed and started boiling the vegetables, unconsciously humming melodies I used to sing with my friends and Jungkook when we were youthful and enthusiastic. Those delightful songs we would fantasize of performing on a big stage, in front of interminable crowds, before our life crumbled to bits.

We would rehearse every day, over and over again, on the rooftop of my house in Busan, as we stared at the sun sinking in the golden ocean. Those distant memories still felt so vivid in my mind: the taste of the freedom of youth, of having your whole life in front of you, the stench of the delicious, deep-fried dumplings we ate in Jungkook’s father’s restaurant, the pungent smell of the sea. But whenever I tried to reach out and grab that remote past, it would dissolve into thin air, dragging me back to my desolate apartment.

I backed away from the stove, tears ceaselessly streaming down my cheeks as the memories came back to pierce my heart until I had no strength to carry on. I let myself languish on the floor, merciless tears draining the life out of my body, trembling, and desperately pleading for the much-desired forgetfulness to come and claim me. Why couldn’t I just forget? Wasn’t it possible to just erase that chapter of my life? It was agonizing to see the future we could have had, to see the lives we weren’t able to live, Junghyun, me, Jungkook, Yoongi, Namjoon, Hoseok, Seokjin, and Tae. We were all so young at that time, Junghyun was too young. We shouldn’t have faced death so early in our lives. We all were scarred by the desolation, the despair that death carried with itself, all forced to grow up before others.

We all tried to go on with our lives, all except Jungkook. He was the youngest, and the closest to his brother too. We were 7 in total. A wonderful group of friends: we would always go out and have fun, taking Jungkook’s little brother with us, fantasizing of becoming a group, singing and dancing together, dreaming of changing the world.

This until Junghyun… fell ill. He never recovered. He stopped eating and no matter how hard we tried, we couldn’t help him in any way. When he died, we were all crushed. Jungkook was devastated, he suffered severe consequences, such as panic attacks, depression, seizures and many more. We all tried to help him, though we also had to cope with our own grief.

For a whole year, we desperately tried to keep Jungkook’s life from falling apart, although he had no will to live anymore. We worked so hard, burying our own sorrows deep down to be able to help him; but as the time went on, we started to fight. Our friendship had turned into a thin rope, frail and ready to break. We pulled and pulled, until it irremediably snapped.

Everything came crumbling down. Seokjin left and went to study abroad. Hoseok… he moved in with his girlfriend in Gwangju and never came back, not even to say hi. I saw his dance performances on the internet once in a while. Maybe he was happy now. And Tae… Tae never spoke to me again after that night. After a bad fight, I told him to leave, and he did; he never came back. Without a single word, he just disappeared.

Me, Namjoon, and Yoongi managed to stay united, although our friendship was never the same after that year. We tirelessly worked to keep Jungkook out of trouble, sacrificing our dreams to see a single smile appearing on the poor boy's lips. After ending up in rehab multiple times due to overdoses and alcoholism, Jungkook finally managed to graduate, and became a talented literature teacher. If we couldn’t be happy together, at least we hoped for Jungkook to stay happy and slowly heal; he deserved it the most.

But now, everything had crumbled all over again. For all these years we had been building a house of cards. Everything was destined to fail since the very day we turned our backs on each other and decided to silence the past, to forget everything, to cover up our unresolved issues. With Jungkook’s happiness faltering again, like a tiny, wavering flame about to die out, I questioned my whole existence. I had spent all my life to assure he was happy. If he wasn’t, what had I been living for? For what had we all given up our dreams? But as despair creeped into my heart, a sudden realization came to me: not all was lost. I could at least help another person, a girl who was getting caught in a dangerous illness. I could prevent this hell from happening all over again. I had to.

Wiping my tears, I finished preparing the food. I packed everything up in thermic containers and walked out of my apartment, ready to go to work. Until I remembered… I wouldn’t be going to the infirmary, but rather to Yin’s dorm. Still, it was way too early to go there. 

I walked around the dormant campus, the feeble light of sunrise illuminating the dim buildings. I sighed, taking in all the air I could manage. There was a fresh, delicate scent of blooming flowers. The spring breeze danced through the silent buildings, leaves passing by, reminiscing of the autumn. Early spring was always like this: a period of uncertainty, in which you’re not sure in which direction you’re going; is it the winter that’s coming, or summer? Is it night or day? Life or death?

The mist dissipated, melting away the last hints of the previous darkness and its magic. Tiny droplets on the grass were the only memory of the night drizzle that seemed to have washed away all the mourning and suffering. I sheltered my eyes with my arm, the sun shining directly on my face. It was a beautiful morning. Slowly, the campus came back to life; students and teachers bustling about, too immersed in their frenzy to even notice the beauty of the nature around them. Maybe they didn’t realize the value of life. Only the people who have seen death can truly know the relief of being alive.

Or maybe not.

Jungkook surely didn’t want that tremendous nature’s gift that people call life. What was it anyway? What was the difference between living and dying? Did it really matter in the end? It just seemed ridiculous to him; what was the point in living even a day more, if what he was destined to was endless suffering? I myself wasn’t new to this kind of feeling: regret, hatred, refusal. Countless times I had wished for numbness to come and wash away my pain; and what was the biggest oblivion, the one that lasted in eternity? Death. 

But still, recently, as Jungkook had started to smile, I had changed my perspective. Rather than “Another day and maybe I’ll be able to die and finally rest,” I started thinking “If I can see Jungkook smiling even just one more time, I want to live more.”

I walked and walked, finally relaxing my distressed muscles. Without even noticing, I found myself in front of the building c.

------------------------

The students curiously stared at me as I strolled down the alleys searching for the room. 564, 564… there it was. I knocked on the door. Steps, girls’ voices, and then the door opened. The same girl I had talked to the day before welcomed me, fully dressed and ready to go. She seemed to be in a rush.

“Oh, hello Mr. Park, come in”

I nodded, and walked in. The dorm was small, but big enough for two students, I reckoned. The kitchen was a mess, but apart from that everything seemed nice and tidy. I wondered if they had made a last effort to make the dorm look presentable before I came in. The girl pointed at a door.

“That’s Yin’s room, she’s inside. I have to go to my classes now.”

“Sure, thank you.”

“Then… I’ll get going…” the girl excused herself and quickly left, slamming the door behind her. I walked up to the door the girl had pointed at before. It had pictures on it. I looked at what seemed to be old pictures of Yin and her friends. I noticed she had a perfect healthy body, although it wasn’t the usual skinny type you see as the standard. But still, she had defined herself as chubby, and that didn’t seem the case to me. I noticed the big smile on her lips. She seemed truly happy. However, I knew better than trusting smiles so easily. I could see it in her eyes, the self-criticism and unspoken sadness. Just for how long had she been tormenting herself this way?

I tentatively knocked on the door. “Hello, are you awake? It’s Park Jimin, the nurse from yesterday… remember?”

“C-come in…” a shy voice answered from inside. Slowly, I opened the door. The girl was sitting on a large bed, baggy clothes concealing her figure. Her gaunt face was pale, her lips almost purple. She was in an alarming state. It’s not like I was expecting her to look super healthy or something, but still, I had to do something to make her feel at least a bit better.

“Hello there, Yin. How are you doing?”

“U-uhm hello Mr. Park..”

“You can call me Jimin-ssi if you want” I replied, smiling.

“Okay.”

She wasn’t really talkative. “So, how are you feeling?”

“As usual, g-good…”

“Really?” I raised an eyebrow. She didn’t look like she was feeling good. I sat down next to her, putting down my bags. “Listen sweetheart… maybe you got used to feeling weak and tired; because you don’t really look like you’re fine to be honest.” She bit her lip, looking down. “I-I’m not saying you’re lying though.” I quickly corrected myself. “You know, the human body is amazing: if you put enough work into it, your body can adapt and learn to recognize pain as something normal, something to ignore. Have you ever considered something like this could happen?” Her eyes shot up, a spark of genuine curiosity in them. She shook her head. I smiled as I prepared my instruments to take her blood pressure.

“A-and… how do you unlearn that?” I looked at her, surprised that she was starting to collaborate.

“I meant- the body adapting thing. How do you rewind that?”

I smiled. “By feeling good.”

She gazed at me, trying to understand, her eyebrows furrowed.

“The first times you’ll feel bad even though you should be feeling good; but once the body remembers what it felt like to be okay, you’ll be able to recognize when you’re feeling bad too.” I explained while taking her blood pressure. “Yep. It’s definitely too low. You’re shivering and your blood pressure isn’t good at all.”

“How bad?” she murmured.

“Bad enough that if you had to spend another day at school, walking around the hallways you would end up collapsing like you did yesterday.”

“Oh.” Was her only response.

“Let’s warm you up a bit, hmm? Do you like ginseng?” she nodded. I took out a thermos and poured her a warm mug of ginseng coffee. After pouring one for myself too, I handed her the steaming mug. “Here. I’ll bring you more tomorrow. This will help you get by until you go back to normal eating.” Sipping my coffee, I observed her as I mentioned the food topic. “…You’re not really excited at the thought of eating regularly again, are you?”

 Staring down at her cup, she nodded.

“Can you explain me your thought process with that?”

“I… I think” she nervously took a sip, eyes wandering far into an indefinite void. “What if I overeat? And then I gain all the weight back. Once I’ll start to eat again, I won’t be able to stop, I’m sure. Then I’ll go back to being the overweight child I’ve been for my whole life, and I don’t want that and-” She bit her lip, regret painted all over her face. Wow. She went from barely uttering a word to fully talking in a matter of seconds. It sounded like she had a ton more things to say, but for some reason she stopped.

“Why are you holding back?” She gave me a questioning look. “You’re upset, I can see that. But why? Do you feel like you talked too much?” The girl bit her lip again, a light shade of pink tainting her cheeks. Thanks to the coffee her lips had started to gain back their usual rosy tint.

“I’m sorry…” she murmured, barely audible. “I always end up annoying people with too many things about myself, so I usually prefer not to talk to avoid that…”

“Who told you that?”

The girl bit her lip.

“Listen, even though you might feel like you don’t want to bother people with your problems, remember that I’m here just to listen to your doubts and to help you solve them. The more I know, the more I’ll be able to help you.”

“R-really? Can I really tell you- I mean- Are you okay with me blurting out everything that I have on my mind?”

I nodded. “Yeah. That’s what I’m here for.”

“Thank you…”

I continued checking her vitals as we talked. “You know, Jungkookie- I mean Mr Jeon, he is a great friend of mine. He told me you write beautifully and that you’re his best student. Do you like writing because you can express yourself through that?” She nodded. As she spoke her eyes lit up, filled with a new-found joy.

“It’s like having a best friend. I mean, I don’t really feel comfortable enough to tell everything to my best friends, so I feel like the pen and papers are my true go-to person. You know, something like that.”

“And… You write personal stuff when you write essays for my friend’s classes, right?” She nodded. “Don’t you feel embarrassed about that? You told me that you feel like you annoy people when you open up about yourself, so why is it that you can do it with him? I mean, he’s grateful that you speak from your heart, I can assure you he isn’t annoyed by that”

She smiled. “I don’t know. It’s just- since the first time I’ve seen him, I felt like I could trust him. He looks like a great person and the sparkle in his eyes whenever he talks about literature amazes me. It was something immediate with him. As he entered the classroom for the first time, I thought: that’s surely an amazing person, that’s someone I can trust.”

My heart bloomed in warmth as she described Jungkookie. After all he had gone through, he still was a beautiful person, and everyone could see that. In a garden full of flowers, the most beautiful and breath-taking ones are the delicate sprouts that grow amidst thorns. They grow and get thicker, they bloom and sprout new leaves from every wound, until they are so strong nobody can hurt them anymore. Jungkook was still growing, but I was sure he would become the most beautiful person to ever have born. His sensitive nature had to be there for a reason. All his suffering had to have a meaning. And I was lucky enough to meet someone who reminded to me what a beautiful person Jungkook was and was going to become right when I had started thinking that all his efforts had been meaningless. I never thought I could learn something from this girl. But suddenly, the one I was supposed to help was giving me back my hope, and my happiness.

“Still… sometimes I think I’ve caught a glint of sadness in his eyes. But it couldn’t be something futile. It seemed something rooted deeply inside him, in a past far, far away. And to me, that’s what made him more precious. He can smile and live on despite he has obviously suffered much in the past and still does. That’s a rare thing. And also, I believe only people who have suffered can understand another human being’s pain. So, I felt like I could tell him everything, I felt listened to, and that had never happened to me before.” With that, I was remembered of Jungkook’s situation and how he was still probably asleep and sedated now. I bit my lip as my mind travelled to him, and to his sadness that was visible even to his student.

“I-I’m sorry…” the girl murmured, bringing me back down to earth. I looked at her in confusion. “It’s not right for me to invade his privacy like that… and also your privacy, since you seem to be close friends. I’m sorry for making these stupid assumptions”

“Ah… don’t worry about it. It’s just… he has gone through some pretty hard stuff, but yeah, don’t worry about it. You did nothing wrong, really.”

She smiled. “T-thank you for letting me open up with you, it really means a lot to me.”

“You’re welcome,” I said as finished examining her. “As I told you, the more I know about you, the more I can help you. And I have also to thank you for opening up with Jungkookie too…” “Okay, now lay in bed as I prepare lunch. Can I use the stove in the kitchen?”

“U-uhm yeah, sure, but… sorry, it’s a complete mess. I wanted to clean it yesterday, but my friend Maya didn’t let me even get up.”

“Then that’s my fault” I replied, chuckling. “I’ve told her to not let you walk, so don’t worry about the kitchen…” I cleaned the kitchen for a bit, and then started warming up the soup and the other things I had prepared. At one point I glanced at the door and saw Yin standing there, leaning on the wall. “W- I told you to stay in bed…” I murmured, glancing at her trembling legs.

“I’m sorry… I wanted to help a bit. You’re cooking in an unfamiliar kitchen; I figured you could struggle in finding what you needed…” She avoided my gaze, eyes glued to the floor.

“Fine…” I sighed in defeat. “But be careful, hmm?”                                         

She nodded. “I’ll set the table.” She walked around carrying things for a while, but then, as she was reaching for the plates on the rack next to me, she stopped, gripping the sink, eyes wide. I immediately stopped what I was doing to look at her.

“Hey. Are you ok?” she looked paler than usual.

“Uhm… don’t know. I think I’m dizzy” Gently, I wrapped my arms around her waist to support her. Her previously tense muscles relaxed a bit as she felt protected by my body. Slowly, I guided her towards the sofa. She sat down with a thud, and I helped her lay down.

“Take deep breaths. Close your eyes and breathe. It’ll pass, hmm?” I held her hand for a while, as I sensed her terror. “Calm down, you won’t collapse again. I’m here with you. There’s no deed to be scared.” Gradually, some colour came back to her pale cheeks.

“You weren’t kidding when you said my blood pressure was really low…” she murmured.

“Why would I lie about something like that?” I chuckled.

“I don’t know, I felt fine laying down before, so I thought maybe it wasn’t that bad… I’m sorry… I’m causing problems all over again” She bit her lip, guilt painted all over her face.

“It’s okay sweetheart, don’t be so harsh on yourself. It’s easy to overestimate ourselves, it happens. Now just lay here and don’t get up, hmm? I think the soup is ready, I’ll be back very soon.” After putting the bowls on the table, I helped her sit on the chair. She stared at the steaming bowl in front of her. After much hesitation, she picked up her spoon, her hand trembling. “Take your time. There’s no need to rush, okay?”

“I’m sorry… I-it’s not the smell, or the taste… I bet it tastes phenomenal but-” she bit her lip.

“Don’t hold back. What are you thinking of?”

“I’m tired of it!” She suddenly yelled, hiding her face in her hands. “I’m tired of it all! Too fat, too skinny, eating too much or too little! Whatever I do it won’t be enough! I just want for it all to be over and die already!” Her chest rose erratically as she trembled and quivered. She burst out in desperate sobs. I crouched down next to her, rubbing soothing circles on her back. I weakly smiled. No matter what I do it won’t be enough. I want the numbness to take me. I was looking into a mirror of myself. How many times did I yell those words, how many nights did I suffer in the same way.

“You know, we’re all the same. Those words you said, I’ve said them too, countless times. I know how you feel. I know what desperation feels like. But you aren’t alone in this. There’s no place for those words when you can rely on someone. And even if you feel like you don’t have anybody, at least I’m here for you, okay?” I wiped the tears from her cheeks. “I know it can be frustrating, but you’ll overcome all this, alright?”

She nodded.

“Why don’t you try once again? It might be hard, but I’ve prepared you something very light.” Slowly, she took the spoon and started eating. Trying not to put too much stress on her, I sat back to my place and ate too. 

“I’m sorry Mr. Par- uh… Jiminssi… I don’t think I can eat any more of that. But it tasted delicious.”

I smiled at her. “That’s good enough, you don’t have to force yourself more than that. You did great”

I took her back to the bed and cleaned everything up. Then I went back to her. “I’ve brought some fruit for you. Do you like grapes?”

Yin nodded. “Just eat some of it if you feel too weak. I’ll be back tomorrow to have lunch with you. If you’ll be well enough I’ll let you resume your classes, but only if you come to my nursery for lunch so that I can check on you.”

She nodded. “Thank you, Jiminssi, I’m really grateful for everything you’re doing for me”

“You’re welcome… then… I’ll get going. See you tomorrow”

“Bye…”

Chapter Text

Jungkook’s POV

The familiar beeping.

Slowly, it insinuated into my dreams, until it was too vivid to ignore. I reluctantly opened my eyes to a dull white ceiling. Where was I? Turning my head, I noticed the machines attached to me; the monitor producing the sound that had woken me up.

Ah, here again.

I sat up, trying to recall everything that had happened. An intense headache was pounding in my skull, painfully amplifying every sound that came to me. As I scanned my hazy mind for answers, a figure appeared on the door: Namjoon hyung.

“Hello Kook, how are we feeling?” I only shrugged in response, as he forced me to lie down again. “Don't sit up yet, you need rest. Any symptoms I should know about?”

“Headache” I murmured, my voice coming out groggier than expected. Namjoon nodded, writing everything down on a piece of paper with my name on it. He started checking the data from the monitors, then moved onto thoroughly examining me. After the routine check-up, he sat down on a small stool next to my bed.

Namjoon’s visits always brought me a bit of joy. He was one of my childhood friends after all. Not this time, though.

“Did you put me on some kind of emotion suppressant shit?” I murmured, biting my lip.

“You know Jungkook, we’re just trying to avoid you relapsing all over again. I hate to give you that kind of meds, but I didn’t really have a choice…”

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose in an attempt to ease the pain that was growing exponentially in my head. “I don’t care. I hate feeling so numb again. Without them I was happy for once, and now I can’t feel shit.”

Silence filled the room, as he stroked my hand. I knew my comments came off as rude and cold, but I couldn’t do anything about it; it was the meds after all.

“Yesterday you had a seizure after something triggered you. Jimin luckily intervened before you could hurt yourself.” Namjoon suddenly blurted out.

With this new information, I started connecting the dots in my mind, somewhat recalling what had gone down before my blackout. I bit my lip as I remembered that “something” that had triggered was Yin, my student, who we had just discovered was anorexic. It made me feel disgusted the way I couldn't feel the usual affection, nor sorrow for her. I was used to these meds, having received them as a treatment for most of my life after what had happened. But I hated them. They robbed me of the only thing that what was left of me.

“Yoongi will visit you later today.” Namjoon interrupted my train of thoughts.

“Will I have sobered up from these drugs by then?” I spat.

A bit startled by my question, he hesitantly looked at me. “...Yes, but are you sure you want that?”

“If I have to do therapy or whatever Yoongi has in mind this time, wouldn't it be useless if I couldn't feel anything? What are we supposed to do? Build a house of cards to distract my mind from my problems?”

Namjoon nodded at what I had said, but still insisted, tightly holding my hand. “But what if you collapse again? It was a close call with Jimin yesterday.”

Ah, that's right, Jimin. Poor hyung, he had to handle all of this by himself, he must be tired. I wouldn't be surprised if Namjoon had even lied to him about the time I was going to wake up. That would have explained why he still hadn't come running in through the door.

“But Jimin surely didn’t expect it and took some time to react.” I continued. “I’m in the best hospital in Seoul: I’m sure your staff will handle it. I know it is a pain, but I don’t want to be on meds forever. Not again.”

Namjoon sighed. “Fine, but you will have a nurse in the room to check on you.”

“Whatever…”

 He looked at me in pity. But not seeing anything but emptiness in my eyes, he got up. “Alright, I think it’s best if I leave you alone for a while. Try to get some more sleep, okay?”

Namjoon then left to tend to his work. He was always busy, directing a hospital wasn’t obviously easy, and he did as much as possible for everyone, visiting patients daily, although he had an entire staff for that. He always made time for everyone, and everyone held him in high consideration. An exemplary boss, a caring doctor, a perfect human being.

But deep inside, was he happy? Always busy, not knowing what sleeping meant, carrying enormous responsibilities on his shoulders. I kept wondering if he just found a way to drown himself, to stay away from his thoughts, restlessly working until he didn’t even know who he was anymore.

But who was I to judge? Wasn’t it the same with me? Abusing pain meds and alcohol trying to lose myself, hurting myself to the point of almost dying.

As the hours passed, the drug started to wear off. I soon realized I had acted like an asshole to Namjoon. Wanting to make up for it, I called him on the phone.  

“Jungkookie? What’s the matter?”

“Hyung… are you busy right now?”

“No, I’m on a break, tell me. Do you need something?”

“Hyung, I wanted to apologize.”

“For what?” he asked.

“I mean, I behaved like a total asshole before, I’m extremely sorry. That’s why I hate those meds. It’s not who I am. Not only do they make me feel empty, but they also make me behave like that. I didn’t mean to be so rude.”

“Oh, it’s that. Don’t worry about it, Kook. I’m aware of the effects of those meds; I know you didn’t mean it.”

“But still, thanks hyung. You took me in your hospital, again, just to be treated like that by me. I feel like I’ll never stop ruining your lives.”

“Don’t say that, Kook. You’re like family to me, and this is my job. Helping people is what I love to do. It’s just natural for me to do everything I can for you. I’ve become a doctor knowing what I was getting into, and I don’t regret a single thing.”

A golden ray of light glimmered, flooding the room. Turning my head, I saw the sun slowly setting in a creamy bed of crimson clouds. It reminded me of my youth, of our happiness back then.

“Kook? You still there?”

“Hyung, don’t you ever think of our old dreams?”

“What?”

“<<I want to become an Idol… I want to reach the entire world with my music and help people.>>“ I murmured.

“That’s what you said that time on the rooftop, as we watched the sun sink into the ocean.”

“Jungkookie... do you really want to talk about this?”  

Yes, I wanted to. Was it bad? I couldn't understand. Why wouldn't I want to talk about such delightful times? Hesitantly, I continued.

“Aren’t you curious, hyung? What would our lives be like If we became Idols? Would it be better?” Namjoon took his time to reply.

“I don’t know, Jungkook. Maybe we just weren’t meant to be. I think I have given up that dream for a bigger one. Helping people directly like I do now is what makes me happy. Everything else doesn’t matter.”

Although he said so, I could definitely perceive the hint of sadness and nostalgia in his words. He was trying to convince himself that he was fine, wasn't he? That answer sounded awkward, practiced, too quick and rushed. How many times had he repeated all of this to himself, to the point he basically knew it by heart?

“My staff is already looking for me. I have to go. Yoongi will be there in 30 minutes.”

“Okay hyung… bye.”

The phone call came to its abrupt end. I was sure he still thought of his old dreams. He seemed so passionate back then, how could he have given up like that? It devastated me. Namjoon hyung, my inspiration, my role model, the older brother I had never had, the brother I had wished to be for Junghyun. When we met, I didn't have a dream. But his words that day on the rooftop, those promises of conquering the world with our fervour, it was him that had engraved those words on my heart. How could he forget? How could he give up and cover everything up?

I spent the afternoon trying to wrap my head around it, a weird uneasiness hovering over me as the emotional turmoil inside me kept growing. Bewilderment turned into disbelief, incredulity into disappointment, until everything eventually escalated into bitter anger.

I couldn’t stop thinking about my conversation with Namjoon. The more I thought about it, the more I grew frustrated; was it really okay to abandon everything we had dreamed of? We couldn’t go back in time, but was it okay to just erase that chapter of our life? All day, every day for the past eight years I numbed myself in every way possible. And what help was that? Not only my memories were still there, but I had also wasted half of my life in numbness.

I thought back to all the strategies and empty words we had used in the years to avoid that painful chapter of our lives.

What about Yin then? Was I supposed to erase her from my memory too? Would I have to forget everything, the good and the bad, just to keep walking on a razor’s edge a day more? What was the point? If that was all I could do, I might as well throw myself into the pit and spare me and everyone else the effort.

I was trying to piece my broken thoughts together, nervously biting on my bottom lip when I heard a knock on the door.

Yoongi walked into the room, together with a nurse. “Hello, Jungkook, how are you?” he gently asked.

“Mentally or physically?” I chuckled bitterly. I didn't want to be rude, but now that the meds effect had faded, I couldn’t hold myself back. All these sessions, all these meds, it was all useless.

“My field is psychology; for any physical discomfort she’s the person to go to: she’ll stay here during our session to ensure you’re okay.” Yoongi said calmly, ignoring my comment.

I bowed my head at the nurse who sat in the room's corner, ready to intervene when needed.

“Namjoon told me you refused to take the emotion suppressants.”

“I hate them.”

“You used to rely on them a lot, though.”

“Not anymore. They don’t do anything for me anyway.”

“But they would have prevented you from relapsing.”

“And would that have made a difference? My life with those things is as worthless as it has ever been.”

Yoongi eyed me.

“And how is it when you’re off them? You haven’t used them in a couple of months by now. How was it?”

“Better. I love teaching. It puts a smile on my lips when nothing else can.”

“But then… you relapsed because of something that happened at work, am I right?”

I glared at him.

“Why are you angry?”

“I’m not.”

“Then why are you clutching your bedsheets so tightly?” he asked.

I noticed I had unconsciously clenched my fists. I quickly hid my hands, clearing my throat. Yoongi sighed, looking through some papers.  

“What are you planning hyung?” I asked him as he stroked his chin.

“Me? Nothing. I was Just thinking.” He shrugged. “So… let me go over this once again.” He started, attentively eyeing me. “You saw something that triggered the memories of that thing and then you felt bad, right?” Yoongi casually murmured, heavily underlining the generic words I hated so much.

“She’s called Yin, not something” I muttered, my jaw tense with bitterness.

“What did you say?”

“Hyung, what the hell is this? Is this even therapy? It looks more like you’re avoiding the topic. Then why the hell are we here for?”

He shrugged. “How am I supposed to know what you’re comfortable and not comfortable with? The thing that triggered you once could do it again after all.”

“You want to know why I am angry at you right now? She’s called Yin! She’s not a thing, a trigger or another of the stupid terms you all always use! She has a name, a face, a heart, and she fucking saved me!” I yelled, heart beating fast, blood boiling in my veins. Yoongi’s eyes flickered with interest. He had brought me to my breaking point.

“I can’t believe this shit, this is so irritating” I chuckled bitterly, getting up and walking up and down the room, trying to control my anger. The alarmed nurse moved towards me to calm me down, but Yoongi immediately stopped her.

“Don’t. Let him speak.” The nurse backed away, confused. Yoongi crossed his legs, calm and composed. “Jungkook. Tell me then. What’s so irritating about this situation?”

“Everything, fuck! This fucking game you’re all playing is ridiculous! Giving up on our dreams and our memories, relegating to oblivion the promises we made to ourselves, covering up stuff and pretending everything’s okay! It’s not! All these medicines, all this lying! You never tell me anything, do you? All this not calling things with their names! The “thing” that triggered me has a name, and it’s Yin! And the memories of “that thing” are Junghyun, my brother that died eight years ago!”

I brushed my hair back, laughing in disbelief. Yoongi collectedly stared at me in silence, thoughts unreadable. I couldn’t get a hint of a single emotion from his expressionless face.

“Is it long enough for you all to forget?” I continued, unleashing all my frustrations. “Are you all willing to erase that entire chapter of our lives just because sad shit happened? Are you all willing to pretend like we didn’t lose our dreams there, that we didn’t lose our whole fucking childhood right there and then?! Because I’m not okay with that! Everyone acts like they should never mention the topic to me again because it makes me suffer! And it does! But isn’t it much worse when you try to pretend everything’s fine? Am I scared? Of course! My student is dying in front of my eyes because of the same illness that took half of my soul! But that doesn’t mean it’s okay to forget my childhood, nor her!”

I was starting to wobble, my legs shaking, voice quivering, tears filling my eyes.

“In this fucking cruel world, there's nothing worse than the empty feeling of apathy! Since the meds don’t solve shit, I’d rather suffer like a dog than feel numb!”

And with that, I fell to the ground, shaking, burning tears rolling down my cheeks. The nurse and Yoongi ran to me. As Yoongi lifted my chin up, I could finally see a glimmer of sadness and tender pity in his eyes. Gently, they lifted me up, and they helped me back until I was lying on the bed. The nurse was about to hook me up to an IV when I stopped her, grabbing her arm.

“W-what’s that?” I muttered in between ragged breaths.

“I-it’s to calm you down…”

“Then I don’t want it.” I harshly replied, as she stared at me in confusion.

“But-”

“I’ll get over it myself.” I hissed. The girl glanced at Yoongi, searching for answers. He nodded.

“Let him do what he wants. I’ll tell you if you have to intervene, thank you.”

Yoongi came close to me, holding my hand as I gasped for air, my vision already spotty, the exhaustion catching up on me.

“You did well Kook, now try to relax. Take deep breaths. I know how you feel, and I get it. All this covering up and not calling things with its name makes me angry too. I Just wanted you to be able to say it yourself.”

His words soothed my heart and calmed my mind. Yoongi kept clenching my hand as my breathing slowed down. I let my muscles relax, closed my eyes and rested for a bit, as Yoongi wiped the thin layer of sweat which had formed on my forehead.

“So, Jungkook. Now, tell me what happened.” Yoongi spoke, calling me back from the exhausted sleep I was already falling into, melting into the mattress. Reluctantly, I opened my eyes, Yoongi smiling to me.

“You must be tired, I’m sorry. But let’s get to the bottom of this before I let you rest.”

I sighed, sitting up with my back resting on the wall. I hesitantly glanced at the nurse who was leaning on the wall in the far corner of the room, discretely observing.

“Can you wait outside? Yoongi hyung will call you immediately if I need help. I’m sorry you had to see such a scene. I didn’t mean to treat you badly. Please forgive me for my behaviour”

The girl gave me a brief, comprehensive smile and quickly left the room. The door closed with a thump; a weight lifted from my chest now that nobody else was in the room. Now I felt like I could freely speak.

“So?” Yoongi encouraged me. I hesitantly looked at him, and when he squeezed my hand tight, I finally started speaking.

“Before, I was so angry because I had a conversation with Namjoon, and he seemed to… want to forget everything about our past. But that didn’t seem right to me. He told me he was happy now; he was totally fine. But his answers seemed so fake, so practiced… I hated that.” Yoongi nodded.

“I see… it seems like I’ll have to have a talk with him too one day.”

“Hyung…”

“Hmm?”

“Do… you think he’s really happy now? Is he really okay with giving up his dream with such ease, after the words he told us when we were young?”

Yoongi bit his lip. “You know Namjoon; I doubt he has given up on that dream. It’s possible he’s just keeping it in his heart, as we all are. But maybe that’s too painful for him to handle, and he’s hiding to avoid the topic.” His answer made me let out a breath I didn’t even know I had been holding in.

“Sometimes I wonder how the others are doing. You know… Jin hyung, Hobi hyung and Taehyungie hyung… I hope they’re living their best lives now.”

“I hope so…” Yoongi murmured. I could see a glint of sadness in his eyes. But then he stirred up, looking back at the papers on which he had scribbled stuff about me.

“Jungkook, do you mind telling me how you got into this situation? Do you remember anything before the anxiety attack?” I sighed, trying to find the courage to speak.

“Basically, one of my best students literally collapsed on me, and when I brought her in the infirmary, I discovered together with Jimin that she’s probably anorexic...”

Words were getting stuck in my throat, dry as a desert. Why was it so hard to say those things? I huffed in frustration, Yoongi hyung rubbing my back.

“Take your time Kook, it's okay.”

“... I’m still trying to get over it, but what made me really go crazy was her words. When she told me and Jimin what she thought of herself, it immediately reminded me of the way… Junghyun would talk. It made me feel sick, and the memories and all... it must have been too much to take in all at once. After that, my mind goes blank. I remember nothing that happened after that.”

Thick silence filled the room, my heart thumping being the only sound I could hear.

“And what are you planning to do?”

I raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you the one who should tell me that, hyung?”

Yoongi shook his head. “I can help you get it out, but the determination must come from you, or you won’t do it. So, after all you’ve said, what are you actually planning to do besides complaining?”

I blinked; I hadn’t thought about that. I hated these sessions. By the end of them, I always looked like an Idiot.

He raised an eyebrow, waiting for an answer.

“Well… my instincts would tell me to avoid her.” I shrugged.

“But we don’t follow instincts if we want to get better, do we?”

“…Right.” I bit my lower lip. I gave the worst answer possible. Yoongi must seriously think I’m dumb at this point, and he would have more than one reason to believe it.

“You yelled at me that you wanted to take the hard path, the right one, that you didn’t want to cover anything up.”

I nervously played with the hem of my shirt. Heck, had Yoongi planned all of this in advance? He set out the trap for me, and I walked right into it. There was no way I could deny it now that I had yelled all those things right up to his face.

“Are you going to take everything back like a coward? We even have a witness.” He murmured, pointing at the empty seat in the corner, the one on which the nurse had previously sat. “Don’t tell me you put up this rant just for fun,” he provoked me.

“No! That’s what I really think… but…” Damn. He was too good at this. I lowered my gaze, words reducing to an incomprehensible murmur.

Yoongi sighed, placing a hand on my shoulder. “I know it’s hard, Jungkook. I’m not asking you to do it all in one go; we don’t want you to have another crisis. Nevertheless, try to at least keep in mind that running away is not the way to go. You’ve done that enough in the past. That kind of behaviour is not an option anymore as you might have realised, especially when your student needs all the support she can get, both from you and Jimin.”

It all seemed like too big of a task for me to handle, and as terror started to seep in, I instinctively curled into a ball.

“Jungkook.” I looked up at Yoongi, who was staring directly at me. “Don’t think you’re the same, powerless child you were 8 years ago. For what do you think we’ve been working so hard? Your words and actions can now influence other people. Never forget that. Not only does that mean you have to be careful with her but also that you can and surely will be able to provide this girl with the support she needs.” I nodded.

“Okay, hyung… I’ll try…”

“Good. I’m sure Jimin will keep an eye on her too, so it should be fine. But please, take care of yourself Jungkookie.”

When he got from me the nod he was waiting for, he got up, collecting all his papers. “I’ll be going then… see you later”

“Thanks, hyung.”

With a comforting smile on his face, he walked out of the room. I was left alone once again, staring at the white ceiling in complete silence. Pretty soon exhaustion creeped on me, engulfing me into a much-needed sleep. 

Chapter Text

Jungkook’s POV

It was already late at night when I woke up, hearing rushed steps in the corridor. The door swung open, and there was Jimin standing, a panting mess, worry painted all over his face.

“Jungkook! You’re awake… I came as soon as they let me…” He huffed, sitting next to me with a thump. I rubbed my eyes, in an attempt to stir from the haziness of sleep. He tenderly ruffled my hair, massaging my neck as I sat up, trying to regain a bit of awareness of my surroundings.

“Did I wake you up? I’m sorry...”

I shook my head, smiling. “It’s okay. I’m happy you came. But hyung, why all this rush? There was no need to-”

“There’s no way in this world I wasn’t going to come visit you. Hell, you scared me to death yesterday...” He murmured playfully hitting my chest, his eyes glimmering with unshed tears. I stared at him in confusion, agitated by his sudden burst of emotions.

“Ow… I’m sorry hyung…” I murmured rubbing the place he had hit. I lowered my gaze, as Jimin drew shaky breaths. “Thank you… for saving me once again…”

He quickly wiped his puffy eyes, smiling, lips quivering as a sob escaped his lips. I took his face in my hands with the utmost care, as if he were made of fragile crystal. I wiped his tears away as he hid his face in his petite hands; a habit of his when crying.

“Are you okay? Hyung, did you sleep?”

“Sorry, yeah, I’m fine. It just… it’s been a while since I saw you like this. You can never get used to it, I guess…”

I squeezed his hand, not knowing what to say. I couldn’t blame him for crying when I was a nerve wreck myself. He quickly composed himself, blinking the last tears away. After brushing his hair back and taking a couple of deep breaths, he finally spoke.

“I’m just glad to see you’re okay.” He murmured, with a slight quiver still lingering in his voice.

Silence filled the room. I leaned my head back and closed my eyes. The darkness was less lonely than usual. I had missed Jimin. He was like a big brother to me, he never stopped trying to make me happy, even when I was purposefully destroying myself. I couldn’t help but feel guilty. Jimin had dedicated his whole life to me. What about him? Was he okay with it?  

“Have you talked with Yoongi hyung?” Jimin’s soft tone gently brought me back to reality. I opened an eye, then nodded.

“And what did he tell you?”

“… to not run away.” I bit my lower lip, hard enough to draw blood. Jimin seemed to notice it, and he took one of my hands in his and rubbed it soothingly. The guilt and the sudden reminder of the state Yin was in were making my heart clench.

“Jungkook-ah, look at me. Hey.” he forced my chin until our eyes met. His worried expression melted into a tender smile. He wiped the tears that had slowly rolled down my cheeks.

“Kookie… why are you crying all of a sudden?”

I sniffled, not being able to stop the tears.

“Here, move a bit over there…” He made his way onto the bed, providing me with much-needed cuddles. I breathed in against his chest, the warmth he was providing me with mitigated all the resentment and misery of that day.

“Want to talk?”

I wiped my tears, nuzzling in closer, as if hiding from something, Jimin’s soft peach scent making me feel safer.

“It’s just… I ruined everyone’s life. The only reason you’re here is because I can’t manage my feelings. And I should have noticed earlier what Yin was going through…”

“How could you have known? Not even her friends knew it, how were you supposed to help?” Jimin immediately replied, gently ruffling my hair.

“I’m scared hyung… It’s so scary to see another person you care about to go down the same identical path. What will I do if when I see her, I freeze and panic? What will I do then? I don’t want to run away, but I’m scared…”

I felt silly about weeping like a small child even though I was in my mid-twenties, but Jimin never failed to make me feel comforted.

“Jungkookie… you’re not alone in this, you know right? I’m here with you. And I won’t lie to you, Yin is going down that path, but we’re not the same anymore. The doctors didn’t help your brother, they didn’t take us seriously. But look at where we are: you’ve got a full medical team around you. She doesn’t have to follow that path until the very end. She won’t, I promise you.”

He sat up, ruffling my hair once again. “I know it will be hard for you. But I checked up on Yin today, and I’ll have her eating at least one meal a day supervised by me. She ate today and didn’t even put up that much resistance.”

“Really?” I exclaimed, my heart beating furiously.

“Yeah…”  

“That’s such a relief!” I hugged him again, my heart way lighter after this information. He talked about their meeting, and curiosity sparked in my heart.

“And tell me; now that you know her a bit better, is she like what I’ve always told you?”

“I think she’s not really shy. She just holds back and avoids speaking her mind. But she seems really sensitive to me. She has the entire world inside.”

I smiled. That’s exactly how she was. Apparently, one of those quiet girls who never speak. But if you let her do so through writing, you could tell that there was more than what meets the eye. There was so much more in there, so much passion, sorrow. A beautiful pearl hidden under a hard shell. She was quite an extraordinary type, paying attention to the smallest details, losing herself in the tiny pleasures a drop of rain or a gust of wind could offer her. When everything else came crumbling down, if a flower bloomed, then nothing else mattered to her. If a golden ray of sun shone on her book during a class, then that was the most dazzling and extraordinary thing that could have ever happened in the entire universe.

Since that day eight years ago, I had tried to lose myself by destroying my life, and slowly, years had sluggishly passed by in a blur of senseless days and broken memories. Never in those years had I glanced at the sky, or at a tiny drop of water on the grass. Not until I met her. She changed my entire perspective on things. The sky became a canvas to paint on, a drop turned into a precious, glimmering diamond. Slowly, I started to enjoy happiness. I didn’t want to forget anymore; every detail of this world, I wanted to remember it. I wanted to engrave everything in my mind, to feel it with my hands, to see it with my eyes, I needed to hear it, to smell it, to taste it. I needed to perceive everything. It was then that I had slowly started to grow the desire to never be robbed of my feelings ever again, for how painful they could be.

It was the day I read her first essay that I decided it was time for me to break free of that horrible, numb prison I had sealed myself into. I had never told anyone about this. I didn’t know why, but I felt like it was a secret, something to protect from everything and everyone. I had gotten extremely possessive on her impact on my life.

“She told me that since the first time she has seen you she felt like she could trust you, and that it was her first time being able to do that. You should have seen her, Jungkookie… her eyes were glistening as she spoke of how great of a person you are and how she could see you genuinely loved literature.” Jimin continued. My heart fluttered at those words, a weird sense of pride blooming in my soul at the thought I was the first person she had opened to in that way.

“Think how far you’ve come, Jungkookie… she adores the spark in your eyes, and loves the person you are. Don’t lose hope, even though you relapsed. You got better, and it shows. I’ve heard from Namjoonie hyung that you refused taking the emotion suppressants. I’m so proud of you.”

My lips quivered as Jimin hyung hugged me again.

“My poor Jungkookie… We’ve come so far… don’t give up now. Let’s keep walking forward”

Sadly, our cuddling had to end. I knew that was bound to happen, but still, the departure left me with a bitter aftertaste.

As soon as the possibility of Jimin leaving me here alone presented to my mind, my heart began racing again. I was safe with Jimin, but could I be trusted if left alone with my thoughts? This large room that made me feel so tiny only seemed to get bigger when I thought of the warmth of Jimin’s presence replaced by cold and menacing eyes in the dark.

Jimin sat on the chair next to me, making the goodbye a bit more gradual and less painful.

“Kook, although this is Namjoon’s hospital, I cannot stay the night, they won’t allow me. I wish I could, but I must go home. Take care, rest a lot and regain your strength. Call me if something happens or if you feel lonely. I’m always here for you, hmm?” I nodded. Jimin freed himself from my clingy hands. I pouted, and he chuckled as he noticed it.

“Hey, do you have banana milk? Are you allowed to drink it?” Jimin suddenly murmured, looking around.

“I don’t think so...”  

“Then I’ll buy you some when you come home, hmm? I’ll buy you enough to last a month, deal?”

“Deal.” I answered, grinning.

Banana milk. Another one of those comforting foods from my childhood. There must have been nobody else in the world that really liked it, but for me, it was the tastiest beverage. It reminded me of warm afternoons, of merry laughter, of when I was still a child and knew nothing about pain.

“See you, Gguk-ah. Call me if you need me.”

It was then that I noticed a hint of pain in Jimin’s facial expression. He slowly got up, as if he was not sure his legs could hold him up. Still, a smile stubbornly lingered on his lips.

“Hyung…?”  

“I’m going, rest a lot, okay?” He walked towards the door, his legs shaking.

As he closed the door, I heard a sob. My heart burst in my chest as I made my way to the door as quickly as possible. When I opened it, Jimin was on the ground, sitting against the wall, pinching the bridge of his nose, eyes squeezed shut.

“Hyung!” I crouched next to him, squeezing his hand, trying to comfort him in some way.

“Hyung are you sick or something? What’s going on?” I insisted. But he shook his head, forcing a weak smile on his lips.

“I’m just a bit tired… I’ll sleep it off.” He got up wobbling, leaning against the wall.  

“Hyung, why don’t you have Namjoon check you? You don’t seem to be feeling good.”

Again, he refused. “There’s no need to bother Namjoon for this, really. I’m going now. See you soon, Jungkook, take care.”

I was still holding his arm tightly, not willing to let him go. His gaze was glued to the ground. I was worried, but he was an adult… he was my hyung. If he wanted to go, I couldn’t force him to stay. I wanted to protect him so bad, but it was his choice after all. Reluctantly, I softened my grip, and let him go. He relaxed a bit, as he probably understood he wouldn’t have to fight with me to let him go.

“Hyung… I trust you. But please, take care of yourself.”

He tiredly hugged me once more, and then wobblingly made his way down the corridor, disappearing behind the corner. Just like that, I was left alone. I walked back in the now moonlit room, worry eating me from the inside out. Was Jimin okay? He wasn’t going to take care of himself, was he? I felt powerless. Worry, disorientation, it all mixed together, fuelling the internal turmoil in my heart, leaving me unable to sleep, shifting restlessly in the bed.

“Liar!”

A voice harshly whispered in my ear, stirring me completely. I jumped up, drenched in cold sweat. I hastily switched the light on, but there was nobody there. I sighed. Not again. Shaking in fear, I laid back down, closed my eyes.

“You lied to everybody!”

I hastily got out of bed, pressed myself against the wall as I tried to keep my heart rate under control. What if I called Jimin? No, he was already too tired. I couldn’t weight on him more than I already did.

My eyes frantically darted across the room, restless, until they found the moon outside the balcony door.

I opened the door and moved a couple of steps onto the balcony. My room overlooked the hospital’s parking lot. The sky was dark and clear, a full moon visible. As a pale reflection in a misty lake, its candid rays hovered over the grey concrete buildings, intangible and mysterious. A refreshing breeze was blowing, and I felt like I could finally breathe again. As I looked down, I expected the parking lot to be empty, the yellowish streetlights sending a dim light. Instead, I could see people there. Squinting my eyes, I recognized Jimin’s car.

Was he still here? Next to it, a figure was huddled on the floor and another one was crouched next to the first. As I tried to figure out what could possibly be happening, a man in a white hospital gown rushed to them. He looked extremely familiar. I scrambled to the bedside table, searching for my glasses. When I came back to the balcony, I recognized Namjoon was the doctor I had seen coming out of the hospital. And the one next to the car… Jimin? Was he okay? Was my mind playing tricks on me? But the more I looked, the more I was sure it was him. He had a hood cast over his face, but I could see his bleached strands of hair escaping the dark hoodie. And the other one? Was that guy… Yoongi? What was he doing there?

--------------------

Yoongi’s POV

“She saved me”.

Those words that Jungkook had probably unconsciously blurted out kept buzzing in my head. Since the moment I had entered the room, I knew something in Jungkook had changed. Well, I had already thought of it, since for the last 6 months he hadn’t even asked for pills. Even so, when he had relapsed, I thought it all had been just a happy interlude. But he had indeed changed. I could tell by the renewed sparkle in his eyes. He wasn’t begging for death anymore. There was anger, and life in him. I wasn’t sure whether provoking him would end up being the right choice, but it worked: he told me everything. Wanting to feel everything, refusing anxiety suppressants; that had never happened in the last 8 years. He wanted to talk about the past; he mentioned his brother’s name. That was a first too. I needed to confirm stuff, to understand what was going on. Could all this possibly be thanks to that girl? Since when had he started teaching her? What had happened between those two? And if she was the cause of his improvement, why did he keep it hidden? He was aware of it, so why hide it? It was late, but I needed to know.

I quickly dialled Jimin’s number, walking back and forth as the beeping amplified my impatience. I was about to hang up when he finally answered.

“Hello…?” A shaky voice replied from the other side of the phone. Jimin seemed to be extremely tired, more than usual; Had he been crying?

“Jimin… where are you?” A new urgency overstepped the latter, the laboured breath on the other side of the phone fuelling my worries.

“In… the hospital’s parking lot…” he quietly mumbled, sniffling.

“Hey. Are you okay?”

“I-I don’t think I can drive, hyung.” The exhaustion in his voice alarmed me.  

“Is it the migraines again?”

A whimper. I took that as a yes. “You don’t have the meds with you, do you?”

“I’ve forgotten them…” A sob escaped his mouth.

Shit.

“Wait there, I’m coming. Don’t do anything risky. Just stay where you are, okay?” I rushed out of my apartment and took a cab to the hospital. I knew it. Jimin had led himself to exhaustion once again. Did I ask him too much by telling him to look after the girl too? It must have been hard for him. Had he even slept? Migraines were never a good sign when it came to Jimin. It was his body’s way to alert him he was neglecting his own health way too much. The migraines weren’t frequent, but they were pretty strong, enough to leave him dazed and weak. If he had tried to drive in that situation, it wouldn’t have ended well. I was glad he was at least conscious enough to realize the state he was in and attempted nothing dangerous. I kept wondering what would have happened if I didn’t call him. Would he have stayed in the parking lot for the entire night? Would he have driven home eventually, putting his life at stake? And if he was in the hospital’s parking lot, why didn’t he go back in there? Was it already so bad that he couldn’t even walk? When I finally got there, I looked around, squinting my eyes in the dark, a chilling wind making me shiver. There, on the ground, near a black car that looked like Jimin’s, a small figure was sitting, huddled on the ground, shivering. I immediately rushed to him, heart racing in my chest.

“Hey, how bad is it?” I hastily asked. He winced in pain, covering his ears, and I immediately lowered my voice. I took his head in my hands. He scanned my face with squinched eyes, as if he was trying to understand who I was, desperately trying to block out the dim light of the streetlamps.

“Hyung… is it you?”

“How are you feeling?” I whispered, barely audible.

“Horrible. Can’t walk... sounds and light hurt,” he murmured; eyes squeezed shut.

“Okay, what If I help you and we go back inside the hospital for a minute?” He was shivering in the night's cold. It took him some time to process what I had said, but he eventually nodded. I tried to make him stand, but I miserably failed as he was too dizzy, and couldn’t hold himself up even with my help. He wasn’t that heavy, but I didn’t have the strength to carry him over to the hospital.

“Damn it.” I muttered to myself. “This won’t do…” I laid him down again, sheltering him from the dazzling light with my body. Another gust of wind. Jimin was shivering nonstop: it was hard to tell whether it was because of the cold or his current state. I took my jacket off and wrapped Jimin in it, pulling the hood over his head. What could I possibly do? I could go into the hospital to call for help, but I didn’t really feel like leaving Jimin alone in this state. And Jimin didn’t really seem keen on the idea either, tightly gripping my sleeve every time as soon as I tried to get up. I eventually dialed Namjoon’s number.

“Hyung? Why are you calling at such a late hour?”

“Namjoon, are you in the hospital right now?” I whispered.

“Yes… but what’s going on?”

“I’m in the parking lot of your hospital with Jiminie. Usual migraines, but he doesn’t have the meds. He can’t walk and I’m not strong enough to carry him. Could you please… come out for a second?”

“Oh god. Sure. Let me find the meds and I’m immediately there.” Namjoon hung up.

“Jimin, Jimin can you hear me?” I spoke as softly as I could. He slowly nodded; eyes shut, sharply inhaling.

“Namjoon is coming with the medicines, endure it a bit more, okay?”

“Kay…”

 Shortly after, Namjoon came rushing to us. “Jimin, it’s me, Namjoon” he spoke clearly, but still maintaining his tone to a mere whisper, trying to get through to the boy who was now curled up into a ball.  

“This won’t work. He’s shivering. Let’s lay him inside the car, at least. Where are his keys?” Namjoon murmured, directing a worried gaze at me. I searched his pockets until I found the key and unlocked the car.

“Let’s lift him. We’ll lay him on the passenger seat for now.” Together, we carried him there, reclining the seat. Namjoon passed me a bottle of water and a pill.  

“Jimin. Take this. Come on, it’ll help you.”

Eventually, Jimin managed to gulp it down.

“There. Lay down.” We covered him with a blanket we found in the trunk and turned the car lights off. We shut the door as we waited for the medicine to have its effect, sheltering him from the sound of our voices. As I was telling Namjoon about what had happened, I felt someone tugging my sleeve.

Turning around, I gasped as I saw Jungkook in his pyjamas, standing there, in the middle of the parking lot.

“Jungkook! What are you doing here?” Namjoon was even more worried and scolded him.

“How did you even get out? You should be resting!”

“Are you okay?” I asked when I noticed Jungkook looked quite shook and pale.

Jungkook ignored our questions. He glanced at the car and noticed Jimin laying inside, an arm cast over his eyes.

“W-what’s wrong with Jimin hyung? I-is he okay?” I debated whether to tell him the truth or not. I didn’t want him to worry or blame himself, but I was in no place to lie to him, especially after this afternoon’s talk. It’s not like he wouldn’t find out later, anyway.

“He’ll be fine soon-” I tenderly smiled, but I then frowned when Jungkook took a shaky breath glancing upwards towards what I believed to be his room.

“Jungkook there’s something you’re not telling us.” I crossed my arms.

The boy once again directed his eyes to the room.

“What’s up there?”

Jungkook shook his head. “Nothing. J-just wondering if… if I closed the window. What’s wrong with Jimin?”

Insisting now wouldn’t have worked. So I just gave in.

“He’s having one of his migraines… he didn’t have his medicines.”

Jungkook lowered his eyes to the ground, like a lost puppy. “So, it was the migraines… I should have called a nurse earlier.”  

“What do you mean?” Namjoon asked.

Jungkook sighed in regret, biting his lip. “Earlier Jimin came to visit me. When he left, he was already wobbling and didn’t seem to feel so good. I didn’t call the nurses as he assured me he was okay, and I thought that being in the medical field he knew better… I’m sorry…”

“It’s not your fault, Jungkook...” I replied. A gust of chilly wind made Jungkook shiver. Namjoon protectively placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Kook, you’re freezing. Let’s go back inside, hmm? You shouldn’t be staying out here.”

“But- what about Jimin?” he insisted, not willing to move.

“Yoongi hyung, could you please take Jimin home? The medicine should have its effect by now.” Namjoon murmured, glancing at his watch.

I nodded, looking at the poor boy, still laying in the car.

“Thank you. I don’t think he needs extra treatment, so it’s okay to go. But please, tell him to rest for a bit.”

“Sure, I’ll have him take at least half a day off.”

“You’re not listening to me.” Jungkook said. “I won’t go back inside before I’ve seen Jimin. Let me go in the car for a minute.”

Namjoon and I exchanged doubtful glances. Jungkook was supposed to rest, not stay out here in the cold. And Jimin needed rest too. But Jungkook surely wouldn’t accept to leave before having seen Jimin. I nodded in defeat.

“Fine, but don’t talk loudly.” Namjoon reluctantly sighed. Jungkook opened the backseat door and snuck in, closing it immediately to prevent the cold from entering.

Chapter Text

External POV

Jungkook gradually moved closer to Jimin, who was still laying on the reclined seat, an arm cast over his eyes as he faintly breathed. Jungkook’s heart clenched at that sight. His strong, sweet, and caring hyung who was always there for him had overworked himself once again. And he couldn’t blame Jimin for it. He had to take care of Yin and him. He realized how much pressure had been forced onto his shoulders and couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt stab his heart. Slowly, he began to stroke Jimin’s hair, passing his hands through the frizzy over bleached strands, as the boy stirred under his touch. He looked like a delicate flower worn out by too much sun and wind.

Jimin tiredly lifted his arm from his eyes to see who was there; he was pretty sure it was Jungkook, he could recognize his feather touch in a million. Barely opening his eyes, he searched for the raven-haired boy. And as he expected, he found him there, squatted next to him, still dressed in the hospital’s pyjamas, staring at him with his puppy eyes, a mix of worry and tenderness in them.

Closing his eyes again, he deeply breathed in. “I knew it was you Jungkookie…” he softly smiled, as the younger cupped his cheeks with his delicate fingers. Jimin’s voice was groggy.

“How are you feeling, hyung?” he murmured in a soft tone.

“Better. The meds are working.”

Jungkook’s presence always calmed Jimin down. They had a really close bond, constantly comforting each other through the years. It was usually Jimin the one to take care of Jungkook, but on the rare occasions in which Jimin too showed his vulnerable side, Jungkook never failed to return the favour.

Jimin reopened his eyes. They could barely see each other in the comfortable twilight the car was immersed in. The faint voices of the hyungs talking outside lulled them into another dimension, filled with care, trust, affection and comfort.

“You’re not supposed to be here…” Jimin murmured, passing a hand through Jungkook’s dark strands of hair.

“You’re not supposed to feel like this either. When you left, you couldn’t even walk straight. How was I supposed to rest knowing that something was wrong?” the boy muttered, a pout appearing on his lips.

“Sorry...” Jimin couldn’t help but feel his heart bloom with warmth when he remembered that despite everything, Jungkook was always there for him. His little brother he had worked so hard to protect always gave him back more than he could ever ask for. He indulged in the cosy atmosphere, his headache gradually dying down.

“Thank you for coming, Kookie. I’m feeling way better. Although I’d like to stay like this for the entire night, I think it’s best if you go back and try to rest.”

A chill ran down Jungkook’s spine as he was faced with having to go back to the unquiet shadows of his room. Nevertheless, he sat up. He stroked his hyung’s hair one last time before retracting his hand.

“Goodnight hyung, sleep well and rest.” Jungkook murmured, dread creeping on him.

“Night Kook, you too should get plenty of rest and come back strong and healthy, understood?”

“Yeah.”

After a last goodbye, Jungkook finally left the car, Jimin engulfed in a comfortable, but lonelier silence. Jungkook reluctantly walked out into the chilly breeze.

“Is he feeling better?” Namjoon asked. The younger boy nodded.

“Let’s go inside, then…” Namjoon wrapped an arm around him.

“I’ll take care of Jimin. See you later. Both of you, get some rest.” Yoongi murmured, as the other two nodded and walked off. Before entering the building, Jungkook turned one last time and waved at Yoongi.

-----------------------------

Yoongi’s POV

Jungkook walked back to the hospital like a prisoner on death row. What was scaring him so much? What was there in his room of so terrible that it even distracted him from his worry for Jimin?

I reluctantly went back to the car, worried, and conscious of the fact that given Jungkook’s reaction to the topic, I wouldn’t get an answer today nor any time soon.

I sat on the driver’s seat. Jimin tiredly rubbed his eyes as I helped him pull the seat up.

“Better?”

He nodded, giving me an apologetic smile. With my large jacket cast over him, he looked even smaller. In the dark twilight of the car I could easily mistake him for the 17-year-old-Jimin who would fall asleep in the back of my truck as Taehyung snapped pictures of him. But he was not himself anymore. He was just a ghost of his old self. In his eyes, a deep sorrow was hidden under layers of unshed tears.

“I’m sorry I made you come here at this hour of the night…”

I shook my head. “I’m glad you’re feeling better. I was worried you would do something stupid.” Starting the car, I drove away. Jimin rested his head on the seat, eyes closed.

“Jimin,”

“Hmm?” he groggily answered.

“Don’t overdo it. I know you have a lot of things to take care of as of now. But if you need help, please ask. We’re in this together. Every single one of us can do something. Don’t carry all the burden alone. It’s important that you rest too.”

He sighed. As I glanced at him, I could perceive a hint of sadness in his expression.

“I’m sorry hyung. It’s just- It’s been a rough couple of days. You know, at first, after Jungkook’s relapse I felt disheartened and hopeless. I couldn’t see the end of his continuous misery, and it tortured me. What have I spent my life for? If he wasn’t happy, what was I doing here?”

My heart ached at the subtle quiver in his voice. How much suffering had he buried deep down for his migraines to come back so quickly? I drove on; Silence engulfed the car.

“Jimin… have you ever considered… quitting this career? I mean, being a nurse?”

“…Wouldn’t you like to live for yourself rather than just pushing forward to make Jungkook happy? Don’t you think he should be able to find his own happiness, maybe?”

But Jimin didn’t react. He stood in silence, frozen, staring out of the window with eyes devoid of any emotion. The only sign of his uncomfortable state was the way he hid his clenched fists in the large jacket. Maybe this wasn’t the best time to question his life choices. He seemed unstable enough. But if Jungkook continued to improve together with that girl, maybe then I could try once more, push Jimin a little further so that he could live for himself.

Still, I didn’t want to insist. Jimin wasn’t really in the mood to. I shut up and kept driving, the traffic’s murmur being the peaceful soundtrack to our thoughts. When we finally got to the campus, Jimin was already dozing off.

“Jiminie…”

He tiredly turned his head to look at me.

“We’re here.”

Slowly, he regained awareness of his surroundings. “Thank you for driving me here, hyung. But how will you get back home?”

“I’ll call a taxi, don’t worry about it.”

He nodded, apologizing once more.

“Do you need help, or do you think you can do it alone?”

He shook his head smiling. “Thank you hyung, I think I’m okay now. I have medicines at home by the way, I’ll always carry them with me from now on.” I handed the keys back to him after he got out of the car. He gave me the jacket back.

He waved and began walking towards the dorm, but I couldn’t resist the urge to call him. I had to tell him what had been pounding in the back of my mind for a while now.

“Jimin!”

He turned again. The tears he had been holding in were already glistening in his eyes. To avoid looking at me, he diverted his gaze to the ground.

“Jimin… you know medicines aren’t the solution, right? You should work on the root-”

“It’s okay hyung. I’m just tired. I’ll be going now.”

I watched him disappearing behind the building’s door.

“It isn’t okay, Jimin. For how long do you think you’ll be able to go on like that? Pushing on until you collapse? Selflessly giving your life away without ever thinking about who you want to be is not okay. We all made our choices, but me and Namjoon were interested in medicine when we started working in these fields. Jimin… you threw your dreams away to become someone else, to become Jungkook’s crutch to live on. But wouldn’t it be better for Jungkook to learn to walk again? Why are you throwing yourself away?”

I chuckled. “Look at me… talking to a shut door…”

Seeing the state Jimin was in made it more clear to me that before working on Jimin’s feelings, we would have to work on Jungkook’s eventual recovery. There was no way Jimin would leave Jungkook alone in his current situation. He was too stubborn, too caring, and he had caged himself up in something much bigger than him. But if Jungkook were to get better, if he finally got over all this… maybe Jimin could free himself from this lie he had been feeding himself for years.

Yin’s POV

“What?!”

“What do you mean? Isn’t it great? You won the competition!” My friend Mina excitedly yelled, jumping around.

I had been sitting on my bed, staring out of the window as the rain poured down from the heavy clouds hovering over the campus, water gradually pooling in the vases on the windowsill. I quietly observed a tiny bird, which had come to the window in search of shelter from the heavy rain. It scampered around, his feathers all ruffled, lively eyes darting across. I slightly opened the window to better interact with my small new friend, the damp smell of long-lost childhood downpours invading the room.

Reclining my head on the windowsill, mere inches from the bird, I was invaded by an enormous sense of gratitude for being able to experience the tiny pleasures of being alive. The mist raising from the warm asphalt, the deep grey colour of the gloomy sky, the quiet murmur of the drops making their way down to earth as the soil absorbed their memories. Even if everything in my life were to crumble, I had to live on just to experience being alive once more.

It was then that I realized what I was doing by not eating. I was at a point where getting any skinnier wasn’t gonna make me feel better. In the past months, I had barely cared for anything but how much I was eating and how much weight I was losing, to the point I had lost interest in the world. The world that had so many times saved me in the past was always there, but I had turned away from it. That must not happen again. I could lose everything, but not the smell of rain, not the water dripping on the bird’s feathers. If I lost that, then death could as well come and claim me.

And then, my friend barged into the room, screaming, and jumping around.

The time, that had slowed down as I reflected, immediately returned to its usual speed, inexorable and restless. The bird flew away in search of a quieter home, the overflowing vases being the only memory of those mere seconds of happiness.

“You won!” She yelled again, holding a leaflet in front of my face, definitely too close for me to see more than a couple of letters inked on the thin sheet.

“You’re leaving tomorrow, isn’t that great? Plus, you’re going to spend 5 full days with the hottest teacher in the campus, Mr. Jeon! I can’t believe this! I wish I were in your place…”

I scanned the paper, purposefully ignoring her comments.

“Mina... we’ve been over this a million times, this is a literature convention, it’s not like we’re going to hang out or something! W-we’re just going to hear people speaking in a big auditorium and then-”

“And then you’ll have dinner with him and-” Mina bit her tongue as she looked at me, waiting for my reaction.

“Sorry, I didn’t want to mention the food topic…”

I smiled, patting her back.

“It’s fine… I don’t mind, really”

She quickly regained her usual excitement.

“But then, thinking back to the convention… I heard the hot nurse will accompany you.” She whispered, wiggling her eyebrows.

“The one who came in here visiting you a week ago… he’s so charming!”

“Jiminssi is coming too?” I blinked in confusion.

Mina eyed me suspiciously.

“Jiminssi…? When have you gotten so intimate with Mr. Park? You’re so lucky, you have so many hot guys taking care of you,” she whined.

I blushed, rubbing my neck, and laughing awkwardly.

“But why would he be coming with us?” I asked.

“Isn’t it obvious? To keep an eye on you!”

“I don’t think so… If he wanted to make sure I ate, Mr. Jeon would be enough…”

She thought back on it for a bit, and then lowered her voice, as if she were to say something top secret.

“I heard that handsome nurse is friends with Mr. Jeon, and that Mr. Jeon has some kind of traumatic past. Maybe he wants to check on him. I think I’ve seen Mr. Jeon enter the nurse’s room many times… It could just be to talk to his friend but what if he had an underlying illness? Wouldn’t that be so romantic?”

She excitedly jumped around.

“Um… I wouldn’t really define it as romantic but okay…”

“Well, anyway, you’re going on a convention with the hottest men on campus! I would pay to be you right now!” She continued, clapping.

“Anyway… what should I wear?” I murmured, without really listening to what she answered as she began rummaging into my closet. I was trying to divert the conversation onto something else. Going to a convention with both Jimin and Mr. Jeon made me feel quite nervous.

Mr. Jeon had been acting strange since the accident, I wondered if I had made him uncomfortable. I didn’t want my disorder to be a burden for them.

When he had come back from the visit to his parents in Busan, a week since my collapse, he looked extremely tired, and more emotional than usual. He had always worn his heart on his sleeve, but this week he had been especially easy to read.

His eyes showed a new glimmer I had never seen in them. It wasn’t the usual sadness. I mean, I would sometimes catch a glimpse of it, but there was something new in them. Was it… fear?

Sometimes, as I entered the class, I would notice his eyes glimmer in terror, his hands clutching into fists under the desk, breathing picking up. During lessons, he would constantly glance in my direction, as if to check on me. It was awkward, but I couldn’t blame him for it. I had collapsed in his arms after all, maybe it was natural for him to make sure I was okay. Thinking back on it, it was extremely embarrassing. Passing out in front of my favourite teacher, my problem being unveiled in front of him, when he probably had enough to worry about with his relatives or whatever he had to deal with in his hometown.

I had already gone back to school when he came back. During the first class I had found it extremely difficult to keep my focus, and it seemed he was struggling too. There was an awkward mood, other students noticed it too. When the class finally ended, I walked up to Mr. Jeon’s desk. He looked tired, breaking a sweat although it was quite cold, rain pouring outside as it had been for the last couple days. He didn’t notice me, reviewing some notes and checking his timetable.

“Um… Mr. Jeon…” I murmured, voice quivering.

He jumped at the sudden interruption.

“Yes?”

“I- I wanted to apologize for my… behaviour these past couple months. I should have never gotten to this point. I can’t say I’m over it, but I’m working on it, I’m having lunch with Jimin- uh- with Mr. Park everyday so that I can get better.”

The silence in the room was getting suffocating, as the last students exited the large room.

“I- I also wanted to thank you for helping me that day. I’m sorry if I made you worry, I will deeply reflect on my actions so that I’m not a burden to you anymore…”

Mr. Jeon nodded, smiling. But he avoided eye contact with me. After a long pause, he finally spoke.

“Don’t worry about what happened. I’m glad you’re working on it. Jimin is a great friend of mine, and I trust him fully. You’re in good hands.”

He seemed to grow more and more anxious every second that passed. He probably had a lot of things to worry about at that moment. I walked away after that, but as I closed the door behind me, it seemed to me that Mr. Jeon was extremely exhausted. He placed his elbows on the desk and rested his face in his hands. I had lunch with Jimin after that, but when I got there, I remembered of Mr. Jeon’s condition.

“Hey sweetie, how is it going today?”

Jimin chirped happily, already setting the table in one of the rooms in the nursery.

“Um… I’m okay but-”

“Jungkookie was supposed to come back today. Did you have a class with him?” he cluelessly asked, humming.

“Ah, about that… Mr. Jeon… he… I just left his class now. But he didn’t seem to feel that good. He looked… anxious or something?”

Jimin stared at me, the spoon he was holding fell to the ground with a sharp sound.

“What…?”

Jimin’s eyes were now showing a glimmer of terror.

“Um, yeah… he was sweating and-”

“Excuse me, I’ll be back in no time. I need to check something.”

He quickly grabbed some stuff from his table and threw it in his pockets. With no further explanation he dashed out of the room, as I listened to his hurried steps getting further away.

------------------------------------

Jimin’s POV

My blood ran cold as Yin told me about Jungkook. Not again. He had just been dismissed from the hospital, was he relapsing again? I dashed out of the room. I ran as fast as I could and flung the door open. Hunched over the desk, Jungkook was panting, head hidden in his arms.

“Jungkook!” I yelled, running to his side.

“Hey, hey Kook, what’s going on? Are you okay?” I sweetened my tone to calm him down.

I wiped his sweat, soothingly rubbing his back. Gradually, his breathing returned to a normal pace.

“Sorry hyung, didn’t want to scare you. I just need a second to calm down. You know, i-it was my first day seeing her again, it was hard, I’m not gonna lie.”

“I get it. But it will get easier, I promise.”

He nodded, eyes shut, as I massaged his neck.

We stood in the silence of the room, the faint sound of rain seeping in from the semi-opened window. I breathed deeply, urging my heart to calm down too. I was terrified he was going to go into another panic attack. He seemed calmer, but what if it happened? I couldn’t allow myself to panic like last time. I needed to focus and be there for him.

“Hyung…”

“Hmm?”

I murmured, as Jungkook sat up straight, calmer, but still not back to normal.

“How did you know I was feeling…”

“Ah. Yin just told me you seemed a bit tired.”

He hid his face in his hands again. “Well, great… what will she think of me now?”

“What should she think? She holds you in highest regard, stop overthinking. What’s more important now is that you rest and calm down. You look exhausted. Please, come to the infirmary to lie down a bit.”

“But… she’s there… right?”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re literally shaking. There’s no way I’m leaving you in here.”

“And there’s no way I’m walking in there whilst she’s in that room.”

I sighed. “We have multiple rooms, you dumbass. I’ve set the table in one of the last rooms, I’ll just ask her not to come out for a second and will carry you to another room.”

It took some convincing, but finally, he agreed. We walked down the hallway, my eyes never leaving the trembling figure who still insisted to walk on its own. I had expected him to be in much worse shape. He was handling it surprisingly well, considering that not even 5 days before he had seized. I was entering the infirmary when Jungkook abruptly stopped, not willing to move.

“What?”

“Really?” he would not enter with Yin there. That was so childish. Still, Jungkook stubbornly stared at me with pleading eyes.

“Fine…”

I walked to the room where Yin was waiting, the idea of leaving Jungkook alone in the hallway making me uncomfortable.

I apologetically smiled to the girl, whose gaze was following me as I entered the room.

“Sorry, I have to do something for a second. I’ll just close this door for privacy. I’ll be back in no time.”

She smiled back to me, relieved to see me calmer after I had run away without a decent explanation. It must have been obvious to her that the person I was talking about was Jungkook, even so, she asked nothing. I went back to Jungkook and helped him inside. I laid him on a bed in another room checking his vitals. He seemed calm on the outside, but his heart was still beating furiously.

“Kook-”

No answer. He was blankly staring at the ceiling.

“Kook!” I drew a sigh as he looked back at me.

“God, I could swear you were about to have another seizure. Stop scaring me.”

“Sorry… I got distracted…” he slowly murmured, as I massaged my chest trying to force my heart to calm down. How could I leave him in there alone?

“Hyung, I’m fine, really.” He said while squeezing my hand tight.

“You can go to Yin now… I’m okay. I’ll rest in here.”

I hesitantly stared around. My eyes fell on the cabinet next to the bed, I scanned the long names searching for the medicines that Jungkook would need. Nothing for seizures.

I turned around, searching the other cabinets with my gaze. Not in there, nothing over there…

“Hyung… I’ll call you if I need help, okay?”

I sighed in defeat.

“Alright Jungkookie… try to rest for a bit.” I murmured, tiredly placing the stethoscope back around my neck. I massaged my temples to relax.

“I-is it the migraines?” he immediately asked, alarmed.

I shook my head. “No… I’m fine. Do you have any more classes today?”

“No. this was the last.”

“Good. Then just lay here until I come back. I want to make sure you’re okay. When I’ll be finished with Yin, I’ll walk you to your apartment, okay?”

“Thanks, hyung… You should rest, but I’m making you work even harder…”

“Don’t worry about me, I’m fine. Just relax, hmm? As you can see, Yin is fine and slowly she’s starting to eat again. Everything’s under control.”

And after a last hopefully comforting hug, I left the room.

Chapter Text

Jimin’s POV

I made my way back to the room Yin was staying in, a reassuring smile on my lips. I closed the door, always keeping the phone in my pocket, in the unfortunate case Jungkook might need my help.

“Sorry about that. Are you hungry?”

“Well…” she murmured, lowering her gaze. “I would not say I’m hungry but… I’m not dreading the idea of eating as much as I did yesterday. I mean… I can still only handle light soups, but I guess… I guess it’s a start, right?”

I nodded. “Yep. A good start.”

We started eating, and everything seemed fine. I was finally calming down, the fear for Jungkook subsiding as the time passed. However, I quickly noticed Yin was getting slightly distressed. Was she thinking about gaining weight again? I had expected it to be hard for her in the beginning, but I couldn’t help but worry about her every time she started looking uncomfortable while eating.

I vividly remembered Junghyun’s cries and yells as we had tried to force him to eat something.

The memories were heavy on me, guilt forever scorched onto my heart. After seeing Junghyun’s pain, hearing it, feeling it on my skin, I shivered at the bare thought of ever forcing anybody else through that hell. I could still hear Jungkook’s sobs, the persistent, excruciating questions we didn’t have an answer for. I remembered Jungkook running away from home because he couldn’t stand listening to his parents arguing about the situation.

One night he had come knocking at my parent’s house, tears filling his eyes, asking for me. My parents had obviously let him in, knowing what he was going through. The moment he saw me, he ran to me and hugged me, desperately sobbing as I patted his head, not knowing what to do or say, shook to the core. The completely panicked state he was in had alarmed my parents too, and the next day they tried to convince Jungkook’s parents to get medical help for Junghyun, as it was serious and was affecting both of their sons’ lives.

But they refused.

It went on for months on end, Jungkook’s pleas ignored, Junghyun getting worse every day that passed by, life slowly being drained out of his body, eyes devoid of the vigorous sparkle they once had. Before any of us could even realize it, Junghyun was on the brink of death. Then, something changed. He got slightly better; began to understand what he was doing to himself wasn’t healthy. It was then that everything came crumbling down. He vanished, on a day just like the others, when we believed everything would have gone back to normal.

It wasn’t fair. Junghyun’s last moments shouldn’t have come so soon. He shouldn’t have died in an ambulance, alone, surrounded by strangers. It should have been us, there, holding his hand, comforting him as he exhaled his last breath. That evening, when Jungkook called me in tears, I wasn’t prepared. Junghyun was being taken to the hospital. He was unconscious. That was all we knew at that time. All reunited together, we were desperately running towards the hospital, hoping to know more about his condition. But when Jungkook fell to the ground, in agony, it all ended there. He kept yelling and crying hysterically. And when we finally got a couple of words out of his mouth, it wasn’t anything we could have been prepared for. Desperation, agony.

“He’s gone! I just know it! He’s gone!”

We ran to the hospital anyway, Namjoon carrying Jungkook on his shoulders, he was suffering too much to even breathe properly.

At first, we didn’t believe him; we didn’t want to. There was no way Junghyun was dead. It couldn’t be. But when we arrived at the hospital, we were faced with a cruel reality. Jungkook scrambled forward as soon as a stretcher exited an ambulance, desperation giving him frantic strength. The face of the boy who was lying on the stretcher was covered, but we were sure it was Junghyun. The last glimmer of hope set with the last rays of light. And as the dusk washed over the earth, desperation flooded our hearts.

Gone.

The next days passed in a blur; no words existed to express what we felt. The blackest fears, voiceless screams, words too painful to say. A mute anguish, that engulfed us and slowly suffocated our hearts. There was no youth left for us. All of it had been extinguished in a matter of seconds, no opportunity to go back. There was nothing left. Only pain. Jungkook never forgave his parents for not believing Junghyun, for not searching a way to save him. He never spoke with his parents again. We were all too young and couldn’t forgive them either at that time. So when Jungkook ran away from home and went to Yoongi who already lived on his own, he couldn’t help but accept his choice, becoming his legal guardian.

But even worse than Jungkook hating his parents, Jungkook was blaming himself. Whenever we managed to get a word out of him, it was just harsh self-blame. It was his fault; it had been him the cause of the boy’s death; he was sure. To this day, I still hear him, sometimes, in his sleep, begging for forgiveness.

Looking back on it, I wonder if it would have been better for us to convince Jungkook to stay at home, where he would have lived more comfortably. Was it okay for us to take care of him? I had questioned it so many times. Would he have gone into rehab if he had been at home? Was his grief worsened by us trying to play adults when we weren’t?

But his parents didn’t seem interested in searching for him after he left. They accepted his choice and never came back to him, not even to say hi. I wish we had known back then; I wish we would have been able to do the right thing to help him and Junghyun.

We were all so young, Junghyun was too young, but nobody could save him. If only... if only we had been more careful... If only the doctors had listened to us...

A sob distracted me from my regrets.

It took me some time to come back to reality, to focus on what was going on, to set the burning the memories aside. I glanced at the girl. She was staring at the full plate in front of her, tears rolling down her cheeks.

“Hey... Hey sweetie, what’s wrong?”

I crouched down next to her, wiping the tears that had rolled down her flushed cheeks.

“I’m sorry, I’m a mess...”

“No, you’re not... come here, let’s calm down a bit and then talk, okay?”

I offered her a tissue and waited for her to calm down. I dragged a chair next to her and sat there, waiting for her to open up. Those minutes of quiet peacefulness allowed me to pull myself together. I shouldn’t have delved so deep into my painful memories, not now that I was needed.

“So.. what is it?” I whispered, almost as if she was a delicate flower to protect and talking loudly would have hurt her. I took her hands in mine. After a shaky breath, she finally started talking.

“I’m frustrated... I felt okay with eating today... but then I couldn’t eat more than half of the soup. I know it takes time but...”

“You know, it’s a process, it can’t happen overnight. It’s the overthinking that makes it harder. You were thinking about gaining weight and losing control while eating, right?”

She lowered her gaze, biting her lip.

“Hey, hey it’s okay. That’s what we need to work on. Food doesn’t have to be the focus. We can talk about other things, what you like to do, even literature... although Mr. Jeon would be more expert than me in that field.”

She giggled. There. That smile was what I was hoping for.

“So don’t worry. You can make it. It’ll take time, sure, but we can work it out together. I’m here for you, okay?”

Heartened by my words, we went back to eating, as we talked about various topics. Obviously, there wasn’t an outstanding amount of progress, but she gulped down a couple of spoonfuls more as we went on with our conversation. I discovered she had a peculiar fondness for small details, for things that would look insignificant to others. And that made me wonder what else she could be treasuring inside her. She was a really considerate and quiet girl, but also talkative when you offered her your attention. At some point, the conversation died down, and she stopped eating, biting her lip as if she wanted to say something but was holding back.

“Is there something you want to tell me or maybe ask me…?”

I murmured, as her cheeks gradually tainted with a light rosy colour.

“Um… I- I didn’t want to be invasive, but earlier… When I told you about Mr. Jeon you seemed… um… a bit anxious. I- I was wondering if he was okay b-but if it’s too private you don’t have to answer me…”

I expected that question, and yet, I wasn’t really prepared to answer it. Should I have told her? Would Jungkook have been okay with it?

“Oh, he’s okay. Um… I don’t want to tell you things without his consent, but I can assure you he’s fine now. It’s just… we’ve been through some rough stuff in the past, so I just react by instinct when it comes to him… It’s just a stupid habit.”

Jungkook’s colleagues had no idea of what he had gone through. He hadn’t told it to a single soul. It’s not that I didn’t trust Yin, but I couldn’t really violate Jungkook’s privacy like that.

“Thank you for answering although it must be hard, Jiminssi. It’s best if I go now, I think you have important things to take care of. Besides, I’m really loaded with homework, and I have to hand in a paper for some kind of literature contest.”

“Oh wow, good luck with that. I’m sure you’ll be able to do it perfectly.”

She rubbed her neck awkwardly, cheeks slightly flushed. “Ah, I don’t know about that. My classmates basically forced me to take part. I’m not confident I’ll win or something, but I’ll give it my best.” She got up and collected her bag.

“Then… I’ll get going. See you tomorrow.”

Jungkook’s POV

“Jungkookie, come with me.”

Jimin dragged me out of my apartment and led me into his, right next door. Before entering, he turned around to face me.

“Kook-ah, are you planning on going to that convention?”

I huffed in frustration. “Of course. I’ve thought about it all night. I don’t want to run away, hyung.”

“Do you realize how dangerous it could be? What if you panic again? I’m not trying to dissuade you; I just want to make sure you know what you’re getting yourself into.”

I looked at him, straight in the eyes. “Yes, I know it will be hard. But I want to go. I’m not willing to back away now that I’ve started to improve.”

“You collapsed not that long ago.”

“I know, but- hyung, it’s different. You can’t tell me you haven’t noticed I was getting better. Since the beginning of this school year, since when Yin…”

“A-anyway, I’m different! I can feel it! Please, I want to go…”

Jimin sighed, visibly distressed and colder than usual. I could tell by his eyes: he was scared.

“I don’t want you to ask for my permission. I want you to take this decision yourself. But I want to make sure you’ve considered it thoroughly. It’s dangerous.”

“I’m sure hyung. I’ve talked with Yoongi hyung already, he’s okay with it. I’m going.”

He walked back and forth for a couple minutes, deep in thought.

“You’re completely sure, right?” he murmured looking at me in the eyes.

“Yes.”

He sighed, his head hanging low, hands on his hips. He looked up again, a slight smile on his lips.

“Okay Kook, I won’t argue any longer. You seriously thought about this, so I will not interfere with your choice. I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks, hyung!” I hugged him.

Jimin then took my hand and dragged me inside his apartment.

“Hyung, what are you doing?” I asked as he threw a small suitcase on his bed.

“What do you mean? I’m coming with you,” he casually murmured, picking outfits to bring with him. Stylish as always. He walked to the mirror, trying different combinations of shirts and jackets.

“B-but hyung, there’s no need to-”

He stopped comparing clothes to momentarily look at me through the large mirror. Then, as if I had said nothing at all, he went back to what he was doing.

“Jungkookie… Just think about it, hmm? You and Yin. Alone for five days. 12 hours away from here.”

He finally carried the chosen clothes to the suitcase, neatly folding them and placing them inside, together with a couple more things.

“How am I supposed to let you go there when she’s weak and you are so easily triggered? It’s obvious, I’m coming with you.” He continued, looking up to smile at me before adding his finishing touches to the pretty artwork his suitcase was.

I bit my lower lip. He was right, after all.

“I’m not trying to babysit you. I want you to experience everything, to continue with your choice. But at least, if something does go wrong, you’re not alone in there.”

“Hyung I just-”

“I know. I can get too protective. If I do, you just tell me, and I will stop, okay?”

That was the best choice. Yoongi hyung had told me it would have been better for Jimin to come with me, but I didn’t want to burden him with that. However, there was no way I could persuade him not to come now, and it really made me feel better to know he would be there if I needed help. I quietly watched, hypnotized, as he closed the suitcase, his small hands executing every move perfectly. He strapped on the small tag with his name on it, the same he jealously treasured since the day he had bought it in fifth grade.

Jimin hyung was really something else. Perfect in every move, good at most things, cheerful, caring, neat, handsome. A little trooper, ready to do whatever had to be done. But I knew better than trust what I could see on the outside. He had all those qualities. But he was also exhausted. How could he always keep his composure like that? He had studied day and night to help me, cast his dreams aside and became a nurse, worked ten times as hard as everyone else. It hurt me to see him struggle in silence, suppress the migraines, and dismiss his exhaustion as sleepiness. How much willpower did he have? How much pain did he have to endure in silence, all alone? And now, again. We would have to leave tomorrow; he didn’t even question a single thing. He packed his bag and was ready to go. Had he ever thought about what he wanted rather than what was good for me? I kept wondering: was it okay for me to burden him with all of this?

“Hyung, but what about your migraines?”

He seemed uncomfortable at the mention of the topic.

“It’s been over a week Kook, I’m perfectly fine. No headaches whatsoever.”

He trotted over to the kitchen.

“When do we leave? Tomorrow, you said?” He shouted, rummaging through some cabinets.

“Yes- but what about the principal? Will he be okay with it?”

“I’ll talk with him, he knows just enough to understand you might need my support, he’ll be more than glad to let me go with you two…” He continued as he made his way back to the bedroom.

“Here.” he handed me a heavy bag. I curiously peeked in, trying to guess its contents.

“What’s in here hyung?”

“Food. Kimchi and soup. I know we used to have lunch together, but you know I’m focusing on Yin right now. You never cook properly for yourself, though, and you can’t survive just by eating ramen all day. Did you run out of banana milk too?”

“Ah- yes… I was thinking of buying it toda-” he vanished again, returning seconds later with four small cartons of banana milk, which he placed in my free hand.

“Here. Drink it all and stay healthy.”

I couldn’t help smiling. I lived right next to him; I was 25 by now, but since the day the hyungs had taken me in he had never stopped taking care of me. He was just two years older than me, but he acted like he was my dad or something. To be honest though, I couldn’t say I didn’t like being taken care of. All those small actions, from the cooking to his smiles, everything about him helped me get by and fill the void in my heart. Still, I understood he would have to live for himself one day. I couldn’t keep using his care and affection to get by, draining him. I had to find a way, find something that would heal my wound, and wouldn’t involve my hyungs. For how much I dreaded it, I knew I couldn’t force Jimin to stay into this prison. Since I had come to this conclusion, the times Jimin took care of me gained a bitter aftertaste. I cherished every single gesture of affection, knowing one day I would have to leave that daily comfort for Jimin’s own good.

“Someday, in the future” I promised myself. Someday, I would learn how to walk on my own again and finally set Jimin free.

Someday.

Chapter Text

Yin’s POV

It was the day. Somehow, I hadn’t felt so excited and nervous in years. What was wrong with me? It was just a literature convention, five days in a quaint village in the mountains, we would go and be back in the blink of an eye. Still, an unusual thrill hadn’t left my body ever since I opened my eyes this morning. Everything passed in a blur, from the moment I woke up to now, in the bus station, waiting in the sharp cold, five in the morning, air still dense with the night’s torpor and hidden memories. The creamy light of the streetlamps awoke remote, discolored mornings of my childhood. In the hazy gloom of dawn, I could make out my seven-year-old self, waiting in trepidation, a rucksack bigger than me heavy on my shoulders.

There I was: cheerfully hopping onto the massive bus filled with screaming children, ready to embark on a new school trip, excitement tingling down my spine, spreading like watercolors dropped in too much water. I had grown in stature and changed much. Was I even the same person as that naïve, blossoming child, unspoilt by the smudges of life? I didn’t know back then: or maybe I was too young to understand. I watched as the bus of my memories set off, fading in the distance.

Little girl, would you run off if I told you to do so? Would you understand?

A spell had been broken.

My naïve self disappeared with the golden light which had shone on my memories until a couple of minutes before. In the dim bus station, bitterness was what was left of my childhood. I looked around; it looked just like the old bus station in my hometown: same benches, same walls, same smell. Unscathed by the cunning erosion of time, the bus station seemed to be the only thing in the world that hadn’t changed, my only haven.

The bus stop was bustling with people from all schools and universities around Seoul. I didn’t particularly enjoy being amidst such chaos, but there wasn’t really much I could do about it. After what felt like an interminable search among a vague ocean of unknown faces, I finally spotted them: Jiminssi and Mr. Jeon, waving at me. I slowly made my way through the mass of chattering people, continuously murmuring ‘excuse me’s and ‘sorry’s almost as a mantra, until I finally reached them. They were quietly talking to each other, Jiminssi leaning on his suitcase.

It was the first time I had ever seen Jiminssi in casual attire. He wore his nurse uniform whenever I saw him: large pants, white shirt, and candid gown. So, when he showed up in skinny ripped jeans and a white shirt, beautiful long earrings to add a little sparkle, I was left stunned. Of course, I knew he was handsome before, but he truly knew how to enhance his insane body proportions, the shirt tugged in the pants revealing an incredibly petite waist. Mr. Jeon wasn’t less attractive either. He had more of a minimalistic style, going for plain shirt and trousers, the same clothes he wore every day at school. That simple, but also rather formal style really suited him well.

As the first rays of sun lit up the sleepy sky, we left our suitcases for the driver to handle and got on the bus. Walking in, the familiar, cozy atmosphere of long forgotten, yet sweet memories engulfed me, leading my heart into another dimension. Weren’t it for Jimin who asked me where I wanted to sit, I would have stood there forever, lost in blurry days of the past, soothed by lost lullabies.

I walked down to the last seats, looking back to Jiminssi and Mr. Jeon to make sure my choice of seats was fine with them. Not separating from them was an unspoken rule. I didn’t know anyone besides them, and I figured Jiminssi would have been calmer knowing he could keep an eye on me. Not eating had become a habit to me, I felt fine, or so I thought, and would sometimes forget I was actually sick and needed to work on my problem. Because of that, I figured I should have stuck with Mr. Jeon and Jiminssi as much as possible.

After some shuffling around and choosing our spots, we were finally ready to depart. From the backseats, the whole bus was visible. The small space was crammed with people cheerfully chattering, laughter invading every nook and cranny.

“Okay guys! Can you all please shut up?” a guy in the front desperately croaked in the microphone. No one seemed to pay attention to him, though.

“Guys… Hey! I need to-”

“Jungkookie… why don’t you go over there and do your thing? Like, help him out?” Jimin suggested.

Curiosity taking over me, I listened closely, trying to distinguish their voices in that roaring mess. I glanced at them, trying not to be caught staring, but too curious to avoid it. Mr. Jeon was ignoring Jiminssi. Holding a book in his hands, he carried on reading as if nothing had happened.

“Come on… It’ll make it easier for him. Besides, it’ll be a much quieter ride if people know you’re here.” Jiminssi insisted, pointing at Mr. Jeon’s book.

Ever since the moment he had begun reading, his eyes hadn’t left the first two lines of the page. It was impossible to concentrate in such chaos. I didn’t understand what Jiminssi was referring to, though. In which way would Mr. Jeon help? How would it make everyone stay quiet? After all, not many people in there knew him, so he couldn’t make use of his teacher status. He was young enough to look like a student here, and weren’t it for his attire, he would have probably passed for one. Eventually, he closed the book, an annoyed look on his face. He sighed in defeat, handing the book to Jimin, who handled it with the utmost care, probably knowing how much that book meant to him. Even when he came to school, he would take care of his books like they were delicate flowers to protect.

“Fine.”

Mr. Jeon muttered. He got up, tongue poking his cheek in annoyance. He moved in the man's direction in the front.

“Um… what is he gonna do?” I whispered, as Jiminssi proudly stared towards Mr. Jeon’s figure making its way through the crammed bus.

“Oh, you’ll see…” Jiminssi never took his eyes off Mr. Jeon. “Look closely.” As he spoke, a glimmer of excitement flashed in his attentive eyes.

Mr. Jeon calmly walked forward, people staring in awe, immediately going quiet as he passed them. By the time he had reached the front, the whole bus was in utter silence, watching his every move. He looked incredibly intimidating, eyes sharp, firing fulminating glares towards anyone who dared to even whisper. His demeanor was overall calm and composed, but his stare was cold and beyond scary. He poked his cheek once again, now looking at the middle-aged man who had previously attempted to speak. He murmured some words, impossible to hear clearly from the back, but that must have had a meaning similar to “May I?” judging from the fact that the man immediately handed him the small microphone, as if bewitched himself by Mr. Jeon’s charm.

Mr. Jeon once again turned to face the interminable rows of astonished faces.

“This is a trip to a literature convention, not to a zoo. I’d really appreciate it if you could tone it down and stop acting like kindergarten toddlers. Now, if you could please let- your name sir?-” he asked the man.

“Mr. Kim, right, if you could all let Mr. Kim speak, that would be great. Thank you.” He handed the microphone back to the stunned man and walked back amidst the diffused but quiet whispering. I had never seen that side of him. It was, indeed, quite scary and intimidating to say the least. As he sat back down, the guy in the front went back to what he was trying to do, becoming a stuttering mess in the process.

“You were great Kook, it’s always amazing.” Jiminssi whispered, as Mr. Jeon shyly smiled. “Come on hyung, it’s embarrassing.”

He got his book back from Jiminssi’s hands and went back to reading, in a now much calmer and quieter atmosphere.

“O-okay guys! So, it should take 10 hours or so to get there if we don’t encounter traffic down the road...”

A choir of groans. It seemed like nobody was willing to spend that much time in a crammed bus. People started complaining, their voice overstepping the one of the middle-aged man in the front, who quickly added:

“We’ll make a stop every 2 hours so that you can buy something to eat and all, don’t worry!” he went on talking about other information concerning the trip and the general schedule for the days. When he stopped speaking, I finally put my headphones on. I rested my back on the seat and stared out of the window, ecstatic about spending some time by myself. I loved school, but it could be really tiring, especially now that I had to deal with this problem of not eating. My energy levels were extremely low, and despite all my efforts I would always end up dozing off or feeling exhausted. Being on a bus with nothing to do really gave me space for what I loved the most: observing and imagining. I had 10 whole hours to unwind and take in everything I would see from the window, were it quaint towns, enormous cities, or peaceful thickets.

We departed. As the sun rose and stained the sky with hues of coral and gold, we passed through the frenzy streets of Seoul. Then, slowly, the bustle of the city subsided, giving way to smaller towns, greener grass, and quieter roads.

Jungkook’s POV

After my little act, I thought I would have been able to concentrate. But for some reason, for how much I loved the book, I couldn’t focus at all. Sighing in defeat, I put the book back in my bag and looked around. Everyone seemed to have found something to do, either reading, sleeping, chatting, or watching videos. Yin was listening to music gazed out of the window. Jimin was reading some sort of magazine, completely immersed in it, a sparkle of interest in his eyes. Bored, I poked his arm.

“Hyung?”

“Hmm?” he answered, his eyes glued to the pages as he flipped through them.

“What are you reading?”

“Oh, this?” He murmured, momentarily closing the magazine to show me the cover. “It’s about coffee shops, I really like their aesthetics”

“Oh, I didn’t know you liked them. I remember you mentioning dance as something you would have liked to continue, but coffee shops aesthetic? That’s new, isn’t it?”

He nodded, opening the magazine once again. “I didn’t know that either until a couple months ago. It’s true that I’m good at cooking, but I guess I had never even thought about it.”

“Look here. Isn’t that beautiful?” he murmured, pointing at an image of an elegant white counter with all sorts of delicious-looking cakes and pastries on display.

“Yeah, it does look good.”

He sighed, flipping through images of perfectly served coffees and frappes. They looked amazing, and I had no doubt: Jimin would definitely be able to recreate them or make them even more beautiful. The utmost care he put in every detail made me think that if he had ever wanted to open a coffee shop, he would surely make it.

“Jungkookie, when we get a free day, we absolutely have to visit all the best cafes in Seoul. I want to see them all.”

“All in one day?” I whined. I could already feel my stomach aching at the thought of the countless pastries Jimin would have shoved down my throat.

“Well… If not in one day, we could visit a couple every week… Like on Sundays?” He asked, a flicker I hadn’t seen in a long time appearing in his eyes.

“But I also have school, you know? I always have essays and assignments to mark”

“I forgot you’re a busy man these days. You’ve grown up so much.” Jimin pouted. But quickly, he regained his enthusiasm. “But it doesn’t matter. You can bring your essays with you and do that at the cafes”

“But wouldn’t that be boring for you, hyung?” He shrugged.

“Why would it be? I’ll look at the cafes, stuff my mouth with delicious food and rest. Isn’t it enough?”

I giggled at his answer.

“Besides,” he continued “I could help you mark those papers. Who knows, maybe by staying next to such a smart kid I’ll learn something too”

He ruffled my hair. “Come on, it’ll be good, we’ll have fun, I promise!” He chirped, eyes pleading.

“You know I don’t really enjoy going around that much, right?”

“Then I’ll drag you. It doesn’t matter, you’ll enjoy it, I’m sure.”

“And I’ll pay for it all.”

I arched an eyebrow.

“Maybe” he added.

“Deal?” he pleaded once again.

I sighed in defeat. “Deal.”

He smiled cheerfully and went back to the magazine, humming the words “we’re gonna eat lots of cakes, and we’ll see beautiful placeees”

I chuckled. I wasn’t really keen on going out but seeing him so happy was truly heartwarming. I wished I could see him like that every day. Only now that I saw him so excited did I realize how different Jimin usually was. Always tender and caring, but much more... composed. It hurt me to realize he endured everything with a smile, that he would lie to me telling me he was okay when he clearly was struggling to give up what he loved.

“But hyung,”

“Hmm?”

“Have you ever considered opening a coffee shop?”

“Me...?” he asked.

“Yes” I murmured. His reaction wasn’t exactly what I had expected. I just wanted to see that smile again.

“No way, how would I be able to do that… I barely have time for…” He bit his lip. Then he closed the magazine, looking at his hands.

“I don’t have the time nor the experience to do such a thing… And I’m a nurse. I belong here-”

“I think you would definitely make it, though. You’re good at cooking, you do everything with the utmost care and are so charming. Even if your coffee shop sucked, I bet the entire city would come anyway.” I insisted.

He playfully hit me. “Stop it. I wouldn’t be able to make it. And I would have to leave my job.”

“But-”

“I’m not willing to do that. I’ve become a nurse and I’m okay with it. This is who I am now, no going back.”

His voice was stern, almost mechanical. I bit my lip. A practiced answer. Just as fake as Namjoon’s. It hurt me to see him lie to himself. I wasn’t a child; I was perfectly aware that he had become a nurse to take care of me. He was the one who had always felt the guiltiest about what had happened to me. I was extremely grateful to have such a best friend, a big brother. But what about him? What about his aspirations? He wanted to dance, and he cast that dream away to stay by my side. He was even offered an expensive scholarship abroad in one of the world’s best dance academies. That was what would be commonly defined as a golden opportunity. And despite everything, he gave this chance up, focusing on studying something he wasn’t interested in, just to make sure I was okay. It had to be painful. He had cast his life away for me, and I was so blinded by my pain that I didn’t even realize it until I started getting better. He spent sleepless nights in agony, trying to decide what to do, and all I did was disappear for days on end, getting wasted in the worst areas of Seoul, starting fights with strangers, and getting hospitalized.

He could have left; he could have disappeared from my life and fulfilled his dream. And instead, he relentlessly studied, day and night, not stopping until he collapsed. He stopped dancing completely, and from then on just focused on what, in his opinion, “had to be done”.

And now what? Was he willing to throw another of his dreams away just to babysit me? He had done enough for me. His eyes were glimmering with excitement as he looked at that magazine. But as soon as I had mentioned the job, he got defensive.

“Hyung… how can you be okay with that?”

“With what?”

“With throwing your dreams away like that. You did that countless times already. You did that when it came to dancing too. Don’t you want to-”

“Jungkook please stop.”

“Why? Why do you keep avoiding the subject? Are you even happy right now? The migraines and all, why are you doing all this to yourself?”

“Jungkook.”

“Hyung, I’m worried about you, you never do anything for yourself. If only you would tell me what you truly feel-”

“Don’t cross the line.” He growled, clutching my wrist.

A chill ran down my spine. Jimin was glaring at me with cold eyes, jaw clenched. It scared me. His eyes shouted everything he didn’t have the strength to put into words: I could see all the agony, the fear, the anger, and the hopelessness. On his quivering lips, a voiceless plea to stop the suffering.

I immediately shut up, looking down at my lap. The atmosphere was tense, and I felt awful. Those aggressive words stung my heart. I could sense his burning stare, eyes watering at the thought I had hurt my hyung with my careless words. I had to make it up, but I didn’t know how. I opened my mouth, but I couldn’t think of anything to say. My hand trembled under his fierce grip. When Jimin noticed it, he immediately let go.

“I-I’m sorry. I d-didn’t want to hurt you.” I stuttered, almost scared I would make him even more angry, and desperate to make it up.

“I’m…sorry too. I didn’t mean to grab you like that. Are you okay?”

I nodded uncomfortably.

“Just-please, let’s not talk about this.” Jimin hesitantly stuttered, his voice coming out in a mere whisper. For a moment, I glanced at his face: he was biting his lips, hard enough to draw blood, tears threatening to spill from his pained eyes.

“I won’t ask you again. I’m sorry…”

I felt guilty. It was probably hard enough for him to keep going like that, and instead of doing something to ease his burden, I had brought everything up, even dancing. How had I come up with such a stupid idea? I should have just been grateful and shut up. Instead, I made him suffer even more. I stood there, not knowing what to do with myself, until our first stop was announced. We got off the bus, and luckily, Jimin seemed to be okay. He looked calmer and had regained his usual cheerful attitude. We finally moved a couple of steps, our legs already sore from all the sitting down.

Yin followed us out of the bus. When we had departed, in the morning's sleepiness, I hadn’t noticed what she was wearing. Converse shoes, beige shorts, and a white pretty blouse. She had her hair tied in a high ponytail, small earrings pending from her ears. Her legs were so skinny. She never dressed like this in school, so it came a bit as a shock to me.

“Jungkook? Let’s go eat something.” Jimin called me. “Yin? are you coming with us?”

She smiled and politely shook her head at Jimin’s request. “I’ll just go to the bathroom, thanks.” She then quickly left; cheeks slightly flushed.

“She’s very skinny. You noticed too, right?” Jimin murmured. He wrapped an arm around my back and started walking towards the gas station. “I know it can be difficult, and that you’re worried…” he continued. “… but let’s try not to look at her too much like that. It must be uncomfortable enough for her. She’s been brave enough to put on shorts when the first time you brought her to me, she just wanted to cover up as much as possible and vanish.”

“Right… I didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. I’ll try to be more careful.”

We bought some coffee and some snacks, and we sat on a bench, breathing in the fresh air.

“Hyung…” I tentatively spoke. “I’m sorry about what happened before. I shouldn’t have invaded your privacy like that.”

He sighed. “It’s okay kook. I’m fine now, so don’t worry. I was a bit on edge and overreacted.” He murmured. “But is your wrist, okay?”

I looked at it, and smiled, moving it to show to him it was fine. “I’m not hurt; I’m stronger than that”

He giggled. “By the way… how are you holding up so far?” he murmured, stuffing his mouth. “I mean with the Yin situation and all… Are you feeling uneasy or something?”

I shrugged. “I guess I’m fine as of now. I was just a bit shocked before, I had almost forgotten about… the illness…”

“Well, that’s good. Just take care of yourself, Kook-ah.” He patted my back, tenderly looking at me. He stared at his watch. “It’s better if we go back to the bus, Yin will be waiting for us.” He got up, and I followed him back.

Four hours into the trip, we had all begun feeling the exhaustion of waking up so unusually early. As the excitement of the departure subsided, people gradually became quieter and quieter, until silence filled the crammed bus, the only sound being the occasional movement or the stirring of someone. In between the pauses we had switched up, not really paying attention to how we were sitting. I kept reading my book, immersed in what I was reading. Next to me, Jimin was soundly asleep, all his lineaments finally distended. A well-earned rest, I reckoned, after all he had done for us.

And with “us” I meant me and... Yin.

As I turned towards her, I noticed she was dozing off, phone still in her hands. I realized she was going to drop it, so I gently slid it out of her hands together with the headphones and placed it in her purse. She almost woke up for a second but didn’t seem to realize what was going on. She blankly stared at me, dazed.

“Why did you drink again?”

“W-what…?”

I thought she was talking to me, but when she laid her head in my lap with furrowed brows, I realized she was fast asleep. I waved a hand in front of her just to be sure, and as expected she didn’t react. What did she say? Drinking? Yin seemed to be having a nightmare of some sort, hands clenched into fists, her brow still furrowed. Trying to ease her pain, I instinctively brushed a hand over her cheek in what I hoped was a comforting way. The worry slowly subsided as she gradually calmed down and continued sleeping. I smiled, looking at her. Suddenly, a mixture of tenderness and warmth washed over me. Puzzled, I froze in my spot, taking my hand away. I stared at Yin, peacefully sleeping on my lap.

“Calm down Jungkook.” I repeated to myself. But my heart wouldn’t stop pounding in my chest. “What’s wrong with you today? What are you doing? There’s no reason to be anxious, so why do you feel like you can’t breathe?”

Would I have felt better if I had moved away? Did I just need space? I glanced towards Jimin in search of help, but I was quickly reminded he was sleeping, and that I had bothered him enough already. It wasn’t like I could wake up both Jimin and Yin just because I was feeling weird. I couldn’t think straight: I just wished for the next stop to come quickly, so that I would have to wake them up with a reasonable excuse, and I could get out of that situation. But time didn’t seem to collaborate. I constantly stared at the electronic clock in the bus's front. The numbers were slow to change, and when they did, it took an eternity. I stood there, as still as I could, growing uneasy and tired, trying to distract myself by reading. But the words on the page didn’t make any sense to me: they floated in my head as an incomprehensible gibberish of letters.

I wondered if I was going crazy.

As a last resort, I decided to message Yoongi hyung. 

And like that, I waited, dazed by Yoongi hyung’s words.

The same uneasiness lingered in my heart, but I felt better since Yoongi knew what was wrong with me, although I couldn’t really understand it myself. I waited and waited, the clock ticking painfully slow. I tried to distract myself by looking out of the window, but every time I tried to do so, my gaze fell on the sleeping girl, and my heart exploded with confusing feelings. I finally gave up and closed my eyes, letting the sound of the bus lull me. An eternity later, the much anticipated and besought croaking of the microphone was heard. Everyone stirred and yawned. Yin sat up and rubbed her eyes. I wondered if she remembered anything of what had happened.

“Kook... didn’t you sleep?” Jimin groggily murmured.

I confusedly stared at him; the internal turmoil still storming inside me. Yin was awake now, but the memory of her peacefully leaning on me was still too vivid in my mind. Was I going crazy? I could still feel her faint breath. I could still perceive her delicate cheeks with my fingertips, as if she were still there, sleeping peacefully as I caressed her worries away. Trying to get those memories out of my head, I shook my head. What was I thinking?

“Hey… everything alright?” Jimin murmured, shaking me from my thoughts. “You’re sweating…” he continued as I stared at him, lost and dazed.

“I-I’m fine, I just need a bit of fresh air.” I finally murmured, wobblingly making my way out of the vehicle. I could perceive Jimin’s worried stare following me. As Yin excused herself to the bathroom, I sat down on the rim of the opened luggage compartment with a thump, finally letting out a breath I didn’t even know I was holding in. Offering me a snack, Jimin sat down next to me.

“Gguk-ah, what’s wrong? You’re making me worry.”

I sighed, venting all my frustration on the chocolate bar.

“I feel better now… But… when we get back on there, can we… exchange seats?”

Jimin tilted his head in confusion. “Um… I mean… okay. Is it memories from the past?”

I shook my head. But as he kept staring at me, waiting for an answer, I took out my phone. I was too tired and confused to explain the situation all over again. It was embarrassing to show him my panicked conversation with Yoongi hyung, but he deserved to know.

“Flustered…?” He murmured, reading the last texts. He finally handed me my phone back, wanting an explanation I couldn’t provide him with.

I leaned back on the pile of suitcases behind me. “Hyung… I don’t know…” I exclaimed in frustration. “I have no idea what Yoongi hyung is talking about. Maybe I’m just uneasy because of the situation or… yeah.”

Jimin worriedly played with the hem of his jacket, biting his bottom lip, eyebrows furrowed, lost into his thoughts.

“But hyung…” I continued, placing a hand on his, stopping his nervous movements. “Let’s not think about it too much. I’m okay now…”

“You could have woken me up. I had no idea you were going through all that… alone.”

“Don’t even think about that, hyung.” I hugged him.

“You’ve done enough for me already. And you were sleeping so peacefully… how could I do that to you?” As I backed from the embrace, I noticed the frown on Jimin’s brow had finally disappeared.

“Alright then. We’ll exchange seats. But please, tell me if something’s wrong this time, hmm?”

I nodded, relieved that my heart had calmed down a bit, and that I wasn’t alone in this anymore. Not long after, Yin came back, and we all hopped onto the bus again, ready to continue with the long trip. As the lengthy hours slowly passed by, I tried not to think about what had happened, although the doubts and turmoil would sometimes come back, temporarily casting a gloomy and menacing shadow over my mind. And that wouldn’t go unnoticed. Jimin’s attentive eyes were always checking on me, and when uneasiness crept back on my body, Jimin would immediately link hands with me, offering me a silent and discrete way to calm down without Yin or anyone else noticing.

“Look over there! I think we’ve finally arrived!” Jimin exclaimed. The croaking of the microphone confirmed our interminable trip had indeed come to an end. The convention was to take place in a town set in a narrow dale flanked and protected by beautiful rocky mountains, towering over everything with their mighty stature. As soon as we hopped off the bus, the brisk air filled my lungs.

“Okay! So, everyone please gather around me!” the middle-aged man shouted. “Take all your luggage and come here! I’m handing the keys for the rooms!” groups of chattering teenagers gathered around him, paying little to no attention. It was around 3:45 pm, everyone was exhausted and hungry, the chocolate bars bought in the gas stations not even close to enough to satisfy us.

“As soon as you get your key, you can go to your room and rest. Dinner’s at six, so make sure to come to the main hall on time. After dinner we’ll give you a more detailed program of the upcoming days.”

Chapter Text

External POV

“Room 348! Park Jimin, Jeon Jungkook, Kim Yin.” Surprised, Jungkook and the girl stared as Jimin trudged through the dense jungle of chattering people and suitcases without owners.

“All three together?” Jimin thought to himself as he retrieved the key. “This is going to be a mess.”

When he got back to his roommates, he and Jungkook exchanged quick glances, a look of resignation on Jimin’s face. There was nothing that could be done, anyway. They walked into the hotel, searching for their room. Unbeknownst to the two boys, the girl was panicking. If she was nervous before, she was on the verge of a heart attack now. Could it be worse? Yes, of course, she knew the two men and could wholeheartedly trust them, but although she had gotten pretty relaxed around Jimin, it was a whole different story with her teacher. A mix of admiration, timid respect and not being able to separate him from his role had led her to be an awkward mess in front of him. What was the room going to look like? Would it be a crammed space with little to no privacy? They walked through the corridors, the fitted carpets muffling their steps, so much so that their heartbeats were louder. Jungkook walked behind Jimin, almost wishing they would never find the room. At every corner they turned, his heart would jump, a sense of dread invading him, the unsettling anxiety constricting his stomach. Never mind the hunger, he thought. The copious awfully sweet chocolate bars he had ingested during the trip would have already been enough to make him sick, but now he wished he had choked on them rather than being there.

“How am I going to make this work out?” Jimin thought to himself. Just 4 hours before, Jungkook had panicked just by sitting next to the girl. He was unpredictable, and Jimin had no idea how he would cope with staying in the same room as her. They turned another corner and there it was: room 348, the numbers embossed on a gilded metal plate and painted in black. He slid the key in the lock.

“Here goes nothing” he thought, and after shakingly breathing in, he opened the door. It wasn’t exactly what they were expecting. They walked in, looking around, curious.

“Wow... It’s so big...” Yin murmured.

It was much more spacious than what they had imagined: it looked more like an apartment than a hotel room. There were three large beds: two of them at the sides of the room, separated from the rest of the room by heavy crimson curtains that could be pulled for added privacy. The third bed was in the center of the room, its headboard leaning against the wall opposite the entrance. Next to it, a sliding glass door which led to a balcony.

“Is there a bathroom also on the other side?” Jimin asked, head peeping out of a nook on the left side of the room.

“Yes, here too.” Yin answered from the other side.

“I had no idea there could be such rooms in a hotel,” Jungkook absently mumbled, passing his fingers on the rough knitted curtains. If he were to see those in another setting, he would have thought of them as awfully extravagant and of poor taste, but they oddly fitted well with the much simpler style of the other elements in the room. Once the windows were open, fresh air came rushing in. Jungkook closed his eyes. An earthy, musky smell flooded the room, transforming it into a dense forest. He felt rejuvenated, as if he were laying on the spongy undergrowth, listening to the sparrows’ mellow themes.

“We’re lucky. Yin, which bed would you prefer?” Jimin finally asked.

“M-me?”

“Yes. Choose first.”

The girl glanced to one side, then to the other.

“Ah... then... I’ll take this one, thanks” Eyes glued to the ground, she shyly tiptoed to the right side of the room, immediately unpacking her clothes, purposefully avoiding looking back.

“What about you, Kook?”

“Hmm?”

“Which bed?” Jimin poked him, stirring him from his confused state.

“Um... this’ll be fine” he pointed at the other bed on the left, waiting for his hyung’s response.

“I’ll take the middle one, then” Jimin exclaimed, tiredly flopping onto it.

“It’s soooo soft!” He sighed; the freshly washed bedsheets muffled his voice.

Just then, Jimin’s phone buzzed. Lazily, he reached for it in its back pocket and checked it. Who could it be now all of a sudden?

Yoongi hyungie

Jimin, can we talk? I really need to tell you something about Jungkook.

The boy would have much preferred to call him later, so that he could rest a bit and organize all his stuff. But he knew what was best: as always, he had learned to do first the things that had to be done rather than what he wished to do.

“A bad message? Who is it?” Jungkook asked, head curiously peeking out of the curtain next to his bed. His clothes were already laid on the sheets, neatly organized and ready to be put into the wooden drawers next to him.

“I have to make a phone call. I’ll fix my stuff as soon as I come back. We still have time, right?”

“Yep, take your time. We have around two hours before dinner.” The younger boy went back to arranging what looked like ten completely identical shirts. “Do you want me to do it for you?”

“It’s okay Kook, it shouldn’t be a lengthy call. I’ll be back soon. I’ll take this opportunity to explore the town a bit.”

“Okay, see you later, then.”

“Bye…” Yin suddenly murmured, the two boys jumping.

She had been a silent presence for the last minutes, so much so that they had almost forgotten she was there. They had to be cautious, Jimin reminded himself, or else they could end up talking about her issues right in front of her, which wouldn’t be nice and would also be counterproductive. After recovering from the initial scare, Jimin gave the girl a tender smile.

“You startled me. If you need something, just ask Jungkookie, he’ll be right here.” Jimin murmured. Then, looking at the two of them, he waved the key in the air.

“I’m leaving that here. I’ll ask for a copy at the reception so that we can have a bit more independence.”

“Great. See you later hyung.”

“See ya.”

As soon as the door was closed, awkwardness reigned supreme. Yin and the boy remained there, paralyzed, each of them on their side of the room, staring at the door immersed in the thick silence. Had the air suddenly gotten stuffier? After a second of dazed confusion, Yin went back to organizing her stuff. She put everything in order, sighing in satisfaction as she admired her work of art and high-level engineering. Carrying a worn backpack loaded with pens, block notes and textbooks to the desk next to the door, she inadvertently dropped a few things. Focused on her task of reorganizing the backpack that had gotten messy during the trip, she failed to notice that Jungkook had come to pick up the books she had dropped. The boy had intended to just give them back, but his eyes caught something, and he couldn’t keep his curiosity at bay. A small notebook laid flat on the ground, brimmed with small post-it notes sticking out of it in every direction. From what Jungkook could see, the notebook contained scribbled, messy annotations, which must have been her writings. Next to it stood a larger book, worn by constant use, pages bleached by sun and dampened by abrupt summer storms. Given that Jungkook handled his books with the utmost care, he instantly scrunched his nose at the sight of what looked like a mishandled mess. But as he held it in his hands and passed his fingers over the cupped hard cover and the wrinkly pages, the realization hit him: that “mess”, as he had initially thought of it, felt alive, way more than any book he had ever owned. It wasn’t a simple object: it was overflowing with secret memories Jungkook couldn’t see, although he could perceive all the life that those pages had been spectators of. The faded title was illegible, but it didn’t take him much to recognize what it was about. On the first page, surrounded by an interminable ocean of annotations, there it stood, the original words, still incredibly clear amidst the chaos:

“Three Rings for the Elven Lords under the Sky Seven for the Dwarf Lords in their halls of Stone...”

“The Lord of the Rings” He murmured, getting up and handing it back to the girl together with the notebook.

“That’s a fantastic book. Are you reading it in the original language?”

Cheeks slightly flushed, the girl nodded and quickly retrieved the books with shaky hands.

“Yes. It was hard at first, but as I went on it got easier and easier. It’s filled with descriptive language and astonishing images. I love it because that’s what I struggle the most with when I write”

“Really? But it seems like you’re good at that, though. At least to me.”

The girl pursed her lips to hide the smile that had immediately materialized at her teacher’s praise.

“Ah, thank you...” She glued her eyes to the book. She was sure she was going to die if she looked up.

“When I write, I see vivid images in my head of what I want to describe. It’s like watching a movie, but it’s me that decides what’s going on and the general setting. I always feel like I can’t perfectly put down on paper what I see in my head, so... this book really helps.”

She delicately passed a hand over the worn book, fondness invading her heart as the rough surface brought back all the memories it was carrying, glued to the ink and to the single words.

“Besides,” -she continued- “It’s filled with analogies from the real world, and the characters are authentic. With all their flaws, and struggles. Life isn’t perfect for anyone, and this book portrays it perfectly. Everyone must fight their battle, and nobody else can do it for them. But they can be helped by people dear to them, that might give them the strength to go on.”

For the first time since the beginning of the conversation, Yin looked up, and stared directly into Jungkook’s eyes. As she spoke, her eyes had changed, rich and intense, glimmering with the most authentic gratitude and joy.

“The choice is never ultimately taken away from them, nor the responsibility. There’s no space for perfect people or effortless tasks in this story, and that’s an invaluable worth that couldn’t be praised even through millions of words.”

Jungkook was completely stunned. The girl had barely uttered a couple words throughout the entire day, and now there she was, easily disclosing her opinion on the book, eyes sparkling with a new light.

“That’s true,” Jungkook murmured. “It’s a book that, despite being written in the 1900s, still manages to touch our hearts and to give us life and courage to carry on. With the extensive production of books nowadays, it’s common to come across books that tackle some aspects of human nature. But the masterpieces that manage to hold the totality of all that exists in it, good and evil, fear and courage, humbleness and arrogance, pity, and mercilessness, are indeed rare. The stories that fit the entire world in them could probably be counted on the fingers of a hand and are often centuries apart. They’re like precious gems, often hidden deep under mountains of other stories, lying dormant unbeknownst to most people, waiting to be discovered by someone who might understand their worth.”

Jungkook was totally immersed in the conversation, barely aware of his surroundings. They went on and on discussing books, expressing their immense wonder and amazement towards the gift of writing, to be able to convey everything, making the reader capable of experiencing the story on a deeper level. For the first time in days, Yin felt genuinely overjoyed, filled with a warmth she couldn’t explain. All the previous awkwardness had melted away, leaving only space for admiration and fond words. She had never talked about those things with her friends; they weren’t usually interested. This time, however, she felt like on the other side was a soul that she could connect with, a heart that shared the same respectful admiration for writing and literature, and that could teach her so much more. Never had she felt so alive in her whole life, everything feeling more real and beautiful, her heart raced, demanding to be set free from the constriction of her ribcage, too swollen with joy to be confined in such a small space. Without even realizing, the minutes rapidly went by, breath after breath, heartbeat after heartbeat, word after word. When Jimin opened the door with his spare key an hour later, they were still in the same spot, Yin tenderly holding the books in her hands.

“Hello.” Jimin murmured, looking around with the awkward impression he had interrupted something.

“Hi hyung. H-how was the call? I-I mean, -the town! The town, yeah…” Jungkook stuttered, fumbling with the hem of his shirt.

“I better finish organizing my stuff…” Yin murmured, stiffly walking to her bed with her rucksack.

A sense of gratefulness flooded her when she noticed the heavy curtain was sheltering her from the two men’s eyes. All shaky and fidgety, she sat on the bed and took all her stuff out of the rucksack. But all her organization skills seemed to have disappeared, and she stared at the mess of books, pens and other clutter piled up on her bed, not knowing what to do. She felt flustered as if she had been caught doing something she was not supposed to. But what was wrong with talking about literature with a literature teacher? Weren’t they there for that specific reason? Wasn’t she allowed to talk with him? Then why were her cheeks so warm to the touch? Why did she feel awkward all of a sudden?

“Right…” Jimin murmured, scanning Jungkook’s face in search of a sign to decipher the situation. The younger boy was standing there, nervously shifting his weight from one foot to another, avoiding eye contact like a child caught red-handed stealing candies.

“The town is quite beautiful Kook-ah.” Jimin absently mumbled. He then tapped the younger’s shoulder, who finally looked up, a sense of uncertainty and daze in his eyes. After his talk with Yoongi, the suspects were growing on him. He was worried Jungkook was going to react in the same way as that morning, as he looked equally flushed and uneasy.

“You okay?” he mouthed, so that the girl wouldn’t hear them. Jungkook nodded, lowering his eyes once again.

“Why don’t you go see it for yourself? The view is spectacular. We still have an hour before dinner.” Jimin then continued.

“Ah…” Jungkook murmured, rubbing his neck. “I think I’ll do that tomorrow. The bus ride really drained me; I’ll just rest for a bit.”

“Okay, Kook.” Jimin smiled, patting Jungkook’s back.

-------------------------

Jungkook’s POV

At dinner time, we finally walked down to the main hall, a swarm of people rushing inside as soon as the doors were opened. As we finally got in, a waiter led us to a table with our room number. We all sat down and looked at the menus.

“Um- Jiminssi...” Yin whispered, barely audible.

Jimin put the paper down. “Yes?”

“Uhm... I don’t think I can handle eating any of the food on the menu...” Cheeks tainted with a shade of bright pink, she nervously fiddled with the thin ring hanging from her neck on a small silver chain.

Jimin squeezed my hand to make sure I was okay. I squeezed it back, reassuring him. It had absolutely slipped from my mind amidst the confusion and excitement of the day. She still couldn’t eat properly. Thinking back on it, I didn’t think I had seen her eat at all during the day. In our room Jimin had offered her some grapes, maybe? But taking a better look at her, she now seemed really pale and tired.

“Ah, don’t worry about that. I’ve already talked with the staff. They’ll prepare a light soup.”

“Thank you...”

“But please, eat it as much as you can, you still haven’t eaten today. How are you feeling?”

She looked down, unsure what to say. Was she embarrassed because of my presence? She didn’t really look comfortable.

“It’s okay Yin, just tell us if you’re feeling too weak or tired. If it’s something else that can wait, then I think you’ll be more comfortable if you’re with Jimin alone. I was planning to take a walk later anyway, so...”

She seemed relieved by my words. “Thank you. I’m okay right now.” she smiled. Soon after, a waiter passed by with a bottle of wine in hand. “Do you want some-”

“Ah no thank you, we’re fine with water” Jimin cut him off abruptly. I mentally thanked Jimin for all he was doing for us. He knew I had problems with alcohol in the past. The dinner went on pretty smoothly, Yin slowly ate her soup, growing slightly uncomfortable at every spoonful. Was it always so hard for her to eat? My heart ached at that, but I tried to avoid the thoughts, just to make sure I wouldn’t panic. Yoongi had told me not to escape and not to avoid thoughts, but I figured I’d do that once I was back home, in the safety of my city. I didn’t want to cause trouble for Jimin here. As we were almost finished, a young waiter was passing by and, slipping, he accidentally spilled some kind of champagne on the table. He immediately apologized and quickly rushed away. I didn’t think it was serious, but then I noticed Yin nervously wiping her hands with the napkin. Her hands were shaking as she did so. Our eyes met for an instant. Was it fear I saw in her eyes?

“Are you-”

“Guys, quiet down, please! I’m going to give you the program for the next two days. Tomorrow at 9 pm we’ll be going to…”

I ignored the man and looked back at the girl. In the meantime, she had hidden her hands under the table and looked uncomfortable. I hoped Jimin was listening to the schedule because I surely wasn’t. Impatient, I wished for the announcements to end quickly. When it was finally over, Yin still looked uncomfortable, and I noticed she was rubbing her right wrist, hands still shaking. I wanted to ask her if she was okay, but I couldn’t muster up enough courage to do so. Jimin was way more qualified than me if she needed help. Who was I to intrude in her personal matters? We walked back into the hotel room in a deafening silence. I eyed Jimin. Did he really not notice anything with Yin? But as I looked at him, he was still focused on carefully examining the paper that they had handed out at the exit of the hall, containing the schedule for our next days. As soon as I opened the door, Yin flung herself to her side of the room and locked herself up in the bathroom. Only then did Jimin seem to notice that something was wrong. I dragged him to the other side as he stared at me in confusion.

“What’s wrong Kook-”

“Shhh!”

“Hyung, didn’t you notice it?” I whispered impatiently.

“What?”

“Yin.” I pointed at the bathroom door. “She’s been acting weird since the moment that waiter spilled the wine on her.”

“Did it get on her? I didn’t notice.”

“She was furiously wiping her hands which were shaking, and then she kept rubbing her right wrist. Could she be hurt?”

Jimin eyed the door.

“Why would she react that way? It’s just wine-”

“I think I know why.”

Jimin stared at me with all seriousness. He glanced back at the door once again.

“Then talk.”

I sighed. “I- When she fell asleep on me this morning, I think she had a nightmare. She mumbled some words; I think they were something like: ’did you drink again?’”

Jimin’s eyes widened in shock.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he whisper-yelled

“With all that had happened, I-I forgot I-”

Jimin put a hand on my shoulder, sighing. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to blame on you. Let’s just focus on Yin, okay?”

“Why don’t we go check on her hyung??” I impatiently asked.

“Calm down. Let’s not be too invasive. If she doesn’t come out in 10 minutes, we will knock.”

He was calm and composed. I was sure he was worried too but having handled similar situations with me so many times, he probably knew what to do.

“But- hyung, do you think she has some trauma with alcohol? Her hands were shaking like crazy.”

“From what you told me; she must have had bad experiences with that. Why else would she be so uncomfortable with that? But maybe it’s nothing serious. I’m more worried about the wrist. You said she kept rubbing it, right?”

“Yes.”

“We might not have noticed it, but she could have gotten hurt some way.”

“I hope she’s okay” I sighed, flopping on the bed, head in my hands.

Jimin sat next to me. “Kook…” He gently patted my head, concern written all over his face. “What about you? Can you handle it?” Only then, barely lifting my head, I saw my reflection in the mirror on the other side of the room. I was a mess, sweat glistening on my forehead, my shirt all crumpled, hair ruffled and messy. “Oh. Yeah, I’m… I’m just a bit worried.”

Jimin rubbed my back in apprehensive circles. Although the fear did not subside, I felt comforted by his care. Even in such a tense situation, he still found time to worry for my wellbeing. How could he be so calm? How could he find the strength to comfort someone else when I was there nervously tapping my feet on the ground, already feeling the incoming shortness of breath?

“Kook ah. Stop avoiding my gaze.”

His caring eyes met mine. “You don’t have to stay here if it’s too hard. Why don’t you take a walk? It’ll calm you down”

“But I want to stay here.”

“What if you panic? I can’t possibly take care of both of you at the same time. Okay, I’m experienced and all, but I’m human too.”

I bit my lip. “How am I supposed to calmly take a walk knowing what could be going on in there?” I replied, pointing at the door which still, remained locked.

Jimin sighed in defeat. “Fine. You can stay here, but you must promise me you’ll calm down now. There’s no reason to panic. Whatever is going on with Yin, I’m going to take care of it, okay? Don’t act too worried or we might even agitate her more.”

“Okay hyung.”

When Jimin was sure I wasn’t going to go crazy, after glancing one last time to his watch, he got up. I was about to follow him, but he stopped me, tightly squeezing my hand as if to give me strength. “Stay here. I’ll call you if I need help.”

“Okay”

A step, two, three and there he was, in front of the door. He knocked.

“Yin” He glanced back at me as she didn’t answer.

“Yin, darling, it’s me Jimin. Is everything alright in there?”

Silence.

Worry started to appear on Jimin’s face. He was about to knock for a third time when he heard something. His eyes widened. I didn’t hear though; I was too far. Instinctively I got up, but Jimin immediately gestured me to stay where I was, mouthing “I got it”.

“Yin? Sweetheart, would you open the door for me?” He murmured with a mellow and reassuring tone.

After some time, with a click the door finally opened, just enough for Jimin to slip in. The door quickly closed behind him, and I was left there, staring at the empty room, worry eating me from the inside out.

----------------------------

External POV

Jimin entered the small bathroom. The girl’s hands were still shaky and now also red from too much washing. As Jimin quickly assessed the situation, he noticed that it wasn’t only her hands to be shaking; she was indeed all trembling. Her chest rapidly heaved up and down as her eyes remained glued to her arms. Just by looking, Jimin could recognize the signs of an incoming panic attack. She flinched when Jimin placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Hey… is everything alright?”

The girl didn’t answer, and she wouldn’t stop trembling. This was going to degenerate quickly if he didn’t do something.

“Okay. Why don’t we go sit on your bed? I’ll have Jungkookie prepare you a cup of tea. Is that okay?”

She nodded, still not daring to look up. She wobbled out of the bathroom, Jimin walking closely just to make sure she was okay. Jungkook, who had been walking back and forth for the last five minutes, had to refrain himself from running to them as soon as he heard the door opening.

“Kook-ah.”

“Yes?”

Jimin helped the girl sit on the bed, wrapping a warm blanket around her. “Can you prepare some tea?”

“O-of course.”

“You can use the tea bags I brought with me. They’re in that bag over there.”

Jungkook hesitated for a second, his eyes falling on the pale girl, who was still trembling. Jimin reassured him again with a warm smile, and he finally went to prepare the tea, slightly drawing the curtain to give them some privacy. As he got everything ready, he overheard Jimin softly talking to the girl.

“You feel like there isn’t enough space in your chest for you to breathe properly, right?”

“Do you know the 4-7-8 breathing technique? I’ll teach you. It’s extremely useful. Sit up as straight as you can. You can close your eyes if you want”

Jungkook smiled at that. He remembered how many times it had saved him from incoming anxiety attacks. He knew it by heart:

“Start counting. Breath in for four seconds, one, two, three, four. Then hold your breath for seven... good, just like that, and then breathe out for 8 seconds. You’re doing great.”

As Jungkook waited for the tea to be ready, he closely listened.

“Did you get hurt? Is your wrist okay…?”

“I’m… okay.”

He finally walked over to the girl. He sat down next to her and carefully handed the cup to the girl, who whispered an almost inaudible “thank you” before taking the drink in her trembling hands. For a while, he debated whether he should stay there or give her space. He wholeheartedly wanted to help her, make sure she was okay, but what if his presence made her uncomfortable? Jimin worriedly eyed him, trying to read his poker face. Eventually, Jungkook decided to step back. Jimin was already there, there was no need for him. His heart wanted otherwise, but it wasn’t the right time to do what he wanted.

He got up. “Hyung, I think I’ll leave you two alone for a bit. I’m going to take a brief walk but call me if you need anything.”

“Okay. Thank you Jungkook. See you later”

Jungkook slid on a random jacked and left the room, taking the spare key with him. Jimin eyed him as he made his way out of the room, praying for him to be okay. At first, he had hoped Jungkook would leave, but now that he was actually gone, he felt nervous. What if he panicked again? He would never forgive himself if something happened to him. But he figured worrying wouldn’t lead him anywhere. He had to focus on Yin now, that was the only thing he could do. When he noticed Yin had stopped shaking, he finally spoke.

“I won’t ask you to explain anything you’re not comfortable with. But if there’s a reason for the way you’re feeling now, if there’s something that triggers you, please tell me, so that we can avoid it from now on.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to make you worry. I’m- I’m fine now. I get nervous around alcohol. I’ve had… unpleasant experiences with that.”

The boy cupped her delicate hands with his own, gently comforting her and soothing her skin.

“Okay. No worries. This was an unfortunate accident, but I promise you we won’t have any alcohol around us from now on. Jungkookie doesn’t like it either.”

She nodded. Jimin looked at her, relieved that she looked calmer.

He glanced at his clock. “We’ve been awake for a lot of hours now. It’s best if we sleep.”

She nodded, getting up. “I’ll go change then.”

She was walking towards the bathroom when Jimin stopped her by gently pulling her hand.

“What about food? Was it okay? Was it too uncomfortable to eat in front of Jungkook?”

She shook her head. “I’m still struggling a bit, but I’m okay. I hope I’m not a burden to you and Mr. Jeon. I know watching me eat so painfully slow must be annoying.”

“Not at all. Don’t even think about that. What’s important is that you feel okay with that. We’re not bothered, I assure you.”

“I’m really grateful for all the support you’re giving me. I’m… I’ll go change.” The girl excused herself and tiredly walked into the bathroom.

Jimin flopped onto his bed and messaged Jungkook.

Changing into his pajama, he kept thinking back to that conversation with Yoongi. Was it normal for Jungkook to be so worried for the girl? Maybe he was just overthinking: Jungkook was a caring type, and the girl was one of his best students. She was suffering from the same disorder that had claimed his brother’s life. It would have been heartless not to be worrying for her. Yes, maybe he was just overreacting, he told to himself. He should focus on making sure they were okay, nothing more. There was enough work to do already, worrying about something that might happen in the future wasn’t really an option as of now. He was extremely tired and just wished to flop on the bed and pass out until morning. But he decided to wait until Jungkook would come back. He had to know if he was okay; he had to make sure nothing bad happened.

Not long after, Yin went to bed, and Jungkook came back too. To his relief, he seemed calm. Jimin only abandoned himself to a much-needed sleep after seeing both Yin and Jungkook had finally gone to bed.

Chapter Text

External POV

As Yoongi walked up to the entrance of the building that led into his studio, his phone buzzed in his pocket.

“Whatever,” he thought, “I’ll check that later on.” He inserted the key in the rusty lock, balancing his coffee and his bag in his free hand as he tried to force the door open.

“Dammit, why isn’t it working again?” He took out the key and inserted it back again, adjusting it, hoping that would make it work.

But the phone wouldn’t stop buzzing. After a minute of desperate attempts, he gave up on trying to open the rusty door. He put his coffee down together with his case and took his phone out, kicking the door out of sheer spite. As if the door had been playing a joke on him, it burst open, letting out a creaky laugh. Yoongi rolled his eyes in annoyance. “I’ll have to call the landlord to fix this damned door. I can’t spend days on end trying to get into my studio.”

He was about to take his stuff and head inside when his gaze fell on the phone, which was still buzzing.

It was Jungkook.

He had been expecting something to happen during that literature convention he had decided to attend, but definitely not this soon. Since when had Jungkook left Seoul? 4 hours at best, and there he was, repetitively messaging him and asking for help. It was only 15 minutes later when Yoongi finally slid his phone in his pocket once again and entered his studio, huffing as he checked his watch. He tiredly flopped on his chair, staring at the staggering pile of folders on his chaotic desk. His first patient was going to come in soon. Today again, there was no time to organize any of the folders. With not even a minute to spare, he engaged in the tedious task of scanning the countless papers in search of the folder containing his first patient’s information. He focused on reading the folder, trying to remember everything associated with that person. He had a formidable memory and was smart, but he had limits too. Having become a well-known psychologist, he had to keep in mind information about hundreds of patients. His schedule was stuffed with all kinds of diverse people, and to keep up with it, he had to work nonstop from early in the morning up to late at night. He earned a good amount of money and could have definitely afforded a better studio. But he really didn’t care about nice apartments or workplaces. The aseptic atmosphere luxury condos offered reminded him of the unloving foster homes he had to stay in throughout his childhood. His heart still lingered in the first apartment he had bought for himself in Busan. An old, rusty one, carved in his memory, his true home. It was the crammed space in which he had been able to take Jungkook in, to be like a big brother to him, to give him the support he desperately needed together with Namjoon and Jimin.

Luxury workplaces were a no-go, then. But what about an assistant? With the load of work he had to sustain every day, he could have at least hired someone to help him keep track of appointments and to keep everything organized. But working alone had become a constant of his life too: he had always preferred to work on his own, or rather, he didn’t like to allow people into his life. Clients had never complained, though; the down-to-earth, homely vibe was a part of his charm and way to help people. Many clients felt intimidated by going to therapy in expensive skyscrapers, surrounded by professional, but rather cold people. Yoongi’s simple, yet blunt attitude made people feel like they were talking to a real person, who had been working hard for his whole life, who had gotten where he was despite his humble background and that had probably experienced hell and had learned how to drag people out of it.

It had worked fine up until then, but the constant rush, all the dragging himself forward with only his willpower, was slowly draining all energy from him. Thinking back on it, it would have been nice to have a decent studio and someone who could help him out.

He would have loved to keep studying, but recently he barely had time to carry out his basic vital functions. He always had to choose between sleep and studying and giving up on sleep had proved not to be a clever idea. Now that the situation with Jungkook had become unstable again, he needed to maintain his focus. In the middle of the afternoon, he suddenly found himself alone in the studio. Wasn’t Kim Yoon do, the high schooler, supposed to come next? Puzzled, he checked his calendar for the 110th time since that morning. He was indeed supposed to be there. He pulled out his phone, scrolling through tons of unread messages. There he was: he had left a message in the morning to cancel the appointment because of some incoming exams. Sighing, Yoongi placed the phone back on his desk and closed his eyes. Sometimes he wished to go back to a time when school was the only worry.

But thinking back on it, that time had never existed for him and his friends. No... maybe it had existed once. Yes, it definitely was there, somewhere in his mind. Promises of conquering the world, laughs, sunsets and warmth. But those memories were faded, he could barely remember them, overshadowed by much darker events, such as Junghyun’s death, Jungkook’s breakdown, their friendship shattering into pieces. Sitting in the quiet studio, used to always rushing, he was suddenly overwhelmed by a feeling of uncertainty and dread: he didn’t know what to do with himself. It had been almost impossible lately for him to have a minute to himself, and despite how much he loved his work, he wondered how much longer he could go on without ever catching his breath. He blankly stared at the wall in front of him, his body laying limp on the squeaky old chair. Oddly enough, that stained and cracked plaster he kept staring at reminded him of himself. All cracked and peeling, looking completely different from what it must have originally been like. But somehow, it was still there, holding onto the wall for dear life. Years had passed, and yet it stood, encrusted in its willpower, not willing to ever give up.

In the past, Yoongi had been different: lethargic, hopeless, not caring if he was alive the next day, not even able to feel pain anymore. Letting go, abandoning himself to the oblivion of nothingness: that was what depression had been dangerously whispering into his ear for months and months on end, latching its scrawny, long fingers around its throat, engulfing him in the gloom of numbness. He had overcome that, and he now didn’t wish to let go nor die. But the long years of loneliness and the isolation in which he had once again gradually and willingly delved into were inexorably dragging him closer to the edge of a bottomless pit. Depression wasn’t something easy to defeat, and Yoongi knew that too well. He was conscious he had limits he shouldn’t surpass. In his long years of battling against the illness, he had learned to recognize the red flags. Carrying on without motivation, exhaustion, the much-dreaded sense of powerlessness. In the last eight years or more, never had he been so close to the rim of the abyss as now.

And what if it happened again? He was so used to hiding his tiredness that he doubted anyone would notice if he plummeted back into the darkest pits of his mind. It was in those moments that he wondered how he had been able to build around him a barricade, a wall so thick that his own few friends couldn’t even hear his voice. He was lonely indeed, but it had never bothered him that much as now.

Hoseok. His beloved best friend was the only one who had been able to drag him out of his depression; or at least, the very first person who had loved him enough to try to save him. In middle school, when Yoongi was pretty much a castaway, Hoseok had found him and cheered him up. He had shown him the meaning of affection, which he had never known before. But when Hoseok left with his girlfriend and moved to another city, he was alone all over again. He never cried, not even once. There were no tears left to cry, there had never been.

All over again, the person he cared the most for, the only person who was able to save him, was gone from his life, not even a word of goodbye. Was it so easy for him to leave? A rushed departure in the dawn's silence, hushed goodbyes to everyone except Yoongi. The evening before, he was there, with his obnoxious high-pitched voice, his awfully sweet smile, his hilarious words. And in the morning, gone. Silence, and only more silence, a void impossible to fill, a tear too wide to mend. It took him some time to come to terms with his new life. A life not so different from the one he had before Hoseok ever talked to him. For days on end, he kept wondering: how could he have been so naïve? Not once had life been kind to him before. What had made him think this time would have been different? Hoseok was the same as everyone else: he had offered him a hope that vanished as quickly and unexpectedly as it appeared.

But eventually, he accepted it and moved on. But towards what? What was the point of moving forward? He had questioned it so many times: what was he left with? No family, best friend gone, friendships broken forever, hope gone. But indeed, there was something left. The storm that had overtaken their lives had left him with nothing but shards of shattered glass. But those crumbles, those chips of life were still there. Jungkook, Jimin, Namjoon. Those poor guys. Life had always been a bitch to him, but did it have to be hell for them too? It was hard, but he didn’t see what else he could do. When Yoongi was drowning in the thickest ocean of depression, all hope gone, Hoseok had dragged him back to the surface. Maybe that could be done with them too. He had to try, at least. Despite Hoseok had abandoned him without a word, deep inside he knew he had no right to be angry at him. He had been the first person to ever be kind to him, after all.

But knowing he should have been grateful didn’t mean he was completely fine with what Hoseok had done. As the years passed, he slowly grew cold towards him. He had made his choice. Hoseok never called him nor the other members, and if that was what he wanted, then Yoongi wouldn’t ever get in contact with him again. What would have been the point, anyway? Purposefully dragging Hoseok into a hell he had finally escaped from didn’t seem like a fulfilling revenge. He didn’t hate him to the point of wanting to see him suffer. He hoped he was happy now, and that was enough. He would respect Hoseok’s wish and would never call him again.

Scrolling through the phone, his eyes fell on the conversation between him and Jungkook.

That evening, after the visit to Jungkook, calling Jimin to ask him about Jungkook’s relationship with Yin, Yoongi had postponed the discussion because of Jimin’s migraines. The thing had then slipped off his mind; him buried in work. But after that morning’s conversation with Jungkook, the situation had gotten more urgent. It was time to confront Jimin about his doubts. If what he was suspecting was true, Yin could end up saving Jungkook. But that would also mean Jungkook was getting himself into dangerous waters. Glancing at the clock, he realized he had little time before his next appointment, half an hour at best. He quickly messaged Jimin, hoping he would see that and call him back. Not even 5 minutes later, his phone buzzed.

“Hello?”

“Hyung, it’s me. You wanted to talk about Kook.”

“Yes. How is he? He must have told you about what happened this morning, right?”

“He has. He’s better now, although we’ve just discovered we’re sharing a room”

“The three of us.” he added.

“Are you outside now?” Yoongi asked.

Jimin was taking a walk through the small town, lazily dragging his feet around as he breathed in the fresh air.

“Yeah. They’re alone in the room.”

“Let’s make it quick then. Given what happened this morning, it wouldn’t be wise to leave them alone for much time.”

Yoongi sighed, biting the cap of his pen.

“I’ll get straight to the point. When did Jungkook start to be the girl’s teacher?” he mumbled, scribbling on a piece of paper.

“Um… Yin… was it at the beginning of this school year? Then it would be about… 6 months more or less.” Jimin concluded while ordering a coffee at a café nearby.

“But why is that relevant?” he asked as he paid and sat down at one of the small tables.

In the meantime, Yoongi was deep into his thoughts, writing dates and circling them. Jimin heard shuffling of papers on the other side of the phone.

“If my notes are correct…” Yoongi murmured, holding the cap of his pen between his teeth, “The last time I had to prescribe Lorazepam to Jungkook… was exactly about 5 months ago.”

Jimin furrowed his brow, trying to remember.

“Do you realize the timing? He stopped taking the mood stabilizers not long after getting to know that girl. That’s when he started generally improving when it comes to his attitude. I think that’s not a coincidence.” Yoongi insisted, repetitively tapping his pen on the paper on the dates he had previously circled.

Jimin was silent for a moment until the realization hit him. He was left frozen, the cup of coffee mid-air in his hand.

“Do you think…?”

“I think Yin might be unknowingly saving him.”

“Oh my god.”

Not hearing any further questions or sound from the other side of the phone, Yoongi continued with his explanation.

“When I spoke with Jungkook in the hospital that day, I heard it from his mouth. He said Yin saved her. It seems like he didn’t intend to tell me, but it must have slipped out.”

Jimin put the forgotten coffee down.

“Why- Why haven’t you told me?”

“I had intended to… but you had a migraine and… It didn’t seem like the appropriate time to talk.”

“Oh… I see.” Jimin bit his lip.

“But I think there’s more”, Yoongi quickly added, already sensing that Jimin was going to scold himself for not being lucid enough to talk that night, or for not being reliable.

“What else could there be?” Jimin murmured, tiredly leaning back on the chair.

“I think Jungkook might be… falling in love?” Yoongi whispered, nervously drawing doodles on the paper.

This was something Jimin was not prepared to hear. The chair fell to the ground with a loud crash, startling the clients who were sitting at the other tables. Jimin, who had jumped up at Yoongi’s words, immediately apologized for his actions, gulped down the remnants of his coffee and excused himself from the café. Only later, as a bitter aftertaste lingered in his mouth, did he realize that he didn’t even put sugar in his coffee. Jimin walked back and forth, trying to put the pieces together in his mind, although he was finding it extremely hard to do so. On the other side of the phone, Yoongi patiently waited for Jimin to come to terms with that realization, knowing it was definitely a lot to take in.

“How is that…”

“I’m not sure myself, but what happened this morning could be a hint of Jungkook catching feelings for that girl. We can’t know for sure, but he expressly told me he wasn’t panicking because of the memories of Junghyun or the anorexia issue, and I think he would have recognized the sings if it had been that.”

“So what, he was just flustered because he likes her or something?”

“Wouldn’t be that much of a stretch. Jungkook’s never been in love yet, it would be normal for him not to immediately realise what’s happening to him. You know him best, though; haven’t you noticed anything in these past months?”

“Um… he always talked to me about the fact that Yin is a marvelous writer, and that she really had a lot of potential, but I never thought…” Jimin stopped mid-sentence, standing in the middle of the street.

“But hyung… If that was to be true…”

“It’s risky.” Yoongi confirmed. “Even if she might help him, she could also hurt him a lot, given her current illness. She might bring back things Jungkook isn’t ready to face. It would be good therapy-wise, but if he gets too attached, and, let’s pray it doesn’t happen, but, let’s say he loses her, I don’t think that’s something he can handle.”

“W-what do we do then? S-should we let this happen or not?” Jimin muttered, fear in his voice. Not again. When would life give them a break? Jungkook had already been robbed of his brother, the affection of his parents, his youth. Would life now also take his love away? He had worked so hard; it wasn’t fair.

“Jimin, don’t get too anxious now. I don’t think Jungkook even realizes it. We’re not sure about that, and even if it were to be true, it might not be reciprocated. They might not even try to do anything at all knowing the situation they’re in. I think it’ll be fine for now. Let’s just… keep an eye on them.”

“Jimin.”

The younger boy took a deep, shaky breath. “Can you do that for me? Just keep an eye on them and calm down. If something happens, we’ll handle it when the problem presents itself. Let’s not overthink it now.”

“Okay hyung. I’ll do my best to check on them. I’ll call you back if I need anything.”

“Thank you for telling me.” he added.

“No problem. Go rest now, okay? Don’t stress too much about the situation.”

“Okay hyung. Bye.”

“Bye...”

Yoongi was once again alone in the silence of his studio. He wondered if he had done the right thing by telling him about what could be happening to Jungkook. Had he really a choice, though? Jimin had to know in order to help him if something went wrong. But he also knew this new piece of information would weigh on Jimin and expose him to even more stress.

“No going back now,” Yoongi told to himself. “you’ve told him, there’s no room for regrets. You can only move forward in life.”

And he didn’t have much time to worry either, as his next patient arrived soon after, and he had to concentrate back on his work. Patient after patient, hour after hour. The sun had already set when he finally closed the door of the studio and went home. Back into his apartment, he dropped his keys on the table and sat down at his desk. Just then, his phone buzzed, again. He reluctantly gazed at the dusty books in front of him, wondering when he would have been able to open them.

“Just tonight; just let me study for once. Do I really have to answer every time someone calls me?”

He was about to turn off his phone when he noticed who was calling him: Jungkook. It’s not like he could ignore that. A call wouldn’t take away more than 30 minutes of his time, but he knew that after that he wouldn’t be able to concentrate on anything else than Jungkook’s situation. If he answered, he knew he was going to give up on studying once again. He turned his lamp off and laid on his bed, finally answering the call.

“Kook-ah.”

“Hyung, I’m sorry to disturb you at this hour, I’m sure you must have had a busy day and…”

“Forget it. Just tell me. Are you feeling better?” Yoongi replied, taking his glasses off and pinching the bridge of his nose, trying to ease the headache pounding in his skull.

“I… I don’t know hyung. I’m a bit confused. Something with Yin happened and… well- uh-”

“Try to explain me everything from the beginning, or it will be hard for me to understand.” Yoongi interrupted him.

“Right… sorry… So, we were having dinner tonight, and a waiter tripped and accidentally spilled some wine on our table. It got on Yin’s hands, and she looked terrified. When we went back to the room-we share the room, the three of us- anyway she locked herself up in the bathroom and wouldn’t come out. Jimin handled the situation well and convinced her to come out. We made her a cup of tea; her hands were shaking so much hyung. She was pale and trembling, it scared me.”

“And how is she now?” Yoongi answered after a pause.

“I don’t know, I’m outside. I thought she might be embarrassed if I stayed in the room, so I left her alone with Jimin. But I’m sure she’s okay now, Jimin hyung must be taking good care of her.”

Yoongi perceived a hesitance in Jungkook’s voice.

“Kook. There’s something you aren’t telling me. What’s really bothering you? You know she’s in good hands; what are you thinking of? What’s making you feel confused?”

Jungkook bit his lip. There was nothing that could be hidden to Yoongi. Not that he planned to not say anything about it, but he just… didn’t know how.

“It’s… I left because I felt like I had to, but…”

“But?”

“I… wanted to stay by her side. Even when Jimin entered the bathroom, he told me to wait outside, and I get it. I understand he is the expert in this field, the one who can really help her. But I keep thinking that I would have wanted to be by her side. I feel so powerless, so… I don’t know.”

“I see…”

Jungkook impatiently bit his nails, unable to think clearly. “Hyung, what’s wrong with me? I really didn’t want to leave the room, I wanted to help her through her sufferings the same way you all did with me…”

“Nothing’s wrong with you, kid. You’re just human. Listen: I know you’re not really used to interacting closely with people besides your hyungs, but you care about her, am I right?”

“What?... O-of course...”

“Then, if she’s fine with it, I don’t see why you shouldn’t lend her a helping hand when she’s in need.”

“But Jimin hyung…”

“I’m not telling you should substitute him; he’s a nurse, he knows what to do when it comes to panic attacks and illnesses, but there’s no reason for you not to help.”

“I know, but he keeps...”

“Has Jimin told you to stay away?”

No answer.

“Kook, answer me, please. Is Jimin keeping you away from her?”

“...yes.” the answer came so quiet that Yoongi barely heard it.

“Kook… he’s not doing that because you’re useless, but because he’s worried you might panic yourself. That is something you should consider too: wanting to help her is good, but you have to be careful not to overstep your own boundaries.”

“I don’t get it hyung. What should I do then? Help her, or stay away?”

“Well, first of all, I think it’s positive you don’t want to run away. But you should mention to Jimin when you’re fine with it and when you’re getting too uncomfortable with the situation. My advice for you would be not to run away, and to carefully decide whether you can endure it or if it’ll be too much for you.”

“Okay…”

“But you have to tell Jimin. He can’t help you if you don’t openly talk with him.”

“Now go rest, and don’t overwork yourself, okay?”

“Yes. You too hyung. I’m sorry for bothering you once again…”

“If you’re really sorry then when you come back, you’ll treat me to lamb skewers for dinner. How about that?”

Jungkook finally smiled. “Sounds great. I’ll do that hyung, I promise.”

“Good. Goodnight.”

“Night hyung.”

Chapter Text

External POV

Turning and shifting in his now suddenly uncomfortable bed, Jungkook realized he wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep so easily. How long had it been? 30 minutes? An hour? He did not know. At night, time seemed to flow in a way incomprehensible to him. A minute sluggishly dragged itself for what felt like four hours, then six hours passed by in a whim. Jungkook didn’t know when, but he had been woken up by quiet footsteps on the wooden floor. Listening closely, still half asleep and mind foggy, he thought a door had slid open, and then nothing. The room was immersed in utter silence again, as if nothing had happened.

“Maybe it’s Jimin,” he had initially thought, but as he curiously peeked out, slightly drawing the curtain, he saw the boy peacefully laying on his bed, an arm cast over his eyes as his chest quietly heaved up and down.

If it wasn’t him, it was...

The curtain on Yin’s side was drawn, her bed empty.

“Maybe she just went to the bathroom. Why did you even get up?” Jungkook scolded himself for being too nosy once again and laid back in bed. But as time slowly ticked away, he couldn’t go back to sleep. She wasn’t coming back. What if she was sick, what if she had fainted or something? What if she needed help and didn’t dare to ask? Not that plausible. He tried to avoid those stupid thoughts, turning around to face the wall, ready to fall back into a deep sleep. But the damage was done: all those “what if?” kept popping up in his head. Despite Jimin’s reassuring words, he couldn’t ignore the fact that the evening before, just because of some wine, the girl had almost suffered a panic attack. He had had enough. He got up, with no idea of what to do. What was he going to say? Was he going to just casually knock on the bathroom door in the middle of the night to ask the poor girl if she was okay? He shook his head as if trying to clear it from the haziness and doubts.

“I’ll think about it when I get there,” he thought. Carefully, he moved a couple of steps into the main area of the pitch-black room. Everything was flooded in dense gloom, except for a thin glimmer of moonlight, pearlescent, candid, which gently came in from the glass door, flooding Jimin’s bed, turning it into a dense sea of milky clouds. Trying not to wake up Jimin, Jungkook softly tiptoed past the bed. For an instant, curiosity overtook him, and, as if drawn by an alluring spell, he walked towards the glass door, towards the pearlescent moon. Step after step, he got to the point where he was a couple of inches from the glass, his faint breath fogging it up. It was then that he noticed a huddled figure, sitting outside on the wooden floor, contemplating the view. It was Yin.

He could have been fine with knowing she was okay and could have gone back to sleep, but he didn’t want to. His heart urged him to join her there on those bare wooden planks. Excitement flooded his body and, without thinking much, he quietly prepared two cups of chamomile and gathered a couple of blankets, figuring it would be cold outside. When he was about to open the door, he stopped. What was he doing? Had he any right to be doing this? What would the girl think of him? Wasn’t he being too intrusive? But he desperately wanted to go there. He wanted to follow what his heart fiercely asked for. He had restrained himself that evening, but why did it have to be so? Why did he have to hold down his heart so painfully? If it was fine with him, there was no reason not to stay by her side. And what about what she wanted? It’s not like he could completely ignore that. What if the girl felt uncomfortable with his presence?

But while his mind was pampering him with completely reasonable arguments not to go there, his heart longed for the feelings he had experienced for the first time the afternoon the day before. There was something he particularly enjoyed about staying with Yin, yet as Yoongi had reminded him, he had to be careful too: there were many things that could make him panic. Jungkook stood there for a good while, battling with himself, fingers on the handle. Suddenly, Jimin mumbled something in his sleep, and not wanting to wake him up, Jungkook quietly slid the door open and walked out.

“No going back.” he thought, not knowing if he was more scared or glad of the situation. For a moment, it came to his mind that he could still have gone back inside. The girl still hadn’t noticed him, after all. He was about to turn on his heels and leave when his gaze fell on the starry sky in front of him. When they had arrived in the room, he had been in such turmoil that he hadn’t even looked at the view. And now he stood there, mouth agape, mugs still in his hands, on the wooden balcony, awestruck. The room overlooked a narrow valley. On its sides, wooded hills sheltered them from the world, and led to majestic, rocky mountainous peaks. In the distance, the other hotels’ lights were completely out, the valley flooded by moonlight, which candidly floated over everything and engulfed the world in a fragile spell. Far away on the snow-capped mountain peaks, stars played with the rocks, hiding and reappearing brighter than ever. After contemplating that beauty for what seemed like forever, he sat down next to the girl, awakening her from her own contemplative state. Startled, the girl eyed Jungkook. Her eyes still reflected every single star she had been engraving in her soul.

“Here, I made some chamomile.”

“Thanks”

With it, Jungkook passed her a blanket, in which she immediately wrapped herself, a sudden gust of wind making her shiver in her thin white nightgown. There was no need for words or explanations. The view itself was good enough as an excuse to spend the entire night there, until the sun would overtake everything with its bright golden light, breaking the mystic spell. As they sipped their steaming chamomiles in silence, Jungkook’s eyes fell on a scribbled piece of paper laying on the wooden floor.

“Did you write something?” he whispered, barely audible.

He was drawn to that paper, genuinely curious, heart hungry for those vibrant bits of life only she could capture on a dull piece of paper.

“I tried to...-It will never be good enough; it doesn’t describe the place at all...”

She sighed, resting her back on the wall.

“But it’s okay. Sometimes, I like to let my mind completely loose. I love writing, but it can definitely get stressful when I have to force myself into fixed criteria and schemes. Today I have been selfish. I’ve written something different from usual, no descriptions, only feelings. Only those who have been here and have seen all this can understand. No one else will get it apart from... Well... Us...”

Her voice got quieter as she spoke, so much so that the “us” came out in a trembling whisper, barely audible. If it weren’t for the darkness, Jungkook would have noticed the deep shade of red her face was so suddenly painted in.

Us....

Her simple words insinuated in Jungkook’s heart, and slowly bloomed, filling him with an unknown warmth that immediately rose to his cheeks. He was glad, and so ecstatic about being allowed into that “us” that she was talking about. A secret between them, the life no one else could see. It made no logical sense. The situation, the feelings; nothing made sense, and he was aware. But the night was too beautiful to care.

“Can... I read it?” Jungkook timidly blurted out.

“Only if you’re okay with it, though...” he immediately added, hoping his stupid request didn’t come off as too blunt or straight-forward.

“I- I.... It’s not finished, it’s a mess- I- maybe... when it’s finished... I’m sorry... I hope it’s okay if I show it when it’s... finished...I-”

She was a stuttering mess and nervously fiddled with her hands.

“It’s fine, don’t worry! No need to apologize,” he giggled softly.

After interminable moments of blissful contemplation, Jungkook spoke once again, words coming out on their own.

“You know... When I first read your writings... I was amazed by the way you manage to unveil life in its intimacy, in a completely new way I had never thought of.”

A shy gratitude washed over the girl.

“... It’s something I’ve been doing for the longest time. It’s what kept me alive after all. The miracle of life shows itself in the smallest details. Even a crumble, the tiniest thing, a raindrop, a tiny insect, a flower sprouting from a crack in the bare stone. That was what allowed me to carry on and keep living when my dad-”

She abruptly cut herself off, all air kicked out of her lungs. Alarmed, Jungkook stared at her, trying to analyze the situation. The girl looked extremely nervous, and once again she massaged her wrist.

“Do something, do something!” he thought. “What should I say? I’m sorry? What a dumb thing to say.”

When his brother had died, and all the people he barely knew came to visit his family, they burdened him with all that condolence and sympathy. All those ‘I’m sorry’. Was it useful? Not at all, he didn’t know what to do with those insincere ‘I’m sorry for your loss’. Did they even care? Who were they to his brother? And what did he do to receive that pity? Had he been able to save his brother? Not at all, he had failed, and condolences had been as useless as a band-aid on internal bleeding. Quivering with awakened rage, he finally found the courage to speak.

“You know,” he eventually murmured.

“When I started this school year... I was... well, let’s say I wasn’t in a good place, mentally I mean. But I’m really thankful to have you as a student of mine. I’ve told you many times already, but you write beautifully, and you showed me life in a way I had never even thought of. I think that really helped me to carry on and get better.”

He had blurted out all in one go, in a single breath, and he was now exhausted. What was that? Had he really said all those things, those words which he had never even revealed to his hyungs? Jungkook urged his heart to calm down. He couldn’t go back in time, after all. He was crazy, completely crazy. But after all, when had he ever been normal? Why did he even care? What mattered was distracting the girl from memories that clearly made her feel uncomfortable.

“I’m really glad it was useful for you...” she murmured, a shy smile appearing on her lips.

A wave of relief washed over Jungkook. The girl had stopped nervously massaging her wrist and seemed much calmer. The gloomy cloud that had overshadowed her thoughts seemed to have passed. Jungkook’s heart was overflowing with tenderness, one he had never felt before, if not with...

With his brother.

Alarms went off in his head, a sudden realization hit him. He was getting too attached. Care and tenderness towards younger people, being like a bigger brother had led him to pain and despair only. The situation was too similar, too risky: the anorexia, the warmth and affection. What if she died? Highly unlikely, he knew, but what if something happened to her? What would he do? He would surely go crazy. It was too risky. He couldn’t afford to get attached again; it would torture him forever. Jungkook was getting scared. Now he knew: his heart was dangerous; his feelings would lead him to his destruction. He had to leave; he couldn’t stay with the girl any longer. What a stupid idea, what a dumb thing to do, get close to the fire after it burned you already. His heart pounded like crazy, he could feel his chest constricting. He wanted to get up and leave, but what would he say? Was he able to talk at all? His mind was getting hazier, his limbs heavy, he was too weak to move. He helplessly stared into the void, thoughts obsessively torturing him, memories coming back like a dam had been broken. The world too, everything was spinning around him, and he squeezed his eyes shut, the world already fading around him. He was losing control, rapidly slipping into unconsciousness. He was going to pass out; he was sure of it. Everything was too much, too strong to handle on its own. But then, as he drowned in his fear, a hand tightly held onto his. Not a word came with it, but it was enough. The warmth of that hand carried him back, stopped the world from spinning. Nothing mattered anymore. The fear slowly disappeared, the anxiety slowly melted, until it was reduced to an insignificant puddle stagnating in his soul. When he felt like he could breathe normally again, he opened his eyes. He hadn’t passed out. He was okay. How was this even possible? The fear that had come upon him had triggered a panic attack, and yet there he was, completely fine and almost calm. He held onto that hand; the only string that kept him latched to reality. He felt that if he were to lose that grip, he would go right back into panic mode.

Jungkook’s eyes fell on the girl, leaning against the wall, eyes closed and a tender smile on her lips. Jungkook stared, curiously investigating the renovated, angelic look her frail limbs had gained. The faint light of the moon fell on her milky skin, melting into an iridescent lake. Ebony strands of hair gently fell on her shoulders, framing her gentle face. Her rosy lips tainted the candor like a delicate lily amid a moonlit lake. A strand of hair out of place led the boy to move his hand towards the girl. Only when his hand was almost touching her hair did he stop, realizing what he was about to do. Forcing himself out of his trance, he immediately retracted his hand and closed his eyes again. His heart was beating furiously. What was he thinking?

“Jungkook, focus.” He scolded himself. But his mind wouldn’t listen. Who was he, what was he doing? With an incommensurable effort, he tried to put everything back together. “You’re Jeon Jungkook, literature teacher at the Liberal Arts Seoul University, two years since you started teaching, you’re at a literature convention with your best student, Yin, and- Why the hell are you holding her hand? Why are you here?”

Restless and fidgety, Jungkook had opened and closed his eyes 100 times at least, scared by his internal turmoil, shook to the core by unknown feelings he didn’t have a name for. He was going crazy, the silence, together with the girl’s presence and his confusing desires were turning him into such a mess. The new conscience of those dangerous feelings made him even more nervous.

“I’ll think about that later on. I don’t have the strength to undergo another panic attack, I need to calm down.” He thought, shoving all those doubts and warnings to the back of his mind.

Miraculously, it worked, and he calmed down and relax, to the point that the panic attack was just a distant memory. And then, suddenly, a giggle escaped the girl’s mouth. Jungkook felt inexplicably comforted and soothed by that mellow tone, a new curiosity sparking in him. He softened his grip on the girl’s hand. He slowly reopened his eyes, and he noticed the girl staring right at the sky, a certain defiance and pleasure glimmering in her eyes.

“I knew it. It’s different.” She excitedly murmured.

Jungkook frowned. He glanced at her, then at the sky, then back again at her, and at the sky, in an endless bewilderment.

“What do you mean? It’s the same as before.”

He murmured confusedly, pointing at the sky.

She giggled again. “It’s different. Come, Mr. Jeon.” And as she talked, she got up. The girl gently grabbed his wrist and led him to the wooden parapet. The delicate fingers burned around Jungkook’s skin, a quiver running through his body. He didn’t retract his hand, though; it was a nice burn. It was absurd, but he loved it, and didn’t want it to stop. For a brief second, their eyes met. Jungkook could swear there was the whole Milky Way in those eyes. A new glimmer, a joy never experienced before. Her smile said the same. For some strange reason, her gaze towards him seemed the same as its mother, in distant and fuzzy memories, when he was a child. In his heart beat the excitement of walking barefoot on the sand as his mother showed him the sky and the seashells painted in the same color of the moon.

A light shade of pink on her cheeks, the girl finally looked away.

“Look there: the stars have moved.” She pointed at some spots behind a mountain.

“I don’t see anything different, though,” Jungkook pouted

She giggled again, “Look closely. That star was over there before.” She sighed, taking in the beautiful view.

“It might seem like that’s not that big of a difference, but something has changed. Everything is alive, and nature shows its prettier sides in the small things no one notices. They are offered to us, only for the most attentive eyes to see.”

Jungkook was amazed by the pure admiration and joy he could see reflected in that girl’s eyes. He found himself smiling as he had never done before in his whole life.

“Isn’t it exciting? I just love it!” The girl cheerfully whispered.

Jungkook patted her head, smiling. “Yes. It is...”

But as he realized what he had done, he wondered if he had overstepped boundaries. He retracted his hand and the girl awkwardly looked away. A cold gust of wind made them shiver, and they went back to their previous spots, covering themselves with their blankets.

“I would have never imagined there could be such a beautiful view from here”

Jungkook murmured, still looking at the stars that slowly moved throughout the sky in a slow, mystical dance. They stood there for a while, contemplating, and admiring, sharing the most beautiful moment of their lives. The night was splendid. No cloud could permanently obscure it, everything passed, the problems of the day now distant and slumbered. Jungkook had finally forgotten his worries and was simply happy, overjoyed, carefree. They would have spent the entire night there, hearts beating furiously and stars dancing in the sky; but at one point they heard the door slide open. From the door, Jimin appeared, eyes barely open, yawning and shivering in the night's cold.

“The heck?”

The two looked down, as if ashamed. Once again, they felt like they had been caught doing something wrong, although nothing had happened.

“Were you having a party without me? Why do you look so sad I interrupted you?” he giggled, relieving the tension in the air.

“It’s cold, come back inside or you’ll catch a cold. It’s 4 am.”

“4?” the girl asked, wide-eyed.

“Is that a problem? Apart from the fact that you two should be sleeping…” Jimin replied, tiredly leaning on the wall.

“I-it was midnight when I… came here…”

Jungkook was shocked. Once again, the night had played one of his tricks. Over three hours had passed by, and he hadn’t even realized it. A cold gust of wind made them all shiver.

“Okay, okay let’s all be shocked tomorrow, shall we? It’s cold, let’s go back inside.” Jimin quickly uttered, forcing the two to stand up and dragging them back inside with all the stuff they had brought there. They stumbled inside and said goodnight to each other.

“Barefoot in the night's cold for four hours… I wouldn’t be surprised if you two were sick tomorrow… I’m a nurse, but that doesn’t mean I want to work 24/7 because of you.” Jimin mumbled as he laid back on his bed.

Jungkook giggled.

“Gguk-ah!”

“What”

“You’re the older one, shouldn’t you be responsible?”

“I am!”

“Barefoot on the balcony at 4 am, do I have to point out how irresponsible you are?”

“Didn’t you see? I carried hot tea and blankets!” Jungkook proudly whispered back.

“Okay, okay, but if one of you two gets sick I’ll hold you accountable, got it?”

“Yeah, yeah, got it!”

In the meantime, Yin listened to the hilarious exchange of whispered insults and threats, Jimin almost walking over to Jungkook’s bed to start a pillow fight with him. They acted like siblings, and she found it adorable. After a couple more insults and pillows thrown at each other, the boys calmed down, and everyone sunk back into sleep.

Chapter Text

Jimin’s POV

At 7 am, the annoying sound of the alarm insinuated in my dreams. I opened my eyes to the still unfamiliar room, and it took me some time to remember where I was.

“Ah, that’s right. I have to wake those two up. What was the schedule again?” I thought to myself as I forced myself to crawl out of bed. Rubbing my eyes, I read the paper the staff had handed us the night prior. 9 am...in the main hall. I eventually found the strength to get up and was hit by a sudden wave of dizziness. I inhaled sharply and waited for it to pass. Indeed, after a couple of seconds, it all went back to normal.

“It’s nothing. Don’t worry about that and do what you have to do.” I murmured under my breath.

I walked up to Jungkook’s bed. As I had imagined, he was still fast asleep. A smile appeared on my lips. What a kid...

“Hey, Kook. Wake up.”

“Mhh…”

I shook him some more.

“Come on, we’re going to be late if you don’t-” My hand accidentally brushed over his skin. It was… hot? Alarmed, I removed the duvet. Under the covers, he was all damp and drenched in sweat, his cheeks flushed and his skin reddened.

“Jungkook-ah, are you sick?”

“Me…? I’m good thanks...” he murmured, slurring his words, curling into a ball, shivering. Well, maybe it was just a bit too hot under the covers. Still, Jungkook wasn’t one to sweat profusely at all, and the room was quite cold. I put my worries aside, figuring I wouldn’t be able to get anything out of him now that he was still half asleep.

“Wake up, come on.” I repeated before drawing the curtain once again. I turned around and noticed Yin was already standing.

“Ah, good morning Yin.”

“Morning…”

“How are you feeling? Headaches, anything?” I asked, sitting down next to her.

“Um… I feel a bit… weak I think? But… it’s the same as always.”

“Hmmm... that’s not good. Wait, it’s best if I at least check a couple of parameters.”

I quickly got my bag. She quietly waited and let me examine her. I could tell she was quite uncomfortable, but there wasn’t much I could do about it. At least it looked like whatever memory had triggered her yesterday didn’t have any effect on her now. I had already noticed it at night, when I had caught those two on the balcony stargazing or something, but I was half asleep and didn’t actually remember much. She seemed much calmer, and less embarrassed by Jungkook’s presence. It was a good thing; I repeated to myself, nothing to worry about. Although they seemed to get along well, I still had some doubts about how the girl could help him get better. It had been because of her he had gone through such a bad relapse, after all. In all those years, nothing good had ever come from pain, so how was I supposed to trust this bond or relationship that was forming in front of my eyes? Was it good? was it bad? Was it both? And if so, what was I supposed to do? They had good chemistry; it was undeniable. And what if they started dating? Jungkook had already lost many things in his life, losing Yin was something I couldn’t let happen. No, no, what a bunch of nonsense. Overthinking mere possibilities wouldn’t solve a thing. The only thing I knew was that it made me uncomfortable leaving them together. It made me stressed and knowing that Jungkook could get triggered by the smallest things felt like walking on eggshells all the time.

“Your blood pressure is quite low. I can’t let you walk out like this, but I can’t force you not to attend the meetings you’re here for, can I?”

I murmured.

“Isn’t there something we can do for that...?” the girl asked.

“Well... You had to do a lot of things yesterday, and today too it’s probably going to be an exhausting day. I don’t want to force you out of your boundaries, but I think you should try to eat a bit more, just to make sure you don’t pass out.”

She nervously played with her hands, avoiding my gaze.

“I don’t really know how… it makes me uncomfortable.”

“It doesn’t have to be something grand. But we have to make sure nothing bad happens to you. I can’t follow you during all classes as I’m basically not supposed to be here and have nothing to do with literature.”

Her eyes were glued to the floor, her lips were quivering with frustration.

“I’m sorry for creating this mess, it’s just...”

“Sweetie, everything’s fine. Just let me think for a moment. Let’s go over what you’re comfortable eating.”

“Uhm...light soups...red apples are fine too...and... peas.”

“What about grapes? There are grapes in the fridge. Would you be comfortable eating them? I also have some nuts, but they contain a lot of calories, as I’m sure you know, so I don’t think you…”

“Yeah…” she tugged a strand of hair behind her reddened ear. “Nuts are a no-go for me… but… grapes are okay I guess…”

“Good.” I smiled and brought the bag to her.

She nervously glanced at me, then her eyes fixed on the grapes. She stared incessantly at the bag, almost as if she was intimidated by them.

“You don’t have to eat them now if you don’t feel like it. Just… maybe eat a couple when you start to feel tired or dizzy, hmm? It will stress you out less than if you were to eat them now.”

“Thanks. I’ll do my best.”

I chose some clothes for the day and moved towards the bathroom Jungkook and I shared. But as I walked past his bed, Jungkook was still in his pyjamas, staring into the void. His eyes were puffy and red, and his clothes were glued to his skin.

I frowned. “Kook?”

No answer. I crouched down in front of him. “Kook-ah?” I repeated, and only then did he notice me.

“What?” He restlessly tortured the hem of his shirt, avoiding my eyes. I squished his warm cheeks between my hands, forcing his big doe eyes onto me.

“Hey, what’s wrong with you?” I mouthed, not wanting to embarrass him in front of the girl.

“What” he mouthed back.

“What do you mean? You’re so out of it, are you sick?”

“Not at all!” he whispered, wide eyed, almost angry at my remark.

I got up, staring at him in disapproval. But he refused to look at me. I sighed and stormed into the bathroom.

“Whatever. I’m not a fortune teller, if he doesn’t want to tell me what’s wrong, I can’t do anything to help him.” I muttered under my breath as I opened the tap.

“I knew it. He caught a cold or something. Or maybe…”

Between all the weird things about Kook that morning, one stood out in particular. After my conversation with the girl, his eyes were puffy and reddened, as well as his nose. I bit my bottom lip in regret. I shouldn’t have talked about those things directly in front of him. Had he cried? Was he upset? During the past week, after the relapse, I had tried to tell Jungkook whatever could help him feel better. Saying a couple of white lies about the girl’s speed of recovery would have been fine, or so I thought. The thing is, although she was indeed getting better, getting out of an eating disorder was a painfully slow process. Pushing her out of her comfort zone was extremely hard and risky, and until then, I had made her survive the day with a single, small meal. But that was just because, besides sitting at a desk and studying, I always made sure she didn’t do anything that would make her tired. Eating as little as she did in the last week wouldn’t sustain her during these days, in which she had many activities to take part in. Yesterday she was so pale at dinner that I thought she would collapse right there and then. She couldn’t possibly keep this up much longer. Her blood pressure had dropped again, and it was dangerously close to the time she had first passed out in class. That was the ugly reality of this illness. It was no easy task to get out of those habits, and I feared Jungkook wouldn’t be ready to hear any of this. Now that we basically had to live together for 5 days, there was no way he wouldn’t have noticed it.

I was well aware he would find out eventually, but I hoped for a more gradual realization. If only we weren’t at this convention… no, if only I had been more careful today and didn’t speak in his presence… I even listed the meagre choice of foods she could eat... what a disaster.

I punched the tap in frustration, stopping the water. I wished I could stay under the running water forever. How blissful, if I could melt, disappearing into the tiny holes of the drain to get lost once and for all.

The sound of the water still echoed in my ears. The droplets screamed as they violently hit my skin, their furious yells pounding in my skull. I crouched down on the cold tiles, a familiar uneasiness creeping up my spine, making its way into my neck. I wrapped my hands around my head. Couldn’t this water stop? Why was it still echoing so loudly?

Saying the right words, pondering every move, taking care of two unstable people when I myself wasn’t stable at all. What was I thinking when I had agreed to this? How had I even gotten into this situation?

Tension kept building up on my shoulders, and it scared me. I desperately gasped for air, but the more I did so, the more I felt like drowning in the damp steam.

“No Jimin, this is no time to have anxiety, not the right time to have migraines. Pull yourself together.”

But the more I tried to calm down, the more every mistake I made painfully flashed beneath my eyes. I was completely overwhelmed, tired, helpless. I thought of Yoongi hyung. He surely would have known what to do, he wouldn’t have done those stupid mistakes.

Time was ticking by; I couldn’t show myself so unstable in front of Yin and Kook. They needed to be reassured, and I, the person who should have done that, wasn’t even able to stand up. I was crouched inside a stupid shower booth crying over myself.

I needed to pull myself together.

A knock. Jungkook must have heard my muffled sobs.

“Hyung? Can I come in?”

“W-wait a second”

I wanted to yell, to run away, but the headache rapidly growing and compressing my brain didn’t allow me to. My voice came out in a miserable whisper.

“What should I do?” I thought. Getting up? No way, how could I when even opening my eyes hurt? I was sure that by now my balance was nowhere to be found.

I blindly patted the ground searching for my bathrobe, which luckily wasn’t that far. As soon as I found it, I wrapped myself in it as best as I could.

“Hyung... are you okay?”

“C-come in…”

Eyes still closed, I heard the door creak open. It closed again, and after a couple of seconds, I could feel Jungkook crouched next to me.

“Hyung… do you need help?” he softly whispered.

Tears welled in my eyes at that offer of help. Although all the pain was still there, a sense of relief flooded me. I bit my lip. I hated to be so vulnerable in front of him, the little brother I should have been protecting, but I couldn’t help it. All the tension of that day burst, as a strangled cry escaped my mouth. Jungkook was quick to respond, shutting the lights off and wrapping a towel around my eyes and ears to muffle any external input.

“It’s the migraines again, am I right?” His voice was tainted with worry.

“C-could you bring me my meds? In my bag...”

Jungkook waited for a second, maybe pondering what to do.

“Alright. Wait for me. Don’t move.”

He came back barely a minute later, shutting the door once again.

“Hyung, don’t you want to go lie down on your bed? It’s boiling here…”

I shook my head. “It’s… quieter in here.” He sighed.

“Alright, but sit on the chair over there at least, don’t just lay in the shower booth…”

He gently wrapped his fingers around my wrist.

“I’ll guide you, trust me.” he whispered. Somehow, despite it was quivering, his voice was reassuring.

In the room's darkness, I followed him, moving slowly until I was safely sat on the chair. There, Jungkook unwrapped the towel on my head. I opened my eyes in the comfortable gloom. He handed me the pill and a cup of water. I avidly gulped it down and closed my eyes once again, waiting for the medication to kick in. Jungkook silently stood by me, drying my hair with the towel, gently massaging my scalp, which relieved some of the pressure crushing my skull. Gradually, everything went back to normal. I still felt exhausted and shaky, but at least I could almost function like a normal human being. Sounds didn’t feel as painful, and I was quite sure I could handle the light too. I got up from the chair and switched the lights on. Jungkook jumped up, protectively staying by my side.

I ruffled his hair. “I’m not that dizzy now. You don’t have to worry about me, really.”

“Huh? You’re still so sweaty?” I murmured, wiping the tiny droplets from his forehead.

“Ah… it’s because it’s so hot in here…” he nervously laughed it off.

I frowned. “Jungkook, if you’re feeling sick, just tell me-”

“Wow hyung it’s so late! Leave and go lay down on the bed, so that I can take a shower!”

“Kook-”

“See you later!”

He basically pushed me out of the bathroom and locked himself in.

I banged on the door. “Hey! Don’t lock yourself in! I’m not gonna come in, but please unlock the door! It’s not safe!”

Jungkook sighed and unlocked it. I at once regretted making all that noise, as the sound painfully echoed in my head.

“Not a good idea, got it.” I told to myself, tiredly flopping onto my bed.

“Um... Jiminssi...” a soft voice called. I opened my eyes, searching from the source of that whisper.

My vision was still blurry, but I finally spotted the girl standing in the middle of the room, cheeks flushed.

“Yeah?”

Why was she avoiding looking at me so much? I looked down, and I realized that my chest was completely exposed.

“Oh shit! Uh... sorry... I forgot...”

I hastily closed my bathrobe. What the heck was I thinking when I walked out of the bathroom like that? Well, I wasn’t really in the right mindset to think at all to be fair, and I had been shoved out of the door so... it wasn’t my fault, right? Yin was still standing, eyes glued to the ground and cheeks painted in the darkest shade of red.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t want to interrupt- it’s j-just- a- are you o-okay?”

The girl was completely flustered and embarrassed.

“Um... Jungk- I mean- Mr. Jeon seemed alarmed before, so... I figured that maybe y-you weren’t feeling... well...”

“Ah...” I rubbed my neck, softly smiling. “Yeah, I suffer from migraines occasionally, and I guess today was the day...”

“Thank you for worrying...” I added, desperately trying to break the thick silence that had been growing in the room.

“U-um, I’m sorry to hear that, will you be okay?”

“Yeah, a bit of rest will be enough.”

“I-I’ll let you rest then...” She rushed back to the bathroom on her side of the room.

What had just happened? What an absurd day. I let myself fall back on the bed, exhausted and jumbled. Miraculously, despite Jungkook taking the longest time ever to get ready, we got to the hall in time for the events to begin. Having come just to keep an eye on those two, I wasn’t allowed to take part in most of the activities. And I was perfectly okay with that. I wasn’t keen on literature, and after that morning’s migraine I wasn’t really in the mood to listen to people talking in general, so after making sure Jungkook and Yin were fine, I decided to take that day to relax and calm my nerves. How long had it been since I had this much time on my hands? I wandered around the town for a bit, the brisk morning breeze dancing and running down the streets.

I wasn’t thinking of anything in particular. The lukewarm spring sun shone delightfully, the fugitive scent of unmelted snow running down the valley and freshening the otherwise warm town.

Walking past the small shops, the faint, mellow tones of a piano could be heard. Step by step, I let the notes guide me to a small square. The sweet melody was flowing down from a tiny space, a window of a picturesque wooden house.

Who would have ever guessed that there could be a piano in such a tiny space?

The soft notes carried a familiar feeling with them, but I couldn’t tell if I had ever heard it before. I looked around: the square was completely empty, distant voices being the only sign of human presence. “Why not?” I thought, “I have time. Would it matter if I lost myself in this sweet melody for a bit?”

And so I did: I closed my eyes, and let the notes guide me wherever they wanted. That song was telling a story; it spoke of high, majestic snowy peaks, of warm crackling fires in secret caves, of timid sprouts that gently made their way out of the wet ground, as the earth came back to life. A shy warmth, that slowly melted the ice, the sleepy sky at the break of day, the stars that slowly disappeared to give way to a new sun, a new day.

Where are you taking me? What do you want me to do with these feelings you insinuate in my soul, sweet song?

My feet started moving on their own accord, the trembling excitement of the unknown tingling in my heart, the melancholy of long-lost youthful wishes resurfacing.

I was dancing.

After years of dull living, of walking in someone else’s shoes, of denying any pleasure to myself, there I was.

It was me.

I was still there.

Maybe life wasn’t so bad, after all.

It felt so real, so beautiful. I was light, almost as if I had never stopped dancing. The old dreams, the joy of feeling breathless and exhausted, the excitement of giving it all, the delicacy of the smallest move. Why, why, why did I ever stop? Why did I abandon it when dancing was all of me?

Suddenly, the melody came to its end. The last, melancholic tones echoed in the frigid air, vibrating around me, determined to stay forever and not be forgotten. However, those notes were bound to end, mere instants of blissful art that had no right to live more than a couple of breaths. They shouted, to no avail; for they finally dissolved into the thin air, the mute silence being the only memory of what once was sound, art, life.

I opened my eyes. There I was again, in the empty square. In this sunny, beautiful day, I had witnessed a life blooming, reaching its peak, and then succumbing to its fate, weakly reaching out to me when the world had denied his further existence.

The spell had broken; the brief moment of euphoria had ended. With the end of the song, my freedom had vanished again, and I had been thrown back on earth, alone, in a world that didn’t allow me to be myself.

But was it the world or was it me?

Couldn’t I resume dancing if I wanted to...?

No... not at all. I had made my choice. That night I broke down in tears, as I sent the email in which I refused the scholarship. That was the moment in which I decided I would live for Jungkook, and Jungkook only. Like that song, Jungkook deserved a life, he deserved the world had cruelly robbed him of.

My dear little brother... If life wasn’t going to give him a chance, I was going to create it for him. Life never allowed anyone to go against its fickle wishes. If someone wanted to give life to that song, they had to play the piano, to gift those minutes of their existence to those notes written on a dull piece of paper. When I had decided I would give Jungkook his life back, I was well aware of what I was giving in return. I had given him my life in exchange. I had gifted him my soul, my dear passions, my dancing.

But I had made my choice. It was fine like that. If Jungkook could live, nothing else mattered.

Abandoning everything, leaving Jungkook just to pursue a stupid childhood dream? How had I even allowed myself to think about that? A moment of weakness, an instant of blind letting go. Life had given Jungkook his chance, I had paid the price. Since my wish had been granted, I had no right to dance anymore. Dance didn’t belong to me, my own body didn’t.

I owned nothing.

And it was fine like that.

Never in my life should I have danced anymore. Never should I have fallen into such a sweet and alluring mistake again.

My phone suddenly buzzed.

“Hey Kook…”

“Hyung, how are you? You still seem tired…”

“I’m fine now, everything has passed. How’s it going there?”

“I’ll be finished in 15 minutes; Yin will have to stay until evening.”

“Okay… Why don’t you come over then? We can have lunch together.”

Jungkook hesitated.

“… Alright, where are you?”

“I think I saw a café right next to the hotel. I’ll be waiting you there.”

“Okay. See you later hyung.”

“Bye Gguk-ah.”

Call ended, I looked around, a bit lost. How had I even gotten there? Maybe that way…? Or that way?

It took me a while to find my way back to the hotel, but after seemingly endless wanderings, I finally spotted it and sat down at the café. Not long after, Jungkook walked out of the hotel. He looked around, shading his eyes with an arm until he noticed me. I waved, and he walked up to me, a forced smile on his face. Something was definitely up.

“How was the literature thing?” I tested the ground, casually sipping my drink.

“It was fine I guess…” he unsurely murmured.

“… You didn’t listen at all, did you?”

He smiled. “You caught me. I didn’t. I couldn’t keep my mind on what we were talking about.”

“Well, I guess that happens sometimes, even to the great Jeon Jungkook”

“Ah… stop it hyung…”

“Would you like to order?” The waiter interrupted the conversation.

Jungkook looked a bit lost.

“Ah… yes, thank you. Jungkook, I’ve already ordered my stuff, but I didn’t know what you would like so… you can order now.” I pushed the menu towards him.

He nodded uncomfortably, avoiding my gaze. He helplessly stared at it, discomfort clearly visible on his face despite all his efforts.

“Uh… well… I’ll take this one then.” He murmured. The waiter walked away.

Jungkook let out an exhausted sigh. He clearly had his mind on something, or on many things.

“Are you sure you’re feeling well?”

He jumped to my question.

“Yes, I’m fine. J-just a bit tired after not sleeping yesterday, it’s hard to focus, sorry. But- anyway hyung. You shouldn’t drink beer… you know, the migraine… and the pills…”

My eyes jumped to the beer can in front of me, half empty already. Oh shit. How irresponsible was I? I was definitely out of my mind. When did I think having alcohol around Jungkook was a good idea? Yes, he had never gotten drunk on beer, but still, it could trigger a relapse. This day hadn’t started well at all. I was making mistake after mistake when it came to taking care of Jungkook, what was I gonna do next?

“Ah… you’re right. I won’t drink any more… I’m sorry I’ve drunk it… in front of you Kook. This might be hard for you… I-I’ll throw it immediately away!”

And I did as I said. I shoved it into the nearest trash can and came back to the table.

“Hyung… you didn’t have to throw it away just for me…”

“It’s fine… It’s better for you and for me”

Jungkook nodded, staring at the table. He pursed his lips together, trying to hide a quiver.

“Hey kook. What’s wrong?” I immediately stood up, alarmed. But he shook his head, gesturing me to sit down.

“It’s… fine” he murmured, putting much effort into pronouncing every syllable without bursting into tears.

He blinked furiously, taking deep breaths until he was calmer.

“I’m sorry, It’s nothing.” He finally murmured, his voice still quivering with hidden emotions.

“… I’m just a bit of a nerve wreck because of the new things happening and stuff… I’ve noticed too… since when I stopped taking the emotion stabilizers everything feels very strong… but I like it better that way. It’s… real.” He smiled, nervously.

I held his hands. “I’m very proud of you, you know that?”

“Ah hyung, let’s not talk about me please… what about you? Why are your migraines coming so soon? It hasn’t been more than a week since the last one.”

“It’s probably because I’m a bit stressed out…” I murmured, smiling.

“It’s nothing to worry about, though. I have my meds, it’ll pass. I’m sorry you had to see me in such a state twice already. I’m not a great nurse, am I?” I chuckled bitterly.

“You’re crazy if you think so. What should I say? I’ve passed out hundreds of times, I’ve been weak and wept like a child in front of you. No matter how many times it happens, it’s so embarrassing… but you always take good care of me… And even yesterday you were right-”

He looked nervous again and didn’t utter a word for a while. The food finally arrived to break our uncomfortable silence.

As I ate, I kept looking at him. He was Just playing with his food, nibbling at it deep into his thoughts. Eyebrows furrowed, he munched on his lips rather than on food.

“Kook… you have something on your mind… but you’re not telling me. What’s bothering you?”

“Uh...?”

“You’re playing with your food. And you haven’t said a word in ten minutes.”

“You aren’t talking either…”

“Just because I can tell you’re uncomfortable with something.”

He sighed, putting down his spoon. “I’m not that hungry…”

“You sure nothing else’s on your mind? Are you feeling bad? Are you queasy?”

“E-everything’s fine hyung.”

I sighed.

“Alright then. I’m not convinced, let’s be clear; but let’s just finish eating and go back to the hotel. I think we both need plenty of rest.”

Chapter Text

External POV

The boys came back to the hotel without saying a single word.

Jimin was furious. His feelings switched between anger and pity, guilt and apprehension. Jungkook was definitely hiding something, an unknown sickness and something else, much more serious, darker. Jimin just wanted to help, and Jungkook wasn’t allowing him. Besides, the more Jimin tortured himself with remorse, the more he became bitter and angry, and reacted aggressively to Jungkook’s refusals, worsening the situation.

In this mood, Jimin stomped into the room, determined not to interact with Jungkook, afraid of what he could do or say now that he was closer than ever to losing his temper. Rather, he would take a shower to soothe his boiling anger. While getting a clean t-shirt from his drawers, though, his eyes met Jungkook’s. The younger boy quietly flopped on his bed. He was pale and seemed pretty out of it. Just by looking at him, Jimin could tell he was in pain. The urge to help him only grew the more he watched him.

“Gguk-ah.”

“Mhh?” the boy groggily answered.

“Be honest, please… You’re sick, aren’t you?”

Jimin extended a hand towards Jungkook’s forehead, but the latter immediately swatted it away.

“It’s just a cold, I’m fine.” He spat, glaring at Jimin.

They both knew that it was a blatant lie. Jungkook didn’t feel good at all. His forehead was beaded with cold sweat, his eyes reddened by the scorching fever that furiously burned inside him. Every sound painfully echoed inside his head, leaving him dazed and exhausted. And Jimin could see it all, as clear as daylight.

“Jungkook”

“What.”

“I might act cute, cheerful, and stupid sometimes, but I’m not so easily fooled. Even your attitude gives it away. You’re even clutching your stomach, you’re obviously in pain.”

Irritated, Jungkook snappily changed position, which he immediately regretted. His lips contorted in a grimace.

Jimin sighed, impatience creeping up on him. “You don’t have to prove anything to me. If clutching your stomach makes you feel better, then go on.”

Jimin got up and began rummaging through the countless medicines he had carried with him. He had brought something for every situation, although not in substantial amounts.

“Damn it,” he thought, staring at the Tylenol blister, which only had two pills left. “This can barely last for today, but based on how Jungkook looks right now… I need to get my hands on more than this.”

He didn’t even know if there was a pharmacy in that small town. But there had to be one, right? How would people be able to live there otherwise? The worry of not being able to properly take care of his friend only fueled Jimin’s internal turmoil. He had come unprepared and was now faced with the consequences and the decisions to take.

If he had known earlier, he might have been better prepared. Jimin was growing uneasy, countless “if only” popping up in his head. Unnerved by the whole situation and hesitant about what had to be done, Jimin turned around, and caught a flash of remorse in Jungkook’s eyes. At the view, his heart melted into a puddle. Jungkook sat confusedly on the edge of the bed, a lost puppy with lowered ears. He had timidly wrapped his arms back around his stomach, and after their eye contact, he hadn’t dared to raise his eyes from the cold floor.

Jimin reluctantly eyed the medicines he had picked up. His original plan of throwing them on the floor and storming out of the room as a retaliation for Jungkook’s whims didn’t seem as appealing as he had initially imagined. Embarrassed by his rage towards such a pitiful creature, with a half-smile appearing on his lips, he cast his own pride aside and sat on the bed. As he did so, his anger was quenched, and in its stead, deep pity and tenderness grew.

“Kookie... Look here. If you’re feeling nauseated, take this one, this one instead if your nose is too runny. These are vitamins, take one now and two pills in the evening before dinner and...” as he looked up, he noticed Jungkook was helplessly staring at the pile of indistinguishable pills. A small chuckle escaped the older boy’s lips. He got up and rummaged in his backpack. Jungkook curiously watched, wondering what his hyung could be looking for.

“Found them!” Jimin exclaimed, walking back to the bed with a triumphant look. In his hands he held small star-shaped sticky notes and a black pen. He started writing instructions for every medicine, with his characteristic cute handwriting that could heal someone just by looking at it. He filled the blank spaces with small hearts and stars. It was his own way of subtly expressing the affection and care Jungkook would have probably refused if he had given it openly at such a time.

Jungkook, with pouty lips that intended to seem intimidating and tiny gestures of impatience and prideful displeasure, rather than a responsible adult, resembled a child trying to act like a big boy.

Jimin completed his meticulous work by sticking one note right on Jungkook’s burning forehead. Then he patted Jungkook’s head. He gave him a sad smile. Jungkook’s whole body was radiating an incredible amount of heat.

“Since when…?” Jimin murmured, searching for truth in Jungkook’s eyes. Of course, he didn’t speak, but he knew how to get his answers.

“Yesterday?” he tentatively asked: but he didn’t see any change in the boy’s eyes.

“This morning?” he tried again; and this time Jungkook lowered his gaze. There it was: the answer he was looking for. So that was why Jungkook looked so weary and flushed this morning. Jimin could only imagine what it must have felt like stepping into the steamy, hot bathroom, when Jungkook had helped him get over his migraines.

He admired Jungkook for his willpower, his pushing through his struggles to help someone in need. Although he wanted to say it aloud, he wasn’t sure it was the right time to do so: Jungkook was stubborn enough already. The line between being selfless and throwing yourself away was very thin, and Jimin didn’t want Jungkook to fall down whatever bottomless pit of misery he himself had already sunk into.

Becoming so tired and weak that you become the one in need, that was Jimin’s nightmare, what had been tormenting him lately. But getting better would have meant weighing on others, abandoning people he currently helped, and he was too deep into his role to ever do that. But this wasn’t the time to cry over spilled milk. His hand was still on the boy’s head. As he was reminded of Jungkook condition, his mind was flooded by doubts.

Was it okay for Jungkook to go around in that state? Obviously not, but would he accept to spend at least a couple of days in bed? No, he wouldn’t. What if Jungkook pushed himself too much, and it got worse? He only had limited resources after all. Jimin let his hand slide down to Jungkook’s shoulder. He remembered their discussion the day before the departure.

The boy was looking at him, waiting for him to speak, uneasiness growing the more the silence thickened between them.

“Kook. I can’t force you to do anything. I’ve promised you, I’m not gonna babysit you. So, I’m just gonna give you advice, like a doctor to his patient.”

“Well, I’m just a nurse...” he corrected himself, smiling. “But you don’t need a doctor to know these basic things.”

“Anyway... When you get sick, it’s usually nothing serious. Or at least, it wouldn’t be if you didn’t keep working even when you need rest. But.... what I meant is that it would be best for you to stay in bed for at least a couple of days.”

Jungkook’s eyes flashed with immediate displeasure.

“But you wouldn’t listen to me if I told you so. Instead, what I can tell you is to pace yourself. If you stick only to the necessary things, take your medicines and are careful not to overwork yourself, then I think you can easily get better.”

Jungkook nodded.

“Good. Then I’ll leave it up to you. Do what you think is best.”

Jimin patted his shoulder and brought him a glass of cold water. “Take those two pills, they should make your fever go down at least a bit” he pointed at one of the boxes scattered on the bed.

Jimin then went to take a shower.

As if awoken by the sound of the water running, Jungkook swallowed the pills, gobbling the water, which momentarily soothed his parched throat. A bit dazed, he realized he still had the sticky note on his forehead. He looked at it, squinting his eyes.

“Don’t lie, stupid.” he smiled softly, and glanced at the medicines that his hyung had left on the bed. Unable to focus on anything, he stood there, boiling in his own skin, confusedly looking around.

When Jimin came out of the shower not more than 30 minutes later, he found Jungkook still on the bed, in the same spot he had been occupying before. Getting closer, he noticed he was dozing off, still holding the mug in his hands. Giggling, Jimin removed Jungkook’s glasses, which had slid forward on his nose, put everything aside and tried to make him lie down in a decent position.

“I’m fine, I’m fine” the boy confusedly murmured, stirring a bit, and resisting Jimin’s hands.

“Yes, yes, you’re fine; now sleep” Jimin chuckled, forcing him to lie down. Already half asleep, Jungkook didn’t resist anymore.

“I’ll wake you up before dinner.”

But the words didn’t register in Jungkook’s brain. He was too far gone to hear anything. As Jimin moved a strand of hair from Jungkook’s forehead, his eyes darkened with worry. Had he taken the medicine? Yes, he had; the blister was empty. Then why did Jungkook’s temperature seem to have risen even more? He shook his head. Apprehension was getting the best of him. He took out a small, portable thermometer, just to be sure. If his senses couldn’t help him, at least he would make use of technology to have a more objective point of view.

After a couple of minutes, the object started beeping. He quickly silenced it, desperate not to wake Jungkook up, although not even a full orchestra would have been able to stir him as tired as he was.

38,5 °C

This was bad indeed. Jimin wasn’t going crazy: it had really gotten worse. Jimin placed a hand on his burning forehead. He nervously walked to the bathroom and soaked a small towel in cold water.

“I’ll go buy the medicines later. I’m not leaving him alone like this.” He thought, sitting back next to the boy.

It’s not like a simple fever could kill the boy. But given the recent events, Jimin didn’t have the heart to leave the boy unguarded.

Jungkook slept heavily, falling deeper and deeper in feverish dreams. It wasn’t the peaceful sleep Jimin had hoped Jungkook could get. Rather, from the way his eyebrows were knitted together most of the time, it looked like he was having nightmares. Jimin remained by his side.

If only he hadn’t lied from the start, Jimin could have given him medications sooner, could have soothed his pain. But after all, maybe if the day before, in the middle of the night, he hadn’t yelled at him it was going to be his fault if he got sick, he wouldn’t have reacted this way. The only thing Jimin could do now was staying by his side and taking care of him the best he could.

It was unusual, though, for Jungkook to have as many nightmares as he was having.

Jungkook’s mood had progressively gotten worse in the past 2 days. Was it the fever? Partly, yes, but he wasn’t sick yesterday. There was something more. Jungkook was a ticking bomb, ready to burst at any given moment. Was he going to relapse? Jimin wasn’t sure, but what he was certain of was that whatever was bothering him was becoming heavier and heavier on his mind. Had it been a good idea to let him go to this convention? How could he think this was a good idea? Jungkook and Yin in the same place for 5 days. Jimin now wondered how he could have agreed to such a stupid thing.

Jungkook was so determined to make it though, so sure of himself that he had eventually let him go. Not that he could do much to prevent that. Jimin had no power over Jungkook’s choices, and although he would usually listen to him, there was nothing he could do if Jungkook decided to do otherwise. Since Jungkook hadn’t openly told him what else was bothering him, he couldn’t be sure, but he imagined it was related to the girl and his past. Something was going on between those two, and he couldn’t understand whether it was positive or negative.

It was only a matter of time. He knew something would soon happen.

-------------------------------

In his feverish sleep, Jungkook wandered from nightmare to nightmare, terrible and blurred events cast a gloomy shadow of fear over his heart. When, an hour later, Jimin gently stirred him from his agitated slumber, the blackness in his heart had become so real that it felt like a presence. Its blazing breath was right next to Jungkook’s ears, its sharp claws heavily rested over his shoulders.

Of the continuous stream of nightmares which he had been overwhelmed by, he could now only remember blurry and shattered fragments. One of them towered over the ruins of his conscience: darkest of all, terrifying, because it resembled reality too much. In a pitch-black world, amidst sinister whispers, Jungkook had heard his brother’s voice. It was distant, unreachable, but extremely clear. Was it really his brother? Where was he? Jungkook looked around, quivering in fear as dark, menacing shadows appeared and faded in the corner of his eyes.

“Junghyun?” he unsurely called.

The voice rose again: “Hyung!”

His heart clenched in horror. Jungkook’s instincts told him he’d better find his brother quickly.

“Junghyun! Where are you?”

Out of the murky gloom, far away in the distance, he thought a crimson light was shining. Drawn by the urgent requests of help, he walked in that direction.

A step, two, three. The new hope gave him the strength to quicken his pace, despite everything around him was getting more asphyxiating. The air too, heavy, thick, and black, flooded his lungs at every ragged breath. How long had it been? A minute? Two? He was drained and lost in an endless black world. His movements came to a halt, and he rested his hands on his legs, trying to catch his breath.

“Hyung! I’m here!”

The pale gleam now fluttered in the gloom to his left. Pulling himself together, Jungkook resumed running. His lungs burned, trickles of sweat rolled down his face, tears fogged up his vision. A new haziness had fallen on Jungkook. The more he ran, the harder it became to keep his eyes open. But every time he slowed down, succumbing to his weakness, the voice called again, and he picked his pace up with renewed will.

“Junghyun! I’m coming! I’ll protect you I swear!” his voice was hoarse. In his frenzy, he barely noticed the black void had turned into a marsh-like, thorny path. He painstakingly trudged on, bare feet already sinking in the dark mud. Vines were extending their tentacles, creeping up his feet and legs, hindering his restless run.

But still he carried on. His skin burned, torn by the evil plants. The pain was unbearable, but his brother’s screams had become more desperate and pained.

“Junghyun! Hang in there! Wait for me!”

The creeping plants were becoming thicker and more tangled, crueller, determined in their resolve to cut the path off and stop his desperate run. Jungkook was about to succumb to the monstrous vegetation. He could feel the viscid plants tightening their deathly grip around him, so much so his bones might shatter.

But just when he thought he couldn’t handle it any longer, a terrible thunder echoed over his head. With hisses and gurgles, the vines abandoned their prey and sneaked back into the thick, dark fog. Unexpectedly freed from the constrictions, Jungkook fell to the ground, wheezing and coughing; his body was wrecked.

“Hyung!”

This time the voice was much closer. With the last forces he could gather, he crawled forward, towards the now dazzling light. A new terror grew in him as he heard the voice getting closer but weaker. As he limped forward, the ground turned into cracked asphalt. His brother’s voice was nothing more than a mere whisper. He crawled on until he crashed into something. It clattered. Slowly, he raised his head, and realized that what was standing in front of him was a stretcher.

A stretcher. Nothing good had ever come from that. His blood ran cold: a hand, pale and white, hung limp from the surface. Holding onto the creaking stretcher, Jungkook pulled himself up. He extended a trembling hand over the covered figure. Still shaking, he grabbed the heavy blanket that was covering the body to take it off.

But he couldn’t do it.

He let himself fall onto his knees.

In front of his eyes, the crimson sun was slowly sinking into the bloodstained sea, a terrible, dark dusk taking over the world, in the same way it had done eight years before. Petrified, still holding onto the stretcher Jungkook helplessly stared as all light left the world.

In the void all around him, whispers echoed. When he lifted his eyes from the ground, the pale hand was gone. With a terrified gasp, he frantically patted the stretcher. His hands met nothing but the cold metal.

Then, a bloody hand grabbed onto his feet.

“Liar!”

With a gasp, Jungkook woke up, completely drenched in sweat. The vivid memories of his dream lingered in his eyes.

“Kook…”

Jungkook jumped at Jimin’s touch, getting into a sitting position so rapidly that for a moment his vision became spotty, and everything spun around him.

“Jungkook… it’s dinner time. Just stay here, hmm? There’s no need for you to come down in this state.”

Jungkook was sure he had heard Jimin speak, but what had he said, he did not know.

What had happened? He had fallen asleep it seemed, and had all those nightmares… but what was going on now? He was feeling worse than before, a terrible headache pounded into his skull.

Jungkook stared into Jimin’s eyes, dazed, and lost. Jimin forced him to lie down once again, placing a hand on his forehead. Jungkook would have immediately slapped Jimin’s hand away, but he didn’t have the mental cohesion to do so. Moreover, Jimin’s hand was cold, and brought a sense of relief to him.

“Your fever is still quite high. Not as high as before though.” Jimin murmured, placing a damp cloth on the boy’s forehead.

Jungkook sighed, and was almost asleep when he jolted awake, eyes open, terrified. He didn’t want to sleep. He desperately needed to, but the black fear still reigned over his heart.

Jimin could see it in Jungkook’s eyes, something was wrong. What could he do? He stared at the boy, drenched in sweat, agitated, and fighting against his body. At least he should have helped him change into clean clothes, he thought. That would have given him some sort of relief and hopefully distracted him from whatever he was thinking of. He came back with Jungkook’s pyjama, but as he started unbuttoning Jungkook’s shirt, Jungkook’s hand weakly grabbed his. The boy’s mind had slowly started collaborating in the meantime, and he was becoming more aware of his surroundings.

“What are you doing?” Jungkook asked, his voice hoarse.

Jimin held up the fresh pajama. “I’m helping you change into this. Your clothes are uncomfortable and drenched in sweat. It’s best if you put fresh clothes on and get back to sleep.”

Jimin spoke slowly, waiting for Jungkook to understand everything he had said.

“But I don’t want to sleep” Jungkook replied, chills running down his spine at the mere thought.

Jimin had noticed the uneasiness and fear in his voice but didn’t think much of it. He had just woken up and still had a high fever. He didn’t expect him to be totally okay. At least it now seemed like he was listening, and he also answered coherently. That was good.

“Well, at least change into this, you’ll feel better.”

“But what about dinner? I can’t go out in a pyjama…” he frowned.

“Kook… I’ve told you before… you’re too sick. It’s best if you don’t come down for dinner. If you’re hungry, I’ll bring you some food. Now let me help you change and then get some rest.”

But Jungkook wouldn’t budge. His hands were firmly crossed over his chest.

“I’ll come to dinner. I’m fine. I don’t need any more sleep.” He muttered with a considerable amount of effort, shooting menacing glares.

“You can barely talk. I won’t let you come down like this.”

“Don’t tell me what to do” the boy hissed, slowly moving his legs to the edge of the bed.

“Are you kidding me? Don’t be stupid. You’re sick, and you’ll be dizzy if you try to get up. I can’t let you leave this room.”

Jungkook glared at him angrily. “You can’t fucking force me to stay in bed. I’ll come down to dinner, I said. Now, you can either help me change into new clothes, or watch me do it by myself.” And with a quick movement, he got onto his feet.

With a squeak of terror, Jimin jumped to his side, hugging him to make sure he didn’t fall. As Jimin had predicted, he was dizzy, and swayed, Jimin’s tight embrace being the only thing that held him upright. But it didn’t matter, Jungkook thought. He’d rather feel terrible than spend another minute in that room.

“Sit back down, you idiot.” Jimin muttered, forcing him to rest his tired limbs on the bed. “Fine. I’ll help you change into your stupid clothes.” He stomped to Jungkook’s drawers and chose the comfiest pieces of clothing he could find.

With shaky steps, Jimin always at his side, Jungkook took a quick, refreshing shower and slid into clean clothes.

“Are you sure you want to come?” Jimin murmured as he gently dried Jungkook’s hair with a towel.

Jungkook thought about it once again. He was tired and weak, and the fever was still quite high. Dazed and confused as he was, his memories a jumbled collage of indistinguishable fractions of time, he couldn’t even remember whether he had taken medicine or not. But he dreaded the idea of remaining alone in that room with his demons.

With Jimin by his side, he was calmer. The constant presence digging his incandescent claws deep into his skin and blowing scorching air over his neck had become a bit lighter. But as soon as Jimin and his refreshing touch would fade, Jungkook knew what would happen: fear would invade his heart, his breath would hitch at every whisper, making it impossible for him to get any rest. There was no way he could survive alone in that damned sweltering room. He had to get out of there, to get out of his thoughts. He had no intention of facing his fears alone, not now. If he closed his eyes, he could still remember the feeling of that viscid hand around his ankle, he could hear the rough voice yelling at him. He didn’t have the strength to tell Jimin. Even talking about it would make the fear grow, and his chest tighten painfully.

“Yes. I want to come.”

----------------------------------------------

Making their way to the hall, Jimin walked extremely close to Jungkook, staring at his trembling legs.

“You know you don’t have to prove anything to anyone, right? Nobody would blame you for staying in bed if you’re sick…” Jimin murmured.

Jungkook ignored him completely and kept his focus on staying upright. Yin was already seated at the table, and when she noticed them approaching, she waved at them. With an effort, Jungkook sat down, releasing a silent huff of relief.

“Are you dizzy Kook?” Jimin placed a hand on his back.

Jungkook shook his head. This time, at least, he wasn’t lying. The black spots in his vision had gradually subsided, and he felt much better now that he was sitting down. Besides, the fresh air that came from the windows helped clear his steamy mind.

The girl stared at them, curious and worried. His teacher hadn’t been exactly too focused that morning, and now he looked much worse. Jimin’s apprehensive state made it obvious to her something was wrong.

“Mr. Jeon...is everything alright?”

Jungkook snapped out of his trance at the student’s words. “I’m fine, thank you. I’ve just caught a cold, nothing serious.”

Jimin sighed. “He has a fever. It would have been better if he had remained in bed, but he didn’t want to listen to me...”

Jungkook shot him a glare.

“What do you want? I’m telling the truth.”

The younger boy rolled his eyes in annoyance.

“You know... our Jungkookie... when he’s sick, he can get very stubborn.”

Jimin murmured, smiling tenderly, as the other shot him death threats through his eyes.

“That’s not it.” He lowly muttered.

“Then why didn’t you stay in bed?”

Jungkook didn’t answer. Jimin noticed that under the table, he was nervously fiddling with the hem of his shirt.

“Okay, let’s stop talking about him. What about you, Yin? How are you feeling?”

The girl smiled. “Much better. I felt much more energized than yesterday. I’m even hungry now.”

Jungkook’s discomfort eased as he heard the improvement the girl had made.

“That’s good!” Jimin exclaimed.

“But I wanted to ask something...” the girl mumbled under her breath; eyes glued to the table.

“Anything you want, sweetheart.”

“... what if I tried eating something different?”

“What?” Jimin asked, dumbfounded.

“I wanted to try expanding what I can eat. Maybe… chicken could work?” the girl murmured.

Jimin held her hands in his, looking at her straight in the eyes.

“Sweetie… Are you 100% sure? There’s no need to rush things. If you feel comfortable just with eating soup right now, we can wait for the rest. You ate grapes today, that was an excellent result already.”

“But I think I can do it! I want to try, please…”

Jungkook’s eyes flickered with hope.

“Hyung... why not? If she says she’s ready, shouldn’t we encourage her?” Jungkook murmured, pulling Jimin’s arm so that he would listen to him.

The possibility that she could not be ready for such a meal didn’t even cross Jungkook’s mind. Jimin had said she had improved a lot recently, right? Maybe yesterday she was just a bit tired and didn’t eat much, but now she must be feeling better. What would be wrong with chicken, anyway? Maybe he just wanted to believe it was okay, to prove to himself she wasn’t like Junghyun, that everything was different.

“It’s just... don’t you rememb-” Jimin stopped short. What really troubled him was how Jungkook would have reacted if she failed to eat chicken. He was sick, nervous, and agitated. Any setback in her recovery would have had a much worse effect on Jungkook, now more than ever. The despair after hope, that was the worst one. Falling in the gloomiest pit after having seen light.

Why, why, of all times, it had to be now?

And what about the girl? How was she going to react at that? It would probably be easier to hearten her than Jungkook, but he wasn’t sure he could handle the two of them together.

“Are you really, really sure?” he asked once again.

The sparkle in her eyes confirmed it.

“Yes.”

Jimin rubbed his temples. There was a slight discomfort creeping up at the back of his head.

“Fine… but keep in mind it might still be too soon. Be prepared to be disappointed, it can happen, and we can always take a step back and start again. We’re not in a rush, we can take all the time we need. Healing is not easy, and... Just be ready to accept it, okay?”

Jimin was looking at Yin, but he also squeezed one of Jungkook’s hands. It was a warning. He intended to say: this goes for you too. Don’t forget it. Was Jungkook even listening? He did not know. He glanced at him, but the only thing he could read on his face was exhaustion.

 Jungkook was burning up. He uncomfortably shifted in his chair, desperately wanting for it all to be over. He had hoped that walking out of that room would have made him feel better, but the loud voices of the chattering people around them painfully echoed in his head, making it impossible for him to think straight.

The table fell into an uncomfortable silence, filled with anticipation and apprehension. As they waited for the food, Jimin nervously glanced at Jungkook. His cheeks were flushed, sweat was dampening his forehead all over again, and yet he shivered uncontrollably. His eyes were heavy, and wandered lazily on the table, as if searching for something on which to rest for a bit. When Jimin thought he couldn’t let Jungkook stay any longer, seeing how he was swaying, the waiter arrived.

As he had expected, Yin’s initial excitement had faded as soon as the chicken breast had been set in front of her. She stared at it with fear, not daring to touch it.

Jungkook gazed at the girl as she struggled to convince herself to even take a bite out of the meal in front of her. She cut a piece and held it up. But after an interminable pause, she eventually dropped the fork, helplessly staring at the plate.

“I thought… I thought I was ready but… I can’t eat it.” She murmured, her voice feeble and her eyes lowered.

Jungkook’s heart painfully throbbed in his chest. Only now had he realized the scene happening in front of him. The untouched food, the girl’s disappointment as she didn’t manage to eat, to make progress. That look on her face, her hunched shoulders. His family dinners flashed before his eyes. All those times his parents forced his brother to eat, and he couldn’t. Fear propagated in his heart all over again. What if they couldn’t help her? Skinny, unable to eat the simplest foods. She was going to end up like his brother.

All the helplessness, the terror, it all came back to him. Memories kept flashing before his eyes, tearing his heart apart. He remembered the girl collapsing in his arms, her skinny, frail limbs, her pallor on that nursery bed, the time he had run away from home, the fights with his family, the bloody sun sinking into the despair of night, his brother’s lifeless corpse being carried away on a stretcher. He remembered his pain, the cries, the blood, the alcohol, the medications that annihilated everything and anything.

She was going down that path.

One day, she would stop eating completely. She would become even skinnier, her lips would turn white and chapped, her skin so thin that you could see through her. Yin would become a shell of what she once was. She would lose the sparkle in her eyes. All of this would happen gradually, in front of their eyes, and he wouldn’t be able to stop it. One day, she would suddenly lose consciousness, would be taken away by an ambulance and before he could see her one last time...

She would exhale her last breath, laid on a bare, rusty stretcher. She was bound to disappear, in the silent twilight, under a crimson, dying sun, under the cruel stars of a ceaseless night.

 As Jungkook lifted his eyes, a figure appeared behind the girl. His heart quivered when he noticed the resemblance with his brother. The boy grinned at him. His eyes were hollow, his face gaunt and white, hands as claws.

The monster chuckled. “Don’t look so scared. It’s me, your brother. She’s gonna end up like me, you know it, right?”

Jungkook planted his elbows on the table, shakingly pushed his sweaty hair back.

“Oh, she will… and you won’t be able to do anything. You’re just the same as eight years ago...”

“…hyung” he growled.

He couldn’t bear it. He couldn’t stand that sight any longer. He jumped up, panting, visibly shaken and upturn. Despite the high fever, his face had turned as white as a sheet. Dizziness made him tremble and sway, but he didn’t care. He didn’t even wait for it to fade. He blindly staggered towards the exit.

“Run… run…” the monster chuckled.

Jimin anxiously dashed behind him. “Jungkook!”

“For god’s sake Jungkook stop walking!”

As Jungkook set a foot outside in the cold air of the night, Jimin fiercely grabbed his arm.

“Hyung l-let m-me go,” Jungkook pleaded.

“Are you okay? Let’s go back inside. You’re in no condition to walk outside.” He tightly held onto Jungkook, not daring to drag him in fear that he could lose his balance and fall.

“I can’t… I c-can’t g-go back, I... he’s there, I…”

Jungkook leaned on the nearby wall, chest heaving up and down. He passed a shaky hand through his hair.

“Who’s there?”

As soon as his vision cleared a bit, Jungkook moved a step forward. Jimin stopped him once again.

“Who did you see, Jungkook? And where do you think you’re going?”

“It’s not your damn business!” He snapped back angrily.

“Jungkookie…” Jimin softened his voice, still tightly gripping his arm. “What’s wrong? I-I can bring you back to the room, I’ll stay there with you- I- Cuddles? What about cuddles? I’ll carry you there and we can lie on the bed and chill out- I- maybe you can take a bath, a-anything you want, but please, come inside...” he desperately murmured.

“I need some fresh air.” Jungkook coldly muttered, trying to free himself from the painful grip.

“But you’re sick, I can’t let you go-”

“Leave me the fuck alone!” He yelled, panting. His eyes were wide, terror burning in them.

Jimin stared at him, horrified. He couldn’t believe it. Never had Jungkook been so angry at him in his whole life, never so rude, not even when he would come home drunk.

Jungkook lowered his eyes, exhausted.

“Just… let me go… don’t follow me… please…” Jungkook whispered, his voice quivering, eyes filling with tears of despair.

Jimin didn’t respond, still shocked. Feeling that his grip had softened, Jungkook quickly freed himself from Jimin’s hands.

Jimin watched him wobbling away until he disappeared behind a corner into the black night.

Jimin’s knees gave out, and with a sob he let himself flop on the ground, helplessly staring at the sky.

“What now?”

Chapter Text

External POV

Jungkook roamed the town, shivering in the chilly dusk. In other circumstances, he might have thought of the beauty of it. As the bloodshot sun disappeared behind the mountains, a sense of dread invaded his heart.

“If only I could get out of that asphyxiating room… I would forget about that dream.”

That was what he had thought. And so he had left, he had wobbled down to the hall, and still there, amidst the cheerful chattering and blinding lights, the voice had grown louder; the shadow had become darker.

“I need to go outside”, he had thought; away from that girl, away from that demon, whose laugh he could still hear in the distance.

But now that he was outside, it was worse than ever. He felt the urge to go back, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to face the countless questions he would be subjected to.

He was completely powerless. His heart pleaded for him to forget everything, to hide, to stop the endless suffering.

He wandered into a small shop, and before he knew it, he was walking out with a bottle of soju in his hands. Eager to hand his conscience over to dear oblivion, he hastily uncapped the bottle and brought it to his lips. He took a long sip, the familiar burn in his throat made him feel at home for the first time in years. Before he knew it, he had downed half a bottle. Dizziness had already begun creeping on him, turning his thoughts into a jumbled, hazy mess.

Only then, looking at the bottle in his hands, did he realize what he had just done.

Years. Years of rehab centers, of struggling to win against that urge to drown himself in alcohol, all the suffering his hyungs had to endure, just for him to throw it all away the first night he went out on his own?

Jungkook bitterly laughed to himself.

How many times was he going to come back to this? It had been two years since he hadn’t drunk, nevertheless, he fell right back into it at the first struggle.

He stared at the bottle he still held in his hands. A wave of regret, fear, pure disgust took over him.

History was repeating once again. It was only a matter of time before…

Everything that Yoongi had told him now seemed absurd.  

“You aren’t the same powerless child anymore.”

Jungkook shook his head. What a load of bullshit.

It had been bullshit all along; he had been lying to himself the whole time, every single one of his hyungs had lied to him. Jungkook wouldn’t get better; it was always the same. Life had given him a brief moment of happiness just to take everything away once again. It had given him something to cling onto, just to punish him harder and kick him down the darkest abyss of despair.

The bottle slipped out of his hands, shattering to the ground. Dark clouds rumbled menacingly over his head. A group of teenagers walked past him. They were laughing and playfully hitting each other.

Was that happiness? Had he ever known that? Was that something people were allowed to have? He didn’t remember how it felt to be happy and carefree.

“Hyung!”

Jungkook turned around, heart racing. Since the day Junghyun died, Jungkook swore he wouldn’t let anyone call him hyung ever again. Failing to protect his little brother had made him unworthy of such a title.

His lids were heavy, the fever burning in his body worse than before. He shivered in the cold, staggering around aimlessly, the blackest despair filling his heart.

Why did he even care? He couldn’t help the girl, nor could his hyungs, so what was the point?

It had been an impossible battle all along: Having the pretense to save someone, to force that cunning voice out of their head, to bring them on the right path.

Towards which path were they leading her, when they themselves were lost in dark woods infested by lies and faulty coping mechanisms? They didn’t know the way.

A drop, two.

Was he crying?

No, it wasn’t him. Heavy drops slowly poured down from the sky. The cold rain drenched everything in its mournful tears.

Jungkook wasn’t even looking at the ground anymore. Step after step, he stumbled around, his chest tightening at every breath. The world was mercilessly spinning, the rain not murmuring anymore, but screaming, striking Jungkook’s body, his brother’s voice echoing all around him.

“Stop it…” he murmured once in a while, as he turned around, expecting that shadow to be right behind him.

“Leave me alone! Stop tormenting me!”

The more he yelled, the more the voices closed in, and guilt teared his heart. He was nothing. He was worthless. Junghyun kept calling and calling, and he couldn’t do anything to save him. The girl was in need, and he didn’t even have the strength to stay by her side. Could he even be considered a man?

With a desperate lament, he let himself fall to the ground, wheezing under the endless downpour.

He laughed, cried, yelled, pleaded. The world melted into him, he into the world, the rain turned into his tears, the ground into his heavy body, the screeching of the storm was his own, broken voice.

“Why… why… why am I alive… it’s all my fault… if I had saved him… if… I’m sorry, if only I had the strength…”

“Junghyun… kill me… it’s my fault… everything… I killed you… I murdered you… it was me”

“Everyone… you should never forgive me for what I did to you… hit me… end me… please…”

He kept blurting out incomprehensible pleads, imploring the rain for punishment, torn between wanting to be punished and be able to forget. His arms were trembling, trying to sustain his body, to force it not to give into sleep.

But it was all too much.

Eventually, he slumped onto the cold ground. His ears rang with deafening screams, his vision went blurry, and before he knew it, everything had faded into silent blackness.

-------------------------------------

What was Jimin going to do? How could he make sure Jungkook was okay? Maybe… maybe he would come back on his own, right? But given how sick he was, how could he possibly have enough strength to do so? Whatever happened, sitting there wouldn’t help anyone.

He stared at his watch. Half an hour, yes, he was going to wait half an hour and then, if Jungkook hadn’t come back, he would go out and look for him.

Jimin took a deep breath and walked back into the noisy dinner room. A pang of guilt hit him when he saw the girl still sat at the table, staring at that untouched plate of chicken. He had run after Jungkook without even saying a word to her; he had left her there alone with her destructive thoughts for God knows how long.

He sat back down and swallowed one of his pills, hoping the lurking migraine would dissipate before getting the chance of hindering his decision-making. He had to stay awake, ready for whatever might happen.

“Hey, are you okay? I’m… really sorry about what happened. Jungkookie… he’s not himself when he’s sick.”

“It’s because of me, isn’t it?” the girl bluntly interrupted him.

“W-what-”

“It isn’t the first time something like this happens.”

Jimin helplessly stared at her. What was he supposed to say?

“I- I don’t want to force you to tell me anything you can’t. But… since the time I’ve… collapsed in school, I feel like he’s been burdened by something. Today too: he walked out of here when I… when I didn’t improve…”

“That’s…”

“Please, I need to know. Is it because of me? Is it me that’s causing all this turmoil? Is it my… illness that’s making Mr. Jeon so tired and anxious?”

Jimin didn’t know what to say. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. If he told her that wasn’t the case, she would probably not believe him. If he told her the truth, she would be forced to endure a guilt it wasn’t hers to bear.

“Please. Just be honest with me.” The girl pleaded once again, her voice shaky and desperate.

He bit his lip.

“Jiminssi. I need to know. It’s because of my illness, right?”

Jimin nodded tiredly. “It is because of you. Both in the good and in the bad.”

“But I can’t tell you much more. It’s Jungkookie’s past we’re delving into, and I don’t have any right to tell anyone what he went through. It’s his life.”

When he finally dared to look up at her, he saw all the sorrow in her watery eyes.

“Thank you… for telling me…” the words came out slowly, each syllable brought her closer to breaking down.

“Can… we go back to the room? I’m not that hungry anymore…”

“Okay. Let’s go back.”

They walked in silence. Jimin couldn’t believe he had told her; he couldn’t believe he let the conversation wander to that. He ought to have comforted her, helped her to get past her disheartening setback, and instead, here they were.

As they walked through the corridors, Jimin couldn’t help but glance at the girl once in a while. She was suffering, he could tell. Her eyes were still watery, although no tear dared to spill. She nervously played with the hem of her shirt, eyes glued to the crimson moquette, deeply lost in her thoughts.

When they reached the room the girl, without uttering a word, went straight to her bed, drawing the curtain.

Jimin’s eyes fell on his watch once again.

He had almost forgotten about Jungkook. He nervously paced around the room; anxiety heavy on him. He was going crazy. Barely twenty minutes, and his mind kept wandering to the worst-case scenarios.

He walked closer to the drawn curtain. “Yin? can we talk?”

After a couple of seconds, he heard her shifting on the bed and slightly opening the curtain. Her eyes were glued to the floor.

“Here. Come sit.” He gently wrapped an arm around her thin wrist and led her to sit on the rim of his bed.

“You know you didn’t take any step back, right?”

She nodded.

“You weren’t ready for such a plunge forward, but this doesn’t mean everything you did until now is in vain. You’re doing good, really.”

Another nod.

“We’ll get there, eventually. It just takes time, but that doesn’t mean it’s not going to happen.”

Nod.

“I need to make sure you understand that. It’s fine to take your time, it’s fine to progress slowly.”

She deeply sighed. “I’m just… tired. This unhealthy relationship with food that I have… no matter what I do… it’s going to stay with me forever, isn’t it?”

What could Jimin answer to that? The only time he had ever witnessed the effects of an eating disorder, it had been on Junghyun. He did not know if people could actually completely get rid of such an illness.

“I could get better, of course… but how long will I have to fight? Even if I got to a point where I could control my eating and at the same time not restrict it too much, would that be the finish line? Or would I have to keep struggling to maintain that balance earned with so much effort? Eventually, I would relapse, or worse, I would transform my obsession with food into bulimia. I will end up like that, for sure.”

Jimin intensely stared at the ground, wishing to melt into it to avoid those blunt questions he had no answer for. All these talks, these stupid encouragements, who was he to do any of that? What did he know about that illness? What right did he have to encourage her when he did not know what pain she was in?

All his life, he had been comforting a pain much bigger than his, something he had no idea of. Yes, he had suffered because of Junghyun’s death too, but it was nothing compared to the weight Jungkook carried on his shoulders, day after day. And now he had the pretence, he, that knew nothing, to help someone out of their far greater misery?

What could he answer to those questions? Would he encourage her to keep fighting? Would he whisper mellow, reassuring words in which he didn’t fully believe himself? It would have been insulting more than anything to utter any of those sugar-coated lies.

And still, what use was speculating on the future? Jungkook didn’t know either, he didn’t know if his scars would ever heal. But without that hopeful promise of better days towards the future, of that feeble light shining in the cruel darkness, what reason would there be to keep living? They all needed a reason to carry on, and if they couldn’t find it in that hope… they had to find it in something else.

For Jimin, that something had never been Jungkook’s full recovery, as he deemed it impossible. It had been his smile. That sweet smile that despite how bad Jungkook’s sufferings were, would appear once in a while.

Yes, there had been years in the past in which Jimin had never seen that sign of hope. But he had carried on; gritting his teeth, slowly dragging himself forward, in the hope that, one day, his wish would be granted.

If there wasn’t any hope, death was the only answer. And Jimin couldn’t accept that. He knew what throwing his life away to give it to Jungkook had meant, he now had learnt, through his own suffering, the value of not mere survival, but life, with its beauty and its flush on the cheeks, the bright eyes and sometimes, that smile.

Jimin was about to tell Yin about that small hope he treasured so much, but at that moment, the sky roared out in a monstrous thunder. His heart jumped, a strange, unknown dread invading him.

A storm was coming.

He was looking straight into the girl’s eyes, and to his dismay, in hers too, he saw his own despair reflected on her pale face.

Heavy rain started pouring, violently knocking on their windows. For a moment, they sat in silence, staring at each other.

Then, as another thunder echoed in the night, the realization came:

Jungkook was still out there.

Under that downpour, fever raging in his body.

Jimin’s eyes widened in sheer panic. “J-Jungkook is still-”

The girl sprinted to her bag, rummaging through it. “Damn it…. Where is it??”

Losing her patience, she carelessly reversed all the bag’s content on her bed, until she spotted the small umbrella.

She sprang to the door. “I’ll bring him an umbrella” she mumbled before disappearing in the corridor.

Jimin listened to her steps as they faded into the terrible silence of the hotel.

What was he doing there? Why was Yin going out when she was probably too weak to endure it? Why was he, who was supposed to help them, the one staying inside as the two wandered around under the savage downpour?

----------------------------------------

She had limited strength; she was aware of that. Never in the last few months had she dared to run. Starving herself had been a gradual process, so much so that she had realized how bad it had gotten only when it was already impossible for her to get out of it on her own.

“Pace yourself.” She murmured to herself, slowing down.

“Pace yourself or you won’t be able to help Mr. Jeon”

Heart heavy with worry, she carried on, scouring every inch of the city. Despite her thorough search, she wasn’t getting any result.

At every empty corner, at the end of every street, her fear grew exponentially.

Maybe he had already gone back, she thought. What if he had come back, and she was searching in vain?

She was tired, sweaty, and cold. It would have been better to go back inside. Yes, maybe Jiminssi would know what to do.

She turned around, ready to go back, when another loud thunder reverberated in the dark sky heavy with tears. Like a rock thrown in a peaceful lake, that terrible sound turned her soul in a rippled, turbulent sea of worries.

And what if he needed help? What if he was so sick he couldn’t walk back to the hotel? What if something bad had happened to him? She couldn’t leave him there. She was getting lost. If it was hard to find the way in the morning, now it was impossible: the night’s obscurity had altered the appearance of the entire village. The few buildings she might have been able to recognize during the day were hidden under gloomy shadows, black, unrecognizable walls of a dark maze.

The rain violently lashed all the surroundings, threatening to carve holes in the thin fabric of the umbrella, which squealed under the harsh wind.

Out of breath, she desperately searched every nook and cranny. She was losing hope, and her mind began insinuating again that it would have been better to go back to Jimin and ask him for help. Just as she passed another alley, she had the impression she had glimpsed something, or someone. The girl walked back, and indeed, there was someone laying on the ground. The man looked lifeless, terrifyingly still under the violent rain.

She didn’t want to believe it, but she knew exactly who that was. A step, two, her heartbeat quickened the more she drew near that body. She crouched down. Her hands were shaking furiously as she tried to shelter the man’s face with her tiny rattling umbrella.

Dark strands of drenched hair covered his face. She gently moved the hair, and sheer panic invaded her.

It suddenly seemed to her that the sound of the rain had become an unbearable screeching, the wind frigid slaps on her face. Her head throbbed with pain; it was becoming harder to breathe. All the energy knocked out of her, she let the umbrella slip out of her shaky hands.

She couldn’t deny it anymore. There was no way she could lie to her heart now, now that he was laying there, bare, vulnerable, unconscious in front of her.

It was Mr. Jeon.

And he needed help.

He didn’t move, although his chest heaved up and down. He breathed heavily; brow furrowed.

She had to do something. He wasn’t dead; she had to think of a way to bring him back, and quickly.

“Mr. Jeon…” She feebly whispered. She wanted to yell, to scream, to shout until her lungs exploded, but still no sound louder than a mere whisper came out of her tense throat.

“Pull yourself together. You can’t panic now.”

And with that, she took deep breaths, and extended a hand towards Jungkook’s forehead. It was hot. Too hot for it to be anything close to normal. He was burning up, and the rain surely wasn’t helping.

“Mr Jeon! Please wake up! Are you okay?” Slowly, the man moved, slightly opening his eyes.

“Mr Jeon! Can you hear me? It’s me, Yin!”

But he didn’t answer; he laid limp, chest heaving up and down, eyelids heavy, and ready to fall once again.

“Hey, hey no no no! Don’t fall asleep, please! Stay with me! I need you to stay awake!” she tightly squeezed his hand with all the strength she had, hoping that touch would at least keep him awake for a bit.

With much struggle, she put him in a sitting position, with his back heavily leaning against the concrete wall of the luckily nearby building.

Yin placed both hands on his shoulders, as Jungkook’s head slumped down, his chin resting on his chest as he panted heavily.

“Hey. Mr. Jeon, can you hear me?”

No answer again.

She had to do something. She reached for her pocket, but she realized she had left her phone in the room.

“Shit. What should I do now?”

She could go back and tell Jimin what happened. But she couldn’t possibly leave him here, could she?

“Mr. Jeon, wait here for a second, okay? Don’t fall asleep!”

She ran to the end of the street to see if someone might be there to help them. But it was deserted. Not a single soul in sight. Disheartened, she dashed back. She would have to do it on her own. To her great relief, she noticed Jungkook’s eyes sloppily following her back to him. At least he hadn’t blacked out again.

Crouching next to Jungkook, she wrapped his arm around her shoulders and put all her strength into trying to lift him up.

“Come on, Mr. Jeon, give me a hand, will you? Can you lift yourself up?”

He didn’t seem to understand, but still, somehow, he was indeed attempting to stay upright, although he was incredibly weak.

“Good.” The girl murmured under the heavy weight, desperately leaning onto the concrete wall just to remain on her feet.

“Mr Jeon, let’s go home.”

She trembled under the weight, Jungkook doing close to nothing to help her, although he couldn’t really be blamed for it, since he didn’t really know what was going on.

In his head, the girl’s voice sounded distant, weak. The screams of the rain overpowered any sound. He could barely keep his eyes open. His vision was so spotty and blurry that he finally closed them, blindly trusting whoever was leading him around.

“J-Junghyun…”

“What?” the girl panted, still dragging Jungkook forward under the cold rain.

“Junghyun…” Jungkook’s voice had come out as a groggy murmur, barely audible over the downpour.

Junghyun? Who was he talking about? Could it be a friend of his? She had never heard that name before.

“Junghyun… f-forgive me…”

“Mr. Jeon, it’s me, Yin, remember? We’re going to the hotel. Jimin is going to help you…”

“It’s my fault…”

“What are you talking about?”

“J-Junghyun… stop calling me… please…”

Her heart throbbed with worry. There was no one there except for her. Yet there he was, talking about this “Junghyun,” whoever it was. Could he be hallucinating?

Despite the immense struggle, the girl found the way back. The narrow alley in which she had found Jungkook lying unconscious luckily wasn’t too far from the hotel.

A pang of guilt hit her as she remembered running down that street two or three times before finally noticing Jungkook. If only she had searched more thoroughly, she kept repeating to herself, maybe his condition wouldn’t have deteriorated so much.

On the verge of collapsing under the dead weight she was carrying, she slowly dragged both herself and Jungkook into the hotel, finally away from the pelting rain.

She looked around. How was it possible that there was literally no one around? Not even a receptionist?

Resigned, she continued on her own. Jungkook’s breathing had gotten progressively worse. His cheeks were bright red, his delirious mumbling now converted to a low, continued stream of whimpers and pleas.

It broke her heart to see him like that, so desperate and pained, both physically and mentally. They stumbled into the elevator, and she huffed a sigh of relief as she eased the weight on her shoulders.

Jungkook couldn’t stand on his own though, and she kept him on his feet by pinning him against the elevator’s wall.

“I’m n-no good… h-hyung, am I? Why do you keep c-caall...ing me? It’s my… fffaullt.”

Was he drunk or delirious? Or both? Drenched and exhausted, his head dangled down as furious sobs shook his body.

As the elevator rose through the floors, she kept her body pressed against him, hoping to maintain him upright. If he were to fall to the ground, she knew she wouldn’t be able to get him up again.

Now that the loud yells of the rain had disappeared, Jungkook’s whispers resonated much more clearly, and with them all his hidden sorrow and devastation. It was heart-breaking. She was hugging him tightly, eyes squeezed shut as she tried to block out the terrible cries. Head firmly pressed to his chest, the girl tried to calm down, listening to Jungkook’s heartbeat.

It was quick, maybe too quick.

But her heart wasn’t beating normally either. After all the fear, the pity, the immense struggle, she did not know what was going on anymore. Head empty, she just prayed for this all to end, for that man she had learned to admire to stop suffering.

In the deep silence, only occasionally broken by Jungkook’s heavy, laboured breath and his blabbered nonsense, Jungkook’s heartbeat was the only thing that kept her from going insane.

The chime of the elevator’s bell brought her back to reality. The elevator’s doors slowly opened with a low grumble, as if the old metal object had absorbed their exhaustion.

They were finally there. A couple of steps and he would be safe. She just needed to drag him up to the room. No big deal, right?

“Mr. Jeon. We’re almost there, don’t give up now.” She knew he probably wasn’t listening. It was mostly an encouragement to herself.

She dragged him out of the elevator and staggered down the corridor. In the complete silence of the deserted hotel, the squelching of their steps resonated like a million voices. Their shoes were completely drenched, and left a trail of water behind them, soaking the crimson rug. Not that they cared, anyway.

What mattered now was bringing Jungkook back to the safety of their room, to Jimin, to his hyung, who would surely be able to help him. She reached the door, desperately gasping for air. Her legs were about to give out.

--------------------------------------

Jimin had been waiting for what felt like hours. Nervously biting his lips, he walked back and forth, wondering if he should go out too and see if both of them were okay. But what if one came back, and they didn’t find him there?

Once in a while, footsteps could be heard, distant, in the mute silence of the corridor. They would get closer, closer, and closer… making Jimin’s heart throb and quiver.

But every time, they would walk past the room, vanishing once again in the thick fear and anticipation that engulfed the whole place.

This time, however, he was sure it was them. So much so that before the girl could knock, he impatiently swung the door open.

Jimin was at a loss for words.

Two figures stood in front of him, completely drenched. Yin was trembling, Jungkook hanging off of her, barely able to hold himself up, head slumped down.

It was only when Jungkook’s low whimpers reached his ears that he realized he had to do something.

He immediately freed the girl from the burden, picking him up and carrying him to his own bed, on which he laid him with the utmost care. The boy seemed to wince in pain with every breath. Jimin’s eyes widened as he placed a hand over the boy’s forehead.

“Hey. Hey Jungkookie, can you hear me?”

“I doubt he can. I found him passed out in a narrow alley in the pouring rain. He kept mumbling a name, I think he’s hallucinating.”

Jimin froze.

“W-what did you say? A name?”

“Y-yes. Is there a problem?”

“Which name? Tell me, what did he say?”

The girl hesitated. Why had Jimin gotten so aggressive? What was there to worry about? He was hallucinating, wasn’t that what mattered? Who cared what name he had muttered in his folly?

“H-he kept saying ‘Junghyun’ or something like that”

At those words, Jimin flopped to the ground, next to the bed, passing a hand through his hair in exhaustion. A bitter laugh escaped his quivering lips. He covered his eyes with his hand.

“Is that so… we’re not getting a break, are we?”

Life never had enough, he thought, it took pleasure in torturing Jungkook. Again… for how long? When would he be freed from this misery?

“Jiminssi… is everything alright? Who’s Junghyun?” The girl murmured.

Jimin looked at her. His eyes were glistening with unshed tears of sorrow and painful resignation. He took a deep breath, urging his heart to calm down.

Slowly, he got back on his feet, moving the hair from Jungkook’s face, and gently holding his hand. Jungkook’s eyes were squeezed shut. Despite being already drenched in water, his forehead glistened with newly formed sweat.

Harshly biting his lips, Jimin desperately tried to stem the tremors that shook him. Abundant tears eventually started rolling down his reddened cheeks. Jimin immediately retracted from Jungkook, fretfully wiping his tears.

With his voice trapped in his throat, Jimin whispered:

“Junghyun is his brother. He… died 8 years ago. Because of anorexia.”

The world crumbled around the girl. If she was shocked before, now she was devastated, a confusing mix of emotions propagating through her body.

It was her. It had been her all along. She had hurt him more than she could ever have imagined with her eating disorder. After all the suffering he must have had to go through in the past, now there she was, rubbing it in, torturing him with her disease.

“Yin…”

It was her fault. If she hadn’t attempted to eat that stupid meal tonight, if only she had stuck to the regular things... if only she hadn’t stopped eating in the first place… if she hadn’t been his student… then he could have been spared from such suffering. If only she hadn’t been born all of this wouldn’t-

“Yin!”

Without realizing, the girl had flopped onto the floor. Seeing how she was trembling, Jimin walked up to her and placed a hand on her shoulder.

His tone was gentle, but distant in some way.

“Hey. You’re drenched. Go change before you get a cold too. Are you okay? Did you carry him all the way on your own?”

The girl nodded blankly.

“Are you really okay?”

She had turned really pale, and she didn’t feel like ever moving a muscle from now on. However, she forced herself to nod and swallow the lump in her throat.

Jimin, completely invested in his pity towards Jungkook, hadn’t even realized what he had just told her. She was visibly upset, but he thought nothing of it.

The girl pulled herself together and excused herself.

A whine awoke Jimin from his trance. He rushed back to Jungkook, who seemed to have regained consciousness for a second.

“Hey, hey Kook, it’s me, Jimin. Can you understand me?”

Jungkook’s eyes wandered over Jimin’s worried face for some time. Then, his face contorted in a grimace of helplessness and intense grief.

“H-hyung…” Jungkook burst into a fit of desperate sobs, and Jimin wrapped him in a gentle embrace.

“My poor Kookie…” he murmured, tenderly patting his hair. “Everything’s gonna be okay, I promise. Just let me take care of this stupid fever and then-”

“Hyung…” he kept whimpering.

“Just rest, don’t waste your energy on speaking. I’ll get you changed into fresh, dry clothes and yo-”

“Hyung” Jungkook was desperate.

“What is it?”

“H-hyung I- I drank! I drank soju!”

Jungkook’s eyes immediately drowned in tears, as his body was shaken by restless sobs. Jimin’s heart ached. It was painful, horribly painful to see him suffering like that. The relapse wasn’t the problem, for how disheartening it could be. The worst was Jungkook’s guilt, his utter desperation at what he had done to himself.

Jimin forced a smile on his quivering lips.

“It’s nothing Gguk-ah, it doesn’t matter. You know hyung is always here for you. I don’t care whatever you might do, be it drinking or killing someone. Hyung is here for you and won’t ever give up on you.”

Maybe he shouldn’t have mentioned the topic of death, as Jungkook started sobbing all over again.

“I killed Junghyun, I stole your life, I killed everyone, I hurt anyone who got close to me… hyung you should hate me…”

“Shut up, will you? You didn’t kill anyone, and nobody hates you. You did nothing wrong.” Jimin sighed, planting a soft kiss on the whimpering boy’s forehead.

“Now stop crying, calm down. Hyung will take good care of you. Don’t think about anything. Just let me change your clothes, okay?”

Jungkook was still deeply convinced that everything was his fault. Despite that, almost on instinct, he obeyed Jimin, trying to calm down the best he could. Taking deep breaths as Jimin rummaged through his drawers.

Jimin changed him into new clothes and put him on Jungkook’s bed, since Jimin’s was all soggy by now.

“Good, you’re doing great Kook. Open your mouth, please.” he murmured as he slid the thermometer into his mouth. He nervously stroked the boy’s hand, impatiently tapping his feet on the ground.

After what felt like ages to Jimin, the thermometer beeped, and Jimin’s heart sank.

40°C

He ran to search for Tylenol. He held in his hands the empty blister. He had completely forgotten about that.

Just to be sure, he reversed the contents of his meds bag on the floor and checked once again, but there was none. Nothing that he could use to make Jungkook feel better.

“Jungkook…” he murmured, walking back to the bed. But the boy had lost consciousness again, and was laying there, eyes closed, breathing hard.

As he tortured his mind over the potential solutions, the girl reappeared. She had changed into new clothes, but she was still as pale as ever.

Jimin ran up to her, desperate.

“Yin, we have a problem. I don’t have any Tylenol left. He’s got a really bad fever.”

“I-I’ll go search for a pharmacy-”

Jimin grabbed her arm before she could attempt anything stupid.

“You’re not going anywhere like that. You did enough running today. I’ll go, but I need you to do something for me. Can you?”

She nodded.

“Good. While I search around the town, I need you to lower down Jungkook’s temperature. I’ll show you how. It’ll make him feel a bit better while I search for the medicines.”

“Here.” Jimin grabbed a cold bowl of water from the bathroom and placed It on the bedside table.

He soaked some towels in it and placed them on Jungkook’s forehead and wrists. The boy initially squirmed under the cold but didn’t open his eyes.

“Change them whenever they get warm. This should help. You can do it on his arms too.”

“Okay. I’ll do my best.” The girl answered, already placing a stool next to the bed, determined to complete her task.

Jimin tightly squeezed her hands.

“Thank you. Thank you so much. I better get going. Call me if something happens, okay? I’ll bring my phone with me.”

And with that he disappeared into the corridor.

Chapter Text

External POV

In the newfound silence of the room, occasionally broken by Jungkook’s incomprehensible mumbles, the girl blankly sat.

Another feeble lament escaped the delirious boy’s trembling lips, abruptly bringing the girl back from her contemplative state. Without hesitation, she put her mind to the task Jimin had entrusted her with, wiping the sweat that continuously appeared on Jungkook’s forehead, gently patting the man’s furrowed brow with the refreshing cloth. Waiting for the towels to absorb at least a bit of that brutal fever that was raging inside his body, she tightly held his hand. She didn’t know why she did that, but she hoped it would somehow bring comfort to him.

The deep, unnatural flush of Jungkook’s cheeks kept Yin’s eyes glued to him. She engraved that sight in her heart, impossible to ever erase. Looking at him now, she realized that the current unfortunate situation had forced her to change her perspective. Now that the downpour was only a distant memory that would occasionally knock on their windows, and Jungkook laid on that bare bed, drowning in his agony; now that he was drenched not in rain, but sweat and burning tears, now that he weakly exhaled, suffocating in the scorching heat of his own body, he wasn’t the same man the girl had met many times before. That man, Mr. Jeon, as she knew him, the strong, charismatic, and gentle personality she had met at the beginning of the school year had always appeared like a grown man to her. Someone who was reliable, kind, and that had found his place in life. But as she stared at him now, she thought he was more like a lost boy, forced to grow up quickly, too young to carry the burden cast on his shoulders. This weak, trembling boy that endlessly suffered in front of her, was someone else.

This wasn’t Mr. Jeon.

He was Jungkook.

Yes, Jungkook. Not her teacher, with his job and his reputation. Now, on that bed, there was nothing left of that. There was a frail, gentle soul: bare, tormented, and despite that, terribly beautiful. The fever had uncovered a flower yet to bloom, wrecked by wind and rain, so much so that he had had to build a fortress around him. But inside that perfect-looking golden castle, there was a bleeding heart. It wasn’t hard for Yin to understand why Jimin was so caring and full of apprehension towards him, now that Jungkook’s throbbing heart had eluded his conscience to show itself bare, and his long-hidden pain had slipped out through his quivering lips.

Changing into dry clothes in her bathroom, she had overheard fragments of the previous conversation between Jimin and Jungkook. What sort of immense guilt did Jungkook carry on his shoulders to make him sob and cry with harsh words such as “I killed you all” and “it’s my fault”?

Eager to make that crimson flush disappear from Jungkook’s body, the girl followed Jimin’s advice, and rolled up Jungkook’s sleeves to cool him down even more.

Maybe she shouldn’t have done that.

Her voice got caught in her throat, her muscles tensed with sheer panic. Her eyes had fallen on deep scars just above the left wrist. Always wearing long-sleeved shirts, Jungkook had always kept them hidden. But now that he was unconscious, there was no way for him to even know what was happening. And like that, another part of his past was accidentally being revealed to the girl.

Jimin, used to that little secret, had almost forgotten its existence, or, rather, had consciously forced it out of his memory. He knew what that was, but it was better if he purposefully blocked out its meaning, since it only brought back pain and terrible memories.

The girl jolted on her feet and staggered back. An incredibly strong wave of nausea propagated through her body. She didn’t know what that was; she didn’t. She swore to herself she had never seen something like that in her whole life. Those… things had nothing to do with her. Nothing to do with her past... right? The girl’s eyes filled with burning tears.

Overtaken by fear, she ran to the bathroom. She leaned over the sink as she waited for the content of her stomach to come out at any moment.

She had seen those scars before. There was no doubt: those were cuts. The first time she saw them had been right after her cheerful school trip, as a child. They were there, those horrible marks, on her mother’s arms. She didn’t know what they were back then, and only many years later did she realize the brutality of them. They constellated her mother’s arms like drawings. And when, late at night, Yin’s arms would be dark and dotted with purplish marks and bruises, she would think nothing of it, so used as she was to see scars all over her mother’s body.  

In her innocent 6-year-old mind, the pain inflicted was needed. They both deserved it for something bad they had done. Her mom would smile through the tears every time the girl mindlessly accepted, even cheerfully, that pain. She did not dare to break that spell and introduce her daughter to the cruel reality of the abuse she was unjustly receiving. Her mother’s lips quivered, and her heart clenched in grief every time the girl cheerfully repeated that her arms “were full of drawings, just like mommy’s”

Only years later had the girl discovered the meaning of those tears and forced smiles, of the so uncomfortable long-sleeved t-shirts, of the “secret drawings” she must “protect from everyone’s sight.”

Only after they had gone through hell had she understood what her mother had endured to give her some sort of normal childhood. It was then that her downfall had begun.

She thought back to Jungkook: How were they bound together? What cruel trick of fate had ensured that they would meet, just so that they would suffer because of each other’s past? What was the meaning? What was the point of all this? Why did Jungkook have to re-experience his pain in her illness, why did she have to relieve her traumas in him?

The world mercilessly spun around her as the images of her past flashed before her eyes. She gripped the cold porcelain surface, trying to maintain some sort of contact with the reality she was quickly being eradicated from.

Strong, painful memories came in waves, unstoppable, crashing on her thin wall of defence. Her self-control was chipping away at every agonizing blow of the past. She knew she could not hold much more. If she waited long enough, her unstable house of cards would crash down into the dark sea of despair below her feet. She needed help, but who could she ask? If only Jimin had been there, he would have known what to do. But he was gone, probably roaming the town in the pelting rain. She felt alone, dumped in a deep ditch, left in something much bigger than her, at the mercy of a frigid ocean ready to drown her. Blankly staring at her reflection in the mirror, she saw dark bruises appearing all over her arms. They were getting bigger and bigger, painfully extending towards her neck and her chest.

Tight, bruising claws advanced towards her throat, suffocating her, and tightening their grip at every breath. She couldn’t divert her reddened eyes from that distorted image of herself staring back at her with a silent plea. That girl in the mirror was crying desperately, screaming as invisible hands hit and cut her trembling limbs. She could see the pain in the reflection’s eyes, but she also felt it, her skin tingling and burning at every hit, her breath knocked out of her lungs as the invisible claws pressed on both their throats. There was no way she could hold out much longer: tears mercilessly streamed down her cheeks, her breath had been reduced to a ragged, shallow wheeze, her strength was abandoning her.

Suddenly, a feeble groan made its way into the girl’s head. It was distant, weak. But somehow, it muffled all the screams that had been tormenting the girl up to now.

It was Jungkook.

Right, Jungkook. He was there; he needed help. Jimin had entrusted her with a task, and she was hiding in a bathroom instead. She had to get out of there, out of her mind.

She closed her eyes, blocking out the horrible image of her past self.

“It’s not real. Nothing’s real. It’s your mind playing tricks.” She repeated to herself. Slowly, she placed a trembling hand on her throat. There was nothing. It was all in her mind. As the realization finally kicked in, her body relaxed, and she went back to taking deeper breaths.

“Good.” She thought. “Now forget. Forget everything. Forget your past, your present, your future. No matter what happens, don’t look back.”

She stumbled out of the bathroom, her eyes still closed. Now that she was away from the horrible reflection, she gradually opened her eyes once again. But before that, she rolled down her sleeves, scared to see if bruises had really appeared on her skin. Slowly, still trembling, she reached Jungkook’s bed, rolled his sleeves down. She avoided looking at him, and just tended to her work. The boy squirmed under the re-dampened towels.

“Mom…”

Jungkook murmured, tossing and groaning.

“Mom… is it you?”

Her voice got caught in her throat as she broke down in silent sobs, emotionally exhausted by the immense stress she was going through. Not knowing what to answer, the girl squeezed Jungkook’s hand as copious tears wetted her clothes.

“Mommy… there’s a girl, you know?”

Yin didn’t know what to do: she was tired, and just wanted to drown her pain in sleep. Blocking out her past had proven to be a much harder task than she had imagined, especially when Jungkook kept mentioning his mother. The man in front of her was out of his mind, fever wrecking his body as his lips moved incoherently. Yet, his murmurs sounded like proper phrases now. He was waiting for an answer. “Mommy... there’s a girl at school....”

Taken by immense pity, the girl played the part Jungkook was desperately asking for. She gently caressed his hand.

“M-mom… how strange, she has Junghyun’s illness, you know?” His voice had gained a childish tone, and he casually spoke, as if nothing of what he was saying phased him.

“Yes, I know...” The girl whispered, still finding it hard to calm her sobs down at the mention of Jungkook’s brother and herself in his hallucinations.

“Mom… I know the doctors didn’t listen to us back then, but Namjoonie hyung is a doctor now… you know?”

“Yes… mom knows…”

“And Jimin hyung has become a nurse. He takes good care of me now, like… like you did when I was sick.”

“I know… mom is happy… that you have such a good friend.” She brought a trembling hand to his head and gently stroked his hair in repetitive, soothing motions. For a bit, the boy remained quiet, enjoying the tender caresses.

“Mommy… we can save her, right?” The girl stopped stroking his hair, petrified by the abrupt question.

She hated lies; those were the things that had hurt her more than anything in life. Despite that, there she was, ready to force a smile on her face and pretend everything was fine for a second, just like her mother had done with her. After all that pain, after holding so much hate in her for the lies her mother had told her, she was ready to play a part. She was willing to take upon her mother’s role. It disgusted her. How could she lie like that? But what if she didn’t pretend? She had harmed Jungkook enough with her stupid illness. Breaking the lie now would make him suffer immensely, breaking it later would be even worse.

But what if she became the protagonist of that script she was now playing a part in? If she now promised him that the girl would be alright, and she then really did all she could to fit in that fantasy she was about to give life to, wouldn’t that become the truth?

If that meant sparing Jungkook of the horrible pain of disillusion, she would try. She wiped her tears, and with renewed strength she spoke.

“We will save her.”

--------------------------------

Jimin’s POV

I dashed down to the reception desk, my heart beating uncontrollably.

“How can I help you sir?” said the young boy sat behind the desk.

“Do you have any Tylenol in this hotel? I need it urgently.”

The boy frowned. “You mean like… a medicine?”

“Yes, yes. Tylenol, paracetamol, ibuprofen, anything remotely similar to that.” I hastily continued, rubbing my eyes in frustration. My headache was already creeping back. The receptionist gazed at me, puzzled, as if I had uttered gibberish rather than actual words.

“Never mind. Just tell me if there’s any pharmacy or drugstore nearby.”

“O-oh yes, there’s three actually. One is right behind the corner, but I’m afraid it’s already closed by now…”

“Then talk quickly. Is there one that might still not have closed?”

“U-um, maybe the one at the end of the main street. You turn left and then always go straight.”

“And where’s the third?”

“On the other side of the town, on that street near the kids’ playground, the one that passes under the wooden bridge”

“Why don’t you have damn names for the streets here in this town?”

The boy opened his mouth to speak.

“Forget it. Don’t answer me.” I took off, dashing out of the door.

“Sir- the rain!” Ah that’s right, the rain. Well, I didn’t have any time to go back to get an umbrella. My clothes could get drenched all they wanted. I had to get my hands on those damned meds. The first pharmacy was closed when I passed it. I continued on, running under the pelting rain as the sky roared and grumbled.

“What, what do you want?” I yelled. “When will you all stop fucking with us?”

To my dismay, by the time I got to the other shop, it had just closed. For a minute, I stood there, contemplating what to do. I realized I had better run towards the third one, my last chance. I prayed for it to be open, as I desperately ran down the dark, deserted streets. As the thunders echoed into my aching skull, I kept questioning my choices. Was I making a fuss out of something that wasn’t really that big? Did I really need that medicine so badly? Should I have stayed with Jungkook rather than leave him there while I uselessly ran around this damned town with little to no hope of finding what I needed?

“Damn it!” I tiredly punched the door. This pharmacy, too, was closed. What would I do now? Would I just go back empty-handed? Wasn’t there anything I could do?

I dropped to my knees, pinching the bridge of my nose.

“Excuse me?” a voice called. I turned around. An old man stood in the middle of the street, holding an umbrella that sheltered only his head because of the pronounced curvature of his back and neck.

“You seem to be searching for something, young man.”

“Ah, yes. I urgently needed a medicine, but everything’s closed by now.” I murmured, gathering all the energy I had left to lift myself up and greet the stranger.

“That’s unfortunate. What did you need?”

“Tylenol, sir. My friend has a very high fever, I need something to make it go down before it gets dangerous. There isn’t any hospital I could ask for it around here, am I right?”

The man nodded. “Correct. The closest one is miles down the only street that winds through the valleys around here. It would take you at least an hour to get there.” He calmly replied.

I passed a hand through my drenched hair in distress. “Don’t be so upset. Listen here. My house is just behind that corner; why don’t you come up for a second? I always keep some spare medicines; I might have what you need.”

“Really? Can I...?”

The man laughed, waving his free hand. “Of course, of course. Here, hold this. You’re getting drenched. Oh my… how worried did you have to be to come here without an umbrella?” He said, handing me his. I held it over our heads as he unsteadily limped forward.

“Sir, you can use my arm as support if you want.” I offered.

“Can I? Thank you.” The man smiled, placing his hand on my arm. We resumed walking towards his house, moving now at a faster pace.

“Heh, these old legs aren’t the same anymore… When you become old, you give back to God everything he gave you. Bit after bit, gradually.” The man murmured as he struggled forward.

“That’s not really kind. What god gives his creatures something to then take it away? That’s cruel.”

“It’s just life. This life on earth is meant to end anyway. What a meagre belonging our body is, if compared to the beauty of the afterlife…” the man calmly replied, his beady eyes gazed at everything around him with inexplicable calmness.

“Why are we here in the first place, then? Why does this cruel life force kids to grow up too fast, to see death when they’re still young and innocent? Why does this god allow that? Why does he let a boy suffer so much? Why does he cruelly force a boy to meet someone that awakes his past traumas? Why does he allow someone to put away their dream and… give their life away to save someone else, and then makes that someone else even more unhappy than before?”

The man looked up at me. I must have had an expression of pure anger and desperation on my face. He lowered his gaze once again, smiling. His eyes shone of a wisdom I couldn’t comprehend.

“I’m not God, so how am I supposed to answer that? There’s always a reason for everything, but it’s hard for us to see it. Sometimes you can’t see it if not years and years later.”

“We’re here.” The man concluded, unlocking the door, and walking inside. “Come up, I’ll give you whatever I might have.”

He turned around. “Well, what are you standing there for? Come inside!”

I followed him to a modest room. The furniture was old and carved out of wood. With its corners rounded by time, and blackened by dusty years of relentless use, the cabinets and drawers gave off the same sort of wisdom that radiated from the old man himself.

“Look in here, maybe you can find what you need.”

The man handed me a small inlaid box. I opened it and searched for anything that remotely resembled Tylenol, or that at least had the same active ingredient.

“You seem to be an expert.” The man commented, as I carefully inspected the labels.

“Uh, yes, I’m a nurse.”

“So young and already a nurse! Your friend must be really lucky to have someone like you.”

I smiled. “I try to do my best. Found it!” Four capsules of Tylenol. “That will last until tomorrow, great. I can’t thank you enough, sir.”

I murmured, bowing down low.

“Ah, blissful youth! There’s no need to thank me, I did nothing special. Now go, your friend must be waiting for you.”

“Thanks!”

“Wait, wait, take this.” He handed me the umbrella.

“Ah, it’s not necessary, really!”

“Come on, take it, you can bring it back whenever you want, or even keep it, it’s just a piece of metal.”

I smiled and deeply bowed once again. “I’ll make sure to bring it back! Thank you so much! Then… I’ll get going!”

As I ran back to the hotel, I thought back on what the old man had told me. I didn’t fully believe it, but what he had talked about had intrigued me. “Tomorrow,” I told to myself, “Tomorrow when I’ll bring the umbrella back to him, I’ll ask him more about it.”

The rain had died down and had now reduced to a fine drizzle. As I looked up, I noticed that the moon had come out of its hiding spot and cast its light over the mountains and the valley. I didn’t know why, but the unexpected meeting with that old man had brought me a comfort I hadn’t experienced in a long time. I had felt small next to such a presence, such an ancient creature that knew much more than me about life. But I also felt understood in my pain and my fear. His peaceful, calm attitude had managed to make me escape from the spiralling despair I had fallen into since when Jungkook had run away in the rain.

I finally got to my room. When I walked in, I spotted Yin, her head resting on the bed, next to Jungkook’s hand. As I got closer, I realized she was asleep. Her hands were gently holding Jungkook’s left wrist. At first, I thought nothing of it; but as I untangled her hands, Jungkook’s scar resurfaced. It was then that I noticed how pale the girl was. I panicked. Could the girl not have seen that...? No, who was I trying to fool? It was impossible she hadn’t noticed that. Her pale cheeks were wet with tears, and her brow was furrowed.

The misery that the old man had eradicated from my heart came back all at once. I felt nauseated. Walking back to the hotel, as the drizzle coated everything in its silver glimmer, I had felt happy. But now, seeing the scene in front of me, guilt stabbed me. I had enjoyed my moment of freedom, while here, between these suffocating walls, the two people I should have been helping were suffering god knows how much. How stupid had I been, I had let my guard down; I had told her to lift his sleeves up, and she had discovered the scar. How could she not find out? I wasn’t good enough for the role I had taken upon me. I could not take care of two people at once, especially when one of them was Jungkook.

Sighing, I decided I would have to make up for my mistakes and tell her later on. But for now, she was sleeping, and looked exhausted. When was the last time she had eaten? How did she feel? After she had brought Jungkook back, I had forced her to take care of him, when it should have been me instead. She should have been resting on her bed. I shouldn’t have packed so little Tylenol in the first place. If only I hadn’t let my emotions get the best of me... I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t qualified enough to help any of them. I was a disaster and hurt them more than helping them.

I gently picked the girl up. Jungkook almost stirred, and I quietly brought her to her bed. As I placed her down and tugged her in, a pair of hazel eyes opened in front of me. After a minute of emotionless stares, the girl spoke. “Jungkook…?”

Jungkook? Since when had she started calling him by name?

“He’ll be fine, I promise. I have the medicine. Now sleep, you did a wonderful job. I’ll take care of him.” The look of pure devastation in her eyes told me that there was something wrong. Yes, she had seen the scar, but how could such a futile detail cause such agony in her? Did that have anything to do with her past? I tightly held her hand as I uselessly tried to recall all the conversations I had with her since this morning. I couldn’t remember anything that might have upset her that much. Everything had slipped away into oblivion.

The girl slowly abandoned herself to sleep, her eyelids gradually lowering to carry her in a hopefully painless sleep. I drew the curtain and slipped back to Jungkook.

“Kook-ah, hey, wake up.” After a bit of shaking, he slightly opened his eyes, mind probably still dazed because of the high fever. He looked better, though, and I was relieved to see he was following me with his eyes.

“Let me take your temperature.” Jungkook opened his mouth, and I put the thermometer in. Good. He understood me.

39,3°C

Better than what I expected.

“I found some medicine, take this.” I helped him to sit up and handed him a glass of cold water and two pills. He struggled a bit, but he finally gulped everything down. That effort alone had exhausted him and had him struggling to keep his eyes open.

“You should be feeling good soon, just try to sleep for a bit, okay?” I helped him to lie down once again.

“Hyung…” His voice was groggy, and he struggled to stay awake. Despite that, he was determined to talk.

“Hmm?” I sat next to him, holding his hand in mine, instinctively rubbing his scar. He looked calmer than before, but I could still perceive the sorrow in his broken voice. His heart rate, too, still hadn’t gone back to normal. He was in a prolonged state of anxiety.

“Hyung… mom visited me before... She patted my hair, squeezed my hand- s-she told me we can save Yin. Do you think I can trust her? She didn’t help Junghyun, should I trust her now?”

He was still hallucinating. I hugged him gently and smiled. “Trust her this time. We will save her, no matter what.”

“Now sleep, hmm? Your fever is still high.”

I was about to leave when Jungkook weakly held onto my arm. His eyes had darkened with fear.

“What is it?”

“I think I had… a dream. I don’t know whether it was a dream or not, but I saw… Junghyun there, on the stretcher that night he… died. He called my name a million times. If you leave me here alone, h-he’ll come back to h-haunt me, I know it.”

“It was just a dream. Relax. Nothing’s going to happen.”

He gripped my hand tighter, as tight as his trembling hand could allow him to.

“I’m scared, hyung. I can’t bear the guilt. When I see him-” he chocked a sob, and his eyes glistened.

“Alright, alright. Let me change into clean clothes first, and then I’ll be right back, okay?”

Reluctantly, he let my arm go, and helplessly stared at me with tears about to roll down his cheeks. The last thing Jungkook needed was another panic attack. I changed as quickly as I could and dashed back to him.

“Okay, time for the cuddles. Come here…” I slid under the warm covers next to him and let him hide as best as he could in my arms. He was bigger than me, so I didn’t offer much protection, but if it was fine with him, then it was fine with me too. He had grown so much, but this nightmare of his had brought back enough pain to turn him into a trembling child.

“Poor Kookie… how terrible must that dream have been for you to be in such a state?” He just whimpered in response, hiding his head more. He cried relentlessly, desperately, as I rubbed his chest. Then, he slowly calmed down and exhausted, he eventually fell asleep.

When I finally felt his heartbeat go back to a normal rate, I too was able to let myself rest for a while.

Chapter Text

External POV

After having wandered in lengthy dreams, Jungkook finally opened his eyes to the morning’s light. A dull ache lingered in his whole body, the only tangible sign of last night’s turmoil. He felt hazy and confused, overwhelmed by the exhaustion that encouraged him to slip into a new, even deeper sleep. His eyes slowly wandered around the room: next to him, Jimin was soundly asleep. The purplish circles under his eyes and his furrowed brow made it clear to Jungkook that Jimin hadn’t slept well at all, and he probably was the reason for his exhaustion, as always.

On the other side of the room, the heavy curtain was drawn. What had happened the day before? Foggy fragments of memories which carried the taste of pain, agony and despair were the only thing he could recall, and he did not know what stood in between them. Everything else had been taken away by the oblivion of delirium and fever. He was sick, his runny nose reminded him of that. He had some kind of dream, or was it real? It was about Junghyun. There had been dinner, but he didn’t remember eating anything.

Yin hadn’t eaten. She had tried eating chicken, but she panicked and couldn’t even try it. That must have been the reason for his breakdown. He had walked outside... in the rain? But where, why? A guilt impossible to tone down was the prevailing sensation that lingered in him of those hours. At the mere thought of it, his chest tightened, and his heart throbbed painfully. Jungkook shook his head, trying to detach from those feelings.

He had drunk. He drank half a bottle of soju. He didn’t remember why, but the fact still remained: after years of therapy, rehab and struggles, he had drunk again. The burning sensation of the liquor persisted in his throat. It had been so long, but now that he had drunk it again, he could taste the sweet liquid in his mouth, could feel its inebriating smell and the delightful bliss that came from drinking it.

He trembled in horror and disgust when he realized he was taking pleasure from that terrible memory. It was an addiction; he had worked so hard to get rid of it. Nevertheless, at the first drop of it he was already eager for more. Thank god Jimin would never allow him to do that to himself all over again.

Jungkook shook himself from that memory and moved on. After the moment he had drunk, though, everything that was left of his memories was a jumbled mix of voices, hands, thunders, cold and pain. His journey to reconstruct the puzzle of his mind ended there when he woke up. He was alone with himself now, face to face with his hurting soul.

Like every time he regained his consciousness after such strong emotions, he was calm and... numb. He bitterly laughed to himself. There was no need for emotion suppressants, he was numb even without them. Had life broken him to this point? To the point of not feeling anymore, of being capable of suffering only, and no other human emotion? For a moment he wondered if Jimin had forced him to swallow his old pills while he wasn’t mentally stable enough to decide on his own. It wouldn’t have been the first time, anyway. Every time he relapsed, Namjoon or Jimin would put him on mood suppressants or on sedatives to avoid a second crisis. It had become a habit for him, suffering like a dog and then succumbing to oblivion, just to wake up numb and emotionless, the world suddenly turning blue and grey.

But this time it was different: the mood stabilizers would have kept him away from pain too. He had felt it just minutes before: recalling what had happened had made him anxious all over again, and it had taken a voluntary effort to put a wall between himself and the guilt that was quickly resurfacing. Although he currently was in a pretty numb state, it would take nothing more than a thought too strong to handle to throw him back into the spiralling anxiety he had experienced the day before.

Especially now, he knew his mood could worsen dramatically due to his fragile balance. He had always been protected by his hyungs, but not this time. For the first time, he stood bare and exposed in front of his past and memories, walking on a thin layer of ice ready to shatter and cast him in the depths of the cold ocean.

As he battled to completely avoid the memories of the last day, Jimin woke up. He groggily stretched, as Jungkook followed him with his eyes. When Jimin noticed he was awake, he jolted up, furiously blinking to wake himself up completely.

“Morning Koo. How are we feeling?” Jimin whispered, gently placing a hand on Jungkook’s forehead.

The younger boy, under the impression that speaking would break the fragile spell of calmness he had worked so hard to preserve, simply shrugged.

Jimin smiled softly. “The fever has gone down.”

Jungkook forced a smile on his quivering lips. He would have asked Jimin for help, comfort, for anything, if only he hadn’t been terrified of even voicing his fears. It wasn’t pride; he was sure that if he spoke, he would have broken down in tears, his last bit of defence crumbling under his feet. If only he could tell Jimin... he could let go. But that was what he feared. Letting go terrified him, he didn’t know how he was going to react.

The anxiety suppressants he had taken for so long passed through his mind. If he were to take one... He would be calmer. But he knew that was a temporary fix. He would feel better, but when the effects would eventually wear off, he wouldn’t be able to handle the sudden rush of fear that would make his heart quiver and his breathing shallow. He would have to take another pill, and then another, and then another.

Despite how much he disliked the idea of being so on edge, naked in front of his fears, he didn’t want to become a slave to those deceiving solaces once again. If he gave in now, if he asked Jimin for the meds, he wasn’t sure he could get rid of them once again. Trying not to take them at the beginning of the year had proved to be an extremely arduous task, which had forced him to suffer through many sleepless nights.

He had made it then, but would he have the strength to do it all over again now that Yin had brought him back to his past?

He forced himself to remember why he had stopped. He hated the numbness, the apparent peace that made him inhuman, that robbed him not only of anxiety, but of love, happiness, affection, and everything else that made him a human being. Of course, even without the medicines, all these bright, joyous feelings were rare, and they almost never came, but he’d rather endure the pain in hope of one of those pleasures rather than letting his life pass by in a dull way, as he had done in the last years.

As Jungkook pondered his options and his reasons not to give in, Jimin helped him sit up and crouched down next to him, waiting for Jungkook to come back to his senses fully. On top of the internal war Jungkook was fighting, he had been overcome by a strong dizziness. He felt overwhelmed, and that struggle was almost enough for him to tip off the edge and break down.

Luckily, the dark spots in his vision cleared. Jungkook calmed down, and Jimin helped him to rest his back against the headboard. When Jungkook’s eyes met Jimin’s, the older man realized he had his attention now.

“Jungkookie... I... need to ask you something. I’m sure you noticed you’re not on mood suppressants.”

The younger boy nodded, and Jimin bit his lower lip, finding it hard to look at him in the eyes.

“You know, I usually put you on medication by default when these... accidents happen, but… you’ve gone without them for so much time that… I didn’t have the heart to do that to you.”

He took a deep breath. “I have been thinking about this ever since you relapsed for the first time earlier this month. Seeing how upset you had been when Namjoon had put you on mood suppressants... I wondered if I had gotten too apprehensive in the last years. I didn’t even question it, I would just give you the medication, hoping to see you stop suffering, and instead...”

“Hyung, that’s not...”

“Please Kook, just let me say it. I need to apologize; I need you to hear it. I... have done terrible things to you. With my eagerness to make you feel better, I might have forced you to rely on those stupid mood stabilizers more than you would have. You’ve been an adult for a long time now, and yet I kept imposing my decisions on you, extending your agony. It isn’t right.”

“Hyung...”

He took a small box out of his pocket and placed it in his palm. He kept it there, patiently waiting for Jungkook’s mind to process it.

“I didn’t put you on medication yesterday, but I can’t force you not to take it. I know you refused last time, but... I don’t know, it could be different now. I wouldn’t want to burden you with this, but I can’t make this choice for you.”

Jungkook’s heart was about to explode in his chest. There, in front of him, stood exactly what he was longing for, the tiny, seemingly harmless pill that would make him immediately go back to a stable, but much more inhuman state of mind. Oh, why was Jimin doing this to him, why was he giving him the choice? Why was he holding those damn pills right there, in front of him, so close that if he wanted, he could grasp them all and gulp them down right there and then? It was true, in other occasions he would have been annoyed at Jimin taking decisions in his stead. He had got angry at Namjoon when he had automatically put him on mood suppressants, but it was much easier to complain about that when he was calm and in a stable state of mind. He thought back at how arrogant he had been. So confident, so sure that he could endure it all, that he would have rather suffered through the pain than being numb.

Yes, it was true he was tired of not feeling anything but being so exposed in front of his fears immediately after having suffered so much was much more terrible than what he had imagined. He still didn’t want to go back to being a slave to that horrible, dull numbness, but it was really hard to resist its alluring promises, even if temporary, when the medicine was so close to him, when that state was so easy to reach. Who in their right state of mind would have ditched away the chance to have a bit of peace after an immense emotional turmoil that left them breathless and hurting? Oh, if only Jungkook had thrown away all the medicine he had left, so that he could never go back to it...

He tiredly rubbed his eyes. “G-give me a minute, hyung. I... need to think about it.”

Jimin didn’t move. He kept the box in his palm, waiting for him to decide. He held Jungkook’s hand in his free one, stroking it in comforting circles.

Jungkook didn’t want to take that medicine, but he was drawn to it, nevertheless. Not only because of its effects on him but also for the effects it would consequently have on Jimin and the people around him. He was conscious of the fact that, if he took the medicine, Jimin would live more comfortably, peacefully, and his other hyungs too. If he was calm and numb, it was almost impossible for him to relapse.

But he wanted to live, oh so badly.

Did he deserve that? Could he even make that choice on his own, when so many people would be affected by it? After all the lives he had consumed, after all the pain he had caused to Jimin, could he really be so selfish? Could he run towards life after draining his hyung’s energy and having been given so many chances?

“Hyung... I can’t make this decision on my own. It’s too... Please hyung. Give it to me or take it away, don’t give me this choice.”

Jungkook murmured, the lump in his throat growing unbearable the more he talked.

“I can’t do this to you Jungkook. It’s your life, I won’t influence your choices anymore.”

“But-”

“Please, don’t choose anyone except you. Do what is best for you, and you only. Whatever your reasons might be, whatever your final decision will be, I’ll accept that.”

Jungkook lowered his pleading eyes from Jimin to his hands. He thought about it once again. He didn’t want numbness. He desperately craved life. He’d rather spend his days on edge, waiting for the next crisis to come, than to drown in an insensitivity strong enough to hinder his dearest memories and alter his feelings towards his hyungs.

But what if because he was on edge, he was more aggressive? He remembered how badly he had treated Jimin, just because he was scared and didn’t have the courage to tell him. But at least, that would be his fault. When he had relapsed and then been so rude to Namjoon, he had felt guilty about that. But when he had tried to apologize, he had been smacked with an “It’s okay, you were on mood stabilizers.” If he behaved badly towards his hyungs, he’d much rather beg for their forgiveness than receive pity. If he was rude, he didn’t want it to be because of drugs that fogged up his love for his hyungs. He wanted to live his life, in good and bad. He wanted to remember his deep affection for his hyungs, his good memories.

He didn’t want to lose that.

He was being selfish, but, put in front of that choice, he had to choose that. With teary eyes, Jungkook braced himself. He had made his decision.

He extended a shaky hand towards the pills, and for a second again he was tempted to take them, to make it easier for him and his hyungs. He glanced at Jimin’s hand, fingers still intertwined with his. All this mess, these two days must have been hell for him. All because Jungkook wasn’t on mood suppressants. He stared at the dark circles under his hyung’s eyes. But had it always to be this choice? What if he changed everything?

A year ago, this decision wouldn’t even have been possible. If so much change had happened in barely six months, wasn’t it possible for him to get even better? He had promised it to himself before. Get better, he had to get better so he could set Jimin free.

He took a deep breath, and slowly closed Jimin’s hand, finally hiding the box from his sight. Warm tears spilled from Jungkook’s eyes, together with an immense fear of the unknown he was sailing towards.

With a sigh of relief, Jimin immediately put the medicine away and hugged Jungkook tightly. The younger boy was trembling, sobbing like a child against Jimin’s chest. It felt as if a terrible weight had been lifted from his chest. However, guilt still made his heart throb. He had made his decision. He had chosen to make his and his hyung’s existence harder in favour of a tiny hope of an indefinite happiness. After a terrible storm, he had left the safety of the haven to sail once again in the open, turbulent sea, in search of a promised neverland he had only seen glimpses of. With his departure towards that land, of which he didn’t know the location nor the certainty of existence, he had forced everyone around him to follow him. All his crew had no choice but leave him forever, or sail with him through endless storms, up to the end, be it death, or life.

“It’s scary, isn’t it?” Jimin murmured. He tightly held Jungkook in his arms.

“I don’t like the idea of you having to take these medicines. I don’t want to see you suffer, but I also want to see you smile rather than being numb. We’ll work through it, together.”

The tears rolling down Jungkook’s face were of relief, knowing that his hyung approved of his decision and was willing to fight beside him until the end.

The fever still hadn’t completely gone down. Slowly, Jungkook’s body grew heavy, overwhelmed by exhaustion. As he calmed down in Jimin’s arms, a heavy drowsiness crept on him, until his eyelids fluttered closed, and he drifted into sleep. Jimin gently laid the sleeping boy on his bed. He would have gladly stayed, cuddling his little dongsaeng until evening, but he had things to do if he wanted him to feel better.

He walked away and stopped in front of Yin’s curtain.

“Yin…? Are you awake?”

When no answer came, he quietly drew the heavy drapes. He didn’t want to invade her privacy, but it was already late, and she had a schedule to stick to. He crouched down next to her. She was still fast asleep, peaceful as he hadn’t seen her in a long time.

Jimin thought back on how troubled she had looked the day before. He couldn’t erase the suspicion that he had told her something he shouldn’t have. But what? And how were they gonna solve the food situation? After seeing Jungkook feeling slightly better, Jimin’s mind had cleared a bit, and he remembered how little care and attention he had paid to the poor girl. Just yesterday, the girl had failed to make progress, and he had found no words to comfort her.

“Yin… it’s time to wake up.” He murmured. The girl slowly opened her eyes. For a moment she stared at Jimin, completely expressionless and calm. She let her gaze wander around the room. But when her eyes fixed on the bathroom door, her expression changed. With a gasp, she jolted to a sitting position, and her eyes widened in shock.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” Jimin immediately whispered. The girl hastily rolled her sleeves up, scanning her forearms with renewed panic. When she was sure there was nothing on them - no bruises, not a single cut - she finally drew a shaky breath.

Jimin stared in complete bewilderment as the girl panted. She passed a trembling hand through her hair as she attempted to calm down, eyes still wide and staring into the void. When Jimin gently placed a hand on her back, she jumped, scared.

Immediately directing his eyes to Jimin, he met his, filled with worry and tenderness. The boy retracted his hand, his heart aching with apprehension. He diverted his gaze onto the mattress and waited, hoping the girl would calm down. Eventually, he heard her breathing go back to normal. He tentatively peaked at her, and she indeed seemed calmer.

“... Are you okay?”

The girl forced herself to nod repetitively, ignoring the lump that was forming in her throat. Her heart was beating like crazy, and she still found it hard to dispose of the rush of adrenaline that had overcome her as soon as yesterday’s events had come to her mind.

“Really, should I call the director and tell him you won’t be at the events for today? Jungkookie’s not going already so…”

But the girl shook her head, massaging her temples.

“N-no, it’s okay. I-I’m fine, I just need… a moment, that’s all.” She laid back down, an arm covering her eyes as she tried to deal with the terribly painful memories which had awakened in her. Jimin sat down next to the bed, but facing the opposite direction, trying to both give her the space she needed and watch over her. This was an unexpected development Jimin wouldn’t have imagined in a million years.

There was the food issue, of course, but this panic and fear that had something to do with her arms was something new. Or not? As the girl slowly calmed down, Jimin tried to remember every occasion, any detail that could have anything to do with this. It was indeed rare to see the girl sporting short sleeves, he now remembered. But that could also have been because of how thin she had become. She liked to cover and hide her body in general, so that maybe wasn’t really connected with the current situation.

But there had been another occasion. The night of their arrival here, when that waiter had accidentally spilled some wine on her hands. She had suffered a mild panic attack because of that. Wasn’t it because of the alcohol, though? She had told them she had bad experiences with that. There was something more to this story, she hadn’t told them everything.

Turning around for a second, Jimin noticed the girl was sitting again, a lost expression on her face, as she obsessively massaged her right wrist. There, that concerning sign once again. Was she really hurt? It was the second time in two days she showed discomfort. But it had never happened during those days, if not on those two occasions.  

The skin around the wrist was reddened from too much rubbing, still the girl continued, unfazed by anything that might be going on around her. When Jimin touched her hands, the girl immediately retracted them, wide-eyed and defensive.

“Sorry. I didn’t want to startle you. Are you hurt?”

Yin stared at him for some time, unable to answer.

“Please, tell me. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”

The girl gulped, gripping the wrist, as if trying to protect it from Jimin’s touch. Nausea twisted her guts and horror washed over her at the mere thought of someone touching her wrist.

“I-It’s nothing. I’m not hurt.” But still, she wouldn’t stop rubbing it, uneasy.

Jimin sighed. He got up and came back with his bag. He extended his hand and gently took Yin’s wrist. The girl squeaked in fear at the sudden action.

“I’m not going to hurt you, I promise,”

Jimin murmured, noticing the fear that lingered deep in her eyes.

“If you keep rubbing it like that, you’ll tear your skin. Let me take care of it.” Gently, he applied a lenitive ointment, and then bandaged the area. Slowly, the girl got used to his gentle touch, and calmed down a bit as he carefully wrapped it. He delicately put her wrist down and gave her a sweet smile.

“I’m sorry.” The girl shot him a confused glance.

“For what?”

Jimin bit his lip, as he sat on the bed next to her. “I think ...I at least owe you an apology. Yesterday I was so worried about Jungkook that I didn’t even see how bad you were feeling. Carrying Jungkook back here, then tending to him, all of this after what you had experienced… I mean at dinner. Also, back then, when Jungkook ran away, I mindlessly followed him, leaving you there alone. I…”

Jimin took a shaky breath.

“I want to help you. I really do. But when it comes to Jungkook- my head just goes blank. The only thing I can see is him and I can't think clearly. I… really, I’m extremely sorry for how I behaved yesterday. I haven’t been tactful at all, I don’t even remember what I might have told you, it’s just…. It’s such a mess.”

Jimin shook his head. “I’m a mess, a total mess. I want to help you, but I’m so… unprofessional. Jungkook is the only thing I have left… If I lose him too… I don’t know.”

The girl was silent, trying to take in everything Jimin had blurted out in one go. She felt pity for that boy, the man who always looked so strong and caring and yet... had weaknesses too. He was human, after all. Not once had she thought Jimin had purposefully left her alone. After having seen and heard Jungkook’s pain yesterday, knowing who they had lost to the same illness she had...

If she had been Jungkook or Jimin, she would have never even gotten close to herself. Dealing with the same illness once again must be hard on them, she was sure. Thinking back on it now, seeing how Jungkook suffered and how Jimin pushed himself so hard for both of them, she couldn’t be anything but grateful for his efforts. He was alone in this, taking care of two people, putting aside his own sufferings. How could she deem him unprofessional? All the patience, the comfort, the care she had received from him... How could she be angry at him if, for one night, he gave more attention to his friend whose suffering he probably shared? He had said it himself: Jungkook was the only thing he had left.

She placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Jiminssi… it’s okay.” The girl murmured. “I… I’ve seen how Jungkook was yesterday. Seeing him like that… I think… well, I cannot understand how you feel, but I’ve felt the powerlessness of seeing him suffer like that, the… guilt.” The girl put her knees to her chest, as if trying to hide.

“After knowing why he’s suffering, I won’t, no, I can’t blame you for anything that you might have done yesterday. You work so hard trying to help us both, that’s already enough.”

Jimin sadly smiled. “Thank you. I’m glad you understand, but still... I’ve been totally unfair towards you.”

“Life’s not a mathematical equation, though. And you couldn’t be in two places simultaneously. I don’t think you have to ask me forgiveness for anything. But... if that makes you feel better, I’ll accept your apologies.”

“Besides,” the girl added, passing a hand over the wrapped wrist. “I was glad I could talk to you this morning. When you woke me up, I... remembered bad things and...”

Jimin looked at her, questions popping up in his head. “Your mere presence helped me out a lot.” She finished, smiling.

“Now we’re even, right?” She murmured, holding up her wrist.

Jimin’s lips curled into a fond smile at that. “Yep. Even.”

“I better get going now, or I’ll be late.” She got up and locked herself in the bathroom.

Jimin sighed. After all his worries, the girl had given him a bit of his hope back. She had walked beside him and shared a bit of his burden. Maybe... If they got over the eating issue and the other traumas both Jungkook and Yin had... No, he couldn’t really be thinking that, could he? But... if Yin and Jungkook managed to get past their issues... she would be perfect for him. He couldn’t believe he was seriously thinking of supporting an eventual relationship between the two. Jungkook falling in love, that was already something out of the world. But they seemed to be attracted to each other, there was chemistry. Jungkook always carried all the fault on his shoulders. If she helped him the same way she had done with him... and if he could help her... Then, they could really become happy. That long-dreamt peace, blissful utopia of joy...

Maybe they could achieve it.

Together.

Chapter Text

External POV

Jimin got ready to go out. When the girl saw him again, she stopped in front of him.

“Is Jungkook... Okay?”

“Yes. The fever has gone down quite a lot, and he's more conscious. He's still quite weak though and has gone back to sleep just before I woke you up earlier.” Jimin mumbled as he gathered his clothes.

“I'm relieved to hear that...”

“I’m going out this morning.” Jimin murmured, zipping up his warm jacket. “I have to buy some more medicine. I’ll be back around lunchtime, probably. Your schedule…”

He picked up the paper they had handed them the first evening and squinted, sliding his finger down the appointments. “You should be back around three, right?”

“Yes. I don’t have anything this afternoon.”

“Good. Ah, right, I still haven’t asked you. How are you feeling now? I mean, energy levels and all.”

“I’m not feeling too weak.” The girl smiled.

“Let me take your blood pressure, just to be sure.” The girl sat back on her bed.

“I know it’s not pleasant for you, but I have to ask this. How are you coping with the food… thing that happened yesterday? I don't know how you feel about that, but it would be great if you could keep up the good work you did until now. Is it okay if I have them prepare you another soup?”

She nodded. “I’m okay. Let’s… continue like this for a bit. I’ll stick to the food I’m sure I can handle. I don’t want to cause… any more problems for you and… Jungkook.”

Jimin smiled. “Alright. I’ll help you as well as I can. Again, I didn’t mean to leave you alone yesterday.”

“It’s okay.”

The room was filled with a comfortable silence, a wordless, mutual perception of each other's pain and struggles. For Jimin, it was still impossible how the girl seemed to feel and understand their pain, and comfort both him and Jungkook in the quietest and most effective way.

“Your blood pressure isn’t great, but it’s not one of the worst readings you’ve had, so I’m not really concerned. Just make sure to eat at least something before lunch. There are a few grapes left in the fridge, I think. I’ll buy more when I go out. Are grapes fine or would you like something else?”

“Grapes are perfect, thank you.”

“Good.”

Jimin murmured, before putting away his instruments. “We’re done here, so you’re free to go.” He smiled.

“Thank you for everything. I better get going if I don’t want to be late” The girl got up to leave. She hesitated for a moment, a shadow passing over her.

“Is it okay for me... to be here?” she mumbled, looking at the sleeping boy on the other side of the room.

“What?”

The girl turned around. Jimin was looking at her in confusion. “What do you mea-”

“Ah, don't pay attention to me, I was just rambling...” The girl immediately cut him off. She hastily bowed to him and quickly disappeared into the corridor.

Jimin stared at the now closed door. “Ah damn it. What did she say? Is she allowed to be here? Did she mean here with Kook?” He passed a hand through his hair. “I better explain to her what's going on with Kook before she goes crazy or something. But will telling her the truth help her? How would she react if I told her Jungkook's brother died from... anorexia?”

He shook his head. He would think about that later. Jimin quietly walked towards Jungkook's bed. The boy was still sleeping. He delicately placed a hand on his forehead. He would have wanted to give him another medicine to lower his fever more, but he had none. That's why he had to go out and buy it as soon as possible, he reminded himself. Not wanting to wake Jungkook up, Jimin left a note and a glass of cold water on his bedside table. “I went out to buy medicines. I have to do quite some stuff, so I won’t be back before lunch. Drink some water and get plenty of rest. -Jimin”

------------------------------

Jungkook woke up to a deserted, silent room. A terrible headache was pounding in his skull. He looked around: light filtered through the large windows, painting streaks of light on the floor. It must have been late in the morning.

With a bit of a struggle, he sat up. He was still slightly dizzy, and in his muscles lingered a general soreness that made it hard for him to move much. When he felt he had adjusted to the new position and the black spots in his vision faded, he looked around once again. He spotted a bright, star-shaped sticky note on his bedside table, next to a glass of water. He took the glass. Only after avidly downing the whole thing in one go did he realize how parched his throat was. He made a mental note to thank Jimin, who must have been the one to have put the water next to him. He picked up the sticky note and squinted to read it. The tiny syllables written on it confirmed it was indeed Jimin. Must he always write things so tiny? He searched for his glasses and was finally able to read.

… so Jimin would come back around lunch. Okay, what time was it now? He looked at the clock: 10:30. He also read the schedule for the day. Yin would be back in the early afternoon. He sighed, noticing that by now he should have attended to what sounded like an extremely interesting lecture on writing and creativity. Instead, he was there, sitting on a stupid bed with nothing to do. He was still sleepy, but he felt like he had been unconscious for the past two days, and it was getting frustrating. Moreover, he was all sweaty, his clothes uncomfortably sticking to him. His bedsheets too, were a total mess. Rummaging in the drawers of his bedside table, he found the thermometer and took his temperature.

37,9°C

He huffed in displeasure. It was still quite high. That was probably why he felt so hazy. Should he stay in bed? Jimin would have obviously said so, but he was always so apprehensive…  

“I’m just going to change my clothes, that’s not that big of a deal… right?”

He tentatively sat on the edge of his bed, placing his feet down. Now that he had been sitting for some time, he didn’t feel dizzy. Maybe he was just slower to adjust to the new movements? Slowly, holding himself up against the headboard of the bed, he got to his feet. Again, a wave of dizziness hit him, overflowing his vision with black spots and making his heartbeat furiously. But luckily, it didn’t last long. His head still hurt because of the pounding headache, but he could bear it. Now that he was on his feet, he just needed to take a quick shower and get new clothes. He was known to be quick, with his three minutes in-and-out washes, so he figured the effort wouldn’t strain him that much. Out of pure precaution, he didn’t lock the door. If he had fainted in the shower -highly unlikely, but possible, given he was quite sick- he had to make sure someone could get him out of there. He chuckled to himself, thinking that maybe this was the first time he listened to what Jimin told him.

He thought back at how many times Jimin had scolded him because he had locked himself up in the bathroom, yelling that “it was not safe.”

Jungkook had never really deemed fainting in a shower booth something likely enough to take such precautions, but Jimin’s episode yesterday had made him change his mind. Jimin's migraines were terrible, and without the meds, they lasted from an hour to about 6-7 hours when they were at their worst. The pain was so debilitating that even the sound of his own breathing hurt Jimin. If Jimin had locked the door, what would have happened? When Jungkook helped him out of the shower booth, he couldn’t even stand on his feet. Now he was grateful Jimin had been prudent. He made a mental note to listen to his hyung more, and he got out of the shower. He was getting tired, so he quickly chose some comfortable clothes and put them on.

As he walked back to his bed, he realized the bedsheets were still damp with his sweat. He groaned. He had intended to change those, but the familiar dizziness was creeping back on him. He was at his limit, exhausted. So, instead, he grabbed a book, his phone, another glass of water and placed everything next to Jimin’s bed before sitting down. He leaned back against the headboard and sighed in relief.

“Jimin won’t mind,” he thought. “My hyung’s nice to me when I’m sick. He might kill me because I took a shower when no one was around, but- well, I’m not a kid, anyway.” He smiled to himself and chugged down the second glass of water. His bladder would not be happy.

Jungkook opened the book, but once again, nothing he read made sense to him. The pages that he deeply cherished before, all the words he eagerly used to devour, now had no meaning. Just stains on a piece of paper.

He read and read, but still his mind would wander away, deep into his thoughts. It didn’t help that his headache had gotten stronger, making it impossible for him to concentrate. His eyes burned because of the fever, and his vision would get blurry now and then. After ten minutes of prolonged agony, Jungkook finally gave up. He laid down; an arm cast over his eyes.

Being left alone with his thoughts cast upon his mind more of a headache than the illness itself. Slowly, the night’s fragmented memories resurfaced. He remembered someone carrying him to the hotel room, but who was it? Jimin hyung? No, it didn’t feel like him.

“Mr. Jeon, let’s go home.”

These words had unconsciously been echoing in his head since he had woken up. They were too familiar. He was sure he had heard that voice before. Even in his feverish dreams, he had heard it over and over again.

Yin.

Jungkook opened his eyes. Had it been Yin to carry him here? It must have. The more he tried to remember though, the more his mind became fuzzy and confused. An uncomfortable tension grew in his chest at the thought that the girl had seen him in that state. There were still things he didn’t remember, but it didn’t matter. What he cared about was to know what exactly the girl had seen and heard. What did she know? He was sure he had cried desperately about Junghyun at one point yesterday, though he did not know when, or who had been with him during that time. Had Jimin told her? And how was she? Had she eaten, eventually?

He remembered more clearly the girl's issues with eating the evening before. But the whole problem didn’t feel so troubling now as it had felt last night. It was as if in him had insinuated the hope she would be fine in the end. Why? He didn’t know. Logically thinking, there wasn’t much that could give him hope, given his brother’s death and the girl’s struggles. Were Jimin and him just prolonging her suffering? Were they trying to save someone who was already doomed to a premature and unjust death? Were they fighting a lost battle? His heart’s answer to these doubts was yes. In his mind, she was already dead. He couldn’t do anything. But somehow, his heart quivered and clenched in anger at these answers. It squirmed and rebelled against that death sentence, against that label that had been put on the girl's destiny. Not everything was lost. They would be able to save her. It was a feeble hope, but it had now unexplainably turned into the terrible roaring of a wild beast. It would scream and scream, yell that not all was lost. She wasn't dead, she wouldn't lose this battle. She was strong, she would make it.

How could he be sure of that?

He wasn’t, but somehow the dark claws of death couldn’t overshadow that light anymore. Now, when fear tried to suffocate that hope, its rays would elude the darkness of despair and make their way to his aching heart.

But how come now of all times? Wy, after the girl’s setback and his breakdown?

Just as he thought back on that, he heard the door opening. It was Yin. Jungkook confusedly stared at her. Why was she here? Had he lost track of time?

“Oh, you're awake Jungkoo- uhm... Mr. Jeon...” the girl murmured, staring down at the floor.

Wait. Did she call him… Jungkook?

Jungkook’s heart pounded in his chest. Why was she using his name? Why did it feel so right though? It shouldn’t have been right: he was her teacher; didn’t students always call their teachers with the surname? But she called Jimin with his name too… so why not?

Jungkook shook these confusing thoughts from his mind.

“Hello Yin. I- I’m awake.” He mentally facepalmed. What was he saying? The grogginess of his own voice surprised him.

“Um… are you feeling better?” the girl mumbled, not daring to lift her eyes higher than the feet of the bed.

Jungkook cleared his throat. “Yes, I feel better, thanks…”

“I’m glad to hear that. I should… leave you to rest...” The girl hastily bowed and walked towards her side of the room.

“Ah, wait!”

The girl stopped in her tracks.

“Actually… I feel like I haven’t spoken to anyone in ages. I wouldn’t mind… you know, some company…”

“Oh. O-okay.”

Jungkook sighed and picked up his glass to drink. To his dismay, he realized it was already empty.

“Would… would you like some tea? No, maybe something cold is better…” The girl asked, immediately grabbing the empty cup from the boy’s hands.

Jungkook stared at her, dazed for a second. Only after a bit did he realize he was still holding the cup. He clumsily let it go and cleared his throat once again. “J-just water. Yeah, water is okay… thank you.”

What was wrong with his brain? He couldn’t process anything nor speak normally. He waited for the girl to come back, trying to clear his mind and find the appropriate words. But what did he want to talk about? He did not know what she knew and what she didn’t. Well, maybe that was what he had to start with.

“Here it is…”

The girl’s words brought Jungkook back from his trance.

“Ah… thank you.” He took the cup in his hands and was about to drink when he noticed the girl was standing on her feet, nervous.

“You can sit down here… if you want…”

The girl nodded and sat on the chair next to the bed. She sipped the tea she had prepared for herself, staring at her shoes. The room filled with thick silence, which became more suffocating the longer it lasted. They spent what felt like an eternity in this uncomfortable state, between furtive glances and frugal sips. It was only when, bringing the mug to her lips, the girl's loose sleeves slid down her arms and her bandaged wrist got exposed that the silence finally broke.

“A-are you hurt?” Jungkook exclaimed. Had he been in a better mood, he wouldn't have made such a fuss. He would have tried to hint at it subtly, careful not to make the girl uncomfortable. But the prolonged and nerve-wracking wait had been picking at his self-control, and when he saw the bandage, he couldn't contain his surprise.

The girl hastily rolled her sleeves down and covered the wrist, distress visible in her eyes at the mention of her arm.

“I-it’s nothing, I’m not hurt. I was just rubbing it unconsciously… a-and… well, Jiminssi bandaged it for me so that I wouldn’t hurt myself…”

“Ah… okay…”

“I-it’s something I’ve been doing for a long time, just a stupid habit…” She let out a tense, awkward laugh before falling into an uneasy silence once again. The wait was killing Jungkook. He tried to find the right words to start, but he couldn't think of any. His headache had grown exponentially, and the turmoil of emotions that were making his heart pound relentlessly didn’t help. How long could he resist?

He feared the anxiety that was rapidly creeping on him. The more he waited, the more he grew exhausted and moody. He took a deep breath. “It’s now or never,” he thought. “Here goes nothing.”

“I wanted to tell you… well- ask... something. About… yesterday.” The boy mumbled, nervously placing his glass down. The girl did the same and waited for Jungkook to find the courage to speak.

“I- I don’t remember clearly what happened yesterday. I’m sure you were involved, and you surely have seen in what condition I was in. I think I owe you some explanations, but first, I need to know what happened and what… you know.”

As soon as he pronounced those words, he felt as if a heavy weight had been released from his chest. Now that he had found the courage to start the conversation, would it get easier?

“Well…” the girl murmured. “Many things happened last night… Do you remember anything at all?”

“I know about the dinner and… the issues with it. I remember running off, but I do not know where, or when.”

“During dinner… you got up and left. I think Jiminssi ran after you, but he soon came back to the table. He looked devastated, so I didn’t have the heart to ask him anything else.”

Jimin’s pleading words flashed before Jungkook’s eyes. He remembered his grip, his hands desperately holding onto him, his eyes silently praying for him to come to his senses. A pang of guilt stabbed him. After everything Jimin had done for him, he repaid him with harsh words and glares.

“... Are you okay?”

Yin's words brought Jungkook back to reality. Following the girl's stare towards his fists, he noticed he was gripping the bedsheets, his knuckles white. He let go, resting his back on the headboard. Pinching the bridge of his nose hoping to get rid of some of the pressure, he forced himself to nod.

“Yes, sorry... I’m fine.”

The girl shot him another hesitant glance, but finally continued with her summary. “… We went back to the room, but then it started raining, so I went outside and… found you on the ground in an alley.”

So it was her. The mention of what had happened awoke the black fear once again. It started as a feeble whisper, but as the girl kept talking, it grew to a shadow so dark that it was impossible to ignore.

“I-I just brought you back and then Jimin went outside to search for some medicine. I don’t know what happened then, because I fell asleep, but I think he found them, since… you seem to feel better.”

What had the girl heard, then? Did she know about Junghyun? Jungkook had told no one about his brother. It was scary. How was he going to tell her? What would he say? It didn't help that despair was getting hold of him once again.

“Weren’t you supposed to come back around three?”

The girl, a little taken aback by the abrupt change, took some time to reply. “Actually… I had a lot of stuff going through my head and couldn’t focus at all. It felt suffocating to be alone with those unknown people, and… I just left. I didn’t think this through, but… I don’t know, I just needed… time. And answers.”

Just when Jungkook thought he could back away from the topic for a while. He sighed.

“Okay. I knew I had to tell you someday, it’s just… I didn’t expect it to be so soon. These things… I’ve never told them to anyone. I honestly don’t know how to go about it. But I think I owe you an explanation.”

He got ready to speak, a feverish tremor taking hold of his body. “Back then, well… when I was seventeen… I… I mean- we… Jimin, Yoongi- ah, you don’t know who he is, well-”

The girl put a hand on his trembling one. Startled, he stopped talking.

“You don’t have to tell me. If it’s too hard, then I’ll understand.” “But I-” Jungkook stopped himself from continuing. It was becoming too much, he had to calm down first.

“J-just give me a minute…”

He closed his eyes and focused on his breathing. The girl didn't move, her hand still on his, bringing him a comfort he had unknowingly been longing for. It was something new, completely different from the brotherly warmth Jimin could offer. While he felt safer when with Jimin, the girl's presence wasn't uncomfortable as he had thought it would be. Never in his life had he felt so understood by someone who wasn't Jimin.

“Let’s do it this way…” the girl murmured when she noticed Jungkook was about to speak once again.

“I’ll ask you some questions… the things I would like to know. If it’s too hard, you can just skip the question.”

“Okay…”

“Then… I’ll start with the first one…” She took a deep breath. Without realizing, she was still holding Jungkook’s hands. And the boy didn't complain, as it gave him strength.

“Is my eating disorder triggering bad memories for you?”

Jungkook tensed, taken aback. He had expected questions about his brother. Hadn’t Jimin really told her something about that? And what could he answer to that? He didn’t want her to feel guilty.

“Please, answer honestly…” She knew already, she had heard it all. But she had to hear it from him.

Jungkook sighed. “… Yes. It isn't the first time I face this kind of... things. But- don’t feel guilty because of that. It's not your fault.” Jungkook’s heart was beating furiously. The girl nervously eyed him, wondering if she should continue.

“Go on. Ask the next one.” He was desperate to get it over with this torture. His breathing was growing shallower once again, but he pushed forward, hoping he would hold for a bit longer.

“Is Jiminssi involved in that past too?” Jungkook nodded.

“And… did something like yesterday ever happen to you before?”

Another nod. “M-many times…” A lump formed in his throat.

“The time I fainted in school… did you… disappear because of that…?”

The loud beating of his heart rang in his ears. “… yes.”

“Maybe this is too personal, but... I heard it from Jimin yesterday… the person you were calling in your delirium… he was… your brother, right?”

The much-dreaded question. Jungkook couldn't hold it in anymore. The ocean of fear had been gradually chipping away at his self-control. And now, the last, terrible wave had breached his fortress. Copious tears made their way down his flushed cheeks, as his breathing grew shallower, and his mind turned into a hazy mess.

“My brother… Junghyun…”

“He… he…”

“You don’t have to tell me- it’s fine!” The girl tried to calm him down. But he shook his head.

“He died… eight years ago… because of anorexia…” He finally burst into sobs. The girl stared, petrified, as the boy’s breathing grew erratic.

“I’m scared… scared that you…” he sobbed.

“I don’t want to lose you Yin! I – I can’t lose you too! I can’t let the same illness take away someone I care for again!”

Yin’s eyes filled with tears. Her lips quivered as the boy’s desperate sobs rang in her ears. It was happening all over again. His pain stabbed her heart, just as it had done the day before. The desperation with which he cried out her name and his fears terrified her. Why, why was she hurting him so much? Why was she always hurting people around her?

“We’re all trying, but what if it doesn’t work? I’ve seen it before, the look in his eyes, I’ve seen his light being taken away from him, I’ve seen the face of death…”

Death. The girl couldn't believe what she was hearing. She had never thought about it that seriously, but now... thinking where that behaviour was leading her... She had never thought about death like that. It had saved her from misery, when its black claws had dragged her abuser down to hell. When the man who had tortured her and her mother for so long had died, she hadn't spilled a tear. She didn't feel sorry; she didn't suffer. She was... just... tired.

Death had been no more than a name to her. If she lived or died, that made no difference. She had never cared about herself. If she didn’t want to die, that was only because of her love for nature and everything that grew, breathed, moved in the big world.

But now, in front of her stood a man, to whom death was the abuser.

A man who cared about her.

A man to whom it mattered, if she lived or died.

“I can’t, I can’t let that happen to you…” Jungkook sobbed endlessly, head on his knees, already hyperventilating. At that sight, the girl shook herself from the initial shock.

“Jungkook, please calm down!” But he wouldn't listen, he couldn't; hands in his hair, breathing erratic, he drowned in his tears, the screeching of his fears making him want to disappear forever.

“I’m gonna get better! I swear! I’m never gonna let this stupid illness get the best of me! Please, Jungkook, calm down! Please…”

Tears had started rolling down her cheeks, as she desperately attempted not to succumb to her own guilt and sorrow.

“Please… I swear it to you, I’m never going to give up!” She tightly held his hands, trying to get a hold of Jungkook, to reach him somehow.

“Jungkook, calm down, please... I didn't know what death meant before, I- I had no idea! How could I? But now I know... You showed me what that means, a- and all the devastation it carries with it... Just trust me, I don't want to die! I won't let that happen, no matter what!”

“Jungkook...”

Chapter Text

External POV

Jimin stepped out of the hotel in the warm morning sun. A fresh breeze danced around him, wrestling with the mouth-watering smell of freshly baked bread. It came in whiffs, escaping from quaint, little shops hidden in the narrowest alleys.

Jimin had seen one of those shops the day before, wandering around the town: old bakeries, a bit crammed, with worn, wooden floors, small windows, homely couches.

Not even the fancy cafes Jimin always dreamed of in his magazines could rival the familiarity and “old times” feeling this kind of places gave off.

For the first time since the night before, he felt like he could breathe again. It was true, Jungkook was alone, but he trusted him enough not to do anything dangerous... or at least he hoped so.

The girl would come home around three, so Jungkook would probably face no triggers.

He strolled down the street, his eyes curiously observing at the people who passed by, who causally crossed paths with him on that sidewalk, on that day.

There was a boy: a little child to be exact. He was tormenting his mother with the new video game, as the mother trudged forward, dragging groceries in one hand... and the son with the other.

A girl hastily walked down the main street, her coffee leaving a trail of steam behind it.

The thick steam got interrupted by a man in his forties, crossing the street on his rusty bike, with groceries in his basket.

A normal life… Jimin didn’t remember what it felt like.

How was it to live normally, enjoying the tiny pleasures of life? How did it feel, living in the sun, instead of carefully walking on eggshells under a gloomy, ever-growing shadow of an incoming doom, taking uncertain paths that seemed to lead nowhere?

What did true happiness feel like? How was it to wake up one day and deciding to do what you wanted to do? That was a luxury Jimin had never been able to afford.

Yes, he had saved up some money; he had gotten the apartment next to Jungkook’s in the university campus; he had bought a car; nevertheless, he had done everything for Jungkook, and under the dark shadow of the younger’s possible relapses- or worse.

He had saved up to help Jungkook before he graduated; he had found a job in his same school, although he would have much preferred to live by the sea back in Busan.

The car, too: he had bought it so he could drive Jungkook around. An alcoholic couldn’t possibly drive a car safely, so he would do it in his stead.

An alcoholic and a man suffering from chronic migraines... Jimin didn’t know who was more dangerous behind the steering wheel anymore.

After walking around for a bit, Jimin stopped in front of the pharmacy. He brought many boxes of Tylenol, “just to be sure I never run out again,” he told to himself. He also bought some for the old man who had been so kind the night before.

He still had to give that old man his umbrella back and would use that excuse to give him the Tylenol, and... maybe... talk with him.

Digging in his hazy memory, he reconstructed the way to that old man’s house. Halfway there, though, he saw a figure, carrying heavy grocery bags as he limped forward.

“Sir, let me help you!” Jimin ran to him.

“Oh hello, it’s you again. Thank you” The man replied, letting the boy carry his bags.

Jimin slowly walked down the street. The man hobbled forward, heavily putting his weight on his walking stick.

“These old legs… it’s getting harder to walk around when they refuse to collaborate….” He chuckled.

“Sir… don’t you have anyone that could help you with this kind of stuff? A friend, a relative…”

The man shook his head. “My wife died a couple of years ago…”

“Oh! I’m sorry to hear that…”

“There’s no need to be sorry, though.”

“What?”

The old man stopped next to a bench.

“Let’s stop here for a second. My legs need a bit of rest.”

With Jimin’s help, the man sat down. He sighed, looking around with satisfaction.

“Today’s a really nice day. It’s almost summer, you can feel it in the air.”

“Why would there be any need to feel sorry for my wife?” he continued on. “She died in a peaceful way. She was already quite old and had no reason to stay here any longer. She’s probably happier now in heaven than what she’s ever been here.”

The old man turned towards Jimin, smiling calmly.

“You don’t seem to be that convinced by what I said”

Jimin shook his head.

“I understand this... but... you must have suffered, right? There’s nothing more painful than seeing a person who you cared for disappear in front of your eyes. The day before they were there, speaking with you, laughing, being annoying…”

Jimin’s eyes darkened with distant sorrow, buried deep inside him.

“And before you know it, they’re gone. You couldn’t say goodbye to them, you regret that your last words weren’t of love but of mere daily conversation, maybe a stupid joke, maybe even harsh words of anger and frustration.”

A gust of wind made Jimin shiver.

“You’re right.” The old man mumbled, looking around at the kids playing, laughing and running, slowly consuming their childhood.

“It was painful, indeed. When you get old, you realize that it’s just a question of time, of when and how. You know death is inevitable. Everything is fine; then one day you wake up, and you feel it in your bones, that the best time of your life has disappeared behind you; your youth has now turned into fading memories stuck behind an inaccessible gate. And although you know death is coming, you’re never prepared enough.”

The man patted Jimin’s shoulder, shaking him from his dark thoughts.

“Let’s go to my house, hmm? My legs aren’t hurting as bad now. Let’s drink some tea together. I’ve bought some delicious rice cakes, but I can’t eat them all alone, can I?”

Jimin’s lips curled into a melancholic smile.

“Alright”

-------------------------------------

“Here’s the umbrella from yesterday, sir. I’ve also bought some medicines, so I can pay you back for the ones you lent me yesterday. Here’s the Tylenol… and here’s a vitamin integrator that should give you some extra strength when you need it.”

“Ah! Thank you!” said the old man, accepting the gifts.

“Come inside!”

They sat down at the old wooden table, sipping some tea the man had prepared.

“I still don’t know your name, though,” the old man commented.

“Ah, my bad… with all the confusion I forgot. My name is Jimin, Park Jimin.”

“And my name’s Kim Do Hyun… nice to meet you.”

They bowed to each other, smiling.

“So… Jimin, how’s your friend doing?”

“He’s much better thanks to the medicines. I think he’ll still have to stay in bed for a day or so, but I hope he’ll be okay after that.”

“It’s uncommon for young, healthy men to get so ill, though. How old is he?”

“He’s 25. Let’s just say that… he was already not in a good place… mentally. The fever just made everything worse.”

“Oh my. I bet it’s been hard for both of you.”

Jimin rubbed his neck, now feeling how tense and sore he was.

“Well… yes, it’s been hard. He’s suffered from anxiety and other disorders because of something that happened 8 years ago… and… I’ve been helping him out ever since.”

Jimin wondered why he was saying all these things. He had never revealed anything to anyone, why was he telling them to this man he barely had ever spoken with before yesterday?

He took another sip of his tea. There was something that still bothered him, deep in his heart. The conversation before had cut off, and he still hadn’t voiced all his questions.

“But... about what you said before… I wouldn’t want to be indiscrete, but… if you agree that the passing of your wife was indeed painful, how can you… talk about it so easily, how can you say there’s no need to be sorry?”

“I already told you, haven’t I?” replied the old man.

“She’s probably happier now than ever. Yes, it hurt me when she died, but you can’t mourn for your entire life. You have to learn to move on. Not just for yourself, but for who passed away. They wouldn’t wish you to stop living to mourn on their death. Wouldn’t they be angry, even? Why not live on, cherishing their happy memories, and their whole life? Why reduce their existence to their death? The deepest act of love is being able to let go, someone said. That’s true. That’s the best thing you can do for who leaves for a better world, and also for you, who are left behind.”

For a good while, they drank their tea in silence. Jimin was confused, angry, desperate, relieved; the man’s words had opened a completely new perspective on death.

But what did the man know about Junghyun? He had died young, without being able to experience life, unjustly destroyed by a disease. Wouldn’t anger be the right thing to feel when faced with such injustices?

But at the same time, what the old man had said was also true: they had crossed out Junghyun from existence. It had become a scary shadow, a nameless fear. The only thing they associated with him was “death” and “pain.”

Oh, where had they buried all his life, his memories, his love? Why had they willingly hidden all that in favour of a gloomy, endless mourning?

“But let’s stop talking about this, shall we? You look tired. Are you here on vacation?”

The old man asked.

Jimin took a bit of time to stray away from his thoughts, but the man’s questions helped.

“Actually, I’m here to accompany my friend. He’s a literature teacher, and one of his students won the literature contest that’s taking place around the town. I just tagged along to make sure they were fine. The student too… she’s a girl who’s been going through some rough stuff recently.”

“Ah… I see you’ve got lots to take care of. Have you got a girlfriend, at least?”

Jimin almost choked on his tea at the sudden question.

“Well… no.”

“Ah, come on!” the old man replied. “Such an intelligent, handsome young man without a girlfriend! That’s a shame! How come?”

Jimin shrugged.

“I just didn’t have the time to search for one. Outside my work, I don’t really spend much time with friends, if not two or three old friends from high school. But we’re all remarkably busy, so we meet rarely.”

“And dreams? You must have some kind of aim in mind, right? Why would you be working so hard otherwise?”

Jimin didn’t know what to reply. He dreamt of Jungkook getting better. But a dream of his own, he hadn’t had a proper one in a long time.

Or maybe he hadn’t allowed himself to have one.

He shrugged again.

“I had one when I was in high school.”

“And what was it?”

Jimin smiled to himself, his old ambitions flashing before his eyes.

“… becoming a dancer. It didn’t matter which type, be it hip-hop, modern, classical ballet, whatever. I wanted to express my feelings through dance.”

“And why didn’t pursue that, then?”

Jimin shook his head.

“It just… didn’t work out.”

“Oh, that’s a shame. Why, you weren’t good enough?”

“No, on the contrary, I had been offered many scholarships, but I decided not to accept them.”

“And why, if I’m not too rude to ask?”

“I… my friend was in a really bad place at that time. I had been taking care of him like a brother, because I’ve seen how much he has suffered. And so… I didn’t have the heart to leave him to go fulfil an egoistic dream of mine. I couldn’t stand the thought of me having fun and dancing all day while he destroyed himself alone.”

“I get it… you’re a really altruistic young man. Few would have done the same if they had been you.”

The man took a long sip of tea.

“But tell me… everything you’ve told me of, you’ve done it for someone else. This guy, your friend, wouldn’t there be a way to make him feel better and teach him how to handle things on his own? He will get tired of getting babysat one day. And you… you have to live for yourself too. It’s good that you care for your friends sometimes, but you can’t annihilate yourself because of that. Now that you’re a man, now that your friend is 25 years old, wouldn’t it be time for you to live for yourself?”

Jimin blankly stared at his tea. He had sworn. He had sworn he would have never gone back to his stupid dreams.

Although Jungkook had been going through hell in the last few days, there had been some hints of a change inside him.

Even through all the pain and devastation, Jungkook’s eyes shone with a powerful light. He was truly alive now. He wasn’t the lost, anesthetized lifeless body it had been for so long anymore. After giving up for so long, after all the times Jimin had thought he wouldn’t make it, Jungkook had finally started fighting for his life.

He relapsed frequently, but again, he refused to take the mood stabilizers. That had never happened before that year.

Now, now that Jungkook was taking his first steps into the big world all over again, reborn, and with a faint hope of happiness, who was Jimin to disappear to pursue his childish ambitions?

Who was he, to take back that life he had so selflessly gifted him? What would happen if he left him?

Yes, Jungkook was fighting his own battles now, rather than letting someone else do it in his place, but every time Jimin let his guard down, something bad happened.

What if, even now, while he was here, egoistically taking time for himself, Jungkook …

He was all alone, still feverish. What if he…

Jimin shook this fear from his head. But still, he couldn’t imagine a life not solely dedicated to Jungkook. That had been his choice of life. Some people choose a prestigious career, others choose family...

He had chosen Jungkook, the poor boy whose heart had been fatally pierced by the cruel earth they lived on.

Even if Jungkook got much better, he would never heal completely. Jimin too, who had experienced only a small fraction of Jungkook’s pain, still had nightmares of that evening, still cried at the mere thought of what had happened.

How was Jimin supposed to abandon him? How could he be so selfish to leave, give up on his promise just to become a dancer? How would he bear the guilt of having left someone behind to do that?

Jimin sighed. “I can’t… do that…”

“Why though?” the man, who had patiently been observing the boy’s internal battle, asked.

The boy bit his lip.

“I… I just can’t. A-and even if I wanted to, I would be too old to do anything significant with my body. Dancers can’t dance for their whole life. The most important part of a dancer’s training… I’ve lost those years. There would be no meaning in trying now.”

“I wasn’t talking about dancing, though.”

Jimin glanced at the man, confusion written all over his face.

“Living for yourself… you’ve forgotten what it means, it seems.”

The old man slowly got up, moved a couple steps towards the window and opened it, letting the morning breeze enter the room.

Do Hyun looked at the sun shining on the valley. People walked around as if they had gone crazy, the euphoria of a day foretelling a long-awaited summer propagating everywhere.

“Living your life doesn’t mean doing something grand. Or at least, that’s not necessary. Taking a walk, watching a movie you like… visiting a city you’ve always wanted to see. It could even be something different. What’s important is that you do something because you like it, because you want it.”

The man sat back down, looking straight into the boy’s eyes.

“You’re here because of your friend. You gave up your dream because of him. Do you even like this job? Did you really want to be a nurse?”

Jimin was shaken. He stood there, lips quivering, unable to answer.

“Jimin. What do you want? Who are you? In a future in which your friend gets better, what would you do?”

All those questions, all at once, everything he had buried for so many years, hiding it all even from his friends. He had avoided those questions for so long that he didn’t even know the answer anymore.

Now, faced with them once again, he was overwhelmed by it all, as parts of his mind yelled at him opposite things and wishes, warnings, threats.

The boy burst into tears. He hid his face in his hands, shaking his head.

“I don’t know… I- I don’t know…” He sobbed relentlessly.

He was confused and scared by the sudden possibility that Do Hyun had opened in front of him. If he started thinking about himself, if he started asking those forgotten questions to himself, how would he be able to bear the life dedicated to Jungkook?

“You don’t need to tell me. I get it, you need time.”

After a bit, Jimin calmed down, and the tears stopped wetting his cheeks.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to upset you…” the man murmured, handing the boy a tissue.

“No… It’s okay… actually, I feel better now that I’ve talked with you… thank you.”

Jimin looked at his watch.

“Oh, it’s getting late. I think I’ve already made use of your generous offer enough. I better be going.”

“You’re always welcome here, Jimin.” Do Hyun got up, patting Jimin’s shoulder.

“Thank you… We’re leaving in a couple of days, so I don’t know if I’ll be able to come back again. But maybe… in the future…”

“Be it two weeks, or two years from now… I’m always here.”

Jimin smiled. “Thank you. Truly. For everything you did for me. Then… Goodbye”

“Goodbye.”

------------------------------------------

After saying goodbye to the man, Jimin left. He felt strange. He had so many questions echoing in his head, but he felt lighter, as if a heavy weight had been lifted from his chest.

Those questions would come back to him, he was sure. He would struggle, torn between himself and Jungkook. But for now, he was just euphoric, glad he had confessed it to someone.

He calmly walked down the streets, sometimes closing his eyes and feeling how everything was alive around him. He listened to the cheerful kids playing in the park, then he felt the light breeze dance around him, the sun warming his skin.

As he walked back to the hotel, he stopped to buy some food. He was happy, and even excited.

He wanted to tell Jungkook what he had discovered about death by talking with the old man. How they had been doing everything wrong by associating Junghyun with his death, by trying to forget him, to cancel him from their existence as they tried not to suffer.

But things could change, right? If they changed their perspective, then…

Jimin stopped in front of the hotel room door, listening to what was going on inside. The girl was crying, saying Jungkook’s name.

Wait, Yin? Wasn’t she supposed to come home later? And why was she crying about Jungkook?

Jimin’s blood ran cold. With trembling hands, he opened the door, as dread invaded his heart.

He shouldn’t have left. He had left his guard down once again.

“What is going on?”

The girl was sat next to the bed.

Jungkook was hyperventilating, tears streaming down his face. Jimin had seen it happen countless times before his eyes: it was a panic attack.

He dropped his groceries on the floor.

Without much thought, he immediately jumped into action. He dashed to the bed, freeing himself from his shoes and jacket all in one go.

“Oh my god… what did you do? What happened?”

The girl stared helplessly, unable to answer, sobbing relentlessly.

“Hey. Hey hey Jungkook, Kookie… look at me, calm down.”

Jimin tried not to panic himself, although the guilt pressing on his heart made it much harder for him.

He laid Jungkook down, taking his head in his hands.

“Everything’s fine. Kook just look at me, hmm? Don’t think about anything. Relax.”

He stared into those suffering eyes. Jungkook was scared, he was terrified.

Jimin kept stroking his hair, whispering soothing words.

“Breathe… follow me, okay? Just do what I do.”

Jungkook knew it all. It had happened so many times. Jimin was aware of that, but still, he repeated every word, slowly, making sure Jungkook could understand him, as if it had been the first time it had ever happened.

“Now… give me your hand. Here. I’ll place it on my chest, you just have to follow my pace, alright?”

As always in these situations, Jungkook diligently followed his hyung’s instructions, and let him guide him through the entire process.

“See? Easy, right? Just look at me, remember the breathing technique?”

Jungkook nodded.

“Let’s do it together then. One, two, three…”

They continued until Jungkook’s eyelids started to feel heavy. He was still feverish, and the panic attack had completely exhausted him. Slowly, with his hyung’s comforting words, he fell into a deep sleep.

Only when the boy finally abandoned himself to the much-needed rest was Jimin able to draw a sigh of relief.

He passed a hand through his now sweaty hair and gave himself some time to recollect at least some of his long-gone composure.

Looking at the unconscious boy, he noticed the freshly washed hair, now wet with sweat, and the new pyjama. Tears were drying on his slightly flushed face, but it was obvious he had taken a shower.

Jimin sighed again, gently patting his face with a wet cloth.

Didn’t Jungkook know? Hadn’t he told him a million times how dangerous it was for him to shower alone while sick? How had he even mustered enough strength to do that when he still had a high fever?

If it hadn’t taken him so long to come back, no, if he had just gone out to buy the medicines and had come straight back instead of following his curiosity…

Jimin shook his head. This wasn’t the time for guilt. He could destroy himself all he wanted with harsh words later, he thought, but now he had more urgent things to sort out. First of all, he didn’t know what had triggered the boy’s panic attack, although he imagined what that could be.

Second, why was the girl here when she was supposed to come back in the afternoon?

But more than that, she was visibly upset, and stared into the void in front of her, without uttering a single word. Had the panic attack shocked her? Had Jimin said something that had made her this way? “What did you do…” he had said those harsh words, after all.

Even before Jimin had entered the room, the girl had been crying and begging. His words must have worsened whatever had happened, but it was that “before” that tortured Jimin.

What had the two told to each other? Had the mere sight of her caused all this in Jungkook? Had he pushed himself over his limits in some way?

Jimin had to know. But first, he had to calm the girl down. Ever since they had come to this stupid convention, he had been neglecting her needs to look after Jungkook. It must have been hell for her.

And although, when both in need, Jimin would instinctively choose Jungkook over the girl, he now recognized she needed help too.

He walked to the bathroom and washed his face. Staring at his exhausted reflection in the mirror, under the yellowish light of the bathroom, devoided of the morning sun, he thought his face had lost all its colour.

Around him, too, everything was different, or worse, back to usual. The vivid, bright colours of the streets, of the old man’s house, the tea and the candid rice cakes, the vibrant yellow of his sweater... Even in his memories, everything had gone back to the usual, greyish tones of daily life.

The spectacular magic had ended, the warmth he had felt on his skin was gone; now he felt cold, a shell of himself, like he had always been since that day he had gifted his life to Jungkook.

It was a shame; he thought. But remembering Jungkook’s flushed cheeks and his vivid eyes, maybe it wasn’t a bad thing, after all. It could have been Jungkook, the one to end up like that, dead amongst the living, completely numb amidst the storm of life.

Instead, slowly, the glowing, hot ember Jimin had deprived himself of, had stayed alive inside Jungkook. It had been hidden for so long, always on the brink of extinction.

But suddenly, it had revived the wood drenched in tears surrounding it. After long years, with much smoke, sizzling and laments, it had turned into a fire. The same fire now burned In Jungkook’s eyes, maybe much more than what it could have done in Jimin.

It was time to go; it was time to leave that rebellious part of himself behind. That part of him that craved the warmth of the ember, which yelled “take it back!” As if that was something possible.

The deed was done; the deal had been sealed long ago. Now the time for mourning had to end.

Jimin was dead. That child full of ambitions had exhaled his last breath the night he had declined the scholarship offers for the dance academies. He had been long gone.

Jimin dried up his face and walked out of the bathroom, ready to play his part once again, ready to become that role he had chosen for himself.

Chapter Text

External POV

Jimin walked out of the bathroom. The girl was still sat next to Jungkook, staring off into the distance, eyes emotionless. She flinched when Jimin reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder. She diverted her eyes to the ground.

“Hey… are you okay?” Jimin murmured, crouching down to look at her in the eyes. The girl forced herself to nod. But her eyes betrayed her: she wasn’t calm, nor okay.

“It doesn’t seem so…”

At those words, the girl’s last bit of self-control crumbled, and she broke in tears. Jimin immediately hugged the trembling girl, patting her head in a way he hoped would comfort her. He silently waited, and when he was sure she was calmer, he finally spoke again.

“Let’s talk. Just let me sort out a couple of things and then you’ll tell me what happened, alright?”

Reluctantly pulling away from the boy’s comforting hug, the girl nodded. Jimin quickly cleaned the room: only then he noticed Jungkook was lying on his own bed, rather than Jungkook’s. He changed the sheets in Jungkook’s bed and called room service so they would bring them clean towels and lunch. He put all the scattered medicines back to their respective places in his bag and picked up the bags of groceries he had abandoned on the floor earlier. After setting the small table, he walked up to Yin, who had been waiting, sat on her own bed, nervously playing with her hands, lost in her troubled thoughts.

Room service would be there in minutes, and Jimin was torn between having the girl have lunch or asking her about what had happened before and possibly helping her to get rid of her doubts. Jimin sighed, wondering what he could even say to make her feel better. It was his first time dealing with someone with an eating disorder, well, the second time, although with Jungkook’s brother, it had been different. He wasn’t a nurse back then, and he had no idea what he or his friends were trying to do.

Even now, despite all the experience under his belt, he felt no more qualified than eight years ago. Sighing, he crouched down in front of the girl.

“It’s almost lunchtime, but… I don’t think it’s a good idea to have this kind of conversation during lunch. Let’s talk now, and then eat something with Jungkook when he wakes up, alright?”

“But… wouldn’t my eating… trigger him?”

Jimin internally facepalmed. “... You’re right, that could happen. Well, we’ll think about that later. Let’s talk about what happened first, okay? Can you bear it or is it too much?”

Yin nodded. “It’s okay.”

Jungkook almost stirred, and Jimin quietly led the girl outside on the balcony not to wake him up.

“So…” Jimin murmured, leaning on the parapet, and breathing in the fresh air.

“Did you and Jungkook speak?”

The girl sighed, focusing her attention on a small butterfly which had landed on one petal of the crimson geranium.

“Yes… we did. I came home early because… I had many questions. And when I entered the room, he was awake. He looked tired, and his cheeks were flushed, so I assumed he still had a fever. I intended to leave him alone, so he could rest, but he asked me to stay.”

So it was Jungkook that had started this conversation. What was he thinking? Did he overestimate himself? Did he think he could endure this thing on his own? Jimin stood silent until he noticed the girl was looking at him. He nodded, and the girl quickly diverted her gaze.

“Well, first of all, he asked me what had happened. I tried to make my report as short on detail as possible, since I did not know what could have triggered him. Still, in some parts, he seemed to become a bit more anxious. Then he… wanted to tell me about his past, and Junghyun, but he didn’t know how to do it. We eventually decided I would ask him questions, and he would answer if he felt he could. But when it came to his brother… he panicked and started hyperventilating. I- it was my fault. If I hadn’t asked that question, he-”

Jimin sat down on a chair and patted the one next to him for the girl to sit too. So now she knew. She knew enough to understand what was truly going on.

“Listen here Yin, take it from someone who has been running on guilt for years. Regret and guilt can be useful to help you avoid making the same mistakes over and over again, but sometimes... they are illogical.”

“How could you know what would make Jungkook panic? Sometimes the smallest details make him go crazy. Sometimes he talks openly about his past with me and his friends and doesn’t want people around him to avoid the topic. I’ve messed it up too, countless times.”

“Jungkook’s past... It’s complicated, you know. His brother’s death... almost killed him. He’s not a bad person, even when he gets angry at me... he’s not himself. For years, he’s been a shell of himself, emotional, furious, then empty, numb.”

The girl looked at Jimin, noticing the sadness painted all over Jimin’s face.

“But recently something has changed. I wanted to tell you Yin, I’ve been trying to tell you for a long time now, but I wasn’t sure myself. I think that, since he met you this year, something has changed in him. And I’m not talking about his relapses or anything like that. I’m talking about the life in his eyes.”

Yin’s eyes shot up to Jimin, questions spinning in her head.

“I don’t know what happened there, what’s going on between you two, but I wasn’t lying yesterday when I told you you’re influencing Jungkook, both negatively and positively. Even before he discovered your eating disorder... there has been something different in him.”

Wow. Jimin had actually said it all. He stared at the girl, who was looking at him, lost expression in her eyes.

“I... I didn’t know all... this.” She murmured, voice barely audible, as she looked at her hands.

“Sorry. I didn’t want to shock you with all these things at once, I just... I felt like you deserved to know.”

A slight flush appeared on the girl’s cheeks. In the playground down in the hotel’s backyard, kid’s voices could be heard. A cool breeze was blowing, carrying the distant melody of a piano.

“Actually, there’s more.” The girl blurted.

“More? To what?”

The girl tugged a dark strand of hair behind her ear.

“To the conversation I had with Jungk- uh... I meant... with Mr. Jeon.”

“He told me… he was scared. That he didn’t want to lose me like he had done with his brother…”

Jimin’s eyes widened in shock. Had Jungkook really said that?

They remained quiet for some time, Yin’s cheeks still flushed, still amazed by how much care did her teacher have for her. They were almost strangers, and still… he would go out of his way to help her, would show himself in his vulnerable state, would torment himself over her wellbeing. Be it because of his brother or because he actually cared about her, her heartbeat furiously every time those words came back to her mind. She kept thinking back to it, wondering how it was possible for someone to care about her. That had never happened since she had left home. It must have been a misunderstanding.

Yes, all of it had to be just an enormous misunderstanding. He probably cared about her just because she reminded him of her brother, that was all. She had to get better for him, but she had better not to think about anything weird. But what about what Jimin had said? Even before discovering her anorexia, he...

Jimin, in the meantime, had connected the dots. There was something more, hidden in that girl’s past. The panic attacks, the fear of alcohol, her weird behaviours… there was something bigger than what they could have imagined earlier. This eating disorder… it stemmed from something greater, that Jimin couldn’t handle on his own. She had already made a lot of progress, but maybe that something that was keeping her from going even further was rooted deep in her past. Although he had tried to do all he could to help her out, he now realized this problem wasn’t something he could handle on his own.

Jimin crouched in front of the girl, calling her back to reality.

“Listen Yin. I don’t know what you experienced in your past, but I don’t think it’s something that should be ignored. I will continue to offer you all the help I can provide you with, but this problem… I think it extends past my capabilities. I-”

Jimin passed a hand through his hair, trying to figure out how to better put it.

“You can’t get better unless you want it, Yin. This is true for the food issue, as well as everything else. If you keep ignoring the things that happened in your past, you’re not going to magically get better. Things come back to haunt you, always. Yesterday you asked me if you were ever going to get better. I have to be frank with you, I do not know. But if we want to make it a bit more likely, you have to sort out whatever is stopping you from going forward. I can call my friend Yoongi; he is a psychologist, the same one that has been helping Jungkook out for years now. He can’t fix your problems but can help you fix them yourself.”

The girl looked quite confused by how clear and honest Jimin had been, but also glad. But could her problems really be fixed? She had never even thought about that. It all seemed too big, too rooted in her childhood for her to sort it out. But what Jimin had said up to now made sense. She had tried forgetting everything, numbing the pain by eating, then trying to fix the problem by being extremely controlled with her calorie intake, resulting in the mess she was in now.

She had fixed nothing and had made it ten times worse. So if what she had done by herself hadn’t worked… why not try what Jimin was suggesting?

“I won’t force you to do anything, Yin. But if you’d like to try, I can call him.”

The girl took a deep breath, hesitantly looking at Jimin.

“O-okay, I will try.”

Jimin smiled, getting up. “Good. I’ll text him right now.”

“Jimin!”

Before walking inside, Jimin turned around.

“Um… thank you… for everything you did… and for everything you’re doing even now…”

Jimin smiled again. “Thank you for trusting me once again, even after how messy I’ve been in the past few days.”

Right when Jimin turned around again, Jungkook appeared next to him, still sleepy, his tired eyes wandering around.

“K-kook… are you feeling better?” Jimin stuttered. He was glad Jungkook was feeling well enough to get up, but he wondered what effect would have had for Jungkook to see the girl, and he was trying his best to distract him.

“I’m good…” Jungkook murmured, voice groggy with exhaustion. Jimin got on his tiptoes and placed a hand on the boy’s forehead, smiling as he realized his fever was almost gone.

“You’re getting better indeed. I’ve ordered some soup, wanna eat it?” Jungkook smiled, kindly, and nodded. Only then did he notice the girl, quietly sat on the balcony, eyes glued to the ground. The smile faded from his lips, replaced by an unsure expression.

When she felt the boys’ stare upon her, and Jimin going quiet, she hesitantly lifted her gaze, and timidly bowed to Jungkook. She wanted to say something, but what? Nothing seemed appropriate to her, so she stood quiet and waited for him to speak.

Jungkook was still quite dazed, and he too was trying to find words to fix the mess he had created before. He’d better make use of this moment, however, since he was still quite numb and didn’t feel as terrified as he had felt earlier.

“I… I apologize for my behaviour earlier. I’m sorry you had to see that… again.”

Yin’s heart froze at the complete lack of emotion in Jungkook’s tone. It was cold, professional, even polite. It made her want to spill tears, disbelief propagating through her soul as she couldn’t imagine that suffering, poor boy that screamed in agony not even an hour before to be the same man that was speaking to her now. This wasn’t Jungkook, not even Mr. Jeon, with his characteristic kindness and attention to details. This was a shell of a person, a façade. It had happened once before, she now remembered.

After she had woken up, in the nursery. Jungkook had given her a blanket to cover herself, but his stare and movements were completely emotionless and cold. It had always been because of her… She caused his prolonged pain. Once again, she had destroyed a person. Like with her mother, it was Jungkook now, the one suffering because of her. The girl shook her head, not daring to look him in the eyes.

“It’s fine. I shouldn’t have asked questions in the first place…”

Jungkook wanted to tell her that wasn’t the case, that it was him that had started everything, but he had no courage nor energy left to say that. He simply walked back inside, Jimin’s worried gaze burning in his back as he sloppily sat back on the bed, head low in guilt and helplessness.

“Yin?”

The girl snapped out of her thoughts at Jimin’s call.

“Everything alright?” Jimin whispered, crouching next to her. Without waiting for a response, he rolled her sleeves down, since she had begun rubbing her wrist, even over the bandage.

“Do you feel like eating? Even just a bit?”

The mere thought of food made the girl feel queasy, all the guilt of eating coming back to haunt her. No, she didn’t feel like eating, at all. The coldness of Jungkook, the memories of her father and her mother, all these sick, shattered people around her, including herself, made her want to throw up all over the place. Still, she had no intention of causing more problems for Jimin and Jungkook. So she nodded and slowly made her way to the table that was already set.

“Two more days,” she thought. “Two more days and Jungkook will finally be able not to see me so often. I’ll stop being such a heavy burden, although I’ll remain a problem.” “That’s why I have to go to see this Yoongi as soon as possible and sort my life out. I have to stop being a burden to everyone.”

And so, determined to get better for Jungkook’s and Jimin’s sake, she downed her soup, eating more than half of it.

Chapter Text

External POV

Yin walked up to the rusty door, glancing back, unsure. Jimin warmly smiled.

“Go on. Don’t worry. Just go up the stairs and knock on the first door on the left. Do you want me to show you the way?”

The girl took a deep breath. Then, she shook her head. “No, it’s fine. Thank you for bringing me here.”

“No problem. Just text me when you’re done, I’ll come pick you up, alright?”

“T-thanks…”

The girl entered the building, cautiously looking around. Saying she was nervous was an understatement. Her heart pounded in her chest as she walked up the interminable steps that led upstairs. The place looked like an average, modest apartment complex, nothing fancy, simpler than what she thought a psychologist’s office would look like.

As soon as her eyes met the door, doubts and regrets started clouding her mind. She had never received treatment for what had happened in her childhood. All her trauma had been hidden beneath the surface, buried deep in her soul, purposefully ignored but ready to resurface whenever it fancied to. She had never thought she would even need treatment, thinking it all would be okay if she forgot about it. It had never even crossed her mind that her eating disorder could be connected to what she had suffered in the past, but Jimin implying it had made it more plausible now that she thought about it. If the problem stemmed from there, it was only logical to sort out whatever had gone wrong back then, so she could fix what was wrong now. Easy, right? But in reality, it had to be much more complicated than that. She had never told anyone what had happened. She had locked it so deep inside her that, when it resurfaced, the memories came as a shock, as a dark twist in a movie not even she expected.

She had no idea how to talk about something like that, not a single clue on where to start. If not triggered, she could forget all about her past, be fine. Or so she had thought. Apparently though, the dark claws of her past had extended past her subconscious and were influencing her thoughts and behaviours. If her past had such a powerful grip on her life, what would have happened if she talked about it aloud, and brought it back? How much pain and suffering would she still have to endure? For what? What if opening that portal of despair led to nothing but complete disaster?

With trembling hands, the girl knocked on the door. When a stern voice answered her to come in, she hesitated. But she had promised she would try. Mustering up all the courage she had, she pushed the door open and entered. No going back now.

————-

Jimin watched the thin figure disappear behind the large, rusty door. When he was sure Yin had gone in and would not come back out to tell him she had changed her mind, he walked back to his car. Sat in his seat, keys inserted, Jimin waited a couple of minutes more, inspecting the outside of the building to kill the time.

The dingy building had grown more run-down since the last time he had visited it. The bricks on the outside were pale, their original colour unrecognizable behind the encrusted layer of dust mixed with distant memories. He had been there so many times in the past, that he knew the building’s layout by heart. Every brick, every door, every dent in the building’s decrepit wooden window frames. Countless times, he had to drag Jungkook into Yoongi’s office, and had to make sure he wouldn’t run away. Over the years, it had become easier, Jungkook finally accepting he needed treatment, despite how hard it was to speak about those things.

In the beginning, Jimin would often have to sit outside the office, against the door, just to make sure Jungkook wouldn’t run off at the first chance. It was horrible to wait there, forced to hear all they would say, including all their past sufferings. He wondered how Yoongi, who was involved in Jungkook’s past just as much as Jimin, could do it.

A loud, menacing thunder echoed in the gloomy sky. A sigh escaped Jimin’s chapped lips. Gracious, small drops fell one after another, slowly engulfing the town in their blue dance, spreading their mourning over the soggy plaster of the buildings, running down the streets. Silent tears dropped into the narrow sewers, an underground city of melancholic memories, a parallel society hidden beneath the sturdy cement, which cried and gurgled, unheard under the frenetic steps of the inhabitants of the upper city, occasionally kissed by a deceiving sun.

Out of pure habit, Jimin reached for the small box of pills in his pocket, his saviour on many occasions. He opened it, only to discover it was empty. Instead of waiting in front of that dull building he had learned to despise, Jimin decided would make a quick stop at the hospital to get what he needed.

In the past week, after coming back from the convention, Jungkook’s and the girl’s interaction had diminished, and with that also the triggering risk. Jimin whenever alone and with some spare time on his hands, often thought back on what that old man had told him. He had tried to drown himself in work, but the haunting thoughts would eventually come back: in those years, they had been doing it all wrong. Death, for how sad and devastating it could be, was only natural to him. A thing that happened to anybody, and that didn’t make anyone special. Every life was different and unique because of their soul, memories, personality, body, not because one had died earlier than someone else. All this time, they had only feared death, and transformed Junghyun into a scary shadow of the past. It was their fault they hadn’t been able to move on. It was because of that Jungkook was still suffering so much, a slave to that dark shadow that followed him everywhere.

But how could they have known? How could Jimin know that? How could they openly talk about someone who had passed so early? A friend, a brother that had disappeared in front of them? Jimin wanted to tell Jungkook, but he still did not know if this even made any sense. In the past days, he had been torturing himself, trying to muster up enough courage to talk to Jungkook about what had happened, and what that man had told him. But every time he tried to do so, the words would get caught in his throat: even the most logical arguments he might have elaborated for hours, would crumble before his eyes at the first doubt. Every time, Jimin would have to come up with silly excuses to dismiss Jungkook after having caught his attention, leaving an always more confused and suspicious Jungkook.

After coming back from that convention, Jungkook, although he didn’t relapse, had changed. If it was for better or worse, Jimin couldn’t tell. He would be constantly lost in his thoughts, more restless and fidgety, and more unwilling to tell Jimin what was going on than he had ever been in a long time.

Jimin and Jungkook had been growing uneasy, both knowing they were hiding something from the other. Lost in a spiral of guilt and uneasiness, they had continued on, a whole week without almost speaking to each other, every attempt miserably ending in awkward silence.

Lost in his thoughts, Jimin drove through the city, rain pouring harder than before, knocking on the car’s windows, making it really hard to see more than a meter in front of him.

“Shit!”

A loud horn had been blown.

Jimin hastily turned the steering wheel, the tires screeching on the wet ground. His car finally came to a halt next to a sidewalk, luckily unscathed. Jimin stared ahead, eyes wide in shock, his hands still tightly gripping the steering wheel. What had just happened? He looked around, trying to understand. Not focused on his driving, Jimin had blown through a red light, and had risked getting hit by a car coming at him at full speed. At the realization, Jimin’s trembling hands jumped off the steering wheel, going up to his face, to cover his eyes.

“Seriously Jimin, what the heck were you thinking?” he told to himself. His heart was pounding in his chest. “And to think you were so concerned about somebody else’s death. Try not to kill yourself, instead.”

With his hands still shaking, he carefully started driving again, making sure, this time, he was actually looking where he was going. Jimin safely got to the hospital. He parked his car and walked towards the entrance.

It had stopped raining, and he slowly dragged his feet under the heavy sky. At the check-in desk, Jimin showed the nurse a neatly folded piece of paper, a prescription for his painkillers, made by Yoongi himself a long time ago after Jimin had begged him to help him out for Jungkook’s sake. Yoongi had pointed out, countless times by now, how it wasn’t good for him to curb the problem instead of going to the causes, which, Yoongi implied, could be found in his current way of living, not taking enough care of himself. But Jimin wouldn’t hear of it. Acting out of pity, and desperately wanting to ease Jimin’s debilitating symptoms, Yoongi had agreed and prescribed him strong meds that would make his terrible migraines disappear.

Jimin, happy to maintain the life he had decided to carry out, had been finally deprived of the physical red flags that would remind him of what he was doing to himself. It had been okay for some time, Jimin muting his conscience in favour of the great deed he had set out to do. But recently, as stress had intensified again, Jimin’s body had begun to rebel. And so here he was, now, paying a hefty amount for the familiar pills.

Passing by, quickly scanning a patient’s folder, Namjoon barely noticed Jimin at the counter. However, when he did, he stopped what he was doing and approached the clueless boy.

“Jimin!” He called, and the other turned around, a warm smile on his lips as he recognized the familiar voice.

“Hyung, I’m glad to see you. How is it going in here?”

Namjoon shrugged. “As always. I’m busy, but I can’t complain. I’m lucky to be able to coordinate such a great hospital.” As he talked, Namjoon noticed a familiar box in Jimin’s hands. Those medicines were Jimin’s. If he remembered correctly, Jimin had bought them not even a month ago. Weren’t they supposed to last longer?

“You’re great as always, I suppose. I’ve heard you still insist on performing surgeries, although you could simply stick to your job as the ceo…”

Namjoon shook his head. “I’m a doctor, after all. Me being the ceo doesn’t mean I forgot what I studied to become. Taking care of my patients is the top priority for me, and there are surgeries I don’t want to burden my students with.”

“But I’m sure they would be capable enough to handle them, if you let them.”

“Of course. But how’s Jungkook, anyway?”

Jimin eyed him suspiciously. He was avoiding the topic again. What was the true motive behind Namjoon’s obsession of burdening himself with as much work as possible?

“Well, I’m not sure myself. As you know, Jungkook is quite complicated.”

Namjoon nodded, relaxing now that they had strayed away from that uncomfortable corner Jimin was, maybe intentionally, pinning him into.

“He’s been sort of relapsing quite a bit, but nothing as serious as last time he was here.” Jimin continued, pinching the bridge of his nose.

At the unusual action, Namjoon became suddenly aware of a series of things in Jimin’s attitude which revealed an underlying uneasiness. Now that he paid more attention to it, Jimin looked quite tired, and as they had started conversing, he had moved away from the desk, and leaned on a wall with his back, as if searching for support.

“Jungkook has surely progressed since the beginning of this year, but his eagerness to abandon the mood suppressants and the other aids he’s always desperately been clinging to makes me wonder if we’re about to see him miraculously sort his life out or plummet into another dark age.”

Jimin spoke fluently, almost too eloquently, not showing any sign of his evident tiredness. But he looked impatient. He smiled a lot, a perfect smile, one that didn’t look totally genuine. He kept wiping his hands, as if they were sweaty.

“Jimin.”

“Yes?” the boy quickly replied, smiling, clueless to the other’s suspicions.

Namjoon played with the edge of the clipboard in his hands, trying to figure out how to put it, without alarming his friend.

“I… suddenly remembered the last time I saw you…” he casually murmured, scratching his head.

Making Jimin upset was quite easy, and despite always looking cheerful, he wasn’t easy to communicate with. He would always hide his pain, and, whenever someone even insinuated he needed help, he would get defensive and impossible to talk to.

“Well, in the parking lot with Yoongi… I mean, I wanted to know… is everything okay with that?”

Jimin’s warm smile faltered, slowly fading into pursed lips. He lowered his eyes to the ground. After a bit of hesitation, looked straight into Namjoon’s eyes.

“What do you mean?”

Namjoon almost flinched at the indifference in Jimin’s voice. But despite how much Jimin tried to conceal his bewilderment with his voice, his eyes betrayed him. He looked hurt. Namjoon instantly backed away. He regretted asking Jimin about his migraines. But still, it was too important for him to let it go. He tried once again.

“I mean the migraines, Jimin. Those pills you have in your hands; do you take them often? If you came to have a check-up, maybe we could figure out... I mean... You know, you aren’t supposed to take-”

“I’m fine hyung.” He replied, sternly. Jimin’s icy glare left no room for any other attempt. His stare was clearly meant to assure Namjoon Jimin knew what was best for him and didn’t want anyone to interfere nor tell him what he should do with his life.

Looking into Jimin’s furious eyes, Namjoon understood he wouldn’t have been able to get anything out of him, not in a million years. So he shook his head and murmured an apology. He placed a hand on Jimin’s shoulder, who eyed him suspiciously.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, smiling. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I won’t ask again. Just do what you think is best, I won’t interfere.”

“I have to go now. Keep up the good work.” Jimin mumbled, lowering his gaze, and quickly exiting the hospital. He only stopped in the parking lot, when he was in his car, safe from any indiscreet eye. A sigh escaped his lips, and he leaned his head back, wiping a thin layer of sweat that had formed on his forehead.

When had he gotten to this point? Why did he always have to hide everything from his friends? He didn’t know why, or when, but it had become a habit for him to ignore his symptoms and do his best to hide them from everyone. He had betrayed himself the last time in the parking lot. That was the first time Namjoon and Yoongi had probably realized the seriousness of his condition. The only one who knew the true extent of his problems was probably Jungkook, who, spending time with him almost 24/7, had witnessed Jimin’s unravelling condition more than anyone else. He had concealed it and dismiss it as nothing serious for a while, but when he began forgetting the medicines and his condition worsened unpredictably, it was clear to Jungkook that something was awfully wrong. The hyungs didn’t know, and he hid it from them; Jungkook knew, but wouldn’t dare asking in fear of Jimin’s reaction. And so he was here, stuck in his lies, asking for help out of the question.

He felt guilty about how he had treated Namjoon. Jimin knew he was simply worried, and just wanted Jimin to be okay, but at the same time, he couldn’t help but react angrily when his friends tried to tell him how to live his life.

Hands trembling and the familiar headache coming back to haunt him again, Jimin gulped down one of the newly bought pills and drove back to Yoongi’s building.

------------------------------

Unbeknownst to Jimin, who had in the meantime accompanied the girl back to her dorm, Yoongi, in his office, received an unexpected call. His last patient for the day had just left his office, and he was busy reorganizing the mess on his desk, when his phone rang.

“Hello?” he tiredly murmured, as he blankly stared at the full agenda in front of him. He laid his head back, closing his eyes.

“Hyung, it’s me, Namjoon.”

Namjoon? It had been a long time since Namjoon had called him. This couldn’t be good news.

“Namjoon-ah? Has something happened to Jungkook?” he immediately asked, scrolling through the chats to see if Jimin had texted him anything about an eventual relapse.

“No hyung, nothing like that, but…”

“Then what is it? Are you okay?”

“I am, but Jimin… there’s something wrong with him.”

Could it be the migraines again? Yoongi flipped through his calendar, going back to the time Jimin had had a crisis in front of the hospital. It hadn’t been that long ago. No more than three weeks, at best.

“What is it?” he impatiently asked.

“Well, I met him today here at the hospital. He bought more medicines… but I’m sure it hasn’t been more than a month since last time. Did you change his prescription? Weren’t they supposed to last up to six months?” Yoongi’s heart dropped. He scrambled through the patient’s folders until he found Jimin’s prescription.

“I changed no shit. That dumb kid is seriously in danger.”

Yoongi was aware of how strong those painkillers were. He had been especially reluctant to prescribe them to Jimin as they had a strong impact on the organism and could easily become addictive.

“W-what do you mean? You mean to tell me you’re still giving him the same painkillers?”

“Yes, and he’s going to kill himself if he doesn’t fucking stop right now. Thank you for letting me know, I’ll call you as soon as I sort this thing out. If he were to come back and ask for more, don’t give him any. Not even a single pill. Even if he begs or anything. Understood?”

“Yes. I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen.”

“Given what you told me, we have to be on alert for a possible drug overdose. Keep an eye on the ambulances coming, I’ll visit him now just to make sure.” Yoongi continued, as he slipped his jacket on.

“Alright. He didn’t look that good when I saw him in the hospital. I think it would be best for him to come get a check-up, just to be sure. Try to convince him.”

“Sure, I’ll do whatever I can. See you later, Nam.”

“Bye hyung.”

Yoongi dialled Jimin’s number, but when his call was instantly redirected to voicemail, he got anxious. He grabbed his keys, and flung himself out of there, straight to his car. It hadn’t been more than two hours since the girl had left his studio, and she had mentioned coming with Jimin. Then, the first place he could have gone to must have been the university, where his home was.

He drove as fast as he could, heart pounding mercilessly. He shouldn’t have prescribed Jimin those stupid meds. He shouldn’t have left Jimin on his own. He should have insisted, forced Jimin to sort his problems out. But who was he to do any of that? Jimin was a grown man. If he didn’t want to get his issues fixed, it was up to him. Yoongi couldn’t force him to do anything.

But at the same time, Jimin was like a little brother to him, and he couldn’t stand seeing him suffer. When Jimin needed help, he had to be there for him, despite how stubborn Jimin had been. Yoongi tried to call Jungkook. The phone rang, but no one was answering.

“Dammit. What is going on? Why isn’t anyone replying?”

He reached the university, but the guard wouldn’t open the gate. He got off the car and approached the man.

“Hello, visits aren’t allowed at this hour.”

“I’m not trying to make any visit or tour. My friends live in here, one’s a teacher and the other one a nurse.” Yoongi replied, impatiently.

“Do you have a pass, sir?”

“I don’t- Listen. I’m a psychologist, and one of my patients might be in need, okay? I have to go in there, just let me park-”

“I can’t let you in there without the pass, sir. There’s a car park over there, then if you fill in this module, we can send it to the administration and you can enter, but the office is closed right now, so…”

“I get it.”

Yoongi got back into his car, drove off and parked his car in the car park the guard had pointed out. He went back to the guard, who extended his arm to give him the module to sign.

“Fuck off.” Yoongi spat, before running towards what he believed to be the building where Jimin’s apartment was. He saw Jimin’s car parked there, so he dashed up the stairs and scanned every door. When he finally found Jimin’s apartment, out of breath and exhausted, he knocked on the door. He knocked again and again until the door swung open in front of him.

He was relieved until his gaze met with Jungkook’s. Why was Jungkook opening the door? He double checked: this was Jimin’s apartment. He stared into Jungkook’s eyes, and his heart skipped a beat. The boy in front of him looked scared, he was trembling. On his cheeks, tears were rolling.

“Y-Yoongi hyung! Jimin is…”

Chapter Text

External POV

Jimin trudged down the corridor that led to his apartment. He was exhausted, the familiar, pounding headache was already coming back to haunt him, not even an hour after taking the meds. He had tried to endure it for as long as possible, but it was quickly worsening: any sound or mere whisper exasperated him, his breath was slightly accelerated, and his pain tolerance had significantly diminished. Stopping for a second in the hallway, Jimin gulped down another pill. If it didn’t ease his symptoms, Jimin thought, it would at least knock him out for some time, a beloved gift after countless sleepless nights.

“Hyung!”

Jimin stopped at the call. Looking up, he saw Jungkook, nervously standing in front of Jimin’s door, waiting for him. At Jimin’s gaze, the younger boy bit his lip, awkward and uneasy. They hadn’t talked to each other in a week, and now that Jungkook had gotten his hyung’s attention, he did not know what to do with it.

“U-um... How did Yin’s session g-go?”

Jimin, who was approaching the door, stopped in his tracks when his vision got blurry. Confused, Jimin blinked a couple of times. When it went back to normal, the boy shook his head, and continued on. The unusual behaviour didn’t go unnoticed. Jungkook stood there, unsure if to ask. But when he saw Jimin wipe a thin layer of sweat from his forehead, he couldn’t resist.

“H-hyung? Is everything... okay?”

Jimin nodded, gesturing to Jungkook to move aside, so he could open the door. His vision went blurry again, as he struggled to slide the key in the lock. Maybe this was just a new symptom of his migraines, and it would quickly disappear as the medicine kicked in. Jungkook had gone quiet, attentively observing Jimin’s every move. He followed him inside the apartment, walking closely behind him, in case a new, worse development would occur.

Jimin sat down on the sofa with a thump, and after taking a deep breath, reopened his eyes. His vision had gone back to normal, and he noticed Jungkook, who was standing in front of him, obviously concerned.

“J-Jungkook? When did you come in?”

The boy frowned.

“What do you mean? I’ve greeted you at the door, I was waiting for you...”

For how much Jimin tried to remember, he couldn’t. Actually, how had he even gotten here? He last remembered being in the hallway, why was he inside? Jimin’s mind had completely blanked out.

“A-anyway... Why are you here? To ask something?” Jimin murmured, rubbing his eyes.

“Well, yes, about Yin’s session… but hyung… is it the migraines? Do you want me to get you something?”

Jimin shook his head.

“Yin didn’t tell me anything about the session itself, but she didn’t run away like you used to do, so I would say it was a success.”

Chills ran down Jimin’s spine. Why was this happening? He got up from the couch, and a strong dizziness immediately flooded his whole body. He sharply inhaled, heavily leaning on the table, until he felt slightly better. When his ears stopped ringing and his senses came back to something similar to a normal state, he walked towards the kitchen, trying not to stumble on anything. Jungkook followed him, alarmed by his state.

“Hyung…”

Jungkook spoke hesitantly. He was genuinely scared, Jimin’s memory lapse was a new, never before seen symptom.

“Hyung, please stop hiding it. What’s wrong?”

But Jimin didn’t answer. He extended a hand towards a glass in the cupboard, which he almost missed. He took a bottle of water out of the fridge and poured some. But to his dismay, he couldn’t stop his hands from shaking, and spilled half of it.

“Hey hey hey what are you doing? Hyung!”

Jimin once again wiped the additional layer of sweat that beaded his forehead. He took the glass with his shaking hand and looked at it for some time. His guts were twisting and turning inside him, and for a second, he wondered whether it was fine to put something in his stomach. He felt so nauseated, he thought he would throw it all up, but still, he downed the small amount of water he had managed to pour in. Ignoring Jungkook as if he hadn’t even been there, (and actually, it was hard for him to notice anything but his excruciating cramps,) he wobbled back towards the living room, leaning on the wall and chairs for much-needed support. If he was sweating before, now he was drenched. His surroundings were moving, or so it seemed to him, becoming a vague and indistinct cluster of random colours and shapes. His whole body radiated a feverish warmth, and the stomach wouldn’t give him a break. He stopped again, next to the table, panting and bent in half, unable to continue walking any longer.

“Seriously hyung, tell me what’s going on! Why are you ignoring me?”

Jungkook placed a firm hand on Jimin’s shoulder in fear he would attempt to wander around once again. When he noticed Jimin was clutching his stomach, Jungkook was hit with a terrible realization. His blood ran cold, and it took him a considerable effort to force words out of his quivering lips. Directly looking into Jimin’s absent eyes, he slowly spoke.

“Hyung. How many did you take?” His voice rang clear and stern. All the awkwardness that might have prevented Jungkook from talking to Jimin had disappeared. He had to know.

Jimin, in between ragged breaths, looked at Jungkook in confusion. His ears were ringing, and nothing made any sense in his head anymore.

“W-what?”

“How many pills hyung. When, and how many?” Despite the stern voice, Jungkook’s eyes revealed the terror that was slowly enclosing his heart in a deathly grip.

“Hyung, answer me!”

But Jimin simply stared at him, his eyes teary. Jungkook looked around, lost. What should he do? What was he supposed to do? Had he been too harsh? Jungkook eased his grip on Jimin’s shoulders, and instead gently rubbed his back.

“Okay, never mind, just calm down, hmm? E-everything’s gonna be alright, just- let’s sit down for a second, okay?”

He helped Jimin sit on a chair and brought him another glass of water. Jimin stared into the void, still gasping for air. His skin had turned a sickly pale white, and he was sweating more and more. Jungkook crouched down in front of him, trying to communicate once again. He placed a hand on Jimin’s shoulder, hoping it would help his hyung to focus on him.

“Hyung. Can you hear me? Do you understand me?”

After some time, Jimin nodded.

“Good. Now please answer this: How many pills did you take?”

Jungkook looked as Jimin tried to focus on what he had said.

“Pills, hyung, the pills for migraines. How many?” He articulated once again.

“T-three… or… f-four…”

Jimin’s voice came out in a feeble whisper, his ragged breath making it harder for him to form any sound.

“Four? Okay. I- I’m calling for help. Just hang in there, hyung…”

He slid the phone out of his pocket, but before he could even dial the number, Jimin anxiously extended his arms towards Jungkook, attempting to get his attention.

“J-J-Jungkook ah-” He whispered, terrified.

With a soft gasp, the boy collapsed on Jungkook, who caught him before he could hit the floor.

“Shit! Jimin hyung!”

Laying in Jungkook’s arms, gasping for air, Jimin slowly closed his eyes, as Jungkook tried to shake him and bring him back to reality. But before Jungkook could even realize it, Jimin had gone unconscious. A shaky breath escaped Jungkook’s lips as he realized what had just happened.

He laid Jimin’s limp body on the ground, and with trembling hands, dialled the ambulance number.

After making sure the boy was still breathing, Jungkook turned him on his side as they had instructed him and waited.

He waited for what seemed like an eternity, thinking back on how many times this had happened to him. He remembered all of it: the terrible stomach cramps, the confusion, the horror, the fear, then everything would go black. That oblivion, the forgetfulness of hanging in a limbo between life and death. He had loved it once, purposefully looked for it. Now however, being on the other side, seeing his hyung there, on the ground, his life on the line because of the same thing, filled his heart with guilt and regret.

To think Jimin had to see him like that, countless times. Jungkook had forced his hyungs to stay by his side, praying for him to be okay, living and reliving that same terror he was experiencing now, knowing he would do it all over again, maybe not even a month later. Jimin, his hyung, his older brother, who had been helping him for his whole life. It was him lying there now, all because of him. As the years had passed, Jungkook had started realizing he would end up killing Jimin someday if he didn’t stop weighing on him so much. And what if that day was today?

Jungkook stood there, bitter tears running down his cheeks as he watched death slowly spread through Jimin’s body. How did it even work? How would the doctors be able to save him? He had no idea, waking up in the hospital extremely weak and with the throat inflamed being his only memories after blacking out every time. Jimin was paler than Jungkook had ever seen him, weakly breathing. What if, before anyone could even get there, the medicines reached his heart, his brain, and-

Jungkook emitted a strangled cry, hands tugging a t his hair, eyes squeezed shut. He couldn’t believe it; he didn’t want to believe it.

They could still save him, right? They had saved Jungkook countless times. Why not Jimin? But what if he hadn’t been quick enough? Why did he wait so long? The signs were all there; he knew, deep down. If he had called sooner, maybe …

At that moment, he realized someone had been knocking on the door. Jungkook sprang to his feet, bolting to the door and swinging it open, only to find Yoongi, breathless, staring back at him.

“Hyung… Jimin is…” At Yoongi’s sight, Jungkook’s eyes filled with new tears.

The older scanned Jungkook’s face. Then he forced him to move aside and stared at the room. On the floor, next to an overthrown chair, laid Jimin, unconscious.

“Fuck!” He crouched down next to the limp body, inspecting him, and searching his pockets for the pills. He found them in the right pocket of his jacket. With flimsy hands, he opened the box, and saw it was empty. In the other pocket, he found a new one, already missing some pills. When he heard Jungkook approaching, he turned around, pills still in his hands.

“Kook. How many did he take? Do you know?”

“Quit crying. Tell me everything you know.” He added, stern.

Jungkook wiped his tears, still sobbing.

“He said he took four… b-but I don’t know, he might have taken more… H-he’s been having more migraines recently…”

“How many?”

“From like… five to six times a week?” Jungkook murmured, innocent eyes looking at Yoongi.

“What? Why the heck didn’t he tell me?”

“I’m sorry… I didn’t know I should have…”

With trembling hands, Yoongi placed his ear on Jimin’s chest. He sighed in relief when he felt Jimin’s heart still beating, although it was faint. Looking up again, he noticed Jungkook was crying again.

“Cut it, Kook. Do you think your regrets will save him?”

Jungkook bit his lip, wiping once again his flushed cheeks.

“Did you call an ambulance?”

“Ah, y-yes! They should come soon…”

Just as he spoke, a siren was heard. Yoongi pushed his hair back and turned towards Jimin.

“Good. We should be able to save him. Kook, help me carry him to the door. Let’s make this as quick as possible.”

And so, Jimin was laid on a stretcher, and carried to the hospital.

Jungkook and Yoongi were allowed into the ambulance, and for the first time, Jungkook saw what those first minutes of peaceful oblivion looked like, from the other side. Remorse spread through his trembling body, and he lowered his head, trying to block out everything that was happening. He didn’t want to know; he didn’t want to see Jimin like this, he just wanted it all to be over.

“Jungkook.”

He slowly looked up, just to see Yoongi’s expressionless face looking straight forward, towards Jimin and the doctors who frenetically worked around him.

“Don’t look away, Jungkook. You have to see it all. See to what horrible extent you destroyed your body in the past. Look and never forget what you experienced tonight.”

Tears burned permanent tracks on Jungkook’s cheeks, as he watched the doctors fumble with tubes and instruments to save Jimin’s life. By the time they got to the ER, Jungkook was exhausted, and with no tears left to cry. He stubbornly clung onto the stretcher, eyes never leaving Jimin’s pale face.

Before he could even process it, Yoongi was holding him back, and the stretcher had disappeared behind a sliding door.

“J-Jimin hyung...”

“Enough Kook... we have to leave Jimin to the doctors. He’s in good hands now.”

Staring at the closed doors, Jungkook finally collapsed on his knees, trembling. Yoongi was quickly by his side, rubbing his back in soothing circles. Jungkook broke down in sobs, and Yoongi realized how hard he had been on the boy.

“Hey... let’s get you some water, okay? Why don’t we sit over there for a second? You’ll feel better, I promise.”

He got a chair for the boy, and when he had finally calmed down a bit, Yoongi resolved to speak.

“Listen… I was… a bit too harsh on you today. I’m sorry. I was scared for Jimin’s life and didn’t realize how I was treating you. You actually… reacted very well. You… called an ambulance and could even tell me about how many pills Jimin had ingested. You really did great.”

Jungkook nodded, wiping his flushed nose. He wanted to smile, but he felt like he had been robbed of the ability to do so. Jungkook still looked tense, and Yoongi wondered how he had managed not to have a panic attack in those conditions.

“Did you know about the overdose?”

Jungkook shrugged. “I imagined it… I recognized the symptoms, and I had seen him take those pills so many times…”

Jungkook’s eyes darkened again, as he thought about what had happened.

“Kook.”

The boy looked up at his hyung’s call.

“Relax. He’s probably gonna be fine. You reacted quickly, and- I’ve seen you… arriving at the hospital worse than that and surviving. Don’t worry too much.”

Jungkook nodded, leaning back on the chair. Despite Yoongi wanting to offer as much comfort as he could, he also wanted some messages to get across. He patted Jungkook’s back.

“But Kook… although I might have been harsh on you, there’s something I don’t want you to forget. What you felt tonight with Jimin, even what you felt… with Junghyun… every time you tried to kill yourself, be it accidentally or intentionally… that’s how we felt. Countless times, we feared and prayed, we cried… especially Jimin.”

Jungkook nodded, biting his lip.

“I’m not trying to say it’s your fault or anything like that. I’m just trying to make you understand that Jimin’s in this state because he gave his life up for you. He could have helped you without doing so, but… you know Jimin. There are no shades of grey when it comes to him. It’s either black or white, and he chose you over him.”

Yoongi took a sip of water, eyes meticulously following the gaps in the tiled floor of the ER.

“It’s his choice, that’s true. But if you want to help him out in any way… that will be by learning to live on your own. What I mean is you have to get over this past of yours, and if you can’t, learn to manage it. You did a lot of progress in the past weeks, and if you continue like this… you might be able to set Jimin free.”

Jungkook listened closely.

“Yin. You met her today, right?” the boy murmured, suddenly, after a long pause.

“Yes, I did. What do you want to know?”

“Nothing. If I get to know something about her past, I want her to be the one to tell me. Just…”

“Just what?” insisted Yoongi.

“Is she okay? I mean… is she gonna be fine… eventually?”

Yoongi shrugged. “That’s up to her. But she is strong, if she really puts her mind to it, and with the right support, she should be able to get better.”

“Now relax, we’ll wait for Namjoon-ah to tell us something about Jimin.”

Jungkook nodded and sat up straight, in silence. Yoongi observed the boy. Once in a while, a dark shade of pink would set his cheeks on fire. He smirked. That boy was so innocent and obvious.

Jungkook had dozed off on Yoongi’s shoulder and was drooling all over his shirt when Namjoon walked towards them. The older man shook Jungkook, who jumped up when he saw Namjoon standing in front of them. His mind was still hazy with sleep, but his heart was pounding, scared for Jimin’s sake. He was so nervous that in no time he was wide awake. Yoongi, although he wouldn’t show it, was slightly nervous too. He got up and reached the two boys to hear about Jimin’s condition.

“How’s Jimin? He’s alive, isn’t he? Please tell me he’s gonna be okay!”

“Let him speak, Kook.” Yoongi intimated, placing a comforting hand on the boy’s shoulder. Jungkook lowered his eyes and stood quiet, waiting for Namjoon to speak.

“He’s… out of danger.”

Jungkook’s eyes filled with tears of relief, but still he stood quiet, waiting for the full verdict.

“He needed a gastric lavage. Just as Jungkook had told the doctors, Jimin has overdosed, but his life is safe now. We’ll keep him sedated for some days, as his body has accumulated a toxic amount of substances, and he will need a bit of time to work it all off.”

Finally, Jungkook’s heart could beat normally. All the nervousness and fear, which had accompanied him even in his uneasy sleep, left him all at once. His legs trembled, and if it hadn’t been for Yoongi, Jungkook would have fallen onto the ground.

“Jimin will be fine. Both of you, take a break.”

“Okay. You too Nam, thank you, for everything.”

Namjoon smiled. “I’ll let you know if there are significant developments.”

And so Namjoon went back to his work.

“Kook… can you walk?”

“Huh? Ah, yes… s-sorry. I just… I’m really glad Jimin’s fine.” He wiped his eyes.

Although all the adrenaline had left his body, Jungkook felt refreshed and happy, now that he knew Jimin was okay.

They sat back in the chairs. Yoongi wanted to make sure Jungkook wouldn’t suddenly break down in tears. Seeing how Jungkook was still staring at the corridor Jimin had earlier disappeared into, he patted his shoulder.

“Kook, about Yin… I thought about something that might help you two…”

Jungkook’s cheeks were flushed with light pink.

“D-do you think seeing her… could help me get better?”

Yoongi smiled, the colour of Jungkook’s cheeks hadn’t gone unnoticed.

“Do you remember what I told you the last time you were here?”

Jungkook nodded. “That I shouldn’t run away, nor hide.”

“Then go see her. Cook lunch for her, eat with her.”

“W-w-what??” Jungkook gasped, eyes wide.

Yoongi arched an eyebrow

“Why? Wasn’t that what you asked me?” he chuckled.

“Y-yeah b-but… what if that triggers me again?”

“Listen here Kook…” Yoongi placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “… Jimin’s surely going to be in the hospital for a bit, and the girl has to eat… right?”

“Oh… that’s right. I hadn’t thought about it.”

“Do you want to get better, Kook?”

“Of course…”

“Then do as I say. Just try. If it’s too much, then I’ll take over. I’m just asking you to try.”

Jungkook didn’t look that eager at the idea. Despite that, he forced himself to nod.

Yoongi smiled, then laid his head back and yawned.

“Hyung, go home now. I’m fine, so why don’t you go rest? Jimin won’t be awake for a couple of days, and you have to work tomorrow.”

Yoongi arched an eyebrow. “And what about you?”

Jungkook thought about it. “Well, I’ll stay and wait for-”

Yoongi shook his head. “If Jimin isn’t waking up then why should you stay? You have to work too.”

Yoongi looked around.

“Staying in this place won’t make you any good. Go home, Kook. Nam will call us if there’s news. Go home and do something to distract yourself, or sleep. Don’t think about this stuff even for a second.”

“But-”

“No buts. Do you realize why Jimin’s here?”

Jungkook gulped.

“Because of me…”

“Stop thinking everything’s your fault. I have told you countless times already. Regret solves nothing.”

Yoongi looked straight into Jungkook’s eyes.

“He’s here because he cared for you, of course, but not because of you. It’s his own fault if he’s in here. He refused to acknowledge his problem and tried to tape it up with painkillers. He ignored his body’s signals and refused to rest, to get help. If you want to help Jimin, then you have to help yourself first, or you’ll end up like him, again.”

Jungkook stood silent, still hesitant to leave Jimin. He hated the idea of Jimin waking up alone in that cold room, without him.

“Go home Kook, go home, and take all the rest you need. You’re not alone in this, so don’t burden yourself with more than you can handle. You have people around you; you need to trust them.”

Yoongi patted Jungkook’s shoulder, making him flinch.

“Come on, Jimin isn’t gonna feel alone while he’s unconscious. This is part of our sessions: I can’t force you, but I strongly recommend you not to come visit him before he wakes up. It’s useless for both of you.”

Jungkook smiled.

“You’re… right, hyung. I’ll go home then.”

And so, they left, and both went home, to rest, for once.

-----------------------------------

But when Jungkook arrived home, he found he had too many thoughts spinning in his head. He couldn’t sleep and had also started to develop a headache. He couldn’t get his mind off Jimin, and his apartment, which was pretty similar to Jimin’s, reminded him of what had happened. He paced restlessly back and forth. With his stomach grumbling, Jungkook opened the fridge, which, to his dismay, was empty. He sighed.

He also had to figure out what to cook for the girl, since Jimin wouldn’t be able to eat with her. He searched for simple recipes, and when he finally found one, he made a list of all the necessary ingredients, hoping he could make it. At least, he had found something to do. He slid his jacket on, got his keys and left.

Jungkook strolled down the aisles, chewing a gum, placing groceries in his bag. “Ramen… ramen… where are you?” he murmured to himself as he scanned the countless products. Focused on the complicated chore of hunting down his favourite food and the ingredients for the soup, Jungkook had momentarily forgotten all about Jimin’s condition, and was the most relaxed he had ever been in a long time.

Taking a walk to the grocery store had resulted in being a winning strategy, the fresh air dissipating his throbbing headache. Eyebrows knitted together, Jungkook enjoyed his brief trip, deciding that, for once, he would spoil himself with all his favourite snacks. One of the benefits of being an adult, he thought, smiling to himself, was being able to buy whatever he wanted. Nobody would tell him he couldn’t because it was unhealthy or something, and he had the money to buy it.

“J-Jungkook?”

A voice called him. It was deep, almost intimidating. He was sure he had never heard it before. Still, there was something familiar in the way the stranger had said his name.

Startled, Jungkook immediately turned around. His eyes were met with a man, tall and handsome. He scanned the figure from head to toe: he was well dressed, black pants and shirt, with an elegant coat on top of it. It looked like the man had studied abroad, although he was Korean for sure. He stood out next to the people that passed by daily in that convenience store. Black, thick hair framed his sharp jaw. Again, there was something familiar about him, but he couldn’t exactly pinpoint what it was.

The man’s lips curved in a tender smile. “Yeah, it’s you. You’ve grown up so much, Jungkookie.”

Chapter Text

External POV

The younger boy stood there, wide-eyed, as he confusedly tried to piece everything together. Should he remember? When had he met this person before? Indeed, he now realized that the oblivion of meds and alcohol had robbed him of whatever could be left of his life.

Was he someone who he had met in those terrible years of forgetfulness? Was he someone from his blurred past? The memories were there, sure, but they were buried deep, under a thick layer of pain and numbness.

Then the realization hit him. His trembling fingers let the groceries bag drop on the floor. The loud pounding of his heart being the only thing his ears could hear, Jungkook moved a step forward.

“H-hyung?”

As he pronounced those words, his eyes glimmered with unshed tears, which threatened to spill at any moment. The man smiled again, a quiver in his voice as he spoke.

“Yes, it’s me, Taehyung.”

That name. A name lost in the years of his youth, when life was just sprouting, and the sea glimmered with the sun’s warm rays. As if a dam had been broken, blurred memories of the past came back into focus, more vivid than ever. Smells and voices of the past, that had been left in the dust for years. The salty smell of the sea, of freshly baked bread, and merry laughter flooded his heart. It was then that a tear escaped his reddened eyes, slowly making his way down to his cheeks. Many more, one after another, dropped from his now wet chin as he flung himself at Taehyung, clinging to him like a child who hugs his parents after being lost.

Tears of joy, grief, relief: they all mixed in that desperate cry, and Jungkook relentlessly sobbed against Taehyung’s chest. At the sight of such a moving encounter, Taehyung too, although much more composed, had let a tear wet his cheek, and he tightly embraced Jungkook, not willing to let him go, ever again.

After interminable moments of sweet joy, Taehyung reluctantly loosened his grip, quickly wiping his tears. Jungkook stared at him with awe with his big doe-like eyes, utterly amazed and confused, filled to the brim with questions that continuously popped up in his mind.

At the sight of his long-lost hyung, all the composure he had worked so hard to achieve had melted, leaving his soul bare and sensitive like an exposed bundle of nerves. Trembling, Jungkook avoided his hyung’s gaze, attempting to pull himself together. He tried, but to no avail: every time he forced himself to stop, he would end up sobbing even more. Taehyung stared at him, unsure of what to do, tenderness propagating through his soul at the mere sight of his friend.

He had grown so much; he was a man, strong and beautiful. In his face, now barely visible because he kept looking down, he could still see the 17-year-old boy he had seen for the last time; but he was all grown up now. Everything about him was perfect, as if a sculptor had slowly carved out of him his true figure, only merely imaginable back then. But despite he could tell Jungkook had changed, there he was, still sobbing like a child, wearing his heart on his sleeve, easy to read like an open book.

“Time can’t change you completely,” he tenderly thought, as he crouched down to pick up the bag Jungkook had let fall to the floor. As Jungkook finally calmed down, Taehyung felt a fatherly pride grow in him, looking at the friend he had for so long wished to meet again.

Silence grew thick between them, and doubts started popping up in Taehyung’s mind. Restless and tense, he eyed Jungkook, who still wouldn’t dare to look up, fiddling with his shirt.

“Um... d-do you maybe want to go for a walk?”

Taehyung was relieved, when, with a shy smile, Jungkook nodded. The boy took the bag from Taehyung’s hands, pulled up his face mask and wiped his puffy eyes. He took deep breaths and then walked towards the counter. Again, Taehyung was shaken by sudden pride as he watched Jungkook handing a credit card to the cashier. When had all this happened? He wondered. When had Jungkook become a man? Just at what point, while he was away, had he grown up this much?

Remorse hit him. He should have been there and helped him out. But maybe, Jungkook didn’t need him. He had grown up well, even without him around. Still, he selfishly wished he could have been there, growing and seeing him grow, celebrating his achievements with him and the guys, cherishing every little thing.

If only he hadn’t run away… but he was a stupid child back then, nothing more. He had been so foolish, thinking he had to defend some sort of pride, and just because of a fight, he had left. It would have been easy to come back at first, weren’t it for his stubbornness. But as the years had passed, and he had changed, his pettiness and anger had melted away. When he finally realized how stupid he had been though, it was already too late. He didn’t have any of his friends’ phone numbers anymore. In a night full of anger and regret, he had deleted them, and was left without a way to contact them. He could have gone back to find them, yes, but he had started believing they wouldn’t have wanted to have anything to do with him, a betrayer that had abandoned them in the hardest times. He had travelled much, trying to run away from his guilt, even attempting to build a life abroad, away from his past.

But he had found nothing.

Only loneliness, petty people, lavish lifestyles that only offered him temporary comfort. Whatever he did, late at night, alone in his empty attic, looking at the busy streets of New York, he felt empty. And when he finally found the courage to admit to himself that there was nothing for him to find out there, he did the only thing he had ever known: he ran away. He packed light, just two or three outfits and a bunch of pictures he had jealously kept from the times he lived in Busan.

Without telling it to anyone, (not that there were many people he could trust around him) he booked a flight to South Korea. Out of the window, as the clock hit 0:00, he saw the busy streets filled with cars get smaller and smaller. The landscape he had learned to both hate and love, which had been the only companion of his regretful tears, was quickly hidden behind silver clouds. With the moon as the only witness, Taehyung shed his last tear in New York, as he said goodbye to a place, he swore he would never come back to.

He had landed a month prior to meeting Jungkook, with no goal or clear idea of what to do now that he was in Korea. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized he just wanted to find something of his old self. He had desired that for days on end, although too scared to admit it. The feeling of belonging, being someone for somebody else. “Only once, just for a second,” he thought. He wanted to feel like himself once again.

“I can’t find myself anymore in this maze of masks and mirrors. I don’t know who I am, or who I’m supposed to be.”

An anonymous life, that was what he had hoped for when he left his country. But the loneliness that was waiting for him in those big, bustling cities had become unbearable.

If, when he looked at himself in the mirror, he couldn’t see himself, if he didn’t know who he was, he had to see himself in someone else’s eyes. He had tried to look for that in the new friends in New York. But every time he looked at them in the eyes, he could only see a wry, new image of himself. His features were distorted, ruined by their own greed and selfishness. That wasn’t him. He was putting on a mask, indeed. After having seen those people’s true colours, he refused to show them his real persona. What would those people have done with him? Into what monster would they have turned him? He still had no idea who he was, but he was sure he had no intention to hand any part of his soul to those shallow manipulators. He shut off, cut all connection with them, locked himself up in his attic. He couldn’t trust this world. He couldn’t lean on anybody here.

If not here, where? Who would be able to help him?

It was then, that in his subconscious he had realized it: where, if not where it all had begun? Who, if not them?

Who could hand him back his identity, his true colours, if not those guys?

He had to go back, back where he had abandoned his friends, and with them, himself too.

And it was so, that Taehyung found himself wandering around the city, searching for his long-lost friends, for reasons he still did not fully comprehend. He had no idea where they were. For what he knew, they could still be living in Busan.

Without a specific reason though, he had headed for Seoul instead. He had departed, hopeful to find himself again. But the first night in Seoul, looking at the city from his hotel room, he understood nothing had changed; the moon was the same he had seen in New York, the lights, and skyscrapers too.

The loneliness in his heart had grown exponentially, and he was uneasy, and unable to rest. Deep in his heart, he still feared the confrontation with his past mistakes, he still felt like a child scared to accept the consequences.

What had he come searching for?

Escaping had brought him back to the starting point: it turned out, he really couldn’t escape from his demons. Even if, by chance, he met one of them, what would he do then?

He decided that if that were to happen, he’d better just make sure they were okay and silently leave, without bothering them. It was when he walked down the busy streets of Seoul that he realized it for the first time: here, more than ever, he was alone, a ghost invisible to everyone, a stranger. He desired to be saved and brought back to life, but did he really deserve it?

After ditching their friends when life got hard, after abandoning them and becoming mildly successful abroad... After everything he had done to them, why would they want to see him in the first place? And why would they need his help? They must surely have put their own life back together, unlike him. If there was someone who needed help was him, but he had no right to ask for it.

He had wandered aimlessly for days, scanning, without realizing, the face of everyone that would pass him by, hoping to recognize some traits of his old friends.

Sometimes, sitting in a café, restlessly peering out of the big windows in search of something, or someone, he would laugh at himself, the bitter taste of the coffee echoing in the loneliness of his soul, disgustingly lingering in his heart.

“What am I hoping for?”

He would tell himself.

“The only thing I have of them is my memories of eight years ago. Even if they were in Seoul, which is unlikely, how would I recognize them? And what would be the point? I’m just a fool…”

But still, as he coldly scolded himself, his eyes would refuse to cease their tiring job, continuously scanning every person, almost as if he were to look away even for a mere second, he would lose his chance of seeing his friends.

When he walked into the grocery store, he had just made an important decision. A month of nervous waiting, of exhausting anticipation of something that was probably not going to ever happen. He was tired of it, tired of the guilt, tired of his heart stopping every time he thought he had seen someone who resembled his old friends. An entire month running after blurry shadows of the past. His extenuating search had slowly destroyed him, shattered his sanity into pieces. At every voice that reminded him of his friends, at every word spoken with the characteristic Busan satoori he trembled and sweated. He had to leave South Korea and never come back. There was nothing for him there: he had seen so many strangers’ faces, heard so many words, he was truly going crazy. The sound of the language had become dull to him; even the familiar taste of food made him want to throw up. He didn’t even look at himself in the mirror anymore. He barely slept and wanted to forget everything once and for all.

That night, he was wandering alongside the Han River, hidden in the comforting darkness, where nobody could see him, and he would see no faces. He walked and walked until his feet were sore. He got to a bridge, and he sat down on it, staring down at the murky water under him, running fast towards the unknown sea.

“Would anyone care if I...”

He suddenly thought.

“Would anyone even notice it?”

The waters were dark and deep, and the low murmuring of the river lured him with its tempting lullaby.

“To the sea... to the sea” it chanted with a mellow tone.

“To the past, to the happy days...”

“To your youth, where the shadows can’t reach you...”

“To your loved ones, in that place frozen in time...”

“To that paradise, the white haven that will set your shattered heart free...”

Tears glimmered in his eyes as he stood up.

“To the sea... to the sea...”

The river whispered again, extending its arms towards him. And he reached for them, slowly walking towards the edge, until his hands were met with the iron railing.

He stopped to think for a second. There wasn’t any place he could escape to now. Everywhere, it would be the same. If he couldn’t do anything, then why not? Why not follow the sweet melody to the sea? Why not let this life of misery go, and flee back to his past?

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He leaned on the railing, listening to the water’s increased murmur, a low cheer, a family waiting for him.

But when he was about to do it, he heard some steps coming closer and closer.

He froze, opening his eyes, as a young man wearing a black mask over his nose passed him by, head low, shyly bowing. Confused, he stared as the man walked into a convenience store, making the bell attached to the door ring. He looked at the water again, and heard it lowly whisper, hushed, almost imperceptible.

He walked away, towards the convenience store. He hadn’t changed his mind. He would come back to that river and let himself get lured by it. But first, he wanted to see that store, experience the simple everyday life for the last time before leaving everything behind him for the last time. It was a goodbye, an unexpected and melancholic farewell, his last salute to this land that had offered him much in the blurry years of his youth.

He walked through the aisles, not even looking at the few people that were inside. He wasn’t thinking about anything. He read the names of the snacks that once were his favourites and smiled at the fond memories. After scanning every corner of the small store, he sighed. It was time to leave, forever.

But when he was already at the door, he heard a voice. Familiar, with the characteristic Busan satoori.

His heart quivered. He was sure. There was no way he was wrong. Although it sounded more mature, he was sure it was him. The tiny inflections, the way he chanted the words in a mere whisper, his cute way of talking to the things he was looking for. He followed the voice in the tiny store, cursing at those aisles that were hiding him, that were keeping him from finding the boy. And then, he saw him.

Crouched down, his finger running past the packs of instant noodles as he murmured lowly to himself, his attentive doe eyes scanning everything, squinting to read the labels. Under the thick glasses, his eyes shone of the same light of many years ago. It was him. His lips were curled in a pout, casting a shadow over his so recognizable tiny mole under his lower lip. Taehyung was petrified. His mind had gone blank. It was the man who had passed him by on the bridge.

“You’ve seen him! He’s fine! Now leave before he sees you!” a tiny voice screamed in his head. But he was too shocked, too confused, too scared even to listen. Moving on its own accord, his lips moved, and called his name. The boy turned around and looked at him. It had come. The moment he had imagined so many times had finally come. And he was unprepared, totally unprepared. He trembled under the boy’s gaze as he didn’t seem to recognize him.

When Jungkook said that name, when he said “hyung,” something snapped inside him. All the pain, relief, fear, love, it all poured out in that tight embrace he wished could never end. He knew it. Now he had seen Jungkook, now that he had met him, there was no way he could run away. He was a fool. He had made the worst decision he could have made.

He would stay.

Trapped in this world.

In his hell.

Chapter Text

External POV

When Jungkook had paid, they walked out of the grocery store, enjoying the chilly breeze that danced all around them. Jungkook had tons of questions to ask, lots of things to say, but did not know where to start.

They walked for a bit, in silence, the murmur of the river being their only companion. They felt uneasy, the warmth of the initial hug nowhere to be seen, replaced by awkwardness. Yes, they had known each other for years, but eight years of separation had turned them into complete strangers, to the point that they almost hadn’t been able to recognize each other.

Job, habits, passions... there was nothing they knew about each other anymore. What they remembered from the foggy past was the only information they had. It was like they had stopped in time, and now, seeing each other, so different and unrecognizable, was odd and confusing. The younger nervously eyed his hyung, intimidated by his elegance and apparent composure. A man so mature, calm, serious. He was nothing like the weird alien Jungkook had gotten to know as “Tae.”

“What did you expect?” he thought. “Did you think he would be the same as eight years ago? People grow, stupid.”

Nostalgy flooded his heart. He didn’t know this “new” Taehyung, but his sudden appearance had uncovered old, fond memories he had buried away so long ago. That cheerful, carefree kid that had been one of his closest friends for years, when years still felt like unexplored centuries, and, at the same time, flew by in mere seconds. Now, years were simply a dull date on a calendar. They had quietly piled on, anonymous, all the same; and before Jungkook could realise it, he was 25.

This year had been different: he had met Yin for the first time, and she had showed him a new way to see life. But, despite everything that had happened, he still felt the same. Yes, everyone had changed, life had continued for everyone around him.

The years had come and passed, one after another.

And still, he felt the same.

He would take a step forward, even two sometimes. And then, the heavy chain around his ankle brought him back. He couldn’t move. Progress and relapses, progress, and relapses, and so on. In eight years, what had he learned? What tangible progress had he made? He just felt exhausted. More than ever. He desperately wanted to get better, but he didn’t know how.

“So...” Taehyung murmured.

His words shook Jungkook from his thoughts. The younger boy took a deep breath.

“So...”

Jungkook’s stomach grumbled. The boy, embarrassed, avoided his hyung’s inquisitive glance. Taehyung was sure that under that black mask, he was blushing.

“Have you eaten yet?”

“Um… n-no.”

“Me neither. W-want to grab a bite?”

Jungkook nodded. When Taehyung saw his eyes, he noticed they were glistening. If he was happy or sad, he couldn’t tell.

“I’ve bought some stuff, we could eat this, and… oh, wait!”

Taehyung looked in confusion as Jungkook awkwardly handed him his groceries and left, running towards a street food stall. He pulled down his mask, wiping his wet cheeks. He came back with steaming waffles in his hands, and a wide smile on his lips.

“These are for later,” he giggled.

Taehyung stared at the boy in awe: he still couldn’t believe that man was his Jungkook. But that smile, that was his old smile. He had changed in appearance, of course, but all the tiny gestures and habits were still the same.

“Hyung, let’s go sit there.” He pointed at a spot right in front of the river and walked towards a bench. He turned around and waved, signaling to Taehyung to come.

“Hyung...?”

Jungkook placed a hand on his shoulder, and he flinched.

“E-everything okay?”

Taehyung’s eyes lingered on the river for a second, before he glanced back at the worried boy.

“O-oh yes, sorry. I’m good.” He smiled and forced his legs to follow Jungkook.

When Taehyung handed the boy his grocery bags, Jungkook started rummaging in them.

“I have some instant ramen… but I don’t have hot water with me… Ah! Wait, I have this. It’s not that healthy, but… it’s a good snack. We could have ramen in my apartment later.”

“Your apartment?”

“Yes! I’ll show you if you want. Let’s eat this for now, I’m hungry.”

Jungkook was about to take a bite when he looked at Taehyung, the snack still in his hands, staring at the river in front of him.

“Hyung?”

Taehyung emptily looked at him, lost. It seemed to him that the river had begun whispering once again. It was low, but more aggressive than before.

“I...” Jungkook tried to come up with something to distract Taehyung from whatever was troubling him.

“I forgot to ask you. The snack... I remember you liked that, but do you still like it? I can get you something else if…”

Taehyung looked down at the snack in his hands.

“It’s been years since I’ve eaten it…” Taehyung took a bite and immediately smiled. “I missed this.”

“I’m glad you like it. I’m sorry, usually people our age drink soju or something, but I don’t have any… as I don’t… really like being around alcohol.” Jungkook murmured, going quiet. It seemed to Taehyung that he had caught a flash of sadness in Jungkook’s eyes.

“That’s okay, I don’t really like it either. But what about you, Jungkookie?”

“Huh? About what?”

“How have you been in the past years?”

Jungkook’s doe eyes filled with melancholy. Taehyung wondered if he shouldn’t have asked.

“Um... I’ve had my ups and downs. I’m mostly fine, but I’ve had… well, let’s just say… I haven’t really gotten over my brother’s… yeah.”

So, he still suffered because of that. Seeing him so grown up had made him wonder if he could have possibly left his past behind forever. Jungkook cleared his throat and ignored the lump that was forming in his throat. He pursed his lips and took a deep breath. He chuckled nervously, closing his eyes.

“… But let’s not talk about this. What about you? What have you been up to?” Jungkook continued.

Taehyung munched on his snack.

“I’ve been lonely as hell” was what Taehyung would have liked to say. Instead, he remained on more general terms.

“Well, I’ve travelled much. I left the country about five or six years ago and visited many places. I’ve lived in Paris for some time, and up to last month, I’ve been living in New York.”

“Paris? New York? Wow hyung, really? That’s really amazing! And… what kind of job do you do to have money to travel around like that?”

“I’ve worked as a stylist for some years. I was getting a good amount of recognition, but as I grew in popularity, I got asked to make more extravagant and weird clothes, you know, for the most famous brands.”

“... I’ve always liked simple clothes. Those fancy, flamboyant costumes didn’t really suit my style and ideas at all. So, I left the industry.”

“Wow… That’s why you dress so nicely... And after that? You left the clothes industry but then?”

“I spent days on end crying in my apartment,” he thought.

He shrugged, staring into the distance.

“I paint, sometimes... and interior design also seems fascinating to me, but I mostly live off my income from my previous job.”

Jungkook sighed. “What a successful career, hyung. I mean, I’ve always known you were going to become someone big, but to have achieved this much at your age... I’m amazed, really.”

Taehyung shook his head.

“And now you’ve decided to come back?”

Taehyung smiled. “I couldn’t stand the people anymore. Life there was...”

He stopped mid-sentence, his voice quivering. What was he saying? He couldn’t burden Jungkook with his problems, could he? What right did he have?

“But what about you Kook?”

Jungkook scratched his head. “Well… I’ve become a teacher at the Liberal Arts Seoul University. I teach Literature.”

“A university professor? Who could have imagined that? Mr. Jeon Jungkook, literature teacher…” Taehyung chuckled, and extended a hand towards the boy, ruffling his hair like he used to do.

His smile faded, and he retracted his hand.

“Hyung? What’s wrong?”

Taehyung sighed, looking towards the river.

How could he do this to Jungkook? He had run away like a coward. Why wasn’t the boy angry at him?

“I...”

Taehyung bit his lip. The river whispered lowly, once again. But this time, its dark claws couldn’t reach him: a gust of wind dissolved the shadows, and in an instant, the gloomy cry dissipated into a mere whisper of the past.

“It’s… nothing.”

Taehyung shivered.

“A-are you cold? We can go to my apartment… I’m still hungry after all…”

Taehyung hesitated for a second, wondering if he could really accept that offer. If he accepted now, he was aware he wouldn’t be able to let go ever again. The more time he spent with Jungkook, the more his plan to abandon this world crumbled to bits.

Taehyung glanced towards the river once again. Was this the right thing to do? Could he really do this to Jungkook again?

“Hyung… a-are you leaving soon? Do you plan on staying in Korea or…”

Jungkook bit his lip.

“I mean… maybe it’s better if we don’t see each other anymore. I’ve disturbed you enough. I wouldn’t… want to drag you into this… hell.”

Taehyung’s heart ached at those words. Now that he was faced with the possibility of not seeing Jungkook ever again, he realized how much he wanted to stay by his side, despite all the pain. But was this what Jungkook wanted? Did he want him to leave forever? Doubt insinuating in his heart, Taehyung searched for Jungkook’s eyes, and when his gaze met with them, he saw they were teary with resignation. Maybe that was the right thing to do. Leave, never see him again, don’t open painful wounds of the past. He wouldn’t have asked for Jungkook’s number, would have cast all his memories in oblivion, he would have let himself fall in the murky water-

“No!” Taehyung yelled, startling Jungkook. A tear rolled down his cheek as he searched for an explanation in Taehyung’s eyes.

The older man lowered his eyes.

“I-I mean…” he stuttered.

He had to make a choice, now. He took a deep breath.

“What I meant is…”

“I...”

“I’m not planning to leave anytime soon. I’m searching for an apartment to live in, here in Seoul…”

“… And I’m hungry too. I would like to eat something… if you don’t mind, of course…”

Jungkook’s lips curved into a wide smile. He wiped his eyes, gleaming with hope, and nodded.

“Yeah, of course, I d-don’t mind at all!”

“Then… let’s go.”

“Yeah.”

They walked back to the campus, in silence. Jungkook led the way, proudly marching down the hallway, his heart furiously dancing to the hope that he had found a lost friend, and maybe he was going to stay for good. As Taehyung followed Jungkook’s excited steps, he curiously looked around, scanning every door, every light. Jungkook stopped in front of a door and inserted the key. But another door, quite like Jungkook’s, right next to it, had caught Taehyung’s attention. He stood, stunned, staring at the name written on the doorbell:

Park Jimin.

He had been too scared to ask anything about the others’ whereabouts, but his interest in that door hadn’t gone unnoticed. The cheerful grin Jungkook had been sporting on his lips down the hallway faded in a feeble half-smile. A new feeling flooded his heart. It had the taste of pity, and mournful resignation.

“Jimin lives next to me. He’s a nurse now and works in the school.”

Taehyung frowned. “Wait. He hasn’t become a dancer?”

A glint of melancholy appeared in Jungkook’s eyes, as he walked inside the apartment.

“He gave up his dreams to take care of my stupid ass. I wish he hadn’t though, as I’m always stuck here, and he’s ruined his health.”

Jungkook peered out of the door.

“Hyung? Are you coming in?”

The man snapped out of his thoughts and walked in, looking around. The apartment wasn’t big, but it was spacious enough to fit everything one could need. The entrance opened onto the living room, with a large comfy sofa and a dining table. The kitchen was rather small, confined to a recess in a wall, and had no wall to divide it from the other rooms.

Jungkook set the table and turned the stove on. From where he was standing, Taehyung could see a door, which probably led to the bedroom. He couldn’t help but compare the cosy and homely vibes of the room he was in to the empty, large attic he had been living in for years. Anonymous and cold. Now, looking at the tiny details and ingenious ways in which Jungkook had furnished his place, it sparked in him the wish to have an apartment; not just a space, but something he could call his own, that he could remember as “home.” His characteristic style, details that would make people say: this is surely Taehyung’s home. Yes, Taehyung. That was who he was: and he had to get his life back. Kim Taehyung, not the nameless nobody he had lived as for years.

“Oh, have a seat, hyung!”

“Do you like banana milk? I’m sorry, I don’t have much more to drink.”

“O-oh, water is fine, thank you.”

Jungkook flopped on the sofa, sighing. Taehyung sat next to him. Looking at Taehyung’s eyes, he saw in them the unasked question. He had tried his best to distract Taehyung, but he knew, better than anyone else, how it sucked to wait for answers no one had the courage to talk about.

“Not even three hours ago, Jimin has been admitted to the hospital. He collapsed in my arms because of a painkiller overdose. They…”

Jungkook took another deep breath, desperately waiting for his composure to come back.

“He’s undergone a gastric lavage. The doctors have sedated him now, and he should be okay, I hope.”

Taehyung forgot how to breathe for a split second.

“H-how? Painkillers? W-why?”

Jungkook handed him a glass of water.

“Hyung… if you plan on staying here… and getting involved in this mess… you’d better get used to this…”

Taehyung looked at Jungkook, befuddled. The younger man gloomily smiled.

“He took care of me 24/7. He had to help me out in my past, even when I… did really bad stuff. I recently relapsed too… with seizures and panic attacks, and… Jimin’s been with me through it all. He worked so much that he developed chronic migraines. He kept them at bay for some time thanks to the painkillers. But… I think he’s gotten too used to them and abused them.”

“That’s why...” Jungkook murmured as he got up, Taehyung’s eyes following him to the fridge.

“I have to get my shit together and get over all this. I have to become more independent…” he took out some vegetables from the fridge.

“… so that he can have his life back.”

He set a pot on the stove and smiled at Taehyung, who kept staring, a blank expression on his face.

“To tell the truth... when I talked about ups and downs… It’s been mostly downs.”

“I’ve spent years trying to forget everything, attempting, more or less consciously... to kill myself.”

He talked, staring at the cutting board in front of him, nervously fiddling with a thread of his apron that was coming apart.

“Overdoses... I’m no stranger to that. Only... I had never been on this side of it. I only knew the sweet oblivion, the hope of never-ending contentment, and the annoyance of waking up once again, more miserable than ever. But this time... I’ve seen it with my own eyes. And it wasn’t me. It was Jimin who-”

His voice got caught in his throat. A tear dropped on the cutting board. Then another, and another one. Jungkook’s sorrow streamed down his flushed cheeks, and he stood silent, unable to do or say anything, as his heart clenched in guilt and grief. He knew that would have happened, eventually. He had talked too much. Yoongi had told him to stop thinking about Jimin, to rest a bit and relax. And what was he doing? Reminiscing his darkest years, thinking about Jimin, and spilling tears over carrots and tomatoes on his cutting board. He heard steps coming towards him, and before he could realize, Taehyung had turned him around and was wiping his tears with his hands.

“Jungkookie... I... It’s alright, don’t cry...”

“But hyung...” Jungkook murmured, pointing at Taehyung’s face.

“You’re crying too...”

He let out a small laugh, as tears kept streaming down both faces. Jungkook patted Taehyung’s cheeks with his sweater paws, and the man couldn’t refrain from smiling in between sobs looking at the boy’s focused expression.

“Hyung... stop crying, will you? I’m having a hard time keeping your cheeks dry, you know?” Jungkook murmured, his lips curled in a pout.

“Ah... what are we doing...” Taehyung chuckled, wiping his eyes.

“I know right? Men our age go out drinking and having fun, and we’re in my tiny apartment crying and cooking ramen.”

They both smiled, and finally, tears turned into sparkles in their eyes, and sobs into giggles. Jungkook glanced at the cutting board, flooded with tears.

“Let me help, Kookie.”

He took the vegetables and washed them once again.

“Do you happen to know how to cook?”

“Yes. Living alone, I’ve learned how to do most things on my own. I’m not great, but I can follow instructions for sure.”

“Wait.” Taehyung frowned.

“Do you know how to cook?”

Jungkook scratched his head. “Well... I’ve never cooked anything besides ramen, but there’s always a first time, right?”

The man laughed in disbelief.

“But these vegetables aren’t for the ramen... then what are you trying to prepare with your non-existent cooking skills?”

Jungkook playfully punched Taehyung.

“Well… I’m preparing ramen for us, but I was also trying to prepare one of Jimin’s soups for tomorrow… before I realized I don’t even know how to start.”

Taehyung scanned the instructions. “We can do this together. I’ll teach you.”

“Thanks…”

“You know…” Jungkook murmured as he watched Taehyung cutting the vegetables.

“I’m preparing it for Yin.”

Taehyung frowned. “And who’s that?”

Jungkook smiled to himself, as he stirred the ramen.

“She’s one of my students. And… she’s… anorexic.”

“Oh.”

“You can imagine my relapse was because of that. She’s… special. And I don’t want to see what happened to my brother… happen to her.”

“I see.”

They cooked in silence for some time, before Jungkook spoke again.

“... Jimin’s been having lunch with her every day to make sure she eats, but… well, he’s unconscious now, so I guess I will have to take his role.”

Taehyung nodded, still processing everything Jungkook had told him.

“But Kook. Wouldn’t that…”

“Trigger me? Yeah, it did, many times. But I have to try anyway, if I want to get better. I’ve asked Yoongi too, he’s a psychologist now, you know? And he said it should be okay.”

Jungkook smiled softly.

“I really want to help her. She’s the first person I’ve ever told what happened with my brother. And she’s special. Did I tell you that?”

Taehyung chuckled, shaking his head. “Yes, you did.”

“What are you laughing at hyung?” Jungkook frowned, innocently staring at him.

“Oh, nothing important. Look, you cut carrots like this,” he smiled.

As he showed Jungkook how to cut vegetables, which seemed really hard to the young boy, Taehyung couldn’t stop thinking about how Jungkook hadn’t reproached him, not even once. He still felt guilty. Even after all those years, after he had abandoned them without a word, taking the easy way out, Jungkook was willing to open up about the hardest things with him, like nothing had ever happened between them. How could he not be angry? How could he really not ask him why he had left?

Ramen ready, they sat at the table and ate it, as they talked about the others’ whereabouts. It turned out, neither of them had seen Hoseok since he had moved to another city with his girlfriend. And Jin had gone to live abroad to take care of his father’s affairs, but since then they had lost contact, and nobody knew where he was. When it was time for Taehyung to go, at the door of the apartment, Jungkook timidly eyed Taehyung.

“Hyung...”

“Yes?”

Jungkook fiddled with the now almost torn edge of his apron, which he still hadn’t taken off.

“I d-don’t know what you’re going through...”

Taehyung froze in his spot.

“But there’s something bothering you, right? I... I don’t mean to come into your personal life like that, really, I don’t want to be intrusive...” he continued, hesitant.

“Really, I’ll understand if you don’t want to tell me, but...”

Jungkook took a deep breath.

“What I mean is that I’m here. I’m always here, in this apartment. Whenever you want, if you want, if you need someone to lean on... I’d be glad to listen to you.”

Taehyung stared, shook, unable to form a word.

Jungkook took out a piece of paper and scribbled some numbers on it. He then extended it towards Taehyung.

“Maybe I shouldn’t even ask you this... it’s selfish, I know... I wouldn’t want you to come back into this hell you had stayed out of for a good while. But... I’d like to see you again. Here’s my number, Namjoon’s, Yoongi’s and... Jimin’s. I don’t know if you still have them, but...”

Taehyung finally took the paper from Jungkook’s trembling hand, and stared at it, silently.

“Oh and also...” he scribbled something on another piece of paper.

“If, by any chance, you wanted to see Jimin... this is his room... and hospital. It’s Namjoon’s hospital.”

Taehyung didn’t know what to say. This was all too much. Still, he forced himself to smile, tears welling up in his eyes.

“Thank you, Jungkook. And sorry. For everything I did to you.”

“What?” Jungkook asked, confused.

“It’s nothing... I really have to go now. But... I’d like to see you again.”

Jungkook smiled and hugged him again.

“Thank you for coming, hyung. You don’t realize how happy you made me. With Jimin at the hospital, I really... didn’t know what to do with myself, you know? I’m so glad you found me.”

Taehyung’s lips curved into a soft simper as a tear fell down his cheek. They stood, staring at each other, not wanting to say goodbye. They were both terrified that, by parting tonight, it would all be a dream, and, waking up the next day, the other would be gone, lost forever. Jungkook finally sighed.

“I-it’s best if you go now, before they close the gate. It would be a pain for you to have to go around and ask the guard to open back up. They’re so strict with security here...”

“Oh. Right. See you, then.” Taehyung sighed.

“See you soon, hyung.”

Walking on autopilot, Taehyung moped down the hallway, until he found himself outside the university’s gates. As a dam abruptly broken, the stream of his emotions broke free. He was way too tired to have any self-composure at all. He was alone anyway; who needed to see him like that? His legs wobbled, and he let himself fall to the ground, leaning his back on the brick wall as tears rolled down his cheeks.

What had he done?

Was he happy or not?

He couldn’t tell. So much had happened that night… he still couldn’t believe it. To think he was about to …

He choked a sob at the thought of those murky waters that had almost lured him to his death. Oh, at what point had he gotten to have even thought of that? And it had been Jungkook, right? The guy that had passed by, who had unconsciously saved him from such a cruel fate.

Was it cruel, though?

Was this hell he was willingly putting himself into all over again better than the oblivion of death? He didn’t know what to think. Was it even okay for him to see Jungkook again? To rebuild broken relationships like that? Had he any right to do that to him or any of the other guys? He took out of his pocket the small pieces of paper Jungkook had handed him. He flipped them through his hands. Should he have thrown them away, before he could give in to his desires and create a mess? But despite how much he tried, he couldn’t get himself to do it. Wasn’t this what he had wished for years? Didn’t he want to be in contact with them once again?

He placed the paper back into his pocket and was left with Jimin’s room address in his hands. Right. Jimin was there, in that hospital. From what Jungkook had told him, it had been a horrible time for Jungkook, and Jimin had been with him through it all. Very expected for someone as caring as Jimin. He had honoured all his promises, unlike himself. But was it a good thing, though? He was in the hospital now, unconscious, because he had overdosed on painkillers. Jimin overdosing on a medication. That was something he would have never expected. He always used to push himself over the limits, especially when it came to dancing, but never had he abused medications like that. He’d rather endure the pain and carry on. Jimin had a quite high pain tolerance. How much had he suffered to get to this point?

And what about his dreams of becoming a dancer? He still couldn’t believe Jimin had really given it all up.

Taehyung wiped his tears and got up. He felt horrible and stunned by everything that had happened. But there was something different: he was a little less empty. He realized that the time he spent with Jungkook had been incredibly beautiful; it had been the first time since forever that he felt extremely happy. He didn’t feel alone, and despite all the sorrow and regrets, he was safe.

He was finally home.

Jungkook wanted to see him again. He couldn’t understand how he could want that after how much he had hurt him. But if that was his wish, and it could truly help him out a bit, was there something bad about meeting him again?

“Once more,” he told himself, “I’ll see him once more, and then I’ll decide if it’s okay for me to stay in his life.”

He got into a taxi. He checked the time: it was 10 PM.

“Where should I take you, sir?”

Taehyung looked at the tiny paper he was still tightly holding between his fingers.

He took a deep breath.

“88 Olympic-ro 43-gil, Songpa-gu, Asan medical centre.”

Chapter Text

External POV

Taehyung walked in through the large glass doors, looking around. People were sitting in the waiting room, while nurses rushed down the aisles. The signs on the endless doors were more than he could count, and he stood there for a while, right at the entrance, unsure of where to go.

He only knew the room number. How was he supposed to find it in that maze of names and weird scientific terms? Where could Jimin be? In which ward? The more he looked around, the more he found it impossible to understand. He had been living abroad for years now, and although he hadn’t forgotten his first language, he had gotten slower at reading.

“How can I help you, sir?” A voice called him.

Taehyung was shaking. He didn’t even know why. He was so pale people could have mistaken for a patient rather than a visitor. Indeed, a nurse had noticed his state, and had come to see what was going on.

“Sir? Are you okay?”

His heart was racing, everything around him seemed to be confusing.

“Do you need help?”

Taehyung finally snapped out of his trance. He looked at the nurse who was staring at him, worried.

“U-um, is it t-too late for visits?”

The nurse checked the time.

“It’s visit time until 11, so you still have a good half an hour. Which room are you looking for?”

“Oh, room 268, I think. Park Jimin.”

Chills ran down his spine as he pronounced that name.

“Let me check…”

The nurse walked over to the info desk. Not even a minute later, she was back.

“Yes, he’s in room 268. He’s currently in chemically induced coma, so I’m afraid he won’t be able to hear you.”

“It’s okay, thank you.”

Taehyung unsurely walked down the empty corridors, the sound of his steps echoing in his ears. He stopped in front of a white door. Under the room number, a small piece of paper. On it, was written “park Jimin.” Taking a deep breath, he placed a hand on the doorknob, and finally walked in.

Eight years. Eight years since the day they had last seen each other. Who would have thought they would have ended up like this? Both on the brink of death, both voluntarily, on the same day. The slow, inexorable passing of time had shaped them and altered their faces and lives. But despite that, they were still bound by an invisible fate. Jimin laid unconscious on a bed, glassy skin paler than the room’s white walls. His bleached hair scattered all over the place, framing a gaunt face, expressionless.

Taehyung silently sat down next to him, closing his eyes. He waited, urging his heart to stop pounding in his chest. He listened to the constant beeping of the machines all around him.

When he finally mustered up enough courage, he opened his eyes again. He scanned Jimin’s lean figure once again and lingered on his lips. They were chapped, pale and bruised, probably because of the procedures he had undergone. His heart sank.

“Jiminie... why? How did you get to this point?”

He looked peaceful, but he had dark circles under his eyes, and looked like he hadn’t slept in a month. He faintly breathed, as the monitor drew the geometric, sharp beat of his broken heart. In Taehyung’s soul, two opposite feelings were battling, making it impossible for him to stop shaking. On one hand, the desperation of seeing his long-lost friend in that horrible state filled his whole being. On the other hand, he was experiencing the heart-wrenching joy of being able to look at Jimin again, even if just for a night.

He was glad Jimin couldn’t hear him. He didn’t think he would have been able to bear his cold glares, had he been awake. Shaking, he timidly reached for Jimin’s hand. Gently and carefully, he took his hand in his and wrapped his fingers around it, as if protecting a fragile flower.

Only when Taehyung felt the warmth of Jimin’s hand did he realize Jimin was really there. It wasn’t his imagination; he was really lying next to him, not even half a meter away. How was this even possible? This wasn’t what he had imagined when, countless times, he had dreamt of meeting Jimin again.

“Remember this, Taehyung. This will probably be the last time you’ll be able to see him. He’s someone whose forgiveness you will never deserve.”

His eyes fell on Jimin’s slender wrist, around which a silver bracelet was loosely tied.

A tear fell on Jimin’s hand. It took some time for Taehyung to realise he was crying. Trembling, he gently laid Jimin’s hand back on the bed, and hastily pulled out his wallet. Inside a small pocket, from the day he had taken it off many years before, was an identical copy of the bracelet. Out of everything he had gotten rid of, that was one of the few things he had never had the courage to throw away. Not only had Jimin kept it, but he also had been wearing it, probably ever since he had gifted it to him.

After everything Taehyung had done to him, after all the pain.

He burst into sobs, letting his head fall onto the mattress next to Jimin’s hand, as he fiercely clutched his own bracelet.

What a coward, he thought. He only knew how to run away and had hidden anything that could remind him of what he had done. Jimin and Jungkook instead, had kept facing the past, the present and the future, without ever giving up, despite how hard that could be. He stood there for a good while, his face pressed into the mattress, pain and regret tearing his heart apart, his hands blindly searching for Jimin’s, as he expressed through his tears all he’d never had the courage to put into words.

Oh, how bittersweet. In his heart bloomed the relief of having found his friends, or at least some of them; guilt for everything he had done, heart-wrenching pity for Jimin and Jungkook’s suffering, pure disbelief for how Jungkook was willing to see him again, terror of facing Jimin that yet laid there in front of him, fear of whatever was to come.

“Jimin-ah…” he whispered.

“Wake up soon... You have to get your life back…”

But as he said those words, he also realized he selfishly desired for Jimin to stay like that a little longer. Just a little more, so he could spend time with him. He knew that as soon as Jimin would wake up, he would have to keep his distance, disappear before he could see him. Jimin could never forgive him, and he deserved no pity nor commiseration. It was already enough that Jungkook was willing to start anew. But with Jimin, it was different.

There was no way a shattered friendship could be mended.

Not theirs.

Not after all the damage they both had done.

Taehyung looked at the clock. It was time to leave.

He gently fixed Jimin’s hair. His lips quivered, as he tried to smile.

“Jimin-ah… please… don’t do this to yourself anymore, hmm?”

His voice came out in a mere whisper.

“T-try to live your life to the fullest… and… be happy, okay? I… won’t bother you anymore.”

He placed his silver bracelet on Jimin’s bedside table.

“G-goodbye, Jimin-ah…”

He wiped his tears.

“I’m happy I got to see you, at least once.”

And without further words, he disappeared behind the door.

External POV

The girl sat in front of the black-haired man, who she supposed was Yoongi. He had never lifted his eyes from the folder he held in his hands, not even when the girl had entered the room. He looked at his scribbled notes, taken during a recent phone call with Jimin.

Obvious anorexia, cause still to define, but possible origin in her traumatic past. Unexplained fear of alcohol, defined as “bad experiences” by the girl. Rubbing her right wrist without realizing, to the point of irritating her skin. Checking her arms anxiously in certain circumstances.

She has made progress with her eating, but she’s still struggling with it.

She’s reluctant to talk at first, but if you get to know her, she’ll open up. She loves to write. Has a passion for the small things nobody usually notices.

She admires Jungkook, her teacher, and knows about Junghyun and some of Jungkook’s past. Has seen him relapse before.

Yoongi put the folder down. Yin was indeed quite skinny and pale. She nervously played with the hem of her shirt; lips pursed.

“Hey there. You must be Yin.”

Her breath hitched at the sudden words. Unsurely lifting her gaze up, she saw the man smiling warmly.

“My name’s Yoongi, but I think Jimin already told you that.”

Yin nodded; mind blank.

“Okay… let’s start, shall we? Let’s just have a friendly chat, to get to know each other. Do you want some tea?” he murmured, as he got up.

“Ah… y-yes, thank you.”

He smiled again and handed her a warm mug.

“So, Yin… would you like to tell me why you’re here?”

The girl nervously bit her lip.

“I... well... I came because... I mean Jimin... at the convention I... y-you see...”

She stuttered for some time, before giving up, nervous. Why wasn’t her mind collaborating? Before coming here, she had prepared for that question. But now it was all a jumbled mess inside her head, and she couldn’t find the right words to say what she meant.

“There’s no need to feel nervous. Why don’t you try again? I’m not here to judge you or anything.”

The girl opened her mouth several times, but no sound or words came.

“Okay... maybe I can help you with that. Jimin called me to schedule an appointment for you. And he told me he was trying his best, but there was something that was making it harder for you to progress, and he had no idea how to help with that. Is that true?”

The girl nodded.

“...it is.”

“Could you expand a bit on that?”

“U-uh, I... do you mean… s-should I tell you about my eating...?”

“Yes, if it’s okay with you.”

Speaking with a stranger like that, talking about her disorder, that wasn’t something she was used to, or even remotely comfortable with.

But this man was Jimin and Jungkook’s friend, right? She had promised Jimin she would try her best with this.

“Um... I did some progress... and I wanted to eat something different, because I felt confident I would be able to. Jimin told me to wait a bit more, but I... I wanted to try chicken. I thought it would be light enough, but when I had the plate in front of me... I panicked. I don’t know what happened, but I couldn’t even touch it.”

Yoongi nodded. He meticulously wrote everything down.

“Okay. Thank you for sharing this. I know how hard it can be. From what you said, I suppose you’re here to get over this issue and get your life back, then.”

The girl frowned. But after some time, she nodded.

Why had she frowned? Which part of his sentence did she disagree with? Yoongi decided to make a couple tries more.

“So, you’re here because of that... and because of something in your past... right?” he slowly said, eyeing her.

Yin froze.

“We don’t have to talk about it now. But I’d like to know... something bad happened in your past, right?”

“Y-yes.”

Yoongi nodded in understanding and leaned back on his chair.

“All right Yin, hear me out. First of all, I think I should explain to you what I do and who I am.”

“As you might know, I’m an old friend of Jimin and Jungkook. I’ve been helping Jungkook out for the last 7 years. But that’s not really the focus of this. Let’s just say I’ve had my fair share of unpleasant experiences as a child, and I grew up with the desire to help others, and the first of these people happened to be Jungkook.”

He took a sip out of his mug.

“I don’t know what Jimin might have told you about me, but what I do here is not magically solve people’s problems. As I’m sure you’ve seen with Jungkook, he’s not completely fine, even after all this time. And that’s not because I’m an incompetent, or he’s a lost cause, not at all. Horrible things happened to him, as you probably know.”

The girl nodded.

“He’s been improving recently, but if he has done so now, and not before, it’s because for many years he had no desire to get better. He wanted to hide, to ease the pain, and the medicines offered him the best escape, although he soon realized that wasn’t a permanent solution.”

“Again, I’m not talking about this because I like to spill on my client’s private life, but because you know him, and I need you to understand this. He started progressing when he began wanting something better for himself. When he decided he wanted to enjoy life, and not be a slave to his fears, when he understood he wanted to live, that is when he started healing. And that was at the beginning of this school year.”

“As you’ve seen, this is not a simple process. It requires the person to dig into their past and suffer through it. But if one succeeds, then… it’s 100 times better. The before and after are incomparable.”

“I can offer all my help, but without the patient’s will, I can’t do anything to fix their problems.”

Yoongi sat up, staring right into the girl’s eyes, so intensely that chills ran down the girl’s spine.

“Yin, listen closely. What I’ll be doing with you, if you accept, is give you a way to free yourself from whatever suffering you’ve been bearing on you all these years. The only thing I ask you to do is trust me through it all and start wanting the best for you.”

Noticing the hesitance in her eyes, he spoke again.

“You can choose to trust me like you did with Jimin, or else you can stop the meetings right here, if you want to. Whatever you decide to do, it has to be your choice.”

As a thick fog, silence quickly invaded the room. But if the room was quiet, the Yin’s head wasn’t. Yoongi’s words kept echoing in her ears. Something didn’t feel right.

The girl took a deep breath. Eyes fixated on the ground, in a whisper, barely audible, she spoke.

“But what if I don’t care?”

Yoongi arched an eyebrow, intrigued.

“Explain yourself.”

“I d-don’t know what’s wrong with me, but… you keep saying I have to want it, I should do it for me, I should want to get better. But I’m not here for that.”

Yoongi listened closely.

“Okay. Then I’m going to ask you again. Why are you here if you don’t care?”

Yoongi attentively observed the girl, who lowered her eyes, genuinely trying to formulate an answer.

“If what you told me is what you really think, you don’t care about yourself, because of something we could discuss later if you decide to continue this process with me. Then… also getting rid of your eating disorder isn’t a concern for you. You don’t care but still you’re getting better… how come? You must have some sort of motivation, or else you wouldn’t even be trying.”

Yoongi scribbled something on a paper, eyeing the girl, who had gone silent, and looked puzzled.

“I- There’s someone I made a promise to…”

“And what did you promise?”

“… That I wouldn’t let myself die. That I would get better.”

“Why?”

Yin’s heart was exploding in her chest.

“Because he’s the first p-person who ever told me it matters to them… if I… live.” She murmured. Her cheeks were now of a dark shade of red.

There it was, the reaction Yoongi was looking for. Maybe she didn’t know how to love herself, but she surely knew how to love somebody else.

“Well, if you can’t do it for yourself, doing it for someone you care about is a good start.”

Yoongi slid a sticky note towards her.

“Okay. I think we’re done for today. Here’s my phone number. Think about everything I told you. Doing something because you care for somebody else, despite how noble it is, is also hard. I want you to be 100% sure of what you’re doing before starting. When you’re ready to tell me what you’ve decided, text me.”

The girl hesitantly took the note in her hands, and bowed, not daring to lift her eyes up. She quickly reached the door and turned around.

“T-thank you. I’ll think about it.”

She quickly left the room.

As if in a trance, the girl left the building, cheeks still aflame. When she saw Jimin’s car, she entered and sat silent.

“So? How was it?”

At the question, the girl froze. What was she supposed to answer? It’s not like much had happened. But she was drained and just wished for this interminable day to be over.

She shrugged, not knowing what else to say.

-------------------------------

That night, she didn’t sleep at all. Her mind was filled with doubts, and she had spent hours questioning everything and anything. Was it really okay? Was she allowed to care so much about her teacher? What would have others thought if they had discovered that? What would Mr. Jeon think if he knew?

But the thing was, that man wasn’t Mr. Jeon to her. It was Jungkook, the man who had showed her his vulnerabilities, who had opened up and helped her out when in need.

He was the man she had dragged back inside, delirious and feverish, the man with whom she had spent… that night she fell in love with the stars again. The night she felt most alive in years… he, Jungkook, had been with her.

Dangerous waters, she repeated to herself, dangerous waters the ones she was diving in.

Could she be catching feelings for Jungkook? For that Jungkook?

She kept denying it, but she couldn’t lie about the way her heart raced every time she met him. She couldn’t forget her euphoria when she saw him down the corridors and he said hi to her. Every moment was precious to her, and she would constantly think about those small fragments of happiness.

It didn’t help that Jimin, during their lunch together, would always tell her how sweet Jungkook was, of how much of an adorable kid he was when he was young, of how considerate and passionate he could be.

Jungkook, Jungkook, Jungkook.

His special attention towards her, but at the same time, his unbiased treatment when in class, his professionalism and work ethic.

She loved everything about him.

What would most refuse to leave her head and ears though, was that night. That evening she had run out to look for him, had found him alone, desperate, in need of help. And in the elevator, her heart beating furiously against his, his words… in his delirium.

She shook her head as she walked towards the infirmary. She had to stop, stop thinking about all that, or she was going to go crazy.

She rubbed her eyes. She was extremely tired, and just wanted to sleep and forget her internal turmoil. For once, she hoped Jimin wouldn’t spend the whole lunch talking about Jungkook’s greatness.

But when she opened the door, instead of the usual image of Jimin setting the table, she saw Jungkook.

Wait, what? Was she hallucinating? She’d better sleep more.

The hallucination waved at her. Wow, it looked so real. Now it was even speaking? She never thought her imagination could reach such heights.

She felt weak, and her head had started spinning.

“Yin? Are you okay?”

Oh, wait. That wasn’t a hallucination. Jungkook was really there, in front of her.

“Uh- h-hello. Yes, I’m fine.” She muttered in confusion.

“You’re really pale, though. Are you sure you’re feeling well?”

“M-my head’s spinning a bit...”

And as she talked, the dizziness worsened, and she leaned on the wall.

“It’s best if you sit down. Can you walk on your own?”

“J-just give me a second.”

“Sure...”

The girl took a deep breath, and the dizziness slowly got better. She shakily made her way to the table and sat down. She blankly stared into the void, blinking furiously. She hated this. Every time she was about to pass out, she felt extremely nauseated.

Jungkook watched her draw a sigh of relief and lean back on the chair.

“Better?”

“Yeah.”

They sat in silence for some time, as Jungkook waited for the soup to warm up in the microwave.

“Does it happen often?”

He suddenly asked.

“What?”

“The dizziness... does it still...”

“Oh... Sometimes… before lunch, but not always.”

“I see...”

Jungkook’s expression turned serious. “Listen… I know you might be confused about why I’m here… and Jimin isn’t… well… Jimin is…”

He took a deep breath.

“You know it all already, it’s no use hiding this. Just… don’t get scared, okay?” he murmured, eyes attentively scanning her expression.

Confused, she slowly nodded.

“Jimin can’t come today, and maybe he won’t for a week, or two.”

“… Okay.” The girl murmured, but Jungkook’s eyes told her there was more.

“He’s… in hospital.”

“He’ll be fine,” he immediately added to ease her worries, “But… you remember when he had that bad migraine at the convention, right?”

She nodded.

“Well… he’s been having them for a long time. He’s kept them at bay with painkillers for some time, but he took one too many and… he basically overdosed.”

“What?”

Jungkook smiled.

“He’s going to be fine, though. I just have to convince him to relax a bit more and take more time for himself. Don’t worry, everything’s under control.”

“Under control my ass…” Jungkook thought. But he had to say something, right?

“Okay. I really hope he’s going to be alright. It’s my fault too… i-if I weren’t such a dead weight on you and Jimin…”

Jungkook shook his head, giving her a sympathetic smile. “Don’t even think about something like that. Now, let’s eat, shall we?”

They started eating quietly.

Jungkook sighed. “The soup… I’m sorry it’s not as good as Jimin’s, but… I’m not that great of a cook myself. A friend lent me a hand… if it were for me, I could never even cut a carrot.”

The girl smiled. “It’s good, actually. Thank you.”

They continued, in a comfortable silence.

“By the way… Did you ever feel you were about to faint in class?”

The girl looked up.

“Ah, sorry for the sudden question. It’s just… you looked very tired and unfocused today during the lesson. I was wondering if...”

The girl became bright pink with embarrassment.

“Uh… No, I’m good… It’s my roommate’s fault. She snores really loudly, and I didn’t get a good night of rest. But I’m feeling as usual, nothing has worsened.”

He smiled. “Well, I’m glad it’s that. But if you were to suddenly feel weak, or anything else, don’t hesitate to say it. It’s better if you ask me to take a break and get some fresh air than to pass out in class, alright?”

She nodded, not daring to look at him in the eyes. “Thank you. I-I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Finals are behind the corner. Try to get as much sleep as you can, especially since you’re in a particular... situation.”

She nodded.

“Tomorrow…”

Jungkook murmured, as he ate his soup.

“I’ll explain a new author. He’s called Gustavo Adolfo Bécquer. It’s not an essential poet for our literature course. But, you know, I do have some freedom when it comes to expanding on certain topics rather than others. Since we’re studying romanticism, Bécquer seemed the better choice to me. Have you ever heard of him?”

The girl shook his head.

“Well, to make it short, since you’re going to hear it in class tomorrow, he’s had a terrible life, filled with suffering from his childhood. He’s Spanish, I discovered him just a couple of months ago. He put a lot of work in his poems, and you could analyse them for days. His poems approach various topics, but my favourite is pain. Well, you know my story already, but… I felt a lot of comfort reading his words. Sometimes, when the pain gets too much, you just want to forget everything and be swallowed up by a dark sea…”

Jungkook stopped himself from stepping out of his “trigger free” zone.

“But you’ll hear about that in class. What about you? We’ve done quite a lot of authors from romanticism now. Do you have a favourite?”

Yin, who had urged her heart to stop jumping in her chest several times during their conversation, now didn’t care anymore. She was fully engrossed in what they were talking about, and spoke without feeling shy, cheerfully.

“Actually, I have one. For the past days I haven’t been able to take my mind off Novalis’ hymn an die Nacht.”

“Ah, that’s a classic”

“It’s just so beautiful! The way the poet spends a third of the poem praising the day, with its light, that makes everything shine and alive; just for him to say:

“abwärts wend’ ich mich; zu der heiligen, unaussprechlichen, geheimnisvollen Nacht.”

Jungkook saw as the girl’s eyes filled with a new light.

“He prefers the mysterious night, in which every limit of reality fades into the darkness, and everything becomes possible. Thanks to the night, the author can reach a supernatural universe, where his dead girlfriend is waiting for him. The clarity of day becomes futile, “arm und kindisch” (poor and childish) when compared to the great night.”

Jungkook thought it was amazing how well she could remember the poem. She had read it countless times already and would never get tired of it. She had engraved those words in her heart, that tension towards infinity, the “Streben.” Yes, that “Streben” was what she lived for. That desire to always be in this tension, to always dream.

“And then my favourite part:”

She continued, as her eyes glimmered.

“Hast auch du Ein menschliches Herz, Dunkle Nacht? Was hältst du Unter deinem Mantel Das mir unsichtbar An diese Seele geht?”

“The German romanticism fascinates me. It’s where the cultural current actually began, and although maybe a bit too extreme on the mystic side for what I like, it’s certainly one of the most fascinating sides of the romanticism that ever existed. It contains the core principles that will spread through Europe during the first half of the 19th century, and the strong, magnificent feelings that started it all.”

From outside, nobody could have told who the student was and who the teacher. They confronted on the same topics, as if they were colleagues, friends. Two souls drawn by the hidden beauty. Two souls that, despite not knowing it, were terribly alike.

They kept chatting, passion and love for literature inflaming their hearts. Even months later, they would remember every detail of that conversation, every accent, every breath. And they would cherish those memories, and keep them safe, protected by all suffering, enclosed in their heart, embers ready to spark a new fire.

When Yin left to go back to her dorm, the inebriating feeling of what they had talked about still keeping her heart captive, she realized, it was the first time she ate the entire meal.

Chapter Text

External POV

“Why are you smiling so much?”

Mina asked when she saw Yin making her way into their dorm, eyes shining.

“What? Can’t I just be happy?”

Yin walked straight towards her room to escape her friend’s questions, but soon found out Mina had followed her.

She rolled her eyes and let her heavy bag fall onto the ground. Even though she felt over the moon, the sleepless night was showing its ugly side.

“There’s something fishy,” Mina insisted. “Where did you disappear yesterday afternoon? Who were you with?”

“That’s none of your business” Yin replied calmly, a beaming smile still on her lips.

“There’s something going on in your life, and you’re not telling me anything about it. Come on! I’m your friend, aren’t I?”

Mina pouted, but when she received no response, she plopped down on Yin’s bed.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“I won’t leave until you tell me what happened to you.”

“Because something is up, don’t even try to deny it.” Mina pointed her finger at the girl.

Sighing, the girl laid down on the side of the bed that wasn’t occupied by her friend.

“Ah… You really are stubborn.”

“I’m not stubborn, I’m simply curious about your life. I know nothing about you, and we’ve been living in these small ass rooms for what, two years now? Why won’t you open up?”

“There’s nothing good to know about me, that’s why.”

Mina frowned.

“What do you mean?”

Yin quickly sat up, coldly glaring at Mina.

“Exactly what I said. There’s nothing in my past worth mentioning, and so I never bothered to talk about it. I’d rather forget it, but why does everyone want to bring it up now? It’s the past, right? Then why dig it up? I don’t want to have anything to do with it.”

By the way Yin’s hands were trembling, Mina understood that wasn’t a topic she should have mentioned.

“I’m sorry...”

Mina placed a hand on Yin’s shoulder.

“I’m not gonna ask you about that if that bothers you. But still, I feel the need to tell you this: I never asked you to tell me how amazing you are. I would just like you to show me yourself, in the good and the bad. You’re not comfortable talking about the past. And I respect that. But I hope you can find someone you can reveal yourself to, completely, without leaving behind anything of what you are. The past is what makes us who we are. It’s okay if the person you’re gonna show your true colours to is not me, but please, don’t keep everything in.”

Yin kept staring down, lips pursed.

Mina sighed. Delicately, she lifted Yin’s chin up.

“Hey... Don’t lose your smile because of this. When you entered the dorm, you seemed the happiest you’ve ever been since I met you.”

“Just because I let you off the hook, don’t you think I lost interest in what’s going on. I still want to know how in the world can you have the strength to smile like that after a stressful school day!”

Yin chuckled, shaking her head.

“You really are stubborn!”

Mina got up, a wide grin on her lips.

“Curious about you dear, not stubborn” she murmured, pointing her finger towards the girl.

“If you, by any chance, decide you want to tell me something about this mysterious smile that’s glued to your lips, you know where to find me.”

And so Mina walked out, shutting the door behind her.

Yin laid back down on the bed, sighing. Why did it have to be so hard? Mina was always so good to her… She never had a friend like her, so caring and respectful. It’s not that Yin didn’t care about her. She would have liked to open up with her, but… she just couldn’t. The past was something she really wanted to forget, not bring up again. Why would she want to ruin her future too?

She thought back at Yoongi’s session. Was she ready for that? Was she motivated enough to do it? And first of all, what should she say?

She had never opened up with anyone about what had happened, never said those words aloud.

Where could she start from? What was enough to say? In what order? How could she talk about that without bursting into tears?

“I hope you find someone you can reveal yourself to, completely.”

Mina’s words echoed in her head.

Was that even possible?

She thought about it for a good while, but she couldn’t come up with a genuine answer. Until...

Until she remembered Jungkook’s words.

Wait. That’s right.

Jungkook had opened up with her, revealing to her his past.

Yes, he had panicked; he had cried, but he wanted to tell her about his past, and he did.

How had he managed to do that? Even today at lunch, he had alluded to his past sufferings. And for him to purposefully talk to the class about a poem that was so personal for him… How?

He didn’t know where to start either; she remembered. At the convention, in that hotel room, sick and feverish. Although he didn’t have any idea what to say, he had tried. He had never told all of that to anybody, and still he had told her.

The more she thought about it, the more questions troubled her heart.

Why, why, why had he decided to open up even if it was painful?

Why had he knowingly put himself through that when he could have avoided it? He could have had Jimin say it in his stead, but he hadn’t.

He wanted her to know it, and it was him the one who had to tell her.

Why?

-----------------------------

It had been a terrible night.

All night, doubt after doubt, she kept questioning herself. Why couldn’t she open up? And why could Jungkook do that? Why with her?

She had been thinking about it for the whole night, but as she watched the sky getting lighter, she still hadn’t got any answer.

What was she hoping for? What did she want? Who did she want?

As she entered the class, the same questions still resonated in her head.

“Good morning, Yin”

The girl flinched at the voice.

“Ah, good morning Jun- uh… Mr. Jeon…”

Jungkook was sitting at his desk, silently gazing at the desert of empty desks in front of him.

Her eyes focused from Jungkook to the window behind him. The sun hadn’t even gone up yet, and everything was floating in the blue of the night.

“What time-”

“It’s barely six.”

“Oh.”

“The class is in two hours.”

“I didn’t realize it was so early...”

Jungkook shrugged. “Me neither.”

The ticking of the clock hung over their heads echoed in the wide room. Tick.. toc... it continued, setting the tempo for the two’s growing nervousness.

Yin’s eyes scanned the room, and then fell on Jungkook’s hands, which were shaking.

The man noticed the girl’s gaze and linked his hands together hoping to hide his anxiety. It was useless though, as he was still trembling.

He chuckled nervously, hiding his hands under the desk.

“Ah… it’s so early… Why don’t we have a coffee? We have time.”

Yin’s heart skipped a beat.

“O-o-of c-course!”

They walked down the empty corridors, the sound of their steps reverberating around them in the sleepy darkness.

As they got out of the building, a gust of wind made them shiver. Spring was already decorating the trees with its blooms, but the breeze still carried a nostalgic scent with it, memories of a distant winter.

The first timid rays of the sun were slowly filtering through the many skyscrapers, glimmering on the windows of the buildings that now seemed to be made of liquid gold.

They got their coffee, and Yin was sure they were going to go back. Instead, after a bit of hesitation, Jungkook spoke.

“Follow me. I want to show you something.”

And the girl followed, down the main street of the campus, then right, and then left, and into a building.

Well, not exactly into it, rather, on top of it.

Through a series of corridors and doors, they found themselves on the roof of the highest building in the campus. Yin was reluctant to step out the door.

Jungkook turned around and smiled at her. He extended a hand.

“Come on, don’t be scared. Hold on to my arm. I swear it’s worth it.”

The girl’s eyes scanned the area.

“Please, just trust me. We have to be quick, or we won’t see it.”

“See what?”

“I’ll show you, if you let me.”

Finally, although not fully convinced, Yin clung to Jungkook’s hand, and he led her, slowly, over to an area that wasn’t so close to the edge.

“See? There’s nothing to be scared about.” He softly said, as the girl slowly slid down the wall she had basically glued herself to.

When she sat on the ground, she finally relaxed. She did not dare to lift her eyes up, though.

Jungkook sat next to her, still smiling.

“Hey, you’re safe, hmm? Now comes the best part. Look up.”

And so they did.

And the girl had never seen anything like that.

Amidst the blushing clouds, stars were still shining, projecting their shy light all around, not willing to leave the sky to the incoming day.

“This is the most beautiful moment of the day.”

Jungkook suddenly murmured.

“It’s so melancholic to see the stars flicker amidst the rays of the sun, clinging onto the sky to linger there a little longer. This is the time during which day and night fade into an undefined state, where it isn’t night, nor day. There’s just you, and the immensity of this mysterious time without boundaries.”

“You, and... the immensity of this world.” The girl repeated, eyes glued to the sky.

A new warmth sparked inside her chest. It was only them now; Her, the sky, and... Jungkook.

“You know… I have never done this before”

“Done what?”

The girl asked.

“Show this to someone.”

Jungkook placidly smiled, as the rays of the sun turned his skin into honey, and his eyes into golden amber.

“Not even to Jimin, not Yoongi, not Taehyung, nor Namjoon, Seokjin, Hoseok.”

“I don’t know why, but… I’ve been keeping this place secret; I’ve avoided showing it to anyone. It’s my safe place. Whenever I wanted to hide from my life, my memories, I would come here.”

Jungkook was shaking again.

He took a deep breath.

“The first time I came here...”

-------------------------------

Jungkook’s phone kept buzzing, but he wasn’t having it. He wanted to end it all. Now.

Why was he still alive, anyway? It was him that should have died instead of Junghyun. He was supposed to be the older brother, and still, there he was, alive, while his little brother was trapped in a world of shadows.

If only it had been him, if only it had been him who had died that night, now his friend group would probably live happily together.

It was his fault. Everything was his fault. So why stay alive? Jimin had abandoned his studies for him, the others had fought because of him. Everything was strained, and it was his fault.

He should have put himself and the others out of his misery long ago.

He had wandered all night, drunk on desperation, Jimin probably searching for him by the way his phone had been buzzing incessantly.

Walking around the campus, Jungkook had noticed a small staircase that seemed to lead somewhere high above the ground.

He had climbed it, and suddenly, he was on top of the highest building on the campus.

It had barely been four months since he had started teaching. Barely a year since he had stopped drinking.

But that didn’t mean his miseries had come to an end.

Yes, he had graduated, and he had become a teacher.

But teaching had proved to be both beautiful and extremely hard, especially when he had no stability, nor hope for the future, his heart still mourning over his past.

He was at the end of his rope, and the guilt was becoming way too heavy for him to handle.

He walked closer and closer to the edge. In the sky, light started appearing. Everything was quiet, still immersed in the night. An endless night it seemed to Jungkook, a black shadow that had been cast over his heart seven years before, and that had never left.

Exhausted, Jungkook looked down.

A way to end it all. He would stop suffering; everything would cease to exist. He would set the score straight.

Before he could find the strength to take the deadly step, his mind became hazy and foggy. He squeezed his eyes shut, and when he opened them again and saw the staggering distance between himself and the ground, he got scared. He instinctively wobbled back, away from the edge, falling to the ground.

He winced in pain as his head hit the cement of the wall.

Everything spun around him, as a deep drowsiness came over him. He felt heavy, too heavy to sustain the weight of his throbbing head. Unconsciously, he abandoned his exhausted body to the cold floor, and sunk into a deep blackness.

When he finally opened his eyes again, he was facing the sky.

He groaned in pain at the dull ache in his head, but soon forgot about it, when, above him, he saw the stars.

Before his eyes, the most breath-taking sunrise he had ever seen was slowly taking over the sky with its magnificence.

On the other side of the sky, dark clouds reigned, and the night kept the campus hostage with its glacial veil.

The buzzing of his phone brought him back to reality. Eyes never leaving the miracle of that sky, he answered the call.

“Jungkook! Thank god you’re alive! I’ve been calling you all night! Where are you? Are you okay?!”

He winced in pain at the loud voice coming from the speaker.

“Hyung...” he groggily whispered

“It’s pretty.”

“What?”

“The sky.”

Jimin stood silent for a second, trying to calm down.

“Jungkook… are you on some kind of weird drug? Are you even listening to me?”

“I’m sober.”

“Then would you mind telling me where the heck you are?”

“I…”

Jungkook thought about it. He didn’t want Jimin to discover this place. It was his home, his sky.

“Did you hit your head? Why aren’t you answering me?”

“Oh, right…”

Jungkook murmured, tapping the painful bump that had formed at the back of his head.

“I think I hit my head on the wall… that must be why I’m on the ground.”

“Jungkook where are you? Did you pass out? Please, I’m gonna die if you keep doing this to me! I’ll come, just tell me where you are!”

“I’m… somewhere.”

Someway, he managed to get down on his own, and Jimin never learned where he had been hidden that night.

When Jimin finally saw him, he didn’t even bother asking about the bruises on his body, nor where he had been. He hugged him, silently, and tightly holding his hand, he dragged him back to his apartment.

He knew what Jungkook had tried to do that night; he knew that he was about to commit suicide. And yet, somehow, it hadn’t happened.

And from that day, it never happened. Jungkook never tried to voluntarily kill himself, although Jimin couldn’t figure out why.

------------------------------------------

“… But there’s no need to dwell on that. What is past is past.” Jungkook murmured, his eyes shining with unshed tears.

Somewhere, along the line, their hands had found each other, and were now still delicately linked, painted in the bright pink of the sunrise.

“Today’s exactly one year and eight months from that day. This place is still dear to me, for the beauty it offered me that day, and every time I ever came here.” Jungkook sadly smiled, finishing his cup of coffee.

Yin had been silently listening. Just how desperate must Jungkook have been to get to the point to be ready to kill himself?

“You know… I’m happy we came here. I was extremely nervous before. The thought of having to talk about that poem in class… you know…”

He exhaled a shaky breath.

“… I’m afraid I won’t be able to communicate to the class the feelings that poem created in me. And… you know… I was scared I would get… overwhelmed and react in some stupid way. Controlling my anxiety and ptsd isn’t always easy, and I know I’m exposing myself to some degree of risk by talking about this stuff in class.”

He cleared his throat.

“But now I’m better. The beauty here calmed me down. I don’t feel as bad as before. Thank you for bearing with me.”

“Thank… you.”

And as she spoke, her heart was exploding in her chest. Whether it was the beauty, or Jungkook, he couldn’t tell.

For a second, their eyes met. Their cheeks were flushed, and their eyes glistened in the morning rays.

Their hearts pounded, once, twice.

They were lost in their own universe, feeling as they had known each other for years, engulfed in a comfortable warmth.

A melody resounded in the air, carried by the wind, swirling all around them, as everything got flooded by the sun, triumphantly invading the sky.

Then, Yin’s phone abruptly rang.

They quickly separated.

“Sorry… I have to answer…”

“Y-yeah, of course, g-go on!”

Yin brought the phone to her ear.

“Yeah?”

“Hey! Why did you disappear like that? Where are you?” Mina yelled into the speaker.

Yin instinctively moved the phone a bit further from her ear, trying not to become deaf.

“I’m…”

She turned towards Jungkook, who was looking at the sunset, playing with the empty plastic cup in his hands.

“Somewhere.”

“Stop kidding! I was seriously worried! Where-”

“I’ll see you in class, bye!”

She quickly ended the call, sighing.

“History repeats itself,” Jungkook chuckled, and the girl couldn’t help but smile too.

He got up and lent his hand to the girl.

“Let’s go back.”

He looked at his phone.

“It’s almost time.”

They walked back in silence.

Thousands of thoughts were storming inside her head, and her heart was beating furiously.

And after all that had happened on that rooftop, her doubts had increased even more: she was curious about the lesson, but also scared for Jungkook. She had seen how bad his anxiety could get; she had seen the way he cried and suffered. Why had he decided to do this now that Jimin wasn’t there?

She kept worrying about it, fearing that the worst could happen. Even when her friends came into the classroom, and she had to deal with Mina’s pushy questions, she couldn’t calm down: on the contrary, her stomach twisted and clenched around nothing the more the clock drew closer to the start of the lesson.

She kept glancing at Jungkook, who was sitting at his desk, apparently calm, minding his own business like nothing had happened.

But she knew better than trust appearance. She could see how, hidden under the table, his hands were still shaking, and how he would compulsively push his glasses closer to his nose, so much so that he was probably going to leave a mark.

“Yin?”

Minji, one of her classmates called.

“Yeah?”

“Are you okay?”

Yin arched an eyebrow. “Yesh, why?”

“You look pale… are you sure you’re not… you know…”

“No, not at all. I’m fine, I tell you.”

That was the truth, but no one seemed to believe her. Did she really look sick? The sleepless night probably didn’t help.

She shrugged again and focused back on her teacher.

Her thoughts kept swinging back and forth, between the overwhelming things that had happened on the rooftop, and the fear of what was to come.

She would have liked to run to him and hug him, reassure him, tell him everything was gonna be okay. But that wouldn’t have been appropriate, would it?

Was it appropriate to hold hands with your teacher, watching the sun rise?

Yet there she was. On the tip of her fingers, she could still feel the warmth of his hand, his delicate touch, his glistening eyes.

A beautiful human being. A soul so frail, she was scared it would dissolve in her hands. And yet so fierce, and passionate, and-

She shook her head.

She slipped her phone out of her pocket.

Jungkook had given her his number the day before, so they could plan the mealtimes.

What if she wrote him something?

“Good luck with your class!”

No, too weird.

Let’s try again: “You know you don’t have to do this if it’s too much, right?”

No. She had no right to ask this. He was brave enough to do it, she shouldn’t put him off.

“Have you told Yoongi about this?”

 Was she her psychologist? What did she know, anyway? He was an adult, old enough to decide on his own, without having to consult others for everything he did.

“Are you okay?”

She thought about it for a second, but when a friend came closer, she clumsily tried to close the chat and accidentally sent it.

There was no going back now. Her heart was exploding. From the corner of the class, she watched Jungkook taking out his phone.

Oh gosh. He had read it.

Was he going to think she was weird? Or inappropriate?

“A bit nervous, but I think I can do it.”

She hid in her oversized sweater, trying not to show the blush appearing on her face. Dammit, with her pale skin it was even harder to conceal. Why was she blushing in the first place?

As the lesson began, she had mixed feelings about the text message. He was nervous. Not that she wasn’t expecting it, but it made her restless and uneasy.

“Okay, class! Quiet down! The bell has rung.”

The happy chattering reduced to murmurs, the murmurs to whispers, and soon after, the class was engulfed in utter silence.

Jungkook caught the students’ attention in a second. He was generally loved by all students, and although very rigorous, precise, and quite strict when it came to exams, nobody complained about it.

Whoever attended one of his classes would fall under his spell. You could tell he loved what he did, and that literature was more than a job for him.

“So, today…” he said as he walked around.

“I’m going to introduce you to a new author. He’s not listed in the programme, and I won’t examine you on this. Since finals are drawing close, and we’re almost at the end of our program together…”

“I want to give you this as a gift. I can’t force you to do anything, but I would like you all to take this seriously. Literature can’t be only studied in books.”

He walked, words flowing out of his lips as if he had been born to do this.

All eyes were on him.

“Literature has to be experienced, it has to be heard, spoken, breathed, sensed on our fingers, lived in our everyday life.”

“That’s the only thing that makes literature useful. What I’m asking you all to do is to put aside your studies for a second and think of the most painful moment of your life.”

Confused stares wandered around the class in search of validation.

“I’m not kidding. Try to do it. Only by doing that will you be able to experience and understand this poem.”

“I’ll do it too. This is very personal, so excuse me. I... might get emotional.”

His self-assurance wavered for a second. He cleared his throat and started passing through the desks, distributing photocopies.

When he was done, he walked back to his desk and sat on it.

He had a much more approachable demeanour, but he did not lose his authority. Everyone was hanging off his words.

“Alright. As I told you, this won’t be our usual class, so I’m going to be quick with the author introduction. Oh, and remember we’re not analysing the poem based on the author’s feelings this time. This is about you. About every single one of you, myself included. I think it won’t be hard to empathize with this.”

Yin was getting more anxious by the second, noticing how Jungkook’s hands were starting to shake.

“The author is Gustavo Adolfo Bécquer. He’s a Spanish author from the romantic age, and he basically was a really unlucky guy. By the time he was 10, he had lost both his father and mother. At 21, he contracted tuberculosis, and after a series of unhappy love stories, he died at the age of 36. Okay. Enough with him. It’s time for us to become part of this.”

Jungkook took a deep breath, and with his hands shaking, he began reading.

“Olas gigantes que os rompéis bramando

En las playas desiertas y remotas,

Envuelto entre la sábana de espumas,

¡llevadme con vosotras!

Ráfagas de huracán que arrebatáis

Del alto bosque las marchitas hojas,

Arrastrado en el ciego torbellino,

¡llevadme con vosotras!

Nubes de tempestad que rompe el rayo

Y en fuego ornáis las desprendidas orlas,

Arrebatado entre la niebla oscura,

¡llevadme con vosotras!

Llevadme por piedad a donde el vértigo

Con la razón me arranque la memoria.

¡Por piedad! ¡Tengo miedo de quedarme

Con mi dolor a solas!”

Giant waves that braying break
upon remote, deserted beaches,
wrapped in your sheets of foam,
take me with you!

Hurricane blasts that rip away
from the towering woods their withered leaves,
dragged along in your blind whirlwind,
take me with you!

Tempest clouds that the sunbeam breaks
and in fire adorn the sundered scrollwork,
wreaking havoc within the darkling haze,
take me with you!

Take me for pity’s sake to where vertigo
rips memory from me as it strips me of reason…
For pity’s sake!…. I am afraid to be left
all alone with my pain!

Jungkook stopped, taking a shaky breath.

The class was dead silent, and he found it hard to continue.

“T-this feeling… I’m sure that at least once…”

He closed his eyes.

“Calm down.” He thought. “Everything’s gonna be fine. Relax.”

He opened his eyes and looked at the class, who was staring at him, dead silent.

Some students were tearing up. Others blankly stared at the paper in front of them.

“The inclination to give yourself up to oblivion, to forget all you’ve been going through, for once.”

“The alluring desire to hand yourself over to the night.”

Yin could see it all happening before her eyes. Her pain and Jungkook’s pain. Her livid arms, the desolation, the emptiness of her dark room, the muted sobs coming from her parent’s room.

Jungkook’s screams, his body cast on the ground in the pouring rain.

She could feel that cold, violent rain hitting her back. She could hear his desperate pleas, as Jungkook spoke.

“The fear of being left alone with your despair…”

“The misery, the mute begs for the world around you to engulf you.”

“The desire to let go for once…”

She saw Jimin, swallowing one pill after another, hanging on a frail hope; Jungkook, standing on the edge of that building, ready to abandon himself to the void under him-

The girl jumped up, panting.

Jungkook’s eyes shot to the pale figure in the room's corner.

“Ms. Kim? Is everything alright?”

She looked lost. People looked at her, waiting for her to speak.

She was terribly pale.

“Ms. Kim?”

“C-can I go outside for a second?”

Jungkook’s heat skipped a beat. He cleared his throat and tried to maintain his composure.

“Of course. Do you need anyone to come with you?”

“What?”

“I said, do you need anyone to come with you?” Jungkook repeated, worried.

“Oh, n-no. I’ll be fine.”

“Then… excuse me.”

She quickly left, barely holding herself on her feet.

Jungkook followed her to the door and felt horrible when he realized he couldn’t check on her in any way. He looked at the class, who was expecting him to continue with his lesson.

“Right… where was I?”

He passed a hand through his hair.

“Obviously, life isn’t always like that. These are only moments, and the sun comes to shine on our lives after the despair of the night. I’d like you to think about what helped you to get out of this state of mind, be it yourself, a friend, a family member…” he took a pause. “Or the most unexpected starry sky.”

“You can send me your answers if you want, but you can also keep them for yourselves. As I said, I’m not gonna ask you anything about this in the exams.”

He talked a bit more, Yin always present in his mind.

Was she okay?

When the bell finally rang, he dashed out of the room, searching for her.

He had to be sure she was fine.

Not just because Jimin wasn’t there, not just because she was her student.

But because she was Yin.

Unique, special, and important.

Chapter Text

External POV

Jungkook dashed to the infirmary. He searched every room, every nook and cranny, hoping Yin would be there.

But after not finding her, he ran back into the corridor.

“Yin?”

He called as he tried to think of all the possible hiding spots. Suddenly, an idea popped up in his mind: what if she was hiding on the external stairs? They weren’t used much, but they were easily accessible from every floor. One after the other, the worst-case scenarios played in his mind as he climbed those stairs, nervously glancing upwards from time to time, hoping to catch a glimpse of the girl, hiding somewhere near the roof. Had his lesson been too much for her? Had it awoken bad memories? Maybe he shouldn’t have let her experience that. How could he have been so stupid? How irresponsible of him, now that Jimin wasn’t even here... What if the girl needed help? What if he had relapsed? Who would have come then?

Finally, almost at the top of the staircase, Yin sat on a step, knees to her chest, eyes indecipherable. He forced his exhausted legs to put in what was left of his strength.

“Jun-Mr. Jeon? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, you?” he said in between pants.

The girl pursed her lips and shrugged.

“I’ve been looking for you.”

Jungkook sat down next to her, passing a hand through his drenched hair. In hope she would talk, he waited, trying in the meantime to catch his breath.

For some reason, in the last couple days he had been much calmer when he interacted with the girl. Although his heart pounded in his chest every time he was with her, he could handle it now. Maybe it was because Jimin wasn’t there, and he had no excuse to be weak and be taken care of. He had stepped up and finally gained a bit of assurance thanks to the role he had been forced to take upon himself.

He had always thought he would have been lost without Jimin, but, despite all the struggles, maybe Jimin’s absence was helping him to get used to being an adult. Yes, it had barely been two days since Jimin had been admitted to the hospital. But somehow, he already felt quite different. If he was feeling so different already, maybe there was hope for both of them. Jimin could go back to his life, and he...  

And what about him?

It hadn’t been a complete change, of course. He was still anxious, and barely able to sleep, his mind troubled by thousands of thoughts. He still got pretty emotional, and relapses were always around the corner.

It was a small step, but it was surely one he hadn’t been able to take in years. Now Taehyung was there, everything was changing, all of a sudden.

“So, what’s the matter?”

Yin looked up at him but did not speak.

“Okay... you don’t have to speak if you don’t feel like it. Let’s... just enjoy the nice weather for a bit.” Jungkook sighed, closing his eyes.

“A-actually…”

The boy turned to look at her. When Yin lifted her eyes and saw Jungkook’s reassuring smile, she calmed down a bit.

“It was hard to listen to that poem.”

She fiddled with a strand of hair, as the wind messed with her dark locks.

“It reminded me of... stuff from my past and... that night when the rain was pouring. For a moment, in class, I was terrified you could... relapse. To think something like that could happen again... I...”

Jungkook’s lips curved into a wistful smile.

“You know... I was scared too. Thinking back on it, I think I’ve been a tad bit irresponsible. I was terrified of panicking again. But... it went well... and after having opened up like that... I feel much lighter.”

They stood in silence, letting the quiet whisper of the wind tell his tales of old, enchanted words lost in time.

“I-I’m sure you know I had a session with Yoongi.”

“Yes.”

“Well… he told me to think about it and tell him if I wanted to continue. But I was thinking: if I go there I will have to….”

She tried to ignore the lump forming in her throat.

“You know, open up about things… and I don’t know...”

“You don’t know what?”

“I-I don’t know…”

Her lips quivered.

“I don’t know if I can, I don’t know if I’m ready, or how to do that, if I have enough motivation, who I am doing it for…”

She took a shaky breath. Jungkook smiled, as he played with the hem of his shirt.

“Is that why you haven’t been sleeping the past couple of nights?”

She bit her lip.

Jungkook nodded in understanding, trying to come up with the best advice.

“I get it. Talking about things that make us suffer is always hard. Have you ever tried writing about it?”

The girl gave him a surprised look.

“No... I’ve never had the intention of bringing this stuff up in the first place. I just buried everything and thought it would be enough... but apparently, it isn’t.”

Jungkook sighed.

“I guess it’s always like that. You can never hide from your past. You can ignore it, but it will always come back to haunt you until you don’t deal with it properly.”

“I don’t know about you, but I found that sometimes writing helps me to at least put my jumbled thoughts in order. It could be the first step to opening up.”

He rubbed his neck.

“Besides... you’re telling me you don’t know how to open up, but you’re talking about this now, with me.”

She tilted her head in confusion.

“To be honest, I don’t know much either, but... you are telling me about your doubts right now… Isn’t that what opening up means? It’s hard, but you’re doing it, right?”

“Oh… that’s true.”

Jungkook smiled, relieved he had managed to get his point across.

“It’s… as simple as that, I think. You’re already doing it. It will just… take time, but you’ll be able to open up more and more.”

“I don’t want to influence you with my opinion, but I think what Yoongi’s offering you is worth trying.”

He noticed the flicker of hesitation in Yin’s eyes.

“Is it fear that’s holding you back?” Jungkook murmured.

“I know it well. I’ve been scared of my past for almost my entire life.”

His eyes darkened.

“And… well. Pain doesn’t only have to be bad. Growth can only happen through pain. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt, or that every time you suffer you grow. Not at all. I spent years… escaping the pain, like the guy in the poem. And in those years I made no progress at all. But… if you ever feel the desire to open up with anybody… don’t hold back because you think you might cry, or even panic. That’s side effects. By saying things out loud, you can learn a lot of things.”

A bell rang.

“I think it’s time to go back to class. You have other lessons too, right?”

The girl nodded.

“Let’s go then.”

Jungkook got up. He extended his hand towards the girl. She also reached out to him, but when their hands were about to touch, a sharp pain in her head forced her to draw her hand back. Suddenly, she wasn’t feeling the breeze, nor the warmth of the sun. She was in a dark room, cold, the only light being the yellow, weak halo coming from a small lamp. Choked sobs resonated in the room, as glass shards crunched under heavy steps. Someone was coming.

“Please… please…”

“Not Yin… leave her alone…” it was her mother’s voice, she was sure.

Her eyes shifted to her arms. Her hands were small, her arms thin, and covered in purple bruises. She looked up again, expecting to see Jungkook’s hand.

But to her horror, that wasn’t his hand anymore.

In front of her, a man stood, towering. His figure was black, she couldn’t see his face. But those hands, yes, she could recognize them: thick, strong, burning. Everything started to become blurry around her, as the same burning tears of many years ago rolled down her cheeks. The numbness, the aftermath of those hits crawled upon her, little by little, from the tip of her fingers extending further, up her arms, then her shoulders. She was paralyzed by fear.

“Yin?”

She stared, wide eyed.

“Yin?” Jungkook called again.

The girl was breathing erratically, eyes looking through him, rather than at him.

“Hey, hey what’s going on? Calm down…”

But as Jungkook got closer, the situation worsened.

“No, no, no no don’t come please… I’ll be quiet I swear! I will be good!”

She curled up in a ball, trembling. Jungkook stopped. What was she talking about?

“Yin.”

Gently, he placed a hand on her back. She squeaked in fear.

“Hey, it’s me, it’s Jungkook. I’m not gonna hurt you, really. I just want to help you.”

“Yin, can you hear me?”

“It’s me, Jungkook. Please, Yin, you must come back to reality.”

Jungkook slowly took one of the girl’s hands in his and started softly stroking it.

“Open your eyes, Yin. Look at me. Everything’s okay, I promise.”

Hesitant, she looked at him.

“J-Jungkook...”

“There...” He smiled.

“See? You’re safe now.”

A quiver shook her body, and before she knew it, she was desperately sobbing, Jungkook holding her tight, rubbing her back hoping to calm her down.

“Shhh... it’s all good.”

He kept whispering comforting words, as the girl cried out all her pent-up fear and sorrows as she had never done before. Relief, fear, desperation. It was all so much. But she felt safe now, in those arms, strong, but not harsh, gentle, and protective.

Finally, her breathing went back to normal. Although reluctant, she got out of the protecting embrace.

“Better?” Jungkook whispered, his voice mellow.

The girl nodded and wiped her puffy eyes.

“Y-yeah, I’m good.”

Jungkook observed her. She was almost as pale as the first time she had collapsed. He didn’t like pallor. What should he do? Could he leave her alone?

With much effort, Yin got up on her feet. Jungkook was quick to be next to her and hold her in place when she wavered for a second.

“Hey, go easy on your body.”

She nodded and let Jungkook lead her down the staircase.

“Are you sure you want to go back to class?” Jungkook asked when they had reached their floor.

“Yes, I’m better, really. It was just a moment, everything’s alright.”

Jungkook would have preferred to keep an eye on her, but he realized he was already late for his own lesson.

He sighed.

“Alright then. See you at lunch. But don’t overwork yourself, ok? Take care...”

She nodded.

“Thank you for everything. See you…”

She then left and quietly got into her classroom.

--------------------------

The rest of the day went by fairly normally, and Jungkook didn’t dare to ask anything about what had happened.

Back into his apartment, after lunch, he felt uneasy. From the sofa onto which he had collapsed soon after getting home, he stared at the ever-growing pile of essays that needed to be marked. He sighed.

“Those essays aren’t going to mark themselves on their own, are they?”

He expected to hear Jimin’s voice answering him, teasing him, or telling him how silly he was. Instead, a deafening silence spread around him. He wondered how Jimin was doing. Namjoon had told him he would call him when Jimin would wake up, so he must still be asleep. And Yin? Was she going to be okay? He took his phone, wanting to call Taehyung, but as he dialled the old number, he remembered. Taehyung had alluded to having changed phone number a long time ago, after all.

He spent the entire afternoon waiting for a call from Tae. He paced his apartment, back and forth, doubts popping up in his head. He tried to work on the essays to distract himself, but the more he forced himself to do it, the more he couldn’t focus on anything he was reading.

“Romanticism is an enormous philosophical, cultural and artistic movement that originated...”

Did Tae want to see him again? Maybe he didn’t want to, maybe he wouldn’t call after all.

“Focus Jungkook, focus.” he repetitively hit his head with his fist.

“Let’s start again... Romanticism is an enormous philosophical, cultural, and artistic...”

He must have scared Taehyung away when they met, with all his drama and sad stories. Maybe, it was better like that. Taehyung could live his life without getting involved in this mess. And what about Jimin? He wanted to go visit him, but he knew that wouldn’t have benefitted him nor Jimin. Yoongi had explicitly told him not to go see him before he woke up.

“Don’t get distracted. Romanticism is...”

He still wondered if he could have prevented that. He wondered if he could have done something to help Jimin out before it got to this point. Now that Jimin wasn’t there, he had managed many situations on his own. Maybe not perfectly, but he hadn’t relapsed or caused any major damage to anyone. If he could survive on his own, why hadn’t he done that with Jimin? Had he gotten so used to weighing on Jimin that he had stopped noticing how tired his hyung was? He felt extremely guilty, thinking that all of this could have been avoided.

Wind blew the window open, and he rushed to close it back again. He looked at the dark campus. Already eight pm, or rather, only. It had been the longest hours of his life, spent in agony, torn by doubts and unanswered questions, a burning, unexplainable excitement running down his veins.

His phone, which he had picked up so many times in hopes of finding at least a message, had been silent all day. He flopped on the sofa, staring at the empty rooms. The clock ticked in the thick silence. Some sort of grey boredom had taken over his life, painting the walls in a dull, undefinable colour. In the ghostly quiet, a buzz echoed.

Heart fluttering, Jungkook rushed to get his phone.

It was Yin. Had it been someone else, he would have felt disappointed it wasn’t Taehyung, but he was as eager to hear from Tae as Yin.

“Thank you for today. I’ve decided to try working on myself with Yoongi.”

That came as an immense relief. Her reaction today had put Jungkook on alert, and hearing that she was willing to work on whatever was troubling her made him glad, and less nervous.

“I’m happy to hear that. Are you feeling better now?”

His heart fluttered at every word, fingers tingling.

“Yes, thankfully. Those images… they bothered me for some time, but I’m mostly fine.”

Mostly?

Should he write...

Yeah, fuck it.

“Listen Yin, whatever you might need, Jimin isn’t here now, so feel free to ask me. Be it food related, health, emotional, whatever. I’ll try to do my best.”

“Thank you…”

And so, unexpectedly, the conversation ended.

He felt sort of embarrassed; he didn’t know why. Just a couple of minutes later, his phone rang again. He still hadn’t calmed his heart down when it skipped a beat once again: an unknown number. He immediately answered.

“h-hello?”

Silence.

“Hello?” he repeated anxiously.

“Jungkook… it’s me.” A voice murmured quietly from the other side.

“Taehyung!” Jungkook basically yelled into the phone.

“Yes, it’s me. Are you… busy right now?”

“No, not at all!”

“Oh, really? Then… can I come to your place?”

“Sure! When are you coming?”

“Um… now?”

Jungkook furrowed his brow.

“You mean, like… now...now? At this moment?”

“Uh… yes.”

Confused, the boy walked to the door. It would be absurd for Taehyung to be…

He swung the door open

… on the other side of the door.

Taehyung put his phone down, smiling. In his eyes, Jungkook was sure to have seen a glint of sadness.

“Hi.”

“… hi.”

Jungkook stared at him, his phone still pressed to his ear.

“Won’t you let me come in?”

“Ah, right…” Jungkook chuckled, nervous. “You surprised me. But I’m glad you’re here, I was bored as hell.”

“Me too…” He smiled.

“Uh, sit down, I’ll prepare some ramen.”

“Was the soup okay?”

Jungkook’s head appeared from the fridge door to look at Taehyung, a satisfied smile on his lips.

“Oh, the soup! It was good!”

“And look hyung…” he set a heavy pot on the table.

“Where did that thing even come from?”

“Found it in Jimin’s kitchen” Jungkook huffed, as he ran to grab a couple of bowls and spoons.

“… it’s incredible what he has in there… he could cook anything with what he has in his kitchen!”

“But anyway… I’ve tried doing it again, and it should be ready by now. Now you can taste it for me,” Jungkook giggled.

Taehyung gazed at the enormous pot, amazed.

“Why did you make so much though?”

Jungkook shrugged.

“Just felt like it. And I had too many vegetables, anyway. I had to use them all before they rotted, right?”

“I guess so” Taehyung chuckled, amused.

Jungkook offered a bowl to his hyung and waited for him to taste it.

E excitedly looked at the other’s face, but Taehyung was unreadable.

He waited, overwhelmed by a sudden nervousness.

“Soo...” he cleared his throat.

“How is it?”

Taehyung didn’t answer. He offered the bowl to Jungkook.

“Try it for yourself.”

Reluctant, Jungkook took the bowl in his hands, and tasted the soup.

“It doesn’t taste bad!” he exclaimed, hitting Taehyung.

“Why? Why are you looking at me like that? I never said it tasted bad!”

“But you... I thought you didn’t like it!” Jungkook pouted.

Taehyung chuckled, ruffling the boy’s hair.

“It doesn’t taste that bad for being the first time you cook something.”

Jungkook’s lips curved in a wide, satisfied grin. Soon after, though, he caught a glimpse of sadness in Taehyung’s eyes again.

“Hyung.”

“Hmm?”

“There’s something you’re not telling me.”

Taehyung avoided his gaze.

There were tons of things he hadn’t told him, Taehyung thought. But he couldn’t bring himself to utter a word.

“Hyung...”

Jungkook, who had been sitting on a stool, moved to the sofa, next to Taehyung.

“It’s okay. If you’re not ready, I won’t ask you anything about it. Just... I hate to see you like this. Is there something I can do for you?”

Taehyung sighed.

“I’ve seen Jimin.”

“You did?”

“I did.”

“He’s all grown up too.” Taehyung murmured, his voice quivering.

Jungkook nodded.

“... And?”

Taehyung looked at Jungkook.

“I was... happy to see him. He was asleep obviously, and didn’t look exactly healthy, but he’s alive, at least...”

“Yeah...”

“Have you visited him, Kook?”

Taehyung asked.

Jungkook shook his head.

“I think that would hurt me more than help. I would like to see him but seeing him pale and asleep wouldn’t do me any good, nor would it make a difference to Jimin.”

“I see.”

“Maybe... When he wakes up, we can go see him together...”

“Or… maybe not...” Jungkook said, looking at the terror in Taehyung’s eyes.

“I-it’s complicated.”

“Do you feel like talking about it?” Jungkook carefully eyed his friend.

“I…”

Taehyung bit his lower lip, his eyes glued to the floor.

“Sorry, I just…”

“Don’t feel comfortable talking about this stuff.” Jungkook finished for him.

He could tell Taehyung felt guilty.

“It’s okay hyung, I understand. You don’t have to tell me anything.”

He smiled, trying his best not to show how much he actually suffered because of Taehyung’s reluctance to open up. Tae had been the one who had helped him out of his extreme shyness, and now he wouldn’t speak honestly with him. It hurt, it definitely hurt a lot. But he couldn’t do anything about it, could he? Maybe Taehyung had suffered a lot, unbeknownst to him, maybe it had been too long since they had seen each other.

Maybe it was impossible to get their old relationship back. Too much had happened, too many sorrows had weighed on their hearts. Now they were there, one next to the other, from family to strangers.

Although Taehyung couldn’t open up, Jungkook still felt the desire to stay with him, to have someone to rely on, to have him back as a friend.

“You know… today… I’ve done something I had never done before.”

Taehyung lifted his eyes from the soup he had been playing with and looked at his friend.

“I… you remember the girl I told you about, right?”

“Yes… what was her name?”

“Yin”

“Oh, right.”

Jungkook sighed.

“I don’t know what’s happening, hyung…”

“What do you mean? Is her illness worsening?”

Jungkook shook his head. “Not at all. She’s getting better. Yesterday she even finished her food for the first time. She’s considering starting a series of sessions with Yoongi because of her past traumas too. Today she had some sort of panic attack when she was with me. I don’t know what triggered it.”

He let out a sigh and leaned back on the sofa.

“But that’s not the point. This morning… I was kind of nervous, as I wanted to show the class a poem that really hit home for me. It struck some chords the first time I read it, and I wanted to show that to my students. But you know… I was terrified. What if I panicked? What if I couldn’t handle it? Jimin isn’t here to babysit me now and…”

Maybe Jungkook shouldn’t have mentioned Jimin.

“A-anyway… that’s not the point either. I’m so bad at telling stuff… Literature teacher for what?” he nervously chuckled.

Taehyung observed him, curious. On Jungkook’s cheeks, a light flush had appeared.

“What is it, Kook?”

The boy pursed his lips. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

All in one go, he told to himself. Quick and painless.

… more or less.

“I- It’s just that I don’t know, this morning I was nervous and asked her if she wanted to get a coffee with me because- because it was too early and I hadn’t slept at night, a-and she said yes, so we went there and I brought her in a place that was r-really special to me a-and we watched the sun rise and I don’t know why but at some point we began holding hands and I had this sudden urge to tell her about t-the darkest times in my life and t-then her phone buzzed and m-my heart was beating so fast and- and then when she panicked I held her tight in my arms and it felt so right but… “

Jungkook suddenly jumped up from the sofa, restless, hands nervously fiddling with a tiny ring he had on his finger.

“And I- I don’t know what’s going on! I-is it normal hyung? Is it normal for...”

He paced up and down the room.

“… For a teacher to be like this? Am I allowed to? Do other people…”

“Ugh!”

He flopped back down on the sofa, dragging his hands down his face in frustration, as his cheeks turned a dark shade of red.

He peered at Taehyung from in between his fingers.

“What is this, hyung? It just makes me so confused, I can’t rest, I’m always on edge and I don’t know if that’s because of my problems, because of what happened, or…”

Taehyung placed a hand on Jungkook’s leg, which was nervously bouncing up and down.

“Hey kook… Calm down…”

Jungkook took his hands off his face and looked at Taehyung.

“What’s wrong with me hyung? What is this?”

Taehyung tenderly smiled, patting his friend’s head, trying to refrain from chuckling.

“Kookie…”

“What?”

“...is this the first time you fall in love?”

Chapter Text

External POV

“Mr. Park?”

“Mr. Park, can you hear me?”

After a couple of calls, Jimin opened his eyes. Everything was excessively bright, and he felt heavy. There was someone sitting next to him, talking. But what was she saying? He could hardly see, let alone make sense of what was going on.

Wait, where was he? Everything was bleary around him, but he was sure that it wasn’t his apartment.

It took him no time to recognize the aseptic, bare room.

He was at Namjoon’s hospital.

“Mr. Park?”

Slowly, he turned his head towards who he presumed was a nurse.

At the back of his head, a dull ache was making itself more present every minute that passed. Everything took a lot of effort, from breathing to moving his eyes.

His body felt heavy, as if someone had run over him with a truck, and he just wanted to go back to sleep. Never had he experienced such disorientation before. Everything was in slow motion, and every word spoken by that nurse made little to no sense in his mind, to the point that if he hadn’t been so dazed, he would have gotten scared.

A door opened, or so he thought; he didn’t bother putting in the extra effort to turn his head towards the direction of the sound.

“Let me take care of it, Hye Jeong.” A soft voice said.

Suddenly, someone who suspiciously looked a lot like Namjoon appeared in his field of view.

The nurse left the seat, and Namjoon sat down. He pointed a light at Jimin’s eyes, and he squeezed them shut.

“Sorry about that. Seems like you’re awake. You know where you are, right?”

Jimin absently gazed at him, sleep being the only jumbled thought that occupied his mind.

“… you’re still quite dazed. You are in the hospital.” He spoke slowly, pausing after every word to make sure Jimin followed.

“I know…”

Jimin’s voice came out much groggier than he had expected. Only then did he realize how much his throat actually hurt.

He tried swallowing to ease the pain, but it did no good. He grimaced and squeezed his eyes shut, coughing a couple of times. His throat felt sore and swollen, to the point that for a second, he thought he couldn’t breathe properly.

When he opened his eyes once again, there was a bottle of some sort of liquid in front of him, with a straw in it.

“Drink a bit, this will help you.”

Jimin coughed again, and Namjoon helped him to take a sip. It tasted weird, but that wasn’t something he could really complain about now, could he?

“There you go. Do you think you can stay awake a bit longer for me?”

Jimin rolled his eyes.

Namjoon chuckled. “I know you just want to go back to sleep, but I need to examine you first. I’ll be quick, I promise. Besides, you’ve been asleep for the past two days.”

Jimin frowned.

“I’ll tell you more on that later. Let’s get the check-up done first.”

Jimin didn’t care about check-ups, nor what day it was. In that moment, he just felt as if he hadn’t slept in days, and only wanted to pass out and rest for a good while.

Still, he managed to stay awake, only dozing off here and there, until everything was done.

“Okay. I’ll briefly tell you what’s going on. I’ll expand more on that when you’re less tired. So, basically you’ve gone into-”

“Oh.”

Namjoon stopped, when he noticed Jimin was already far into dreamland. Lips slightly parted, he was sleeping peacefully, without a care in the world.

Namjoon smiled, tucking him in the bed.

“I guess we’ll keep talking for later. Don’t be confused, it always happens with this kind of problems. Overdose is extremely hard on the body; it usually takes them more than two days to gain enough strength to stay awake.”

Namjoon said to the nurse.

“How many weeks has it been since you came here?”

“Two weeks, sir.”

“You can call me Namjoon, there’s no need for such formalities.”

The nurse nodded.

“And in these two weeks, you have seen no overdose patient yet, right?”

“Mr. Park is the first.”

Namjoon sighed.

“Jimin won’t be your last, I’m afraid. We’ve been getting more and more young people coming here, their life on the line because of this. It’s a sad thing to see, but school has been progressively putting more pressure on these kids. They take pills to stay awake and get better grades. It works, at first. But one pill becomes two, two become three, and before they know it, they’re having terrible cramps and aches and they’re brought to us.”

He patted her shoulder.

“Working at a hospital can get exhausting too; but never try to solve the problem like that. It only creates addiction, and it can ruin you for good.”

“I won’t, I promise.”

“Good.” Namjoon glanced at Jimin’s bedside table, where a box of pills stood.

He picked them up and handed them to the girl.

“Do you recognize them?”

The girl squinted, twirling the rounded container between her fingers.

“I’m not sure, but… these seem to be pretty strong painkillers.”

“You are correct. And he was taking up to two or three pills every day.”

The nurse frowned.

“That’s well above the recommended dosage.”

“You are correct, once again.” Namjoon sighed, passing a hand over his face. He glanced at the boy sleeping soundly, exhausted. A hint of helplessness glimmered in his eyes.

“He… should have been taking them only in extreme cases, only if his migraines got to a point that they were unbearable. But since he never wanted to acknowledge he was overworking his body, the migraines intensified, and his organism actually started developing some sort of resistance to this medicine.”

He played with the small box in his hands, bitterly.

“… which means he was taking larger quantities of it, and it wasn’t working as it should have. And... he took one too many.”

Namjoon quickly slid the box in his pocket.

“It’s especially hard for me with this patient. He’s one of my childhood friends, and seeing him like this…”

He took a deep breath.

“I feel guilty, because I should have been the one to check more thoroughly and make sure he wasn’t going above the prescribed dosage. But it’s always like that. You better get used to it: most of the times it’s the people you care about that you can’t help. It happens all the time, and it’s part of our job. It hurts, but you kind of get used to it. I’m glad I was at least able to save him from death. I cannot guarantee he won’t do it again, though.”

Hye Jeong was gazing at Jimin.

“But that’s enough with the depressing stuff.” He placed a hand on the girl’s shoulder.

“Hye Jeong?”

To the call, she looked back. Namjoon reassured her with a warm smile.

“Let’s give him some time. He’ll wake up later in the day. We still have some work to do, come.”

Reluctantly, the girl followed, and left the room.

-------------------

Warmth. He felt cold, but his right hand was warm, as if somebody was holding it. Still fluctuating in a deep, dreamless sleep, Jimin could feel something was happening around him. What exactly, he couldn’t tell.

It was light at first. A soft whisper. But gradually, the feelings got more intense, more real than something out of a dream. The velvety silence turned into a repetitive, stinging beeping.

All senses sharpened, and he started coming out of his torpor.
He half expected to be blinded by Namjoon’s light again, but instead, he couldn’t tell whether he had opened his eyes or not. It was pitch-black all around him. Empty, cold, and scary.

He sharply inhaled, which didn’t prove to be such a great idea since his irritated throat immediately caused him to get into a coughing fit. Hands out of the dark were quick to help him sit up and held him as he helplessly shook.

“Who-”

“It’s me, hyung, it’s Jungkook…”

Jimin would have liked to say something, but the violent coughing was leaving him breathless.

“Hyung, try to calm down, or it’s gonna get worse. Close your mouth, breathe through your nose, shallow, short inhales.” Jungkook whispered.

Jimin was getting teary. He could hardly understand what was going on.

“No, no, hyung, do it like this. I know it sounds stupid, but don’t take deep breaths”

Seeing how Jimin wasn’t listening, Jungkook resorted to another method. He patted the bedside table, knocking off some stuff. He heard a tinkling sound. Not that he cared at the moment. He finally found the warm tea he had prepared for Jimin, and, with a straw, he made his friend sip some of it.

Finally, Jimin’s coughing fit diminished, and in a matter of minutes, it was completely gone.

Jungkook adjusted the pillows behind Jimin’s back, so he could sit up a bit more.

Jimin’s throat was on fire, and his chest hurt after coughing so much. Jungkook wiped a thin layer of sweat that had formed on his hyung’s forehead.

“Jungkook… are you okay?” Jimin asked in a mere whisper.

“Don’t talk hyung. Your throat is still quite sore from the gastric lavage.”

The room was flooded in darkness. They could barely see each other, but Jungkook was glad. Jimin must have been sickly pale. He couldn’t handle seeing that all over again. Not now.

“Are you awake enough to listen to me?”

“Oh, just answer with your head.” He added.

Jimin nodded, although still quite dazed.

“Then I’ll tell you what happened.”

The younger held Jimin’s hand, bracing himself.

“Um… about three days ago, you remember we talked in your apartment, right?”

Jimin vaguely remembered entering the apartment and seeing Jungkook, but the rest was lost in the darkness. Still, he nodded.

“I don’t know how much you can recall, but you took too many painkillers and collapsed. The doctors said it was… overdose.”

Jungkook gulped, trying to ease the tension that was forming in his throat.

“I…”

His lips quivered.

“I had never realized how scary it was… for the people around me, when I tried to kill myself. To see you like that… s-so pale… a-and… then in the ambulance all those doctors doing stuff, and we didn’t know i-if you would survive and…”

A tear rolled down his trembling chin.

“I’m so sorry hyung!”

Jungkook dropped his head on the mattress, next to Jimin’s hand, which he was still holding. He sobbed desperately, repeating incomprehensible apologies.

So that was what had happened.

Gently, Jimin freed his hand from Jungkook’s tight grip, and tenderly petted Jungkook’s head, passing his hand through his dark strands. Soon enough, his face was wet with tears too. He hated to see Jungkook cry, especially if it was his fault.

He still remembered what an agony it had been for him to see Jungkook on the brink of death so many times, to wait endlessly for the ambulance to come. It broke his heart to think that because he couldn’t handle his body, Jungkook had been forced to go through that terrible experience himself.

They stood for a while, both crying and feeling guilty towards each other, thinking they should have done more.

A question burned in Jungkook, so much so, that he managed to pull himself together. He wiped his puffy cheeks, and still sniffling, he finally talked.

“But hyung… how did you get to this point? I c-can’t believe I didn’t notice… why did you… hide it?”

Jimin bit his lower lip. What could he say? He didn’t know either. It had just happened. He had learned to push on and on, tired or energized. He had learned how to keep his exhaustion at bay, how to ignore it. Life had just gone on, pill after pill. And suddenly he had woken up here, in a hospital bed, feeling as if all the tiredness of the past decade had abruptly caught up with him.

He extended his arms towards Jungkook, and the boy got the message. Jungkook held Jimin in a soothing embrace and said nothing.

When they finally let go, he noticed Jimin was trying to speak.

“Wait hyung” Jungkook handed him his phone.

“Just text me. This way, you don’t have to speak.”

Jimin rolled his eyes, but finally accepted.

Jungkook’s phone buzzed.

“Are you okay? How are you coping with your ptsd? Have you been eating well? And what about sleeping?”

Jungkook sadly smiled. “Of course, it would be that… Yes mom, I’m all good.” He chuckled.

“Jokes, aside hyung, I’ve been doing well, I even made some progress. You don’t have to worry about me. What matters now is that you take a rest and get better.”

Jungkook’s phone buzzed again.

“Have you really, really been well? No panic attacks or anything? No pills? Are you lying to me?”

“You write more than if you were actually talking…No, I’m not lying to you. I really had no problems at all, I swear.”

This time, Jimin seemed to be convinced. Then he remembered something.

“And Yin? Who’s been having lunch with her? Yoongi?”

A shy smile appeared on Jungkook’s lips.

“Me!” he whispered.

“YOU-” Jimin shut his mouth before he could speak more. He typed on his phone. “YOU DID WHAT?”

A proud grin appeared on Jungkook’s lips. “I even made the soup hyung, the one you always prepare. And it tasted nice!”

Jimin looked at his friend in disbelief.

“You cooked too?”

“Yes! Oh! And Yin finished her soup. She has, for the past two days, actually.”

“You mean to tell me all of this happened in TWO DAYS? And you did all of this, and you didn’t panic? All by yourself? Are you kidding me?”

“Do you think I would joke about something like this hyung?”

Jungkook was right. But Jimin couldn’t believe Jungkook really hadn’t had any problems, not even when having lunch with Yin.

How long had it been? Two weeks? At the convention, Jungkook had gone crazy just by seeing Yin struggling with food. And now he was even cooking? He, who had never even cut a tomato? How crazy was that?

“About this, hyung…”

Maybe it was better to talk with Yoongi before addressing the real problem there.

“Uh, nothing. I just… I’m happy to see you awake. I missed you.”

“Me too…” Jimin whispered.

He coughed again, and Jungkook made him drink more.

“Don’t talk hyung, come on… is it so hard to understand?”

Jimin shrugged.

“When can I come back home?” he texted.

“They don’t know yet, hyung. They said you have to stay here at least a week.”

“A WEEK? Why so long though??”

Jungkook got serious.

“You know just how much damage you did to your body, right hyung? You could have died.”

Jimin bit his lip.

“Besides… Those painkillers you were taking are strong. You knew, right? You’re a nurse, you couldn’t possibly not know this.”

“I knew…”

“Then you know they could have… badly damaged your liver, right?”

“I just never thought I would come to this point.”

“But you knew.”

“Yes.”

Jungkook sighed.

“I know I’m not exactly the right person to lecture anyone after what I’ve done to myself in the past, but…”

Jungkook let out a shaky breath.

“But you’re doing the same things I did. And you knew what you were doing was risky. Now… they have to run tests to see if your liver is damaged beyond repair and…”

“I’m sorry. I won’t do it ever again.”

Jungkook shook his head. “I know those words too well, hyung. There’s an abyss between those words and actually not doing those things anymore.”
“But I promise you I won’t!”

“No hyung, don’t promise me anything. Even if you’re utterly convinced, you’ll regret it as soon as your migraines come back. Relying on pills is dangerous, and I know it well. I don’t want promises. The only thing I want is for you to trust me in this, because I will be there for you, hyung. We’ll work through it together, as you did with me.”

Jimin looked down. He held onto his phone, fingers hovering over the keyboard for a while.

“Is this how you’ve been feeling all this time? … This fear of feeling too much pain and not knowing how to deal with it?”

Jungkook shook his head, eyes glistening with unshed tears.

“Yes, but not always… You were there with me through it all. It was scary, but I wasn’t alone. And you don’t have to be either, hyung. I won’t let that happen.”

Jimin tightly gripped his bedsheets, thinking of how in all those years, despite his best efforts, he hadn’t understood anything. Jungkook had really been through hell, and somehow, even staying by his side 24/7, Jimin couldn’t even have imagined just how terrible it had been for Jungkook.

“Hyung. Stop running on guilt. Your life shouldn’t have been taking care of me. And it doesn’t have to, not from now on. You’re not only my personal nurse or something. You are my friend, my only family, the person I trust the most in this entire world, and… most important of all, you are Jimin, that’s it. You are you, and it’s time you acknowledge your needs too.”

“Please Jimin… let go… let go of this role, just for once… just tell me what is going on. I want to be there for you, but how can I if you hide yourself behind this stupid character?”
Jimin, however, shook his head.

“I can’t. This is who I am. These are the choices I made.”

Jungkook sighed in frustration.

“I don’t care whatever deal with the devil you made, that prevents you from giving some credit to yourself and actually taking a break, this can’t go on like this.”
Jungkook sat on the bed, next to Jimin, arms crossed.

“What are you doing? I told you there’s nothing you can do.” He wrote.

“I’m not leaving until you let go of this stupid role.”

Jimin diverted his gaze.

“For God’s sake, Jimin!”

Jimin flinched at the yell, eyes squeezed shut.

“I’m not asking you to ditch your job or something! I’m just asking you to consider your needs for one night! Only one night! Please, just tell me what you’re feeling one damn time! Just tell me something! How are you feeling? What are you feeling?”

Jimin stared at Jungkook, desperation in his eyes.

Tears rolled down his cheeks one after another.

“I’m… tired…” Jimin finally whispered, bursting into sobs.

Jungkook tightly held the sobbing boy in his arms, letting him cry and cry. Jimin was tightly gripping Jungkook’s shirt, letting out all the frustration he had never expressed in so many years.

Jungkook rubbed his back in circular motions. He felt so bad for his hyung, but he was also happy. This was a good sign. He had opened a small breach in Jimin’s sturdy defence.
How many years, just how many had he been holding in all this? He was weeping like a child, his head pressed against Jungkook’s chest, sobbing relentlessly.

Jungkook could only imagine how devastating it must have been for Jimin. Taking care of him, being always on edge knowing Jungkook would do something stupid, abandoning his dream career because of him. He had annihilated himself, ignored his needs to the point that he barely understood or cared about what he felt. He had pushed on, and on denying himself even the tiny things he could have had for himself. He had chosen a career he didn’t want, studied years on end, just to help him.

“Hyung… just how much did you give up for me?”

Jungkook softly whispered, caressing Jimin’s hair.

“I can’t scold you for what you did. I can’t tell you what to do. The only thing I can say is… thank you hyung. I would have never come this far without you.”

Jimin only cried harder to that, finally letting out all the tension.

“I know I will never be able to repay you for what you did for me, but… I want to try. Don’t hide your feelings anymore, hyung. Even if it’s painful, even if the only thing you’re feeling is pain, and fear, I want to share that with you, as you did with me. Thank you hyung. Thank you for everything.”

---------------------------------------------

When Jimin opened his eyes the next morning, Jungkook was gone. Instead, Namjoon was there, smiling at him.

“Where’s Kook?”

He groggily asked, stretching himself.

“Jungkook went home this morning, just a couple of hours ago. You both had fallen asleep yesterday, and I didn’t have the heart to wake you two up.”

“Your throat seems to be better. How are you feeling?”

“Sore and tired. But not as much as yesterday for sure.”

“Good. This is Hye Jeong, one of the new nurses.”

Jimin now noticed that next to Namjoon, a small girl was standing.

“She was here yesterday too; I don’t know if you remember.”

Jimin scratched his head.

“I’m sorry. I must have been quite dazed. Nice to meet you. I’m Jimin.” He smiled, slightly bowing his head for what his pose in bed allowed him.

“N-nice to meet you.”

“Okay. So Jimin, we’re gonna need to get some tests done, to see if there’s any damage to your liver or anywhere else.” Namjoon said.

“Okay. Assuming the tests go well, when will I be able to leave?”

“Probably a week, more or less.”

“A week from when I was admitted or…”

“A week from now.” Namjoon gave him a look that resembled his mother’s when he tried to get away with something.

“Well, I had to try…” Jimin shrugged.

“We need to take blood samples now. Hye Jeong, will you take care of it?”

“O-of course.”

The girl prepared everything on the table and sat down next to Jimin.

“Oh right! I forgot the papers to sign. I’ll be back in a minute. Hye Jeong, I leave him to you.”

“U-um yes!” the girl replied, as Namjoon exited the room.

The girl took a deep breath and started working.

“Don’t be scared of tightening the tourniquet. It’s always best to have it a bit tighter than this.”

Jimin murmured, observing the girl’s movements.

“Oh, right…”

She took blood samples.

How cute, Jimin thought. She was nervous. It had been like that for him too, the first year of being a nurse.

“We’re done.” The girl sighed, relieved.

“It seems like it’s more a relief for you than me,” Jimin chuckled.

“Is it the first time you do it out of med school?”

Hye Jeong’s cheeks turned bright red.

“I-I’ve done it four or five times by now. But… you know… I’m still scared. I thought I was gonna hurt you.”

Jimin smiled, lifting his arm. “You didn’t, though. My arm is fine, see? You should be more confident in your abilities; you have a very gentle hand. It’s unlikely you’re gonna hurt somebody.”

“Ah, t-thank you.”

Namjoon entered the room with papers in his hand.

“I’m back. Was she good?”

Jimin smiled. “You have a really talented student here. I didn’t feel any pain.”

“Good. Here I have some paperwork you should sign. It’s for the hospitalization consent. I had Jungkook sign it for you when you came in, but I need your signature too.”

He handed Jimin the papers. He briefly read them and signed. When he got to the last one, he stopped.

He glanced at Namjoon, arching an eyebrow.

“Is this really necessary hyung? I’m not an addict, you know.”

“You’re not obliged to sign that. But I’m trying to offer you support in every way I can. What will you do when the migraines come back? Because they will, if you don’t change your lifestyle, and even if you do change it, the migraines will keep coming for some time.”

“I won’t take the painkillers again hyung, I’m not stupid.”

“I’m not saying you’re stupid, but that battling migraines like yours after being used to relying on painkillers is definitely harder without support.”

Jimin looked down.

“Let’s… Okay, hear me out Jimin-ah. Don’t sign it if you don’t want to, but keep it, and tell me if you change your mind.”

Jimin didn’t answer, but at least he didn’t refuse.

“Good. Lunch is coming in an hour. You haven’t eaten in three days, so try to be careful and not eat too much, or your body will reject it.” Namjoon said. He then took back the papers Jimin had signed and checked them.

“Hye Jeong. Let’s keep him on nutrients for another day, remember to come to change the IV bag.”

“Yes!” The girl scribbled something on her agenda and slipped it back in her pocket.

“You can start walking whenever you feel strong enough. Be careful of any sign of an incoming migraine though. If something like that happens, call for help, okay?”

Jimin nodded.

“See you later then, we’re going.”

Jimin was left in bed, staring at the ceiling.

Now that he thought about it, there had never been a time in his life where he was supposed to rest for a week straight. What was he going to do? What did he like? What was he supposed to do?

And most of all, how could he rest knowing that Jungkook was on his own, exposed to countless triggers? A full week… seven days forced to stay there and wait. Wait for what? What was going to change? It’s not like he was magically going to be free. Jungkook needed help, Yin too.

Jimin didn’t see why everyone seemed so angry about the whole situation and so disappointed in how Jimin had handled it. What was he supposed to do? One cannot eat his cake and keep it. He had sacrificed himself, and so what?

All this talk about handling it together… okay, he got it, but still he saw no point in fighting so much to get him a life.

Jimin looked at the paper on his bed.

“I’m not an addict” He sourly murmured.

“I knew exactly what I was doing. I just chose Jungkook over me.”

He placed the paper on his bedside table. In the corner of his eye, he saw something on the ground. Was that his silver bracelet? They must have taken it off during the procedures.

“Wait… no.”

As he extended his hand towards it, his own bracelet slid down onto his wrist.

Jimin’s heart skipped a beat.

That wasn’t his bracelet. There were two.

He picked it up and carefully examined it. It was identical, he was sure; he knew whose bracelet was that. It had been him who had gifted it to him.

Without thinking twice, Jimin grabbed his IV-line pole and dashed to the door.

He stood there, panting, staring at the almost empty corridor.

“Mr. Park? Is everything alright?” Hye Jeong happened to be still around there and had walked out of the room she had been in when she had heard a door violently opening.

Jimin was tightly clutching the bracelet in his fist, eyes teary, weakly holding the IV pole.

He couldn’t believe it. Where, when, why? Why? When had Taehyung come? Where had he been all this time?

“Mr. Park?”

But Jimin wasn’t listening. He was looking around, panting heavily. Where? Where was Taehyung?

Everything was so overwhelming.

His head was hazy, and sounds came muffled to his ears.

“Mr. Park? Can you hear me?”

Jimin’s tight grip on the bracelet started to loosen, and so did his grip on reality. Breathless, he stared at the world spinning around him.

“Mr. Park!”

Chapter Text

External POV

“Mr. Park!”

His legs gave out, and he watched the ceiling get further and further away from him, as his ears started ringing.

Before Jimin could fall on the ground, Namjoon, who had just arrived, caught him.

“Jimin!”

“What is going on?” Namjoon stared at the boy, laying almost unconscious in his arms.

“I don’t know, he came out of his room, and was very agitated and then...”

Namjoon noticed how heavily Jimin was breathing and heard the soft sobs and incomprehensible mumbles that escaped his lips.

“Let’s carry him back to his bed; we’ll see what we can do. Come on, give me a hand!”

Laying down, Jimin gazed at the blurry images that moved around him, wondering why everyone was being so loud all of a sudden.

“Jimin, Jimin can you hear me?”

The boy could barely keep his eyes open, but still wouldn’t give up, would tightly hold the silver bracelet in his fist.

“He isn’t just exhausted from the sudden effort… “

Namjoon pointed out.

“He’s anxious. There’s something bothering him.”

“Jimin! You have to calm down, please, listen to me.”

The words finally came through to the desperate boy.

“W-where is he?” he murmured, breathless, eyes closed.

“Who?”

“Where’s Taehyungie? When d-did he come?”

Namjoon arched an eyebrow. “Taehyung? I haven’t heard of him in years. Jimin, come back to your senses. What are you saying?”

He placed a hand over Jimin’s forehead, but he didn’t have a fever.

“I tell you he was here, I-I’m sure!”

Namjoon glanced at the monitor, where Jimin’s heartbeat was skyrocketing.

“Jimin, stop talking nonsense. You have to calm down, your heartrate is-”

“I’m telling the truth! I swear, he was here! Where’s Tae? You have to tell me!” With all the strength he had, he had sat up and was desperately grabbing Namjoon’s arms.

“Jimin! For God’s sake, calm down!”

Hye Jeong watched, terrified, unable to do anything.

Jimin was looking at Namjoon with desperation in his eyes.

“I have to see him, I have to…”

“You’re not going anywhere now, not in this state. Lay back down, Jimin.”

“But I need to…” exhausted, Jimin’s grip weakened. Hadn’t it been for Namjoon, Jimin would have fallen to the floor.

With a soft gasp, he collapsed, falling limp over Namjoon, who held him up.

“Jimin! Hye Jeong, don’t stand there like that, come, and help me!”

They tried to speak to him, but it was all useless. Jimin was furious, anxious, couldn’t stay still; but at the same time, his weakened body couldn’t keep up, and between sobs and murmurs, still tightly holding Taehyung’s bracelet, he fell back asleep.

--------------------------------

“T-try to live your life to the fullest… and… be happy, okay? I… won’t bother you anymore.”

“G-goodbye, Jimin-ah…”

“Taehyung!”

Jimin woke up with a gasp. Sweaty and on the verge of crying, he looked around. He was alone. He sighed, passing a hand through his hair.

Was that a dream? Or had Taehyung really visited him? Was what he remembered before falling asleep even real?

The beeping of the monitor next to him caught his attention. He stared back at it and noticed just how rapidly his heart was beating.

“I have to calm down…” he repeated to himself, as he tried to control his breathing.

But no matter what he did, nothing helped him to stray from his thoughts.

“Think rationally: is it possible that Taehyung has come?”

Obviously, the answer would be no; he had left many years ago and was nowhere to be found. What would be the odds of him being in Seoul and magically finding out he was here?

But what about the bracelet? Right, the bracelet. Where was it? He looked under the bedsheets, and the pillow, but when he didn’t find it anywhere, he started to think it all had been a dream.

But he wasn’t crazy. He was sure he had held it in his hand, compared it to his own, red the inscription inside it, which said “hello my alien.” He had bought and personalized those bracelets himself.

But now, it was gone. His own was still on his wrist, as it always was. It was only Taehyung’s that was missing.

“Okay, let’s calm down; there must be a rational explanation for this.”

He took a deep breath. Yeah, but what explanation? Who would take a bracelet just because? Could he have dropped it? He was sure he had held it in his fist strongly enough, though.

He shook his head. He wasn’t calmer, at all, and he was starting to feel the fatigue of all this sudden stress overwhelming him. He knew the signs, and he felt like he couldn’t breathe. If he wanted to avoid a full-blown panic attack, he’d better calm down.

For his own sake, he needed to stop trying to piece together this messy puzzle.

If Taehyung had really come, as he was sure he had, there would have been time to look for him after he was better, out of here.

And what if he had left and would never return?

But what could he do, anyway? It’s not like he could run out of hospital in his current condition and search for a ghost he only knew the name of.

He had to focus on recovery first.

“Yes, recovery. That’s what I have to do now. I must put all my effort into getting better and…”

Life wasn’t so straightforward though.

It was obvious he couldn’t resort to painkillers anymore, but what was he going to do with the migraines? And Jungkook? He had to look after him; he had to make sure he was okay. And Yin? Jungkook might be okay now, but what if he relapsed? Who would help Yin then?

He shook his head.

“Recovery.” He repeated to himself.

“I just have to think about that, I’ll figure out everything else as I go.”

Annoyed, he took the pulse reader off. That constant beeping was only making him more nervous.

He stared at the room, looking for distractions.

He sat up. Maybe opening the window and feeling the fresh afternoon breeze would have helped him.

This time, he took much more time and patience to adjust to every position, until he was on his feet, the IV pole still next to him. He slowly walked towards the window.

He could feel the weariness growing at every step and wondered how he had managed to leap forward so quickly just a couple of hours before.

He opened the window and looked out. The sun was shining, and people were walking in the green garden filled with flowers of all kinds. He sighed.

All those people looked so happy and carefree. How could they?

He, behind a glass window, felt divided from them. As if he hadn’t been destined to that life. Happiness, big dreams… they had never been for him, right? He was feeling cold, kept in a bare room, trapped in his misery.

If he couldn’t reach that happiness, he might as well stop looking at it.

He shut the window and drew the curtains, and then carefully walked back to his bed, more upset than before. He laid back down, although he wasn’t sleepy at all. He faced the white wall, giving his back to the cheerful life outside.

As his eyes wandered through the emptiness of his discouragement, he noticed a bag next to his bed. He didn’t do anything at first; he just passively looked at it, lost in his thoughts.

But after he had examined every imperfection and every fold of that plastic bag with his eyes, he finally extended an arm towards it.

It was kind of heavy. Inside it there were many things, like magazines, some of his pyjamas and things he might have wanted to read if he was bored. There were even some of Jungkook’s favourite books, which he had uselessly recommended to Jimin times and times before, getting no response from him.

“Try to read this. I swear if you listen to me this time, you’re gonna thank me for years!”

Was this book propaganda ever going to end? He smiled to himself.

But what caught Jimin’s attention was the small box sealed with a golden ribbon. He opened it.

To his surprise, there was another clear box inside, with a piece of paper on top of it, which covered the content of whatever was inside it.

“Let’s go to a café together, hyung!”

It was Jungkook’s handwriting. He took the paper off, and he saw the box was filled with pictures.

What a weird way to gift pictures, he thought.

He took the photos out of the clear plastic box.

In the first one, the same box contained a delicious-looking slice of cake. On the bottom corner, a sticker had been placed, with an arrow that pointed to the back of the picture. He turned it, and he saw Jungkook’s handwriting.

“I would have brought you the cake, but Namjoon told me I couldn’t. I had already bought it, so it was a shame to throw it away… and I ate it! It was delicious though; we have to go back there, and I’ll buy you the entire cake!”

Jimin giggled. What the heck was this?

He looked at the second photo. It was a photo of Jungkook sporting his bunny smile, crumbs on his chin and lips.

“Maybe an entire cake is too much, though… I feel so full just after the five slices I ordered…”

Five? This guy was unbelievable.

The next picture showed the display cabinets filled with mouth-watering cakes and pastries of all sorts, all meticulously organized and finely decorated.

“You have only one minute to select your fighter; which one will you choose?”

Next, a selfie. Jungkook, with a serious expression, pointing at one cake.

“Were you looking at this one? Sorry, I already chose it. Try again. This is mine.”

Another one, pretty similar, with Jungkook acting surprised, next to another cake.

“Oh, wait! This is mine too! Did I say you had to choose only one fighter? Well, it doesn’t matter. I can do what I want because I know people in high places…”

Then, a photo of a cake really up high in the display cabinet, Jungkook’s face visible only from the eyes up, which were looking at the cake.

“… or maybe I know CAKES in high places…”

Jimin was smiling widely by now. He could imagine Jungkook taking all these weird pictures while everyone around him looked at him go crazy with his phone.

The next photo was more normal: a drink, with a slice of a different cake next to it.

Another cake?!

“For your information, yes, I ate six different slices of cake all in one sitting. But that’s not what matters. I figured you must have gotten thirsty after seeing all that food. You haven’t? Well, I have. I tried to make this picture ‘pretty and aesthetic,’ like all the instagrammers do nowadays!”

Just how many pictures had he shot?

Another one… an iced coffee.

“I know I already drank something, but… I had countless essays to mark… I needed energy, right? It’s not my fault if I have to work so much!”

Then, the picture of a corridor.

“Bathroom break. Then I swear I’ll get started on the essays.”

Finally, a picture of him working on the students’ homework.

“All done! Just kidding… the first one of 50 is done… ugh”

A picture of the dark streets outside.

“It was still afternoon when I started… I swear it’s all the essays’ fault!”

Jimin’s apartment. Why would he take a picture of that?

“Ahhhh, home sweet home… well... your home!”

Jimin was surprised to see Jungkook posing next to his biggest pot.

“I borrowed this big boy right here… hope you don’t mind! I have soups to cook!”

And there was the last one. Jungkook’s fingers shaped into a heart.

“Fighting hyung! I’ll come every evening, so wait for me! As you saw, I’m all well, you don’t have to worry about me! Eat well and sleep lots. See you soon!”

Jimin sighed, carefully putting the pictures back in the box, which, he now noticed, still faintly smelled of cake. Just to what extent had he gone to cheer him up?

Something fell on the closed box. Wiping it, he realized he was crying.

He had no idea why, but he wouldn’t stop shedding tears. And the more he wiped them, the more he cried.

He stared at the box in front of him, suddenly surrounded by clouds of melancholy and woe.

Laying back down, he stared at the ceiling through his glassy eyes.

If only he could…

Only what?

He had no idea what he wanted. Maybe he didn’t want anything. Maybe he just wished to disappear for a good while, to forget whatever was going on.

Despite how much he tried to avoid every troubling thought, he couldn’t stop thinking about Jungkook, and that bracelet, that had somehow disappeared somewhere. Or maybe someone had taken it.

He sighed.

What was the point? No matter how hard he tried, thinking about all those things wouldn’t lead him anywhere.

That room was suffocating him. He felt trapped inside his thoughts, engulfed in dark clouds of worry, an invisible gloom looming over him. He had to leave, do something, busy his mind before he became totally crazy.

Watching his step, he got up once again. Could he really take a walk? He was still weak after all.

He washed his face in the bathroom, trying to erase any sign of tears or sorrow, and sporting his most convincing smile, which he soon realized, wasn’t convincing at all.

“It’s all fine, Jimin. All fine. You’re just bored; that’s why you’re so upset. You’re not used to having so much time on your hands; but it will get easier, you’ll see. And it’s just a week, right? Then you’ll be able to leave and go back to… your life.”

Was his life something desirable, though?

“Just focus on recovery. Recovery, recovery, recovery. Don’t think about anything else. Just- don’t think, okay?”

After his not-so-convincing prep talk, he opened the door and slowly made his way down the corridor, towards a sort of lounge area with couches and vending machines. The biggest wall was made of glass and looked out on the other side of the cheerful garden.

He wasn’t really interested in seeing the fruits borne by spring, but at least, he would be out of that terrible room.

With a bit of struggle, he reached the sofas, and flopped down on one of them with a heavy sigh of relief.

He glanced at his reflection in the glass: he really didn’t look that healthy. But who would look good after four days of almost unconsciousness and not eating, and a gastric lavage?

Still, he thought he looked quite gaunt and sick.

A dull ache had appeared at the back of his head. He massaged his stiff neck, hoping to relieve the pressure. He was alarmed, but still he tried to keep his fear at bay.

He walked towards the vending machine and emptily stared at the snacks. There wasn’t anything he felt like eating, especially after having his stomach pumped. He felt nauseated at the mere thought of food and was sure eating something unhealthy would have done him no good.

What about coffee?

Coffee was known to alleviate migraine symptoms, but with his heart rate barely under control, it wasn’t a great idea to drink anything with caffeine.

He decided to go for a chamomile, unsweetened, nice and simple. If it couldn’t ease the migraines, it would at least keep them at bay for some more time, and he would relax in the process.

Sipping slowly, he tried to calm his nerves, and indeed, it worked.

The ache wasn’t completely gone but calming down and unwinding for a bit had surely helped.

Screaming and laughing, two kids arrived in the hall. They were playing together, and the bigger one, a girl, bumped into Jimin’s leg and bounced back on the floor.

“Whoops, careful. Are you okay?”

The little girl smiled.

“Oh, hello, sir. Who are you?”

“My name is Jimin. And you? What’s your name?”

“I’m Jiyeong. And this is my brother Jihyun. He’s only four, you know?”

“Really? Wow! And how old are you?”

The girls’ lips curled in a proud smile.

“I’m much bigger! I’m six!”

“No, you aren’t!” the little boy protested, wobbling towards Jimin.

“She always lies, she’s five!”

“But I’ll be five in two months! Anyway, I’m bigger than you!”

Jimin chuckled, picking both of them up and setting them on his knees.

“Alright, alright, you’re both big!”

“But where are your parents?”

“Mom is asleep!” the girl answered, shrugging. “The doctor said she needs to sleep for some days because she’s very very tired”

Jimin smiled sadly.

“And your dad? “

“Daddy is at work. He told us to be good and stay here with mom and the nice nurses, but we were bored!” The smaller one answered.

“Yes! So we ran away from that boring room and started playing. This place is so big, it’s fun!” Jiyeong smiled widely.

Poor kids, Jimin thought. They were still so small; they couldn’t understand what was really going on.

He patted the girl’s head. “I get this place is big and fun, kids, but you shouldn’t roam around all alone like this. You could get hurt.”

“Then what do we do? It’s boring in here…”

Jimin scratched his head. “Well… what about…”

He had no idea what games kids played these days.

“What games do you like, Jiyeong? And you, Jihyun?”

“Red light green light!” “Tag!” They yelled together.

“No, red light green light!” “But I want to play tag!” “We played it just a couple of minutes ago!” “But I like it!”

“Okay, okay! Let’s start with reed light green light, alright? We’ll play the other one after that.”

After some complaints and excited giggles, they finally started playing. Jimin sat down on the floor, starting to feel the tiredness looming over him. Thank God the girl had suggested that game, he thought. Playing tag would have been exhausting.

“Okay kids, listen closely” he whispered, a grin on his lips. We have to be really quiet, okay? No yelling, or we’re gonna get caught by the big octopus under that chair!”

He pointed at a large chair in the corner next to the window. Under it laid a blue bag, whose handles looked almost like tentacles.

The two kids giggled and silenced each other.

“Alright. I will turn around and count. You two go over to that wall and be careful! You don’t have to get caught!”

“Noona, wait for me!” Jihyun yelled wobbling after his sister. The girl turned around and grabbed his hand. She placed a finger over her lips and quickly dragged him back to the wall.

“I’m starting!” Jimin covered his eyes.

“Red light…. Green light!”

Giggles, hushes, and more giggles. They kept playing for a while; the kids wanting to continue endlessly. The headache at the back of Jimin’s mind had intensified, but he tried to ignore it. He hoped a nurse, or somebody would come get the kids, if not, he would carry them back to their room.

“Jiyeong, Jihyun! There you are!” Hye Jeong came running, all worried.

Jimin smiled, relieved he might finally get some rest. He loved playing with the kids; they were adorable and sweet, but the pain was exhausting him.

“Why did you run away?” Hye Jeong murmured, kneeling down next to the children. “I searched everywhere!”

The kids giggled.

“Well, come. We’re going back to mum.”

“But I want to play with Jimin!” The girl cried out. “Me too!” echoed her brother.

They slipped out of the nurse’s arms and ran to Jimin, hugging him tight. Jimin smiled, hugging them in return.

“I think you two have bothered him enough. He needs to rest too…” Hye Jeong sighed, going towards them.

But they tightened their arms around Jimin.

“Wait a second” he mouthed to the nurse.

He picked the kids up and placed them on his knees.

“Hey, look over there” he pointed at the large glass window. “The sun is going down. You have to eat dinner and then-”

“But I want to play with you…” “And we have to play catch… you promised…” Jimin patted the boy’s head.

“I’m not going anywhere, though. I’ll stay here for a bit, so we can play tomorrow.”

“What is your room?” the girl asked.

“My room? 268.”

“We’ll come tomorrow. You promised!”

“Yes, I promise. Now be good, and go with Hye Jeong, hmm?”

Jihyun yawned and rubbed his eyes.

“Bye bye…” he murmured, finally letting go of Jimin. The girl hugged him one last time before walking towards the nurse with his brother’s hand in his.

Hye Jeong picked them up. She mouthed a “thank you” towards Jimin and then walked back through the corridor.

Jimin waved at them, and when they finally turned the corner, he drew a sigh.

He felt exhausted and wondered whether he had the energy to lift himself up from the floor, let alone walk back to his room.

“Everything alright, hyung?”

Jimin flinched at the voice. When he turned his head, he saw Jungkook was standing in the corridor, leaning on the wall, smiling at him.

“Kook! You scared the shit out of me!”

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to. You seemed really happy with the kids.”

Jimin frowned.

“Since when…”

“I arrived just about five minutes ago. But it seemed like you guys were having so much fun that I didn’t want to interrupt your games...”

Jimin sighed, throwing his head back in exhaustion.

“I like kids. But I think I still might be a bit too weak to play with them like this. I’m exhausted.”

“Why did you promise them to play tag tomorrow then?”

“Did you see them? What could I do? They were so adorable and wanted it so badly… and their mother… well, I don’t know why, but she’s unconscious from what they told me. And their father works a lot, it seems. If I can be of any help to these kids while I’m here…”

Jungkook nodded in understanding, sitting down next to him.

“Kook.”

“Hmm?” he absently answered as he stared at the sun disappearing between the leaves in the garden.

“Have you...”

Jimin bit his lip. He wanted to ask about Taehyung, but what if Jungkook knew nothing about it? Or what if he discovered Jungkook knew and hadn’t told him anything, not even a word? He didn’t want to know.

He thought back to the mother of the children.

“Do you ever wonder… how much your parents must miss you?”

“They don’t.”

To Jungkook’s sharp answer, Jimin realized. He shouldn’t have brought the topic up. But now that he was in it, he might as well try to push it a bit forward.

“How can you be sure?”

“They would have done something, if they cared about me and… J-Junghyun.”

“Kook, we’ve gone over this a million times. People make mistakes. They didn’t realize-”

“Realize what? They had Junghyun not eat in front of their eyes for days! What was there to realize? Why couldn’t they just believe us? It wasn’t that hard to see! He was skinny and-”

His clenched jaw tensed even more.

“I cannot forgive them… for what they failed to understand.”

“Nor… myself, for the fact that I didn’t do enough…”

Jimin stared as Jungkook shut his mouth and didn’t utter a word more. He shouldn’t have talked about that. Why had he even tried? He could feel how tense and heartbroken Jungkook was just by staring at him.

Just… seeing him so strong in these days… he had secretly hoped…

But things don’t go that fast.

Those kinds of wounds never heal. And every time Jimin tried to come close to it, Jungkook would wail and growl like a hurt animal, and retract, close off.

Jimin’s headache was starting to become hard to ignore. His neck was stiff, and the pain was growing in intensity with every minute that passed.

He groaned, hiding his face in his hands, sheltering his eyes from the light.

“I do miss my family, though. I miss my father, my mom, my friends.”

“I miss you, Kook.”

The boy turned around in confusion.

“I miss how we f-fooled around… when everything… was...”

Much to Jungkook’s surprise, Jimin exhaled a shaky breath, and with his hands tightly gripping his hair, he let himself collapse over the younger boy.

Jimin whimpered quietly, curling up like a baby.

Alarmed, Jungkook placed a hand over the trembling back of his hyung.

“Does your head hurt? Is it the migraines?”

Jimin only whimpered in response.

“How much on a scale from 1 to 10?”

“E-eight…”

Jimin’s breathing was accelerating, and he gripped Jungkook’s shirt.

“Hyung, calm down. We’re going through this together, okay? Just- can you stand?”

With Jungkook’s help, Jimin wobblingly made his way back to his room. As soon as he got on the bed, he hid under the covers, shivering.

Jungkook shut every light. It wasn’t pitch-black, but it was close enough.

“Hyung…” he murmured.

“w-what?”

Jimin was already sweating, and his voice came out as a weak whisper, barely audible.

“I’m searching for help, I’ll be back in a second, I promise. Don’t go anywhere, okay?”

The boy answered with a soft whimper.

Jungkook dashed into the corridor. He had no idea what to do; it was obvious Jimin couldn’t take the pills, but there must be a way to make him feel better.

Hye Jeong was just walking by when she saw Jungkook’s face light up.

“Excuse me! A-are you a nurse?”

“U-uh yes” she answered, staring at the guy she had never seen before.

“I need help!”

“What’s wrong?”

“Come! I’m a friend of Jimin, room... uh.. 268! He’s having a strong migraine and I don’t know what to do! Can you help in any way?”

Hye Jeong’s heart sank.

“I think I can do something, but it would be best to call Mr. Kim Namjoon since he’s in charge of the patient.”

She quickened her pace and reached the room together with Jungkook.

When they entered, the bed was empty. The I.V bag was there, but Jimin wasn’t.

After the initial shock, the two ran to the bathroom, from where sounds were coming.

They found Jimin on the floor, contorting, his hands tightly wrapped around his head as he cried out softly.

“Hyung!”

“Mr. Park!”

They both exclaimed, reaching for him. The nurse attempted to keep him still, but to no avail. He wouldn’t stop moving and panting, groaning in pain.

Judging from the contents of the toilet, he had thrown up, although there was nothing he could possibly pour out, having only drunk a chamomile.

Jungkook kneeled down next to the whimpering boy, as the nurse tried to place a band-aid over his bleeding arm.

“Seems like he ripped the IV in the rush... can you help me hold him still for a second?”

Jungkook did as he was told, cold sweat coating his forehead.

“He... I’ve never seen him this bad. This must be the worst migraine he has ever experienced up to now.”

The nurse nodded.

“Can you hear me? Mr. Park, everything’s fine, we’re gonna help you.”

But Jimin wasn’t giving any sign of even registering what was happening around him.

“I think it’s best if we call Mr. Namjoon. He almost never leaves, so he should be in his office.”

“Alright, I’ll go look for him, but let’s put him back on the bed first.”

Together, they managed to lift him up. They dragged him back to the bed and decided to pull the side rails of the bed up, to prevent Jimin from falling since he was contorting so much.

“I’ll bring Namjoon, can I entrust him to you?”

“Of course, don’t worry about it.”

When Jungkook came back, Jimin had calmed down a bit. He was visibly in pain, but the nurse was pressing an ice pack on his forehead, and at least he wasn’t thrashing around as much as before.

Namjoon ran in.

He sat down next to Jimin’s bed and gently tried to get Jimin to notice him. His cries had reduced to soft whimpers, but that was probably because even sounds hurt, and Jimin was trying to hold back a bit to at least not make it worse.

“Jimin…” Namjoon placed a hand on the boys back.

“It’s me, Namjoon…”

“Hyung…” he cried in response, letting out an exhausted series of sobs he couldn’t contain.

The doctor held Jimin’s hand tightly, trying to reassure him.

“Don’t worry, everything will be fine. We’re all here for you, it’ll pass.”

“I c-can’t… it hurts so much… my… my head it’s splitting open…” he panted, eyes blurry with endless tears.

“Hyung… make it stop…”

Namjoon didn’t have the heart to answer.

“I’m begging you… hyung… do something!”

Jungkook couldn’t hold it in anymore. Tears already clouding his sight, he dashed out of the room.

Namjoon turned around.

Not him too. He couldn’t possibly handle both at the same time.

“Hye Jeong,” he whispered.

“Come here. Will you stay with Jimin for a second? Have the ice packs worked?”

“Not really. He seemed to calm down for a second, but I don’t think they were of much help.” She whispered back.

Namjoon sighed, still rubbing circles on the back of Jimin’s hand.

“Try with hot packs then. It could help him relax. Excuse me for a second, I’ll go check on Jungkook.”

He reluctantly left Jimin and walked out of the room.

Blinded by the corridor light for a second, he squeezed his eyes shut.

“Jungkook?”

When his eyes adjusted to the new brightness, he saw a figure hunched down in the lounge area. Sighing, he walked towards him.

He was sobbing, his head hidden between his knees.

Namjoon crouched down, making the boy flinch. Jungkook looked at him with wide eyes, as he wiped his tears.

“I’m sorry… It’s just a moment, it’ll pass…”

Just as he spoke, another fit of desperate cries echoed in the hallway.

Jungkook’s chin trembled as he tried not to cry all over again. Namjoon sighed.

“Jungkook… go home. There’s no need for you to stay here and see this.”

But he shook his head.

“Jimin stood by my side every time I suffered, I want to be there for him too. I’ll suck it up.”

“But…”

“I promised him.”

Jungkook smiled as tears painted lines of sorrow along his cheeks.

“I told him we would get over this together, and there’s no way I’m abandoning him like this. I might be sensitive, vulnerable and everything else, but I’m not a liar. I will keep my promise.”

Namjoon saw the determination in the boy’s eyes. There was no hope of convincing him to leave now.

“Fine. Let’s go back inside then. Can you do it?”

Jungkook was determined: he nodded, wiping his face once again.

Maybe it was better like this, Namjoon thought. At least he would be able to keep an eye on him in case something happened.

Jungkook made his way back to the gloomy room. When his eyes adjusted to the darkness once again, he saw the nurse was now pressing hot packs on Jimin’s forehead and neck. He was too shaken to question the change, though. He slowly climbed on the bed and snuggled in beside Jimin.

“Gguk…” he murmured; his voice rough from all the crying. “Go home…”

Jungkook, however, back hugged the trembling boy. “No hyung. I promised I would be by your side. And I am. And I’m not leaving until I’m sure you’re okay.”

“I’m sorry…” Jimin quietly cried.

“Don’t even think about it, hyung. Try to get some rest. I’ll be with you.”

“We’re in this together.”

Chapter Text

External POV

Jungkook applied pressure on the whimpering boy’s neck to relieve some tension. He made sure his hands were warm and restlessly massaged the stiff spots.

On the side, patiently observing, stood Namjoon. “Is it working?”

A sigh escaped Jungkook’s lips. “Can’t tell. He must still be in a lot of pain. Isn’t there something we can give him? Does he really have to suffer this much? How long? It’s been an hour already.”

“There’s not much we can do apart from waiting and trying to help him with these methods. We can’t risk giving him something his mind could recognize as a pain reliever and use it to substitute the old drug. Coffee could help with the pain, but it still hasn’t been even an hour since e he threw up. I doubt his stomach could handle it.”

“Then what do we do? We just wait?”

The lack of answer was enough of a response.

“Hyung…” he whispered, moving the messy strands of hair cast over Jimin’s face. “Do you want me to stop? Or does it make you feel better?”

“It was better, but… now it’s not…” it was a mere murmur, barely audible.

Gently, the younger removed his hands from his hyung’s neck. He noticed how sweaty he was.

“Namjoon hyung, I think he’s got a fever. He’s also sweating a lot. Is this normal?”

The doctor parted Jimin’s hair again and placed a hand on his forehead. The boy whined and retracted. The searing pain had increased at the mere touch.

“He’s burning up. For a withdrawal crisis, and such a strong migraine, yes, it is normal. We should resort to ice packs rather than ibuprofen though. I don’t think it would be useful giving him any medication, giving how weak he already is.”

Jimin curled up again, turning his face towards Jungkook’s chest.

“Too loud…” he whined against the other’s t-shirt, clutching it in his fists.

Jungkook protectively covered Jimin’s ears with his hands, although he doubted that would help at all.

“I’ll get a fluids IV started. Hye Jeong, go take the necessary to at least cool him down, and bring another bag of nutrients. Jungkook, go help her.”

Jungkook reluctantly lifted from the bed, leaving a panting Jimin shivering on the mattress, too large for his frail figure.

Jungkook eyed him, his heart wrenching in pain.

“Hyung, be careful with the IV, he accidentally took it off before.”

The two exited the dark room. In silence, they collected everything that was necessary. It wasn’t anything special, just ice packs and the necessary to start IV lines. They brought towels too.

They walked back into the room, and Jungkook’s heart ached at Jimin’s pleas.

“Why is it so strong, hyung? He’s never suffered this much before.” Jungkook asked, eyes watery, as he carried to the table all they had managed to gather.

“Opiate-induced hyperalgesia.” Namjoon gently placed one of the ice packs on the boy’s burning forehead.

“Can you tell me what that is, Hye Jeong?” he eyed the girl.

“It’s… a medical condition caused by prolonged use of certain painkillers, resulting in hypersensitivity to pain.”

“So… you’re telling me he’s hurting more because of all the painkillers he took before?”

“Yes. Good job, Hye Jeong.” Namjoon answered.

“With this kind of patients, we usually reduce the pain medication little by little, but giving him even just a milligram of the medication right now would only compromise his body more. We still don’t know whether his liver is damaged or not, we can’t risk it.”

Resigned to having to just watch Jimin suffering, Jungkook walked to the bed to at least lay beside him and offer him some sort of comfort. Before he could, though, Namjoon placed a card in Jungkook’s hand.

He arched an eyebrow.

“What-”

“Take a break, Kook. You too, Hye Jeong. You’ve both worked hard. Get something to eat at the vending machines and rest. I don’t want to see you back here for at least half an hour..”

“And what about you, hyung?”

“I’m fine, don’t worry.”

“If we take a break now, promise me you’ll do it too when we come back.”

Namjoon frowned.

“Come one, I told you-”

Even in the darkness, Jungkook’s fiery eyes gleamed like blazes in the night. They spoke of determination. Namjoon was going to have to take a break, and there wasn’t anything he could do to convince him otherwise.

“Fine,” he sighed. “I’ll do as you say. But now go.”

The lounge area was empty, and the moon had already risen over the trees in the garden. Jungkook flipped the credit card in his hands. Looking up, he noticed the girl had sat down on one of the couches and was playing with the hem of her shirt.

He put the card in his pocket and pulled out his own.

“Would you like some coffee?”

“U-um, yes, thank you…”

“Then a coffee and a cup of tea…” he told himself as he tried to figure out how the vending machine worked. When he finally managed to wrap his head around the mechanism, he brought the coffee to the girl and sat down next to her.

“I’m sorry… I still haven’t introduced myself properly. I’m Jeon Jungkook.”

“I’m Hye Jeong, nice to meet you.”

A long, uncomfortable pause followed.

“Um… I just wanted to say that… well… Thank you for taking care of Jimin… he’s…”

Jungkook sighed.

“He’s not an addict. In all these years he neglected his health to look after me… and I can’t help but to feel responsible for all of this.”

“It must be hard…”

Jungkook’s phone rang.

“Ah, sorry, I really have to answer this.”

“Yeah, sure!”

“Taehyung? I’m still at the hospital. No, I’m not in Jimin’s room. Actually…”

Taehyung? The girl was sure she had heard that name before that afternoon, pronounced by Jimin as he passed out in the corridor.

“It’s complicated hyung… Jimin… he’s got the worst migraine. I’ve never seen him so in pain.”

Jungkook let out a shaky breath.

“Hyung, are you sure you don’t wanna come and see him?”

Hye Jeong waited patiently.

“Alright… I’m gonna update you on him then…”

“Bye hyung, see you soon.”

Jungkook sighed once again, putting his phone back in his pocket.

He sipped his tea in silence, staring into the void.

He felt horrible. Seeing Jimin suffering so much was really putting him under a lot of stress. It was his fault after all. There was no way around it. And it made him feel horrible.

Seeing Taehyung so scared of meeting Jimin broke his heart. They were his best friends after all, and having to hide all of this from Jimin... He shouldn’t be lying about Taehyung, but what if Jimin got angry? What if Taehyung then got angry? Whatever he did, he felt like he was in the middle of a sibling’s fight, but much more serious, and he was going to betray either one of them.

Why was it always so hard to understand people and do the right thing?

Not only was Taehyung avoiding Jimin. He was hiding something. Jungkook couldn’t understand if he had just changed and become more reserved, or if instead he had suffered something terrible, which had led him to his current state.

His smile never looked sincere enough, as if a certain pain was hidden behind it. He held back a lot, and whenever he realized he had done something a bit more friendly, he would immediately freeze and regain his composure.

Was it a crime to be friendly? Was it absurd to laugh and tell your friends what you’re going through?

Jungkook didn’t know, but he started feeling like he was trying to help someone who really didn’t want to be helped.

Hye Jeong noticed Jungkook’s hands were shaking.

He passed a hand through his hair, as his leg kept bouncing repetitively. That wasn’t good. He could feel his heart starting to race. This wasn’t the right time to get anxious.

“Um, excuse me, everything alright?” Hye Jeong softly asked, putting her coffee aside.

“Me? Ah… well… kind of… I just need to calm down a bit…”

He sounded quite out of breath already.

“Let’s go back inside… Namjoon will surely need a break too…”

“A-are you sure? Wouldn’t it be best for you to rest a bit more?” she asked.

He got up, unsteady. “I… It’s okay, I’d rather see how Jimin’s doing.”

He hurriedly tottered down the corridor. When Hye Jeong reached him, his feet had come to a halt in front of the closed door.

“Mr. Jeon?”

He was shaking, unable to move a single muscle, paralyzed by the soft sobs coming from inside.

Succumbing to the sheer panic that was spreading through his body, Jungkook crouched down, heavily breathing, eyes squeezed shut. A thin layer of sweat had formed on his forehead.

“Mr-”

“I’m sorry, I just n-need a m-minute.” He weakly mumbled, placing a hand on the door to keep himself steady.

He took deep breaths, his forehead pressed against the cold surface of the door.

He was losing his grip on reality. All the senses were getting mixed up, and he could barely tell whether he was standing or not and if the voices that he heard all around him even existed.

“Think,” he told to himself. “There’s no reason to get so scared. You can’t weight on others like this anymore. Pull yourself together.”

With all the willpower he had left, he forced himself to get out of his train of negative thoughts. He opened his eyes and focused on the tiles on the floor.

“H-Hye Jeong…”

“Yes?”

“Would you please… talk to me? I need to get out of my mind.”

He sat on the floor leaning his back on the wall for support. The adrenaline rush had left him exhausted, but he had to keep his mind from wandering anywhere.

Being fresh out of med school, Hye Jeong had recognized the signs of the panic attack, and tried to comply with what Jungkook had asked.

“Okay, I’ll ask simple questions.”

He nodded.

The girl sat down in front of him, trying to come up with anything that could help.

“Can I call you Jungkook?”

Nod.

“Okay. Then… how old are you, Jungkook?” she knew how important it was to call his name.

“T-twenty-five”

“And what job do you do?” Jungkook tried to ignore the images that flashed in his mind.

“I’m a teacher.”

“Where do you teach, Jungkook?”

“Liberal arts Seoul university.”

They continued for a bit, simple questions, not anything complicated that required anything more than a two-word answer. And it seemed to work, as Jungkook seemed much calmer than when they had started.

Her questions ended when she noticed his breathing was pretty much back to normal.

“Thank you… I’m feeling better now. Sorry for this, I mean, you already have a lot of work on your hands, so…”

“It’s fine, really! I mean, I’ve never seen anyone handle what you had with such control. From how you looked I would have imagined you to react… in a worse way.”

Jungkook smiled, getting up. “Thank you again. I think it’s best if we go back inside now.”

Taking a deep breath, Jungkook followed Hye Jeong inside.

Even in the pitch darkness, Namjoon could notice the exhaustion in Jungkook’s eyes. He had heard something outside, but he figured Hye Jeong would have called him if something went wrong.

“Did something happen?” he whispered, as quiet as possible.

“Everything’s under control, hyung. Don’t worry. We’ll take charge now. Go take a break too.” He handed him back his credit card.

“How’s Jimin?”

It was a useless question. His whimpering echoed in the room.

“I got the IV started… at least he’s not going to get dehydrated. For the pain… there’s not much we can do.”

Jungkook sighed.

“Okay. I’ll give him another massage, go rest, hyung.”

He smiled. “Don’t overwork yourself.”

“Hye Jeong, is it okay for you to stay? I can call someone else if it’s too much.”

“I’m okay with staying.”

Namjoon sighed.

“Then, I’ll take a break. I’ll be back quickly.”

They went on, alternating massages and cold packs and whatever could help Jimin to alleviate his pain.

“How much time, hyung?”

Jungkook asked at some point, barely being able to keep his eyes open. Jimin was still shivering, the sobbing had never stopped.

Namjoon looked at his watch. “It’s been four hours.”

Jimin pulled himself closer to Jungkook, a whimper escaping his lips. His cheeks were wet with endless tears. He desperately wanted to shut up, as every sob hurt him more. But he was in too much pain, he couldn’t do anything about it.

Jungkook hugged the trembling boy, trying his best to provide him with as much comfort as he could.

 Was it ever going to end?

The faint chirps of birds outside had just begun when the sobs gradually diminished until they completely stopped. Jimin had been fading in and out of conscience for the last couple of hours, everyone around him had started to doze off.

Jimin took a shaky breath. Jungkook, who was lying next to him, half asleep, was shaken out of his slumber.

He moved Jimin’s hair from his face, gently.

“Hyung…” he whispered, barely audible. “Better?”

Jimin passed a hand over his eyes and let out a sigh of relief.

In the meantime, Namjoon and Hye Jeong got up from the chairs they had been dozing off on. They walked closer to the bed to check on what was going on.                                                                

“I- it’s goin’ ..way”

The boy slurred, before falling in a deep sleep.

Jungkook smiled, passing a hand through the boy’s hair.

“The fever is gone too…”

 He laid his head back down next to Jimin, a sudden weariness creeping over him. He heard Namjoon and Hye Jeong talking, but he couldn’t make out anything they were saying. Before he could notice, everything had gone black.

Jungkook looked around. He had no idea what time it was since the blinds were still completely shut. He listened for any sound in the darkness, half expecting to hear Jimin’s sobs once again. But instead, only his faint breathing could be heard. As his eyes adjusted to the gloomy room, he saw Jimin, soundly asleep, his face finally relaxed.

“It has gone away…” Jungkook though, as he moved a strand of hair from Jimin’s face. The boy stirred up, startling Jungkook. Eyes barely open, he mumbled incomprehensible words.

“Shhh, sleep.” He pulled the bedsheets up and tugged Jimin in.

It took him no time to fall back asleep. Jungkook silently made his way towards the bathroom, phone in his hand. Namjoon and Hye Jeong were nowhere to be seen.

He looked at the time: 9:45 AM.

“Oh, shit!” he mumbled, quickly making his way into the corridor. He blindly dialled the university director number, getting it wrong twice in his haste.

“Hello? Mer Jeon, why are you not in class? We came to your apartment, but you did not answer.”

“I-I’m extremely sorry! I’ve had an emergency, I’m at hospital taking care of a friend… it was so sudden… in all the confusion I forgot to inform you… sir…” he rambled, his voice still groggy.

A sigh was heard from the other side of the phone.

“Alright. Since it was an emergency, I’m going to turn a blind eye this time. I’m not against professors taking as much leave as they need, especially you, with all your… um… issues. But try at least to call beforehand, so that we can arrange substitutes.”

“Of course, sir, this won’t happen ever again.”

“You know that weren’t it for how many students love your lectures, this kind of behaviours wouldn’t be accepted, right?”

“Yes, yes sir, I’m extremely sorry, I’m going to be consistent from now on, thank you for your patience…”

“Alright, cut it with the apologies. Are you going to take leave for the entire morning then? Not that there is much left of it anyway…”

“Um, yes sir… I would like to ask permission to take the day.”

“Okay then.”

“Thank you sir, I’m sorry-”

The phone call cut.

Jungkook huffed in frustration, sliding down the wall, head between his knees.

“Was that your boss?”

Jungkook flinched.

“Gosh! Hyung, you almost gave me a heart attack!”

Namjoon offered a hand to the boy.

“Sorry. Is Jimin sleeping?”

Jungkook nodded. “Yes, he’s still sleeping, he doesn’t seem in pain anymore. And yes, that was my freaking boss, getting angry because I didn’t call.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes.

“I mean, okay, I suddenly disappeared, I get that, but I mean, it was an emergency! My first thought wasn’t to call him for the stupidest thing when I had Jimin crying his eyes out next to me!”

“Ah! It’s so frustrating! I know I’m not the most responsible person in this world, but even after what I told him, couldn’t he be just a bit nicer? I’d like to see him try to experience what we saw. We would see then if his first thought would be to call work!”

Namjoon chuckled.

“I’m glad to see you’re okay though. Bosses can be… well… pretty bossy and annoying sometimes. He’ll get over it. Besides, he can’t really fire you, can he? I bet he would lose tons of students if you were to stop teaching there.”

“Ah, hyung, come on.. that’s not..”

Jungkook’s phone buzzed.

“Aish… is it that bastard again?”

But on the screen, Taehyung’s number appeared.

“Sorry… I have to answer”

“Tae?”

Namjoon’s heart skipped a beat.

“Jimin’s asleep now. I think he’s feeling better. Yeah, he… cried all night, but… I think the harder part is done… at least for today.”

“Me? I’m okay yeah. Wait, what?”

Jungkook looked around. “What do you mean you’re here?”

“Ah, hyung! Really? I’m coming, wait a minute.”

“Namjoon hyung, I have to go to the entrance for a second. I’ll be back.”

“Wait, is Taehyung…”

But before Namjoon could ask, Jungkook had already walked down the corridor and turned the corner.

Was Taehyung really there? He thought he wasn’t even in south Korea anymore. When had he reappeared? Why hadn’t Jungkook told him anything?

He had thought Taehyung had come when Jimin had started screaming his name holding the bracelet he vaguely remembered to be Taehyung’s.

But who would believe that suddenly, a friend who they hadn’t seen in years had found Jungkook and they had started hanging out together again?

He also remembered that not even two months before, in a call with Jungkook, he had stated he didn’t know the other’s whereabouts. Then had this happened recently? Did Jimin know, or was Jungkook hiding Taehyung from everybody?

His body moved on his own accord, and before he could realize what he was doing, he was in front of the entrance, hiding behind a wall, eavesdropping on the conversation between the two.

“You look like a zombie, Kook-ah. Are you really okay?”

“What, did you expect me to look like a prince after staying up all night?”

“I guess you’re right…”

“Jimin is asleep. Are you sure you don’t wanna see him?”

“I shouldn’t… it’s best if I don’t.”

His voice had gotten deeper. Weren’t it for his much recognizable inflections, it would have been hard for Namjoon to tell who he was.

“I brought you some soup… like the one we did the last time.”

“Ah… thanks hyung.”

“It’s nothing special. Just… I figured that since Jimin’s migraine was bad, you would stay here at least all morning. And you have to take care of Yin too, so…”

“Yes, that’s true. I have to somehow bring her here to eat, I don’t think I will leave Jimin alone, at least for today. I don’t have a car nor a driving’s license, though. Maybe I should pay a taxi for her. Do you think that would be okay?”

“Yes, I don’t see anything wrong with that. I would help you, but I still don’t have a car here in Korea.”

“Oh, right!” Taehyung continued.

“I’m sure you must have been very busy with Jimin and all… but did you think about what I told you last time?”

“T-that thing?”

“That thing.”

Jungkook sighed. “I don’t know, hyung, I’ve never felt it before, I can’t tell if that’s what it is. And there are also our different roles to take into consideration… I shouldn’t even be thinking about something like that. What if then something happens at school? What if someone reports us? No, not even that, but I doubt it’s the same for her…”

What were they talking about? Namjoon guessed it was that student from Jungkook’s course, the one who had brought him back to all his trauma. He had heard something from Yoongi on how they were trying to help each other, but he couldn’t decipher whatever they might be talking about.

“It’s so confusing hyung, whichever way I think of it, I can’t wrap my head around it.”

“Okay, okay. Let’s take a step back. You obviously don’t have the means to answer all these questions now, and neither do I. Try to forget about all the labels and definitions that come with this stuff. Focus on your relationship with her. You have to spend time with her everyday anyway, try to enjoy it and to take care of her as you’ve always done. You two enjoy your mutual company, right?”

“Y-yes…”

“Then that’s enough. Understanding the nature of your bond will come later.”

“Alright. I’ll try to do as you say, hyung.”

“I better be going, then. Take care. Take care of yourself, of Yin and of Jimin. I’m sorry I can’t be of much help. I just… can’t do that.” His voice quivered.

“It’s okay, hyung, you already do enough. I’m extremely grateful for being able to talk with you like this. Not everyone would have purposefully walked back into this mess that our life is. Besides, you’ve helped me with my cooking skills, that’s something I never thought I could enjoy doing, but I have to admit it’s starting to become some sort of new hobby. I want to try making rice cakes next!”

Taehyung chuckled.

“Oh, why do you always want to start with the hard stuff? “

“Don’t know, guess I’d like to be immediately good at everything.”

“But you are, Kook.”

“Then there’s no reason to doubt my rice cakes making ability! I’m gonna make it, just wait and see!”

“Alright, alright. I’ll get going now, but you have to keep that promise. I really wanna see you come to grips with rice cakes.”

“Sure. Goodbye hyung, I’ll text you when I have news about Jimin.”

“… thank you.”

At that moment, Namjoon could no longer hide. He walked out towards them.

“Taehyung!”

The boy, who had already started walking away, stopped in his tracks.

He was a man now. That was the only thing Namjoon could think about. He was just a kid when they had last seen each other. When, when had he changed so much? His light brown hair, short and messy, had been replaced by black, perfectly arranged strands of hair. He looked mature, nothing like he had looked like when he was younger.

“Long time no see, hyung…” he smiled. “I came back.”

At a loss for words, the older man walked towards him, and hugged him tightly. Jungkook fondly watched the two until he noticed something was off. Taehyung was not smiling.

Well, he was curving his lips upwards, and he was probably happy to see Namjoon, as he was fairly sure he had been to see he himself. But that wasn’t a genuine smile. It looked arranged, nothing like the old, wide grins he used to sport on his face 24/7 before.

Had he lost the ability to smile? To genuinely feel happiness? That wouldn’t surprise him, given he too, in the past hadn’t been able to smile for years.

But there had to be a reason. One didn’t simply forget how to smile. There was something Taehyung was hiding; he was purposefully being really vague about his whereabouts after he had left Korea.

“You… Taehyung, you’ve grown so much!” Namjoon exclaimed.

“And you look so professional, hyung. You made it in the end. You became a doctor, well you’re the head of this hospital, I heard. Who would have imagined that?”

Namjoon smiled. “Ah… thank you… but… you? Here? Are you planning to stay?”

Taehyung gave him another half-smile. “I think so. Oh, right, I have an appointment in 20 minutes, I’m looking for an apartment around here, and I managed to arrange with an owner to visit one of the homes that I’m considering. I better not be late.”

“Oh, sure. Then it’s best if you go. I’m always here, so whenever you want, we can grab a coffee together and have a chat.”

Was that fear the one that Jungkook caught in Taehyung’s eyes. Why would it be, though? What reason would there be?

“That sounds good. Then… see you”

“Bye, Kook”

“Kook?”

The boy flinched. “Y-yes, what?”

“I just said bye” Taehyung chuckled.

“Ah, sorry… I’m still a bit dazed after tonight. See you, hyung!”

They watched as the black-haired man disappeared behind a corner.

Namjoon patted the boy’s back. “You have had no breakfast yet, right?”

“Yeah, I just woke up…”

“Come with me, then. We have a cafeteria on the left side of the building, right next to the info point. Let’s have some proper breakfast.”

Chapter Text

External POV

“Come Jihyun, hurry!”

Jiyeong whispered, as the two kids sneaked out of their mother’s room. Barefoot, looking around, they roamed the corridor.

“Hello!” Jihyun waved at an old man on a wheelchair.

“Come, quick!” the girl dragged him away.

“Noona?”

“What?”

“Where are we going?”

“Shh, don’t talk so loudly. I want to go to see Jimin oppa, he had pinky promised to play with us, remember?”

“Tag! We have to play tag!” he jumped excitedly.

“Shhh!” she shushed him once again.

They paddled left and right, slowly reading the numbers on every room’s door.

“Noona?”

“Yes?”

“What’s on there?” the boy pointed at a large green sign hung on the wall.

“How am I supposed to know? Mommy had promised me to teach me how to read, but she’s still sleeping...”

They walked in silence for some time.

“Noona?”

“What now?” Jiyeong sighed.

“Why is mommy sleeping so much? Isn’t she tired of staying in bed? She never even says hi to us... is she really so so so sleepy?”

The girl stopped in front of her brother. “I don’t know. I think the nice doctors aren’t so nice, and they are lying to us.”

“Really?”

Jiyeong shrugged.

“I don’t know. Sometimes I wish I was a grownup. They always get to know everything, while they don’t tell us anything...”

“There!” she smiled satisfied.

“Room 268… look, you can read those numbers… right, Jihyun?”

He nodded, a proud smile on his face. “Two… six… eight”

The girl walked close to the door.

“Wait! Noona, knock! Dad always says you have to knock first!”

“Oh, right, I forgot!”

She knocked. Nobody answered.

Jihyun knocked too, but there wasn’t any response.

The girl looked up. The doorknob looked really far, but maybe…

“Jihyun, come here.”

She lifted the boy up against the door. “Come on, open it!” the boy extended his small hands as much as he could, but he was far from being able to even graze it.

The girl started jumping, desperately reaching for the handle.

When she was about to give up, she jumped high enough.

The door creaked open. Jihyun hid behind his sister, as a shiver ran down his spine. Not only was everything gigantic in that place, but the room was also completely engulfed in darkness.

At the back of the room, light was filtering through the closed blinds. But in the rest of the room, nothing more than dark outlines could be discerned.

The girl wanted to move forward, but her little brother wouldn’t allow her.

“Noona, I’m scared. Let’s go back...”

She shook her head. “There are no monsters here, I promise. L-let’s go together.”

“Jimin oppa?” her voice came out in a whisper.

They cautiously paddled in the room, making sure the door wouldn’t close behind them.

Tightly holding each other’s hands, they wandered in the world of creaks and shadows. The soft glow coming from the opened door behind them projected a pale “safe” zone on the ground, and they made sure not to step out of it.

When they finally got to the bed, they halted.

“Oppa?” the girl called once again.

Silence. Then, a grumble came from over the mattress.

The kids huddled together, frozen by fear. Thoughts rushed through their minds. Maybe there was a monster, after all. Was it because they had stepped out of the light? Were they going to get eaten?

The mattress started moving, as if something heavy and enormous was approaching.

Jihyun crouched down in terror, tightly holding onto her sister’s leg.

Jiyeong couldn’t stop looking upwards, waiting for the monster to extend a hand and grab them. What could she do? What if she shoved her brother under the bed? Would he be safe that way? But who would protect him from the monsters under the bed, then? Wasn’t there any way to get out of that situation?

Something started looming over her. It had bony hands, and deep eyes, weird spikes all over his head.

She knew it. That was the end.

Looking up, Jihyun let out a high-pitched scream. The monster moved swiftly until the bedside lamp turned on.

When Jiyeong looked up, there was no monster anymore. Instead, Jimin was curiously looking at them.

“Oh… it’s you, kids. What are you doing here?” he murmured, eyes squeezed because of the light.

“J-J-Jimin hyung!” Jihyun burst into tears.

“Hey... come here....”

With much effort, he dragged a chair closer to his bed. They immediately climbed onto it and the mattress, hiding in Jimin’s comforting embrace.

Jimin was having a tough time focusing. His memory was a mess, and he barely understood where he was. A dull ache still lingered in his neck and head, but nothing compared to the absolute hell he had gone through in the last few hours.

“What’s up with you two?” he slowly murmured, patting their heads.

“Th-there was a m-monster...” the boy stuttered, before bursting into tears all over again. The girl was trying to hold back, but she was visibly upset too.

“Oh... poor kids... You must have been scared... but you’re safe now, I promise. Nothing can hurt you...”

It took all of his willpower not to fall asleep as he comforted the children. The loud crying surely didn’t help with the pain at the back of his head.

When they looked calmer, he wiped their tears and forced himself to smile.

“Why did you come here?”

“What do you mean? You pinky promised to play tag!” Jihyun exclaimed.

Playing tag. The mere thought made his head spin and his guts twist.

“Um... I’m sorry, Jihyun, Jiyeong. I was so excited about playing with you that I didn’t sleep. And now I’m... very very tired.”

The kids looked at him in confusion.

“I can’t play with you today kids…”

They pouted.

“But what about tomorrow? We can play tomorrow, mhh?”

“You have to promise for real!” the boy said.

“Yes, for real…” Jimin mumbled

He felt his eyes drooping and poured all his will into keeping them open.

“There you are! Come here! Mr. Park needs rest!” Hye Jeong appeared on the doorstep, panting.

“It’s fine… don’t scold them. It was my fault.” Jimin slurred out.

“You promised, okay?” Jiyeong said.

“Yes… I promised. Tomorrow I’ll play with you, alright?”

“Okay… see you tomorrow...” Jihyun murmured as the nurse picked him up.

“I’m sorry Mr. Park, I fell asleep and… I’ll come back as soon as I’ve found someone to take care of the kids.”

“I’m fine. Don’t scold the kids, they did nothing wrong…”

The nurse left.

He was about to fall back asleep when Jungkook entered the room with Namjoon.

“Hyung! You’re awake.”

“Sort of…” he mumbled rubbing his eyes.

“How are you feeling?”

Namjoon asked as he checked the vitals.

“Good, compared to tonight…”

“Any symptoms? Nausea, headaches, light or sound sensitivity? Pain somewhere?”

“Jimin?”

“Huh?” he murmured, forcing his eyes wide open.

“Any symptoms?”

“I...”

Jimin huffed. “I’m just hungry.”

“I think we can fix that,” the doctor smiled. “Jungkook, that soup ta- um… you made, is it light?”

“Yeah, I guess so. “

“Then why don’t you eat some of that? We can get that warmed up. Yin will come for lunch, anyway, isn’t she?”

“A-a-ah y-yes, well, for dinner…” Jungkook’s cheeks instantly got flushed.

Jimin frowned.

“Okay, I’ll get that ready then. You can set up a table here if you want, I’ll call a nurse to help you. This way you can eat together with her tonight. Is that okay, Jimin? Or are you too tired and prefer to eat alone?”

Jimin shook his head. “I’m sick and tired of being alone. It’s boring as hell.”

“Alright. I don’t think you should walk around though; the migraine could have been caused by fatigue. It’d be better for you to eat in bed.”

“That’s fine with me” Jimin murmured, placing his head back on the pillow.

When Namjoon left the room, Jungkook sat next to the boy.

“Hyung”

Jimin grumbled in response.

“Your head’s still hurting, right?”

“It’s just the aftermath... I’ll be fine in a couple of hours.”

Jungkook sighed.

“Why did you lie to Namjoon?”

“I’ll rest my eyes for a bit. Wake me up when the food’s ready though…”

“Wait hyung, why did you...”

Jimin was already soundly asleep.

-------------------------

The sun was already starting to set behind the trees. Jimin had spent most of the day sleeping and avoiding Jungkook’s questions, and some kind of pent-up frustration had built up in the room.

Jungkook, who had been dozing off on the couch, jolted up when a knock was heard on the door. Hoping to be at least decent, he took a deep breath.

“Um… hello” Yin said as soon as the door was opened in front of her.

“Hey, come in. H-how are you?”

“Fine… How’s Jiminssi?”

Jungkook turned around to see Jimin had woken up and was slowly sitting up. Still half-asleep, he waved his hand, smiling. “Hello there, Yin.”

“C-come in.” Jungkook moved from the doorstep.

“Was the car ride okay? I’m sorry you had to come here... it’s... you know, we’re not in the best situation right now.”

“It’s no problem, really, I understand. Thank you for having me here. Is that okay with you, Jiminssi? Won’t I disturb you?”

Jimin shook his head, rubbing his eyes.

“I’ve spent the whole day sleeping, I don’t mind a bit of company,” he smiled.

The initial awkwardness melted during dinner. They were sitting at the table, except for Jimin, who was still eating in bed next to them.

He was amazed to see the girl eating without even putting much thought into it. She seemed more at ease, and he finally started believing Jungkook had told him the truth when he had said Yin was now able to finish a whole bowl of soup.

There was something he couldn’t wrap his head around, though. More and more things he was confused about had popped up since he had ended up in this hospital room. He felt as if he was being left behind and locked in this place. He was not catching up with the rapidly evolving real world.

He couldn’t pinpoint what exactly, but something had indeed changed between Jungkook and the girl. They were talking cheerfully, both of them, and Jimin couldn’t believe his ears. Hearing Yin talk, and that much? No shyness? She wasn’t extremely confident obviously, but she was less awkward and anxious than usual. The two seemed to be in their own little bubble, and Jimin couldn’t help but feel like he was being left out a bit.

He didn’t care if they didn’t include him in the conversation, he was rather tired and not particularly interested in “The suffering of young Werther”, whatever that was.

But he thought everyone around him was sort of walking on eggshells, protecting or hiding something from him. Why was everyone being so secretive about Taehyungie? He was sure Jungkook must know something. And Namjoon? He had seen that look of complicity between the two. He wouldn’t have been surprised to discover Namjoon had taken the bracelet from him. It was obvious they were up to something.

Even before his collapse, Jimin and Jungkook’s relationship had suffered some sort of strain. Jimin knew what he did wrong, he knew hiding his migraines hadn’t proven to be such an excellent strategy, but Jungkook was also keeping his own secrets.

It was uncomfortable. He felt exposed, all his weaknesses now out there, for anyone to see. Is that how Jungkook had been feeling for all those years?

Jungkook looked different and acted different in front of the girl. And Jimin couldn’t stop thinking about that slight rosy colour that had never left Jungkook’s cheeks since the beginning of dinner.

The girl’s phone buzzed.

“Excuse me for a second, Yoongissi is calling me”

They listened to Yin’s steps fading into the corridor.

Jungkook suddenly stiffened. He let out a shaky breath, resting his head on the table.

“Yah, Gguk-ah, what’s wrong?”

Jimin sat up, alarmed.

“Jungkook, please, tell me what’s wrong”

He placed a hand over the boy’s head, and he lifted it up. His cheeks were extremely flushed, and his chest was heaving up and down.

“Kook…”

“It’s fine hyung, stay in bed. I- just give me a minute.”

With a bit of effort, he got onto his feet and walked towards the window. He opened it wide and breathed in the fresh evening air. His whole body was shaking uncontrollably, and his heart was beating absurdly fast. He felt queasy and anxious, and Jimin could tell by the way he absently stared off into space.

“Kook…”

At the call, the boy walked back to the bed, avoiding a specific corner of the room, which Jimin noticed.

“Sit here.”

Jungkook did as he was told, not lifting his eyes from the floor.

“Kook, tell me what’s going on…” Jimin murmured, taking one of the boy’s shaking hands into his.

“Hey… look at me… what’s up?” He gently lifted the boy’s chin up, but Jungkook had no intention to meet Jimin’s gaze.

Jimin retracted his hands, hurt. He desperately wanted to help, but Jungkook wasn’t allowing him into his life anymore. A sense of misery and helplessness overcame him.

“You won’t tell me what’s going on?”

Jungkook bit his lip.

“Is it the triggers? The memories? Do I have to call someone? Are you hurt somewhere?”

He shook his head.

Then what? What was it? Why was it suddenly so hard to interact with him? Had he upset him? What if he had said something he shouldn’t have?

“Won’t you tell me...?”

No answer came.

It was like talking to a wall. Where was his old Jungkook, the one who would tell him everything, and that would let him take care of him?

Who was this person?

Jimin had spent his life for him, abandoned his dreams for him. But now he was turning his back on him.

And if Jungkook wasn’t the same anymore, what was his role from now on? Who was he?

Looking at the boy, who, despite still trembling and hyperventilating, refused to tell him anything or to be helped, he wondered where all of this had gone wrong. When had it all started? Why was everything falling apart again, after all he had done to mend their lives?

“Fine. If you don’t want to tell me what’s going on that’s okay, but at least let me help. Is there anything I can do for you?”

Jungkook furiously shook his head.

“Hyung… don’t you think you’ve done enough? I am fine, I can manage it, you need rest. You’ve babysat me long enough. Just think about yourself for once…” He murmured in between breaths.

“Not again with this bullshit, Jungkook. I would do it all over again if I could go back. You needed help, and I’m glad I could be there. Why can’t I do that now too?”

“Because that’s not okay!” Jungkook finally exploded in anger, startling Jimin.

“What are you trying to say?” Jimin coldly answered.

“I’m tired, tired of weighing on others, hyung, tired of destroying other people’s lives, tired of slowly killing you!” he yelled, jumping up in frustration.

“Jungkook, you’re shaking, sit back down!”

The younger boy bitterly laughed. “Jungkook Jungkook Jungkook… Are you even listening to what I’m trying to say? This is not about me! You’ve freaking had the worst migraine of your life tonight, I’ve seen you cry in pain and suffer for hours on end, and all you can think of is my stupid anxiety?”

“That’s not the point-”

“That’s not- that’s not the point? Really Jimin? Should I remind you that the migraines started because of me? Because you neglected your needs to take care of me? I don’t even know why I let you destroy yourself for me like this! This is pathological, Jimin! On both sides! This is not how friends interact with each other! This is not how a family should work! This isn’t healthy, and we both know!”

Jimin’s blood boiled in his veins. He glared at Jungkook, clenching his fists around the bedsheets.

“Now, tell me Jungkook. Tell me. If this seems so wrong to you. Tell me, what was I supposed to do when you ran away from your parents, when you tried to kill yourself and would disappear from home for days on end? If you have such a clear idea of what is right and wrong, tell me, should I have left you to die on the street when I found you drunk and blacked out, badly hurt because you hated everyone and just wanted to pick up fights with anyone? If this isn’t okay, should I have just said ‘ah, well, my closest friend is trying to kill himself, what about leaving him here and selfishly pursuing my dreams while he slowly brings himself to death?’ that sounds perfectly alright!”

“Don’t misinterpret, hyung. I don’t know what would have been best for you or me. But you can’t tell me you think what we had is healthy. Because that isn’t. I don’t know what we could have done back then, and it’s useless to think about that. But why are you holding onto this role? You don’t have to do this anymore, hyung! Don’t you see it? I don’t get why you can’t just think about yourself! I don’t want you to spend the rest of your life destroying yourself because of me! We can change, we can change this now, and it will be so much better!”

“Change?” Jimin scoffed. “Changing isn’t an option anymore.”

“Why? If you can’t there must be a reason! Jimin, why can’t you accept this? You could get your life back, you could do what you actually like, and could stop doing things for me! You could even start dancing again!”

Jimin’s eyes watered.

“Don’t you fucking dare.”

“Don’t you dare mentioning d-dancing ever again.”

“Why? Do you think restraining yourself from doing what you like is going to help you? Why won’t you consider taking classes once again or something? That’s what you loved to do after all, and I miss seeing that sparkle in your eyes. I hate that I took it from you, and I won’t ever forgive myself for that, but you can dance again!”

“Get out.”

“No, hyung, I’m tired of this! Stop being so resistant! Let me settle things for once!”

“Get out I said.” Jimin growled. He was glaring at the boy, chest heaving up and down at an erratic pace, anger and grief showing through his eyes.

Jungkook felt guilty and was genuinely scared for Jimin’s wellbeing at this point. He knew he had crossed the line. He knew Jimin was still too weak to handle such fights, but his anger had blinded him.

The door burst open, revealing a panting Namjoon, visibly scared, clutching in his hand the tiny beeping alarm that had probably informed him of Jimin’s abnormal vitals.

“What the fuck are you two yelling about?”

It took Jungkook a second to notice. He turned around, and on the monitor next to Jimin’s bed, he noticed Jimin’s dangerously high heart rate.

The silence was broken by a sob.

Jimin’s composure had completely shattered, and he had now burst into tears. He could barely breathe in between sobs.

Only then did Jungkook realize just how much he had hurt him. He had never seen him so heartbroken, never so terrified and unable to calm down.

It had all been a terrible idea. Where had his self-control gone? What had he done? He looked in horror as Namjoon tried to calm Jimin down, unsuccessfully.

Tears started rolling down his cheeks. His breath hitched as remorse held his heart in a suffocating grasp.

Not being able to bear the sight of what he had done, he dashed into the corridor.

His feet moved on their own accord, and with his sight blurred by tears, he let them do whatever they wanted, too shaken to think about anything but the pain that was turning the beating of his heart into endless sobs and whimpers.

He ran, far, far away from Jimin, away from the tangible evidence of what he had just done. He ran until his legs were too tired, until his breathing was too fast for him to even get air into his lungs.

His hands and knees met the damp grass of the garden. He held onto it for dear life, as the world spun around him like it hadn’t done in a long time.

Painful spasms forced his whole body to contract in grief.

His burning tears fell on the ground, the warmth dissipating into a sea of coldness. Everything was dingy and frigid around him. The earth, under the shadow of his body, was blacker than it ever had been, as if the shadow itself was spreading out from him. That was the truth. For his whole life, he hadn’t done anything except destroying people’s lives, involuntarily or voluntarily. Jimin had happened to be one of the people who had received more pain because of him.

He curled up into a ball on the cold ground, replaying in his mind everything he had said, and regretting every single word that had come out of his damned mouth.

“Jungkook…”

A soft voice called.

His heart quivered in fear at that name, pronounced with such kindness. He didn’t deserve that treatment. He didn’t deserve mercy.

Still, he lifted his head towards the voice.

It was Yin, kneeling in front of him, a mixture of pity and tenderness in her eyes.

“Jungkook…” She whispered, extending her hand towards him.

Not her too, Jungkook thought. He would end up hurting her, as he had done with Jimin, and the other hyungs, and Junghyun. She had to leave, he himself had to do something, had to leave before he could destroy her life too.

But at the sight of that pale hand so caringly extended towards him, he hesitated. He couldn’t bring himself to refuse it. He couldn’t force himself to build distance between them.

“I’m here with you.” She said, eyes teary.

To that, he couldn’t hold back anymore. He tightly grabbed that hand, and burst into tears again, holding it, dearly, as if it were his only anchor not to drown in that world of misery. He cried and cried, reversing all his frustration into his sobs.

He was lost, lost in a dark forest, unable to find the way out.

His relationship with Jimin had cracked, they had grown apart. There was no hope, no glimmer he could see anymore. Jimin had let Jungkook take care of him when he had suffered the migraine, but as soon as he had come back to his senses, he had gone back to being Jungkook’s babysitter, and wouldn’t listen to anything Jungkook would say. But was this fight necessary? Could he have avoided it in any way? Why had he let himself shatter Jimin’s heart in that way after all Jimin had done to save him?

When he thought he had found a way to make everything work, his emotions had gotten in the way, his desire to do good had turned into a disaster, and he had fallen further down into the thickest briars of the forest.

Yes, he was lost. He had strayed from the path. What path though? Was there really a way out in that bundle of dark trees made of hopelessness? Had he ever found the right path, the right way to live? Had everything been a colossal illusion?

How arrogant of him, to think he could find the path on his own.

“… I don’t know what you’re going through. I don’t know anything. But I do know that beneath my hand lies a shadow. And if there’s a shadow, somewhere, although I can’t see it most of the time, there’s a moon gifting us its feeble light.”

The girl slowly laid down next to Jungkook, tightly holding his hand in hers.

“Hey…”

She whispered.

The boy finally lifted his eyes from the cold grass and looked around. He had lost all his reference points and felt alone. But in the obscurity of his mind, he saw the girl’s eyes. They were deep, shining in a delicate light. Tenderness was painted in her every look and gesture.

She smiled.

In the darkness of his despair, a light had appeared. There wasn’t any presumption in her words. No arrogance, no intention of being able to save anyone on her own. Only her hand, only her laying down with him, taking part in his misery and willing to suffer with him.

“Look up: what did I tell you?”

Jungkook still didn’t move.

“Trust me.” She whispered. “Look at the sky.”

When Jungkook finally complied, his eyes were immediately met with countless stars. An infinite universe, mysterious, sublime.

And there the moon stood, queen, reigning over the sky, lighting the world up with its pristine, pearly light.

He had tried doing everything on his own, and that had ended in disaster.

But she was pointing at something else. There was another way to do things. He knew nothing; he was scared and did not know how to mend the enormous cut he had made in Jimin’s heart and their relationship.

Yin, however, was willing to show him the light he was failing to see. From that tiny, fragile hand, a new warmth was radiating, strong, caring, making the damp sticks and wood in his heart crackle and smoke. She was reviving the fire of hope in him, the fire that had been extinguished by his arrogance and misery.

He knew nothing.

She knew nothing.

But she was seeing something he hadn’t been able to spot. There was a light, somewhere, up in the sky.

And he might as well try.

Chapter Text

External POV

“Hello?” the girl quietly stepped outside the room.

“Is it Yin?”

“Yes, i-it’s me.”

“I’m Yoongi, the psychologist. How are you doing?”

“Um... well... I guess?”

Yoongi chuckled.

“It was a bit vague for a question, sorry. Let’s start with the real stuff though. Uh- Don’t mind the chaos behind me, I’m walking towards the hospital and there’s quite a lot of people around here. I was planning on visiting Jimin because he… you know right?”

“Yes, I’m actually in the hospital right now. From what Jun- uh, Mr. Jeon told me, Jimin had a terrible migraine tonight, and he didn’t want to leave him alone, so I came here to have dinner with them.”

“Oh, really? Were you having dinner when I called you?”

She sat down on the wide steps that led to the garden lit by the moon.

“Um, no, I have just finished. I’m in the garden.”

“So, what I wanted to tell you is that I’m really happy you decided to continue with our sessions. We have to figure out a day though, so that we can keep it consistent and everything. Also, the first session will be a bit unusual, something more like data gathering. But I assure you that it is crucial for me to get a better understanding of your situation. The more I know you, the more I can develop an efficient strategy to tackle the issues you’re facing.”

“Oh, ok. And I guess that will involve me... talking about... stuff.”

Yin started playing with a tiny leaf she plucked out of a tall well-tended hedge that ran all along the white walls of the enormous building, which stood towering, cold as a solitary mountain in the middle of grassy lowlands.

Her hands were slightly shaking, but she diverted her gaze to the young leaf, tracing the leaf veins with a finger.

“Well, yes, of course you will have to talk.” He answered. “But don’t think of it as you having to openly talk about everything that might have ever happened to you. We’re going to take it slow, a step at a time. You’ll see, it won’t be as hard as you’re expecting it to be.”

“... okay.”

“So, would tomorrow around 4 pm be a good time for you? I don’t have many other options, but if that’s a problem, I can work it out differently.”

“No, no, I think that should be perfect, thank you.”

“Any questions?”

“Um… no, I don’t have any. Uh-”

“… Is something wrong?”

The girl quickly got on her feet. An echo of rushed and messy steps came from the hallway. Before she could look inside, a figure flew past her.

“Yin?”

“Oh my God… t-that’s Jungkook…”

Yoongi’s blood ran cold. Not again.

“J-Jungkook? Yin, could you please tell me what’s going on?”

“He j-just ran here to the garden, and now he’s crying. I...”

“Wait! Yin- Hello? Hello? Yin, answer me!”

She wasn’t listening.

“Shit-” Yoongi started walking faster, running even. The hospital wasn’t too far from there, but he was afraid something bad could happen before he arrived.

Had he overrated Jungkook’s mental strength? Had staying with Jimin been too much for him? Namjoon had told him he had suffered a mini breakdown the day before, but this?

He constantly tried to remind himself that Jungkook was in the hospital anyway. The doctors would be able to help him if things got out of hand. Still, it was better to prevent than to cure, and when, almost out of breath, he walked through the entrance door, he immediately flung himself towards the info desk.

“Oh, hello Mr. Min, are you here for-”

“Work, yes, and not only. I need to know Park Jimin’s room and the quickest way to the garden.” He urged in between breaths.

“Oh- um- yes, give me a second.”

The nurse scrambled to the computer. “It’s… um... let me check… it’s room 268, and if you can go straight down that corridor, there’s a door to the garden-”

“Thanks.”

Before the nurse could lift her gaze up, Yoongi had already vanished.

He ran down the hallway, his loud steps echoing around him. A couple of people’s heads poked out of the rooms as he passed, some shaking their heads in disapproval, some genuinely curious or entertained. He vaguely heard a couple of “be quiet!” and “Who was that?,” but he paid no heed to them.

He stumbled down the concrete steps and unsteadily landed on the grassy ground on his knees. He looked around for a second, heavily breathing. Trees. Trees everywhere. For what he knew, they could have been anywhere. Maybe they weren’t even in the garden anymore.

But then, walking along the hospital’s wall, turning the corner, he spotted two figures. They were leaning against a tree’s trunk, close to what looked like another staircase that led back into the building.

The girl was gently holding Jungkook’s hand, as he kept his head between his knees.

Yin lifted her gaze as Yoongi approached them.

He crouched down in front of the girl, placing a hand on her shoulder. “You okay Yin?”

She quickly nodded.

“Good.”

He then moved onto the boy.

“Jungkook”

“I fucked it up, hyung.”

He murmured between his knees, still tightly holding Yin’s hand.

“Explain yourself. I can’t understand what you’re talking about unless you do so.”

Jungkook sighed, lifting his head up. Yoongi could see he was making a serious effort not to cry and was quite amazed at how much self-control he was having.

“I… I know we had decided to wait before telling Jimin he should start living his life more, but… I got frustrated and couldn’t stand him getting worried about me and… we had a fight.”

He took a shaky breath. “I… shouted at his face everything I thought of the situation, and I did a terrible job at conveying it. He just didn’t want to listen, I even mentioned dancing, I know I shouldn’t have but.. and when I left the room… he was crying, and his heart rate was over the roof…”

The girl quietly stood beside them trying to make herself invisible. It wasn’t her place to know any of this.

He looked directly into Yoongi’s eyes.

“I’ve never seen him so desperate and broken, hyung. I did something horrible. I don’t think what I did is something I can mend…”

“Is Jimin alone or…”

“No, no there’s Namjoon with him, but…”

The older man took some time to elaborate on what Jungkook had told him. Eventually, he spoke.

“Listen Kook. That’s…. okay, we would have liked it to go differently. But you’re human, as we all are, and I didn’t expect you to ponder every word you say. Heck, not even psychologists can do that. What you said had to be said anyway, eventually. Don’t beat yourself up over it too much. It happened, that’s it.”

“But Jimin… I made him suffer so much…”

“Is your pain and regret magically going to fix what happened?”

“No…” the boy murmured.

“Then it’s useless. I’m not saying you should just ignore it. Hurting yourself, however, is definitely not the way to go. Learn from your mistakes. What you two lack is communication. It’s always been like that. Neither of you knows how to communicate. You keep everything in, bottle it all up and then explode when you can’t hold it in any anymore. If there’s something you should reflect on right now is how to prevent that from happening again. I think you do it more than you realize.”

Jungkook bit his lip, his brow furrowed.

“Listen, I’m going to have a talk with him too, okay? I’ll go to his room right now and make sure he’s fine. You two should go home and rest though.”

Yoongi waited for some sort of nod, but Jungkook stared down at the grass, silent.

“Both of you.” He stressed, eyeing the boy.

Jungkook let out a shaky breath “Fine... I can’t stay off work forever, anyway.”

“Good. I’ll send you a text later tonight. Don’t beat yourself up over this.”

“Okay…”

“Yin, tomorrow at 4 pm at my office, alright? Get plenty of rest.”

They said goodbye, and Yoongi walked back into the hospital. He sighed, looking around. Those two were going to be the death of him.

“Why’s this hospital so big?” Yoongi muttered, staring at the countless numbers on the doors.

After asking a nurse for directions, he finally reached the room. When he entered it, he saw Jimin was crying and hyperventilating.

“Yoongi!” Namjoon exclaimed, looking at him as if he were some sort of saviour.

“For how long has he been like this now?”

Yoongi murmured as he walked closer to the whimpering boy.

“More than 20 minutes by now. I don’t know what to do, I tried everything, but I can’t calm him down, he’s already exhausted his body enough, he shouldn’t be…”

“Let me try.”

Yoongi murmured as he pulled a chair next to the bed. He took one of the boy’s hands into his.

“Jimin.” He softly called.

“Jimin, it’s Yoongi. Listen, you have to calm down.”

“Hey. Jimin, look at me.”

Yoongi parted the strands of hair that were mostly hiding Jimin’s face. Jimin’s eyes darted across the room, from side to side, never resting, not focusing on anything.

“Is everything spinning around you?”

He nodded, tears marking his cheeks.

“You’ve seen it happen countless times. Come back to your senses. The more you hyperventilate, the dizzier you get. You have to calm down.”

But just as he pronounced those words, the pure fear in Jimin’s watery eyes reminded Yoongi of the fact that this was the first time the boy experienced a panic attack first-hand. And seeing it happen and suffering it yourself was completely different.

“Jimin, I need you to trust me. We’re not getting out of this if you don’t, okay?”

“Do you trust me, Jimin?”

Jimin slowly nodded.

“Namjoon, help me make him sit up.”

They made him lean on the bed’s head. Yoongi sat next to him.

“Lay your head back. Like this, good. Close your eyes.”

Yoongi pulled Jimin’s hair back once again, wiping the sweat off his forehead.

“Breathe in through your nose, slowly: no, don’t panic, you’re not suffocating, you’re simply scared. You won’t get any better by breathing fast. Take deep, slow breaths.”

“Namjoon, please turn the monitor off, it’s useless right now. It’s just making everyone more anxious.”

As the annoying beep disappeared, silence filled the room.

“Let’s relax. Relax your body Jimin, there’s nothing you need to protect yourself from.” Yoongi placed a hand on top of Jimin’s chest and guided him through the breathing.

It took a lot longer than expected, but Jimin finally managed to calm down.

It was comforting to finally see him a bit more relaxed but having a full-blown panic attack because of a fight wasn’t normal, and he had to work on this while Jungkook’s words were fresh in his mind, otherwise it would all have been useless.

“Jimin.” Yoongi said.

“I only have a vague idea of what Jungkook might have said, but that was probably what I wanted to tell you about. You know why you’re here.”

Jimin nodded, eyes low.

“We don’t have to figure it all out right now, Jimin, but I want you to keep in mind what Jungkook said. He might have been harsh, but what he said was probably what he had been wanting to say to you for a long time because he cares about you.”

“You’ve noticed Jungkook has changed, right?”

Jimin nervously played with the bracelet that loosely circled his thin wrist.

“He still panics… just before, he… he tells me he’s better, but that’s not true.”

“You can’t ignore it, Jimin. He has been handling things way differently since he met Yin. And he is getting better. You can’t deny he’s slowly learning to face his fears.”

Jimin was looking down, refusing to give an answer.

“Jimin.”

“I’d rather not talk about this. I’m really tired.” He shuffled around, but before he could lay down, Yoongi grabbed him by the wrist.

“I don’t care.”

Jimin hesitantly looked at him in confusion.

“I don’t care whether you’re tired or you’re sad or whatever. Stop behaving like a kid. You can’t keep running away and avoiding this conversation. The last time I tried to talk to you, you refused to acknowledge you had a problem, and that’s why you’re here.”

“I d-don’t care either, I just want to sleep. L-leave me alone.”

“Jimin. I don’t think you’ve understood what I mean. If it wasn’t clear before, let me explain it one more time: painkillers are not a solution. They never were, and especially not now. I’m not going to prescribe you a single medication anymore, and neither is Namjoon, or any doctor, because you’re not using them to get better, but rather to numb a pain that could be totally avoidable if only you got the guts to face this issue.”

Jimin squirmed uncomfortably under Yoongi’s grasp.

“Don’t you dare look away once again, Park Jimin. Look at me, right in the eyes.”

“Jungkook is getting better. I won’t allow you to deny that any longer. He is becoming independent; he doesn’t need to rely on you 24/7. You are friends, family even, and that’s fine. But you’re not his mother, and he’s not a sick child incapable of taking care of himself. I know why you did what you did, and it was thanks to you that Jungkook could grow up and survive the worst moments. And I assure you he has immense gratitude for what you did for him. He knows how much you gave up, and he doesn’t want you to go on like this anymore.”

“He is sick and tired of seeing you silently suffering and destroying yourself. And so am I. So is Namjoon. We don’t want to see you like this when you could be happy.”

Jimin chuckled.

“Happy... Yeah, of course. Why would I be happy when you all are rushing forward and abandoning me? Why the heck would I enjoy life when I know all of you are hiding things from me?”

Jimin’s voice was quivering, and his eyes burned with resentment.

“Don’t generalize. I don’t know about the others, but I’m not lying to you or keeping any secrets from you. And I have never done that. You know it yourself; I’ve always hated lies. And I’m not trying to leave you behind. Why do you think I’m here? You yourself are stopping yourself from going forward. You’ve gotten used to not having a life, to only feeling happy when Jungkook was happy, to only doing things because he needed them. And what about you? Now that it isn’t necessary and you’re left on your own, with no one to help, you just don’t know who you are anymore. “

“Stop it!” Jimin yelled, covering his eyes.

“No. You want us to be honest with you: I’m telling you exactly what I think. Stop hiding, look at me. I don’t give a shit about why you don’t want to listen, face it Jimin. I won’t allow you to continue like this.”

Jimin shook his head.

“No, no, I can’t change, not now.”

“And why not?”

Jimin’s eyes glimmered with tears.

“I-”

“You’re scared. What are you scared of?”

Jimin couldn’t find the courage to speak, as if saying it would make it come true.

“Jimin, calm down. You can’t keep running away from your problems. Take a deep breath and let’s talk this out.”

“What is it, Jimin? Why can’t you let your guard down?”

“Because I can’t!” He finally burst out.

“Why?”

“What is going to happen if I let my guard down and Jungkook needs help? What if he panics again and I’m not there to help him? What if I get too emotional and scared, and I can’t give him the support he needs? Yes, he might get better, but he was also getting better before Yin passed out in front of him! It always goes well until it doesn’t! I barely managed to keep him alive that time. What would have happened if he wasn’t with me? What would have happened if I was too terrified to help him?”

His eyes glimmered with unshed tears. A fear greater than what he had ever experienced was clutching his heart in a deadly grasp.

“I-If I let my guard down” he whispered, “t-then it will get overwhelming, and I won’t be able to fit back into that role anymore and... “

“That’s the problem Jimin, you can’t keep living in that role.”

“B-but then J-Jungkook…” he weakly stuttered.

It wasn’t working. He wasn’t listening to a single word.

“Listen, you have to understand this. Jungkook isn’t dying. You can still be there for him, I’m not saying that, just… please, take your life into your own hands. Don’t just live for him. You can’t go on like this. What do you like? What do you want to do? What do you think? Not Jungkook, but you.”

The boy didn’t answer.

“What do you want to do? Do you even want to be a nurse? Why don’t you-”

“I don’t know!” Jimin burst out, desperately fixating his eyes in Yoongi’s.

“Why do you all care so much about whatever I like or not? Why can’t we go back to what it was before? Who do you want me to become? Jimin, Jimin, Jimin! Jimin died back then, he’s gone! I don’t have things I like, things I want to do, desires. I don’t own anything! I’m nobody!”

Yoongi slapped him, leaving him and Namjoon gasping in surprise.

“Hyung, isn’t this too much?” Namjoon had jumped up from his chair, grabbing Jimin’s hand protectively.

“Sit back down, he needs to understand.”

Namjoon reluctantly did as told, and Yoongi turned back to the boy, who was holding his cheek in disbelief.

“Jimin is gone?” Yoongi echoed. “That’s something I’m not going to let you say or believe. I don’t know what sick and twisted reality you built in your mind Park fucking Jimin, but you did not die back there. You still have desires of your own and everything else. You’re just suppressing your personality. Quit saying bullshit and take your life back into your hands.”

“Do you want to go see a movie? Then fucking do that! Do you want to eat? To play videogames? To dance again? Do it! Nobody’s stopping you if not you yourself.”

Jimin coldly glared at Yoongi as burning tears ran down his cheeks.

“What do I want, you ask... I want to fucking sleep and be left alone, okay? Is it too much to ask? How many times do I have to hear you guys lecturing me about my life choices? If I chose to devote it to Jungkook, why the fuck can’t I do as I want?”

“Because I care about you!”

Yoongi yelled at the top of his lungs.

Namjoon gaped in bewilderment. Was Yoongi... on the verge of tears? His eyes glimmered, he stared into Jimin’s eyes, lips quivering.

“I don’t know if you noticed Jimin, but we all love you! I could have abandoned you all, and still, I didn’t! Why do you think I stayed? Do you think I’m draining myself just for fun? I’ve tried to help you and Jungkook out in every way possible. Do you think that after all the work I’ve put in, I want to see you bring yourself to death? I don’t want that! And I’m doing everything in my power to avoid it! But if you don’t help me, I can’t do anything for you!”

Yoongi took a moment to breathe. He sat.

“You’ve done enough harm, you’ve suffered enough. Just let go of this façade. Jimin…” He whispered.

“What if I can’t?” the boy murmured with a quivering voice.

Yoongi sighed. His eyes softened, and he gently took Jimin’s hand in his, holding back tears.

“Jimin-ah… I’m begging you… not as a psychologist, but as a friend. Please, don’t ignore everything I told you. I’m fine with you not agreeing now, but… at least keep in mind what me and Jungkook said. Just do me this small favour. It hurts to see you here and know you’re suffering. Maybe you can’t do it for your own sake. But think of Jungkook, he can’t bear to see you suffering like this, he was bawling his eyes out because of your pain. This is all being extremely hard on him. He won’t be free to finally be happy if he knows you’re not. Just… please, consider what I told you. “

“Will you?”

A tear rolled down the boy’s chin. He nodded, as a sob escaped his lips.

Yoongi held him in a tight embrace. He rubbed his back in soothing circles, barely being able to control his shaking hands.

“Let’s take it a step at a time, slowly. It will get easier, I promise. You’ve relied on you and you only for years… but… It doesn’t have to be like that. Trust me, Jimin, trust us. We don’t want anything if not for you to get better and be happy.”

Jimin burst into tears, letting out all the frustration he hadn’t in years. Yoongi didn’t move, holding Jimin in the tightest embrace possible. He closed his eyes, letting out a sigh of relief. Jimin’s defence had begun shattering. If he managed to break in a little more, there were good chances of changing things for the better.

Jimin gently removed himself from the embrace as Yoongi massaged his sore shoulder.

“Let’s go to sleep now. We all need it.” Namjoon murmured, collecting his stuff.

“Jimin, you can always call if you need help. How’s your head doing?”

“I… it hurts a bit.”

“But it’s not as bad as yesterday, not at all!” he quickly added.

“Try to rest then. I’ll check back on you tomorrow morning.”

When Yoongi walked out of the room, he was still shaking.

“Hyung, are you okay?” Namjoon murmured, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Yeah, I just need a good night of sleep. I’ll be fine.”

The younger still couldn’t believe how emotional and shaken Yoongi looked. He wanted to say something, but he was scared that if he said anything, he would have completely shattered. He was controlling his breathing and trying to hide the very evident shaking of his hands.

“Hyung…”

Eyes to the ground, Yoongi placed a hand on Namjoon’s shoulder.

“I’ll go now. Get some rest, Nam. Call me if there are any problems with Jimin.”

Before Namjoon could utter a goodbye, Yoongi had already turned the corner.

Chapter Text

External POV
The sliding doors closed before Yoongi. His eyes looked up at the starry sky. Not a single cloud could be seen, and the sweet summery breeze danced around in the empty parking lot. An ambulance passed him by on his way home. The sirens weren’t louder than Jimin’s loud yells that still echoed in his head. Everything looked bland in the dull darkness of the night. No sound could startle him, no cheerful chattering in the restaurants could lift his spirit; no sweet, flowery scent could bring to his mind any sort of fond memory from the faded past.

Everything passed him by, leaving him untouched. It all was a colourless, indistinguishable mass of sensation Yoongi couldn’t get a hold of.

He was welcomed home by the familiar jingle the door played whenever it was unlocked. That too, tonight, got on his nerves more than usual.

He dropped his key somewhere, not paying much attention to what he was doing. Despite wanting to disconnect from everything, his mind replayed sound and words that had got distorted and made little sense anymore.

Fidgety and restless, he walked up to his desk and opened the new book he had wanted study for so long. He passed a hand over the refined hard cover. It had been months since he had bought it, but it was still untouched, and a thin layer of dust had appeared on it.

He opened it. When he had bought it, he had been so eager to learn and analyse whatever could be contained in it. Ever since becoming a psychologist, he had wanted to specialize in children, and in childhood traumas. But now that he had the time to do so, the prospect of reading even half a page was quite unappealing.

He forced himself to do it anyway, secretly hoping the interest would come back as soon as he started.

That did not work, however, for his mind kept drifting away at every word.

Frustrated by the complete apathy he was feeling towards what he had so much desired to read, he shut the book and flopped onto the bed.

From there, he helplessly gazed at the endless pile of patients’ folders resting on the floor by his desk. Ah yes, he still had to review and catalogue all those too. He diverted his gaze to the ceiling. Everything was slipping out of his hands, and he couldn’t catch up. He was tired, he just wanted to stop thinking for once and black out.

Things were slowly progressing with Jungkook, Jimin and Yin. There wasn’t anything that was inherently turning out to be a failure. But he was exhausted, and every step forward just looked too small compared to the lengthy road that twisted and turned in front of him, fading into endlessness.

The clock hung on the wall changed, but Yoongi didn’t. He was still laying on the bed, lifeless. How had he managed, despite knowing everything a psychologist knew, to lead himself back into such a dark and negative headspace? He couldn’t find any enjoyment in his work, he was completely drained by everything, and felt lonely, as lonely as when...
Better not to remember those times.

“Ignoring your past won’t help you get out of this, Yoongi.”

Professional deformation, he thought, half smiling. That was what he would tell his clients. But, in fact, doctors are the worst patients, and that could be applied to psychologists too. For some reason, they never believe that anything they teach to patients could work on them and ignore their issues more than they should.

The world had rapidly become duller and more tedious than he would have liked to admit. Yes, he felt emotions when he was helping Jimin and Jungkook, or his patients, but as soon as he was left on his own, a familiar dread would take over him. He felt heavy, didn’t want to have fun nor to come out of his apartment.

He was getting a bit too used to not communicating with anyone outside what was strictly necessary for work. Lying in bed all day had become far more desirable than he remembered it ever being, and whichever interest he had developed was unappealing now.

He still forced himself to get up and go to work every day and did all he could for his patients. But if having a reason to get up in the morning meant finding a personal purpose and meaning, he currently couldn’t find any.

He had no dreams, or at least, the tiny achievements and aspirations he had treasured and watered as a gentle flower with so much care now felt pointless. The flowers, not yet fully bloomed, had turned into unwanted weed.

Resigned, he shut his eyes, drowsiness slowly creeping up on him.

It had been a long time since he’d ever felt this numb and hopeless. A long time indeed, but not enough for him to forget. It seemed to him to have somehow strayed back to his childhood when nothing brought him joy.

He felt as if he were underwater: floating, sinking more and more towards an unknown abyss. Where was the surface? He could see the sun glimmering somewhere, but it was too far, and he was too tired to move at all.

The green, Busan ocean was all around him, empty, desolate. There was no shore to reach, no rocky wall on which to hold. He was lost.

All sounds came muffled to his ears, cold was making his way to his body from the murky waters beneath him; a frozen hand extending its long shadowy claws, untouchable and yet fierce, unbeatable.

He could taste the salty water on his lips, and yet he could still breathe; he floated, and yet he sank.

After all, why not. Why not let himself go to sleep? There was no point in staying awake, anyway. Why not put an end to …

The water gurgled not far from him. He opened his eyes to the ocean once again.

A voice was calling him, a hand was coming from the surface towards him, breaking the surrounding murk.

He wanted to reach for it, but the more he tried, the more he sank. Breathing was becoming harder, his lungs constricted in a deathly grasp.

With a last breath, Yoongi let out a muffled scream.

“Save me!”

He jolted up on the bed, gasping for air.

Light was shining through the blinds, painting white strokes on his bedsheets. On his bedside table, his alarm was ringing, tormenting his ears with its horrible buzzing.

It was just a nightmare, he thought, letting himself fall back down on the bed with a sigh.

He passed a shaky hand through his hair.

“Calm down, Yoongi. No need to be scared, right?”

But no amount of speaking would lower the pace of his heart. He felt as if he were still drowning in the sea. He obviously knew that wasn’t the case, but he couldn’t convince his body. All the physical inputs he received pointed to the fact that he was indeed still drowning. A weight was pressing on his chest, so much so that it hurt to move at all, let alone try to suck a breath in.

The alarm had just given up on screaming its stupid jingle when Yoongi’s phone buzzed again. He stared at it on the bedside table.

“I should pick up,” he kept thinking. But for some reason, he couldn’t. The noise continued, intensifying Yoongi’s discomfort every second that passed.

His body wasn’t responding to any of his signals, and even thinking of doing the slightest action put enormous strain on his mind.

The buzzing interrupted his attack on Yoongi’s heart, only to start again shortly after.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” he yelled, the anger giving him enough drive to reach the phone and take it in his hands.

On the screen, Jungkook’s number was displayed. After taking the deepest breath his body allowed him, he finally picked the call up.

“H-hello?”

“Oh, hi Hyung! Are you busy? Are you already at work?”

“N-no… w-what is it that you want?” he whispered in a weak voice.. He was staring at the blank wall in front of him, trying to keep his mind under control.

“Um… is everything alright, hyung? Why are you out of breath?”

“It’s nothing, don’t worry. Did you want to ask me something?”

“Actually, yes…” Jungkook continued, a hint of suspicion in his voice.

“I mean… you didn’t call me yesterday, so… you know… you told me you would tell me something about Jimin. I tried to stop thinking about it, but my mind’s always going back to all the worries and everything.”

Ah, right, Jimin. He had completely forgotten about that. He had to focus. It wasn’t exactly easy, given that he was breaking out into a cold sweat, and all his movements were shaky and jittery.

“S-sorry about that, I forgot.” Yoongi searched his mind for the memories of the evening before.

“I talked to him. I calmed him down and tried to explain everything. He doesn’t want to accept it, but w-with a bit more time, I think he will.”

“Thanks, hyung. I messed up pretty badly yesterday.”

“Stop thinking like that, I already told you this.” Yoongi kicked the bedsheets out of his way, too nervous to feel them weighing on his body.

“Is it okay if I visit him tonight? Or should I stay away?”

“Yeah, do that.” He mumbled, trying to get a grip on reality.

“Do what? Hyung,” Jungkook tentatively said.

“Are you sure you’re fine?”

It took him a conscious effort to utter a reply.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t mind what I said. I’m still sleepy. A-and late.”

“Okay, sorry for disturbing you hyung. Thanks for the info. Please… don’t overwork yourself. If you need help, call, or say something. You’re always helping us, but…”

“I’m fine don’t worry. Bye Kook.”

“Um… okay, bye…”

And on that note, the conversation ended. Yoongi let the phone fall on the bed. He laid still, staring back at the ceiling. It seemed to him a deep torpor had overtaken him, and he was now fighting in his mind to force himself out of bed.

This day was gonna be hell.

-----------------------------------------
The day hadn’t started great for Yin either. After a sleepless night and two extremely tedious classes on phonetics and grammar, she dropped her bag on the floor next to her desk in the back of the literature room. She always sat there, in the corner near the window. It was her favourite spot, from which she could glance at the sky from time to time, gazing, in wonder, at the ever-changing shades of blue and orange, depending on the time of the day.

Today, however, when she looked out on the deserted campus, as the students slowly poured into the classroom chatting, the sky looked unusually dull and uninteresting.

The perspective of meeting Yoongi that afternoon had caused her to be jumpy and on edge all day. She was intimidated to say the least, scared, even, of what was to come. A shadow was looming over her; and it was growing thicker, hour after hour, dark and heavy, pressing on her chest and shoulders.

The morning lessons had done nothing to ease her distress, and had in fact accentuated it, so much so that she had inadvertently started rubbing her wrist again. By the time she realized, she was already far too gone and nervous to stop herself. She tried pulling the sleeves down to the tip of her fingertips, but her hands would find a way around it.

With a sigh, she dropped her head on the desk. She closed her eyes and tried taking deep breaths to ease her tension. Lulled by the uninteresting conversations that were happening all around her, her body gradually stopped fighting against her. Everything got muffled around her, and she was already far gone when a hand unexpectedly grabbed her.

She jumped up, startled, knocking some books off her desk as she glued herself to the wall in a last attempt at self-defence. Eyes wide open in fear, she lifted her head up only to see Mina, just as surprised, staring back at her.

“Whoa, didn’t mean to startle you… sorry!”

Yin gazed around in confusion. Her heart was pounding in her chest. She was sure she had felt someone violently grabbing her. She was half expecting to be slammed against a wall, but that hadn’t happened. And looking around now, she could see she was still in the classroom, people still talking and laughing cheerfully as if nothing had happened.

As she glanced at the classroom, she met Jungkook’s gaze. He was looking directly at her, an eyebrow arched in concern.

She quickly knelt down and collected her books.

“Hey, are you okay? What’s wrong?”

Yin let out a shaky breath, sitting back on the chair.

“I-you- I was sleepy and… you surprised me…” she gesticulated, confused.

Mina eyed the girl suspiciously. “Are you sure you’re fine? You’re quiet. I mean, you’re always quiet, but today more than usual. Is something wrong?”

What should she say? She didn’t want to lie to her but couldn’t bring herself to open up either. What was wrong with her, anyway? Ever since she had seen that damn scar on Jungkook’s arm, things had resurfaced. Ant they were getting more frequent, and more intense. Sudden memories, feelings, sounds. And it was already scary enough. She couldn’t imagine forcing herself to remember, to talk about those things with someone who was still basically a stranger to her. She wasn’t exactly the best at opening up, although she wanted to.

“Hey, Yin”

“Yin!”

The girl’s eyes met with Mina’s.

“Why are you so pale? You’re scaring me.”

Yin could feel Jungkook’s worry from there. She tugged a strand of hair behind her left ear and slid down her chair in a desperate attempt to hide. She would have just liked to melt away into nothingness and disappear.

“Has it to do with… that thing?” she whispered the last word, as if trying not to embarrass her friend.

Yin quickly shook her head. Eating was the last of her problems at the moment. Although fear was definitely twisting her guts enough to make her dread the lunch she was going to have in less than an hour.

Mina wasn’t quite convinced, but before she could ask anything else, the bell rang, and she reluctantly walked off towards her desk. Never had Yin been so grateful for her friend’s near-sightedness. She always had to sit in the front rows, and that meant that, for this lesson at least, she was safe. She knew she wasn’t gonna escape her inquisitive questions tonight when she would come back from the psychologist session. Assuming she would survive that.

Yin let out a shaky breath and quickly opened her book, hoping the lesson would distract her for some time.

Time flew by, and despite they were working on quite an interesting author, she had gotten worse.

“Okay guys, let’s stop here, we will keep going on Friday. Don’t forget to bring the worksheet I gave you, okay?”

A chorus of “Yes” signalled the end of the lesson. Yin was about to exit the room, following the crowd, when Jungkook called her.

He glanced at the girl’s wrist in worry. It was all red and irritated.

Noticing the stare, she forced herself to stop rubbing it and slid her sleeves down. She crossed her arms over her stomach, hoping she wouldn’t do much damage to herself that way.

“We have lunch together, remember?”

“Ah… that’s right.”

Worry was written all over Jungkook’s face, although he tried not to show it.

“Let’s go then…” he murmured, grabbing his bag.

Jungkook set the table, eyeing the girl once in a while. She was absently staring at the wall, her wrist still red from too much rubbing. She wasn’t stopping either. Once in a while, she would start rubbing it again for some time.

Was he supposed to do something? Was she going to panic or freak out if he said anything triggering? He didn’t know how to act, and so he avoided doing anything risky for some time, focusing on warming the food up and getting everything ready for lunch. But the more he waited, the paler the girl got. It was getting scary. He was still unsure about what to do, but when she started to breathe shakily, fear got the best of him, and he decided to intervene.

“Hey…” he murmured, sitting next to her. He handed her a glass of water, which she took with shaky hands.

“Is everything alright?”

She took a deep breath. “I’m- just really… overwhelmingly anxious.” She stuttered in a whisper. And saying it out loud seemed to have the opposite effect of what Jungkook had hoped. She was nervous and restless, her chest heaving up and down way quicker than it should have had.

“Okay, listen, breathing quickly won’t help you. Try to take a deep breath.”

He would have liked to hug her, but he had a feeling that touching her would have made it worse. She looked scared and uncomfortable. Her pallor terrified him. It was something he never wanted to see again. Too many bad memories, too many nightmares had adopted that dull colour he now associated with death and death only.

He urged his heart to slow down; he took deep breaths himself. He needed to focus on her, not on his past.

“Whatever it is you’re worrying about, it doesn’t matter. You’re safe, everything is fine, there’s no need to be scared.”

She nodded, although hesitance could still be seen in her eyes, watery with overwhelming exhaustion.

“Wait, I… I’ll make you some tea.”

In a second, the boy was back with two steaming cups of tea.

It made little a difference, but at least it gave Jungkook time to observe the girl and think of something. He took a sip, wishing Jimin would have been there to tell him what to do.
What would Jimin do if he were here? What could he do to ease her anxiety? His eyes fell on the girl’s irritated wrist, which she was once again obsessively grabbing and unconsciously clawing at with her nails. Jungkook had better do something about it before she hurt it further. He quickly collected bandages and lenitive ointments, and whatever he thought could be useful in some way.

“Um… Yin?” the girl lifted her teary eyes from the steaming cup she was still holding in her shaky hands.

He pulled a chair in front of her. “Can I…” he offered his hand, pointing at hers. She shot an unsure glance at his hand, then at him.

“Just to… make it better. I’ll be gentle, I promise.”

She extended her shaky hand towards him. He didn’t move, letting her decide when and how to be touched. When her fingers finally rested on Jungkook’s hand, she drew a breath she wasn’t aware of holding in.

Slowly and careful not to hurt her, he gently wrapped his fingers around her hand. He placed it on his legs and picked up one of the ointments, furrowing his brows.

For a second, watching Jungkook pouting at the different lenitive creams, Yin forgot her problems. How cute, she thought. Her body slowly relaxed, and her lips curved in a small smile.

The unexpected gentleness with which her hand was being held caught her off guard. She remembered the rough hand grabbing her in her dream, and for some reason, she had expected Jungkook’s hand to be the same. But now wonder filled her heart, relief, the warmth of his hand spreading out through her body.

It felt so strange. Never had a touch been so careful, delicate. Touch had always made her uncomfortable, but this time she felt safe.

“I have to confess something…” Jungkook murmured when he was about to wrap the bandage on her wrist.

“I… have absolutely no idea what I’m doing here. Just… I’m doing whatever I think is best, but… I’m not Jimin,” he nervously laughed.

“I-its fine” She softly smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

Her heart was pounding in her chest. All the fear had vanished. How that could have happened, she still didn’t understand, but in a mere second, her entire world had been transfigured. It wasn’t a cold, desolate wasteland anymore, rather an idyllic clearing amid luscious woodlands. The warm sun shone on every murky den and cheerful dale, and an ambrosial scent danced from flower to flower. She suddenly found it easier to smile, a merry contentment she couldn’t give a name to spread through her. She felt lightweight, as if she were dancing barefoot under a lukewarm spring drizzle, a silky chiffon dress foaming up around her ankles, wavering in the wind as if it were made of nothing but fine mist.

“There,” Jungkook smiled fondly, his front teeth sticking out as a bunny as he tied a knot in the bandage. “It should be better this way… I hope”

The girl stared in awe, unable to formulate a proper answer.

“Better?”

“B-better.” She stammered, lowering her gaze as if suddenly awaken from a dream. Jungkook’s fingers left her hand, and she caught herself wishing that his touch had lingered a bit more; warm, tender, safe.

“Wanna… talk about it?”

There it was, the much-dreaded question. She had almost forgotten about it.

“Only if it’s not too burdensome to tell…” Jungkook added in a soft voice.

“I… I’m doing my first session with Yoongi today. T-the more I wait, the more anxious I get. It’s… I know I’ll have to talk about… things… which I’m not even comfortable thinking of. And… I’m scared.”

Jungkook nodded. “I understand…”

He sat back next to her, playing with a scrap of the bandages he had tied around the girl’s wrist.

“When I first went to Yoongi… despite him being one of my closest friends and although I had lived with him for a long time, I was terrified. Having to speak about those things seemed absurd and way too painful. It had been quite a long time, and recalling everything that… well… I think you know what that feels like.”

A shadow of reawakened despair passed over Yin’s heart. Jungkook must have noticed that, because his fingers found their way to hers, and they delicately protected her hand as if to give her courage against that insurmountable mountain looming over her-

“But that was only in the beginning. It got easier the more I talked. Yoongi was still very inexperienced, and I had no intention of facing my problems. I liked to dri-”

He cleared his throat.

“I… preferred to numb myself and forget. So I only made it harder for all of us. He had to force the words out of me. I’m sure it will be way better for you.”

His words echoed into silence, and for some time, the beating of their inexperienced hearts was the only low murmur hat could be heard.

“I don’t know what you went through, but… you’re strong Yin, way stronger than many people out there, way stronger than me.”

Jungkook suddenly broke the silence. His ears had turned red, and he was avoiding eye contact altogether.

If the girl’s heart was beating before, it now was a volcano, exploding in a turmoil of unknown feelings. It was terrifying, but not completely unpleasant. There was something more, a strange excitement, a new amazement and fondness she had never even come close to experiencing in her life.

Their meal continued merry and cheerful. Yin had regained her appetite enough to at least eat half of what she usually ate. Jungkook made no comment on that, nor did they speak of what had happened. They talked of their favourite authors, losing themselves in their own little bubble, as they had done they day before, and the one before that, and all the ones since they had ever gotten to know each other.

Light glimmered in their eyes as words almost jumped out of their mouths on their own accord, and before long they were deep into a debate on John Keats and his idea of art and beauty.

If anyone had accidentally walked by, he would have probably regarded them as crazy. Of all the things people could talk about, there they were, reconstructing authors’ thoughts and deeply thinking of life and death, and the nature of the human heart. They still knew nothing of their own hearts, and yet they dug deep into the hearts of others, searching for a way, a thread that could lead to all the others, the centre of human nature.

Silence fell on them as they prepared to leave the intimacy of their world.

The dreaded thought of Yoongi’s visit came back looming over the two, as black as ever, now that they were about to part.

“Maybe… I could… come with you. I mean… I won’t invade your privacy, just… I could accompany you to the building…” Jungkook murmured, unsure, when the girl was already on the door.

Relief washed over her, as she nodded.

“It’s settled then. I’ll wait for you at the University gate in a couple of hours,” the relief could be heard in Jungkook’s voice.

“Yes, see you then,” the girl shyly mumbled, before disappearing into the corridor.

Chapter Text

External POV

“Come, don’t be afraid. It will be fine, I promise you” Jungkook extended his hand towards Yin, standing on the doorstep.

Some sort of hesitance was holding her back. Jungkook remembered that terrified look in the girl’s eyes all too well. Too many times had he been dragged inside, refusing to face his problems. Too many times had he been encouraged to walk inside that building and had found no strength to do so.

He knew what it felt like to be thrown into such a situation, unwilling and scared.

And so he waited, softly smiling, his hand still offered to the girl.

Before long, Yin resolved to go. Jungkook’s hand didn’t leave hers, as he calmly guided her to a door at the end of the corridor, which she vaguely remembered to be Yoongi’s office.

It wasn’t long before Yoongi appeared on the doorstep.

“Jungkook?” he furrowed his brow.

“Hi hyung. I- I just accompanied her. Can I just… have a word with you before…” he looked back at the girl.

“Yeah, sure. Come in.”

Jungkook reassuringly smiled at Yin before disappearing behind the shut door.

“What is it Kook?”

“Listen hyung.” he whispered, nervously glancing at the closed door.

“She’s been on edge all day; she’s terrified of having to remember whatever she went through. She almost had a panic attack before. I don’t know what you’re planning, just… don’t ask her too much, if possible.”

Yoongi nodded.

“I had thought of that possibility. Don’t worry. I’m not going to start as I did with you. I have something in mind. You told me she enjoys writing, right?”

“Yes.”

“Then everything should be fine.”

“Good. I’ll wait out here.”

“Kook.” Yoongi called just as Jungkook was making his way towards the exit.

“Are you all right? How are you coping with all this?”

Jungkook took his hand off of the handle. “It’s… just going. Not too well, not too bad. Today was… I didn’t like seeing her pale like that. You know I… yeah.”

“Is it just that?”

The boy let out a shaky breath. Despite avoiding Yoongi’s sight, he could feel his eyes piercing through his soul, leaving him bare.

“Jimin... isn’t here, and I’m starting to feel a bit overwhelmed by everything that’s happening. The sooner we help her, the better. I don’t know how long I can endure it before relapsing.”

Yoongi nodded knowingly.

“You know it’s not a straightforward process… nor a quick one. For now, you’ll have to be patient. But if things get too difficult, call me. I’m always here, and I’ll do my best to help you with whatever you might need.”

Jungkook sighed.

“Thank you… I wish I were independent. Jimin wouldn’t have ended up like this if I… and now I’m weighing on you too…”

“Regrets are useless, Jungkook. You’ve come a long way, and you’re learning and getting better every day. Don’t let fear get the best of you, nor discouragement. Progress is always progress, for how slow it might be.”

Jungkook didn’t answer, as he always did when he knew the other person was right.

“Good. Then try to take some time for yourself, relax, do something that you like. Try to get your mind off of everything. Don’t even visit Jimin. It would only be awkward for both of you. We have to let him think about what we told him.”

“Oh, okay…”

“Make Yin come inside then.”

“Yes.”

Jungkook walked out, confused. He had gone in to talk about Yin and had instead received counselling himself.

The girl’s eyes shot up in fear as the door creaked open. Jungkook reassuringly smiled, although Yin’s pallor unsettled him and filled him with worry about what was to come.

“Sorry for the wait,” he softly murmured.

“Everything will be fine, I promise you. Don’t be scared.”

He let himself fall down on one chair as soon as the door closed.

What promises? He was just as scared as her, and despite Yoongi’s reassurance, he was still quite doubtful about just how his friend would make the girl feel at ease.

Before he could notice, he was dialling a familiar number on his phone: Jimin’s.

He put his phone away.

How ironic, he thought. It had never occurred to him just how used he was to take for granted Jimin’s help and presence. Just how many times had he barged into his apartment, how many times had he called him in the middle of night, completely focused on his own needs and pain?

And when he ran away drunk that night, and Jimin searched every nook and cranny until the sun rose? Just how terrified must he have been? How exhausted, angry, even, he must have felt.

He had slowly tortured Jimin, day and night, gnawing at his sanity, insatiably requesting his aid, until he...

Until Jungkook broke him.

Jimin was strong. He had carried on in this inhumane way for years, but the unbearable pressure had finally taken its toll on him.

And what did Jungkook do then? He should have comforted him, apologized, he should have tried to make amends. But that would have been just too simple, too straightforward. Instead, Jungkook had to fuck it all up. He insulted Jimin and spat on all the help his friend had offered him. What an ungrateful idiot he was.

He took out his phone once again, ready to call Jimin, to run to him if it was necessary, and beg for forgiveness, plead, on his knees.

He actually got up, ready to rush to Namjoon’s hospital just as his heart urged him to.

Was it gonna help, though? Was his begging going to heal Jimin? No, there was nothing that could be magically fixed by any number of regretful words of his.

He walked towards the bathroom instead, locking himself inside, heavily leaning on the cold marble of the sink.

The painful flame that burned in his heart was quenched by a waterfall of tears, falling densely into a dark pond of bitter regret.

He could say whatever he wanted, Jimin’s dream of making a career in dance was spoiled, his body exhausted, his mind on the verge of breaking. And he caused that. It was him, that with his continuous needs and refusal to face his consequences had forced Jimin into the vicious cycle of pain and painkillers he was now struggling to be freed from.

Jimin had been dedicating his whole life to him, and now Jungkook was angry at him for simply doing what Jungkook himself had been forcing him to do.

Jungkook still believed Jimin’s current lifestyle wouldn’t have been healthy for any individual, but was Jimin to blame for it? Could all this pressure be put on him? Wasn’t it extremely cruel to shove him down this unhealthy path and then blame him and pretend for him to change overnight?

His phone buzzed in his pocket. It was Taehyung.

Jungkook wiped his wet cheeks and took a deep breath.

“H-hello?”

“Kook? Everything alright? I-is something wrong?”

The younger man cleared his throat.

“I’m... it’s just...”

Jungkook was quite unsure about what to say. Although they had been good friends in the past, and they still enjoyed each other’s company, the distance of those 8 years of being apart had insinuated doubts in Jungkook’s heart. He didn’t want to dump all his problems on Taehyung as he had done with Jimin before.

“Kook?”

“I-I’m fine”

Taehyung stood silent for some time.

“You’re not fine, are you?”

“N-no, I mean, yes but..”

“Are you free tonight?” the older boy interrupted Jungkook’s nonsensical rambling.

“Um... yes?”

“Wanna hang out with me? Maybe we can have dinner or something, or simply take a walk”

“R-really?”

“Yeah, really. Han river? The usual spot?”

“Well... okay”

“I’ll come pick you up at seven at the university then. Is that fine?”

Jungkook was stunned.

“Y-yes...”

“Good. See you then, Kook-ah.”

Before Jungkook could even reply, Taehyung had hung up.

--------------------------------------------

“So, here we are, Yin.” Yoongi sat down at his desk after closing the door.

“Take a seat.”

The girl quietly sat down, nervous.

“I’ve heard… you had some issues today. Is that also related to what’s going on?” he pointed at her bandaged wrist.

She instinctively hid it under her sleeve, uncomfortably staring down. “Oh… um… yes. It’s… I just rub my wrist a lot when I get anxious about… those things that happened.”

Yoongi stood observing her behaviour for a bit. He then pulled out a piece of paper and slid it towards Yin.

“Okay, let’s not dwell on that for now. Just answer this: would you be more comfortable talking about yourself or other people, like your relatives and friends?”

She thought about it, but she couldn’t come up with a clear answer.

“Let me explain better: which one would you be able to describe more? Yourself, or other people?”

“Other people… I guess?” she unsurely replied.

“Okay then. Let’s try this. Turn the paper. You see there’s a list of things on there. I would like you to write a name next to each thing. Can you do it for me?”

“Oh, okay…”

She handed the paper back. Yoongi quickly read through the list, nodding in understanding.

“Good. Now, what I would like you to do is write something about why you chose them. A couple of adjectives will be enough, but if you have more to add, that’s perfectly okay.”

Still hesitant, she took the paper back and started writing. It was hard, but it spared her much of the pressure of speaking. They weren’t digging into her past right away, and although all of this still felt like an uncomfortable violation, she was fine with it as long she only had to write and not speak.

Having to give reasons for the names she had written proved to be much harder than expected. She soon realized many of the people she had previously assigned to certain categories didn’t fit as well as she had originally thought.

When she finally handed the paper back, it was much less empty and filled with corrections. The hardest part had been writing the first name on that blank piece of paper. The void before her troubled her greatly. But after the first struggle, as the white was replaced by the dark ink, it became easier, to the point she was almost enjoying it.

“Thank you.” Yoongi smiled.

“Now that you’ve written a good deal about others, I would like you to try to do something a bit different for yourself. Can you spot a moment in your life recently that made you change in any way? A moment where maybe the circumstances changed, or something really unexpected happened? I would like you to write that down in the corner of this paper.”

She pondered for a long time, chewing on the top of her pen. Her whole life had been recently turned upside down, and every day crazy things happened, to the point that it was near impossible to spot a specific moment. But there was a date, which kept popping up in her mind.

“29th of April 2021?”

Yoongi read aloud.

“Yes. It was… well… when…”

“You can write it down if it’s better for you.” He reminded her.

“Right…”

The day Jimin and Jungkook had discovered her anorexia. It had been the moment her whole life had changed. For the first time, someone had told her there was something wrong with her. “Everything’s fine, you’ll be fine, you’ll forget as you grow up.” Those were the biggest lies she could have ever heard. Her aunt had tried to comfort her when she had moved to Seoul after her father’s death. All bullshit. All those years and nobody had had the guts to tell her what was wrong with her.

Despite having issues of their own, these two guys, who she barely knew, poured their hearts into helping her. Jungkook, who was already suffering from the aftermath of having lost his brother to anorexia, had eaten lunch with her every day, had comforted her and always had words to give her hope. Jimin had gone with them at the literary convention, had exhausted himself, and had done everything he could to help her.

She still found it hard to understand what was really going on with her anorexia and other traumas. But at least someone had taken the time to point out the stuff she didn’t have the mental readiness to acknowledge. It all started there. Well, maybe not all, but that surely had been a key point in determining why she was finally getting treatment now.

“Do you believe you have in some way changed since then? I mean, it’s not that long ago, but still, many things could happen in less than a month. If you can, could you please write what you thought about yourself back then and what you think now?”

She thought about it for a second.

What did she think of herself then? Wasn’t it what she thought even now? That was easy. Words slipped out with no effort, and she jotted everything down, adjective after adjective. But the more she went on, the more her hand faltered. Suddenly, she stopped writing. Those adjectives weren’t as convincing as before. She looked at the words scribbled furiously on the paper, as if those weren’t her own thoughts. They all felt so distant, and… cruel.

“What’s the matter?” Yoongi had noticed the sudden shift in her expression.

“I… I think these things… or at least I thought those were things that described me… just… I mean, I still believe them, sometimes. But they... are really harsh.”

Yoongi smiled.

“And what do you think now?”

Yin took a deep breath. Before the pen could touch the paper, she looked up, lost.

“I… I d-don’t know what to think,” she stuttered.

“Maybe we will get to expand that in the next weeks, hmm?” he gently took the paper and slid it in a bright yellow folder together with other papers.

“I’ll keep it here. Whenever you discover something, or disprove something you believed, write it down, and we can add or remove it here.”

“Now, Let’s talk about something else. There is something in your past that comes back to your mind at specific moments and terrifies you. Am I right?”

“C-correct.”

“I’m not interested in investigating that right now.”

Yin unconsciously relaxed at those words.

“I’d like to concentrate more on how you react, so that, while we work at it, you can learn to control your fears.”

He put another paper in front of her.

“I’ll ask some questions. You can either answer by talking or write it down if you feel uncomfortable. I’m also giving you a scale. As I ask you questions, I’m going to ask you how uncomfortable you feel about it from one to ten, one being you don’t mind at all and ten being it is having a physical impact on you right now and you want me to stop. All clear?”

She nodded.

“Good. I’ll start then. The memories that scare you... did you always experience them?”

“…no.”

“Everyone told me I would forget, and I thought I had done so.”

Yoongi took notes.

“It worked for some time… but then… I remembered again, or, well, I realized what had really happened back then.”

“When was the first time you realized that?”

“When I visited… my mom… during spring break.”

“Are you on good terms with your mom?”

“I’ve been living with my aunt since when I was fifteen. I hadn’t seen her in years, so I just… thought it would have been nice for her to see me.”

“And how did she react?”

“She was happy to see me… I think.”

“You think?” Yoongi frowned.

“I mean… she’s strong and independent, and… she takes care of everything in her life. Everything’s under her control now that her husband is gone.”

Yoongi wrote everything down. “On a scale from 1 to 10?” he asked.

“Four…”

“Good. Let’s continue then. What did you do during spring break? Did you stay at your mom’s place?”

“Yes. It was actually really fun, she’s nice, and always puts effort into looking good and taking care of herself. She exercises, eats healthy and…”

“How did it make you feel?”

“What?”

“The fact that she was so beautiful and healthy.”

Yin fiddled with the pen, trying to muster up enough courage to speak.

“I wanted to be like her.”

“In what did you believe to be different? What did you want to change about yourself?”

“I…. I’m not as self-assured as she is, and my body… I was quite unhappy with my weight and my general… appearance.”

“So what did you do?”

“I… tried to take control of what I ate and exercise a lot. It was nice.”

“Why was it nice?”

“When I went running, she came with me, and she told me a great deal about fitness and eating. It made me feel ...happy.”

“Did your mom look at you the same way before you did that?”

The small smile that had appeared on the girl’s lips immediately vanished. She furrowed her brows.

“On a scale from 1 to 10?” Yoongi said after giving her some time.

“S-six.”

Maybe he could push her a bit more before stopping.

“Did your mom talk about your father when you were there?”

“How do you know it was my…”

“You wrote it here…” Yoongi pointed at the paper.

“Oh, right... S-she told me he was a terrible person, and only then did I realize what he really used to do to her... and to me...”

Yoongi’s eyes flashed to Yin’s arms. She was tightly gripping her wrist.

“Did he hurt you? Has he ever hit you?”

She stared at Yoongi, unable to utter a word.

“On a scale from one to ten?” he asked again.

“Nine.”

“Let’s take a break then.”

Yoongi smiled. He prepared a cup of tea and handed it to the girl.

“Let’s change subject for now.”

“Was there a moment when you think your memories started intensifying?”

“Around the time I went to the literary convention… I think.”

“Were there many things that reminded you of your past?”

“… yes.”

“And how did you react?”

“I got scared sometimes, or I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Then there’s this..” she reluctantly uncovered her wrist, only to slide her sleeve down soon after.

“Would the memories sometimes become so vivid that you saw or felt things happening?”

Her voice was caught in her throat, so she resorted to nodding.

“And how would you get out of that sort of situation?”

“Jimin helped me a lot, and also…”

She wrote on the paper. For some reason, it made her uncomfortable to say it out loud. It would often be Jungkook to help her out of those situations.

Yoongi stopped himself from smiling too much. Yin and Jungkook were really helping one another more than he could ever hope.

“Is there something that makes it worse for you when you’re scared?”

“t-touch.”

“okay.”

It was a relief for her to see Yoongi just taking notes and not commenting positively or negatively on any of her answers.

“People touching you in any way makes you uncomfortable, especially when you’re remembering stuff from your past. Have I understood that correctly?”

“Yes..”

“Is it always like this? Or is there somebody you’re more likely to trust?”

She thought about it. “There’s someone… It’s not always so, but sometimes, his touch helps me.”

"Why?”

“It’s… different from… what I remember.”

“How was your father’s touch?”

“…harsh?”

“And this one’s not?”

She shook her head. “It’s delicate.”

Yoongi smiled.

“I think we’re all set for today. Thank you for collaborating and answering all my questions. I really appreciate it.”

“T-thank y-you…”

Stunned, the girl got up and closed the door before her.

----------------------------------------

When Jungkook saw her, he nervously jumped up, waiting for a response from the girl. She wasn’t saying anything though, so he talked instead.

“How was it?”

She looked confused and exhausted.

“I-it could have been worse.” She murmured, and then she shut off.

Jungkook wanted to ask more about it, but his mind urged him to just stop questioning the poor girl. She looked shaken enough; it was no use trying to get her to say anything more.

He softly smiled.

“Let’s go home then.”

Home, he thought to himself as they waited for a taxi to arrive. He missed home. He had an apartment, but somehow, that didn’t feel like “home.” He had been living there for two years, but he was a stranger to those four walls that had nothing to do with him. He liked it, but it just wasn’t the place he belonged to.

And where was his home then?

He was still deep in thought when the taxi arrived.

They got in. The girl looked out of the window, tired, her expression unreadable. Jungkook wished he could know more about what had happened inside that room. He longed to know why she was suffering so much.

He wasn’t sure why, but she looked as if she were trying to avoid his gaze, shy all of a sudden, or embarrassed.

Out of nowhere, without either of them realizing, their hands touched. They kept silent, each looking in the opposite direction, cheeks bright pink and heart fluttering at every bump, which made their hands come closer, until they were overlapped.

The car abruptly stopped at the university’s gate.

“So…” Jungkook murmured as he looked at the sky, red as the sun shone through the skyscrapers.

“Um… thank you for accompanying me… I was really anxious, but you were right. Yoongissi did everything he could to make me comfortable.”

Jungkook’s face brightened, and his lips curved in a delighted smile. “I-I’m glad to hear that.”

“Then… see you tomorrow…”

“Yes, see you in class.”

The two reluctantly parted ways, hastily making their way towards their respective buildings.

Jungkook, taken by a sudden haste, rushed into his apartment. Or so he thought. When he slammed the door behind himself, he was faced with Jimin’s apartment instead.

“Not again,” he murmured, letting himself slide down the door until he was sitting on the floor, staring at the familiar home, unusually empty.

It was becoming a habit of his, walking into Jimin’s apartment rather than into his own. To tell the truth, he had always done that, with the difference that now Jimin wasn’t there, and he couldn’t vent his frustrations on anything if not on the walls.

He tiredly patted his chest, sliding down the floor even more. “Come on, heart. Why must you punch my ribs so violently? I don’t understand what you want to tell me…”

Why was he so breathless and confused all of a sudden? Why so restless?

Unable to sit still, he walked around the apartment, analysing every object as if it were the first time he saw it.

After counting the pots one by one and naming every person in the photos hung on the wall, after having inspected every nook and cranny, frustrated, he opened the door to the balcony and sat out, looking at the stars that were slowly appearing in the dimly lit sky.

He let out a heavy sigh, putting a hand over his chest once again.

There was nothing he could do: his heart was still stubbornly writhing in his cramped and limited space, turning his insides into a jumbled mess.

The screen of his phone lit up his face in the dimness that had fallen all around him. He plucked his earphones in, and tapped on a random playlist, hoping fortune would choose the song in its place.

“Be still my heart, Jacqui Treco”

Drawn by the title, he played it.

Maybe a bit of music would calm him down. He closed his eyes, and listened, trying to ignore the tumult that was still exploding in his chest.

The soft sounds of a guitar, calming and yet as restless as his heart, danced around him.

“Like a wakening volcano

I feel it start to rumble

Be still, my heart

Stay locked up Right where I put you

Yeah, it’s for your own good

Be still, my heart

‘Cause if you stay still

You won’t get burned

And if you stand still

You won’t get hurt

But if you stand still

You’ll never know

Why you burn at all”

His same impatience, his same fear, and yet all the excitement and tingling of that new feeling, that unfamiliar warmth he didn’t dare to give a name to.

“Like a wakening volcano

The blow inevitable

Please go back, my heart

Don’t want a catastrophe

Been burned by too many things

Please go back, my heart

‘Cause if you stay where you are

You’ll never get burned

And if you stay where you are

You’ll never get hurt

But if you stay where you are

You’ll never know

Why you burn at all

Like a wakening volcano

We’re ripped up and beginning to show

No turning back my heart

Love, desire but never spoken

Love that could fill the ocean

No turning back my heart

No turning back my heart”

Chapter Text

External POV

“No turning back…” Jungkook mouthed, opening his eyes to the first tremulous stars.

He didn’t dare to name what his heart wanted, but he had now opened his heart back to desire. And as soon as he had done so, he had been flooded by unknown feelings and terror.

An unstoppable flood, a process that could not be reversed anymore. If he had wanted to stop, he should have done so long ago. But what did he know then? How could he have known he would have been dragged into such matters?

He shivered. Spring was at its height, but when evening spread its grey mantle over the city, a nostalgic reminiscence of winter descended on earth, and the wind sung of it as if it were talking of a lover long-lost in ancient times. From remote places over the edge of the world came its voice, and it ran down the streets in gusts of icy breeze, lamenting its end and caressing a clueless child’s face in hope to, at least for a mere instant, be remembered by the most innocent of creatures.

Jungkook walked back inside and laid down on the sofa. A new dread had overcome him. Now inside, he thought of winter, and of how strong it had been, and of how powerless and frail his existence was now. Life was cruel, and it always had to take from one to give to another. A bleak tax collector, who would come and take what it will. And life always took too much from the world.

When Jungkook extended his hand to search for the remote, he remembered this wasn’t his apartment. Despite the familiar surroundings, he felt uncomfortable. He had grown weary of that solitude. All the things that belonged to Jimin were left unused, had lost the echo of Jimin’s laugh, the touch of his skilled fingers, the smile of his eyes.

Jungkook quickly made his way into his own apartment, and planted his feet in front of his bookshelf, determined to make use of the spare time he had left.

After spending a good ten minutes scanning the familiar shelves trying to decide what book to read, he sighed in defeat, and sat back on his sofa, helplessly staring at the ever-growing pile of books he had bought and never found the courage to read.

Despite being a book lover, starting something new and completely unknown was definitely not an experience he would describe as pleasant. He hated the initial feeling of being a stranger, an intruder in someone else’s story. And what if the book turned out to be utterly disappointing? What would he do with it? Would he throw it away? Would he keep it there, on his shelf, next to his most beloved stories, reminding him how much of a disappointment it was? No, he couldn’t risk that.

It had been fine with the books he had been forced to read in school. He had no choice to make; he had to read them, and it was that way that he had discovered many hidden masterpieces. But when he had begun teaching, his progress had halted.

It proved to be extremely hard for him to start books on his own, without being forced. That was also why, although he fiercely recommended some books to Jimin, he never got angry when he didn’t read them.

It was so challenging for Jungkook that every time he had one of those books in his hands, he would get chills, and his heart would race uncontrollably, until he would put the book back on the pile, untouched.

He sighed. Not even in books could he find a shelter from his toxic approach to life.

Lying down on the sofa, drawing imaginary lines on the bare ceiling, as the white moon climbed the sky outside, he wondered if there had ever been a place or thing he had belonged to. He was an exile, who still hadn’t found his way home. Was there even a home for him? Could he really find a place to go back to?

Sometimes he wondered if he even loved literature after all. Yes, he was in love with his job, and he was always amazed by the depth the human heart could reach, and he especially liked the language and freedom of certain authors in writing. But sometimes it all got too overwhelming, and he just wished he could turn his brain off. Sometimes, he would feel nothing while reading the same exact words that might have caused him to cry just a day before. And when this happened, all the strength of his previous experience wavered, and it lost its value.

He had been teaching literature for the past two years, and books were an enormous part of his life. Still, he felt a traitor, a liar, and sometimes thought that what he taught to his students was something he didn’t really believe in.

Had he chosen the wrong path? Had he the right to do what he was doing when there were people way more passionate than him out there?

Whatever he did, he wavered. Whatever he loved, he felt like he didn’t love it as much as it deserved. Things would hit him with immense force and then quickly fade into numbness, leaving him like a fool, wondering if he had imagined everything, if he just was dramatic, an actor in a play in which he shouldn’t have played any part at all.

Jungkook’s beloved self-doubt hadn’t taken long to come and whisper into his ear, just as it did every day. And here he was, lying idly, listening, and nodding to everything that wicked enemy sung to him.

The clock hung on the wall, with its inexorable ticking, reminded him he was meeting Taehyung in less than an hour.

He was unreasonably doubtful about his relationship with Taehyung, and his current state only amplified his dread.

Why had Taehyung called him in the first place? Did Taehyung really want to see him? He was being a burden once again, wasn’t he? First Jimin, then Namjoon and Yoongi, and now him. How many people was he going to dump his troubles on? It wasn’t right, it could not be right.

Maybe Taehyung called because he needed help with something, and instead Jungkook had to make everything about himself once again. At this point, he wasn’t even sure what being friends meant. If it meant supporting each other, people had surely been friends with him, but he had done nothing.

Should he call Taehyung and cancel their meeting? He didn’t want to be a burden once again. Should he just stop now and cut ties with him before dragging him into his hell?

If by doing so Jungkook could have a guarantee that his friends would be finally happy and live out their dreams, Jungkook would have left. But he knew that wouldn’t work. From the look on Taehyung’s face, it looked as if the arms of anguish were long, and they had followed him to the other side of the earth. Had Jungkook laid a curse on his friends?

Or maybe it didn’t all revolve around Jungkook, and he was just going crazy. Egocentric as always, he thought. Had he ever cared about others? Was he just a kid bawling his eyes out for a tiny scratch when adults around him suffered much deeper wounds in silence?

Everyone suffered, and yet he always had to make a scene. Why was it so? Did he think he deserved more pity than others?

-----------------------------------------------

The night had unexpectedly grown cold. Wrapped in clothes much warmer than what he had expected to wear, Taehyung casually leaned on the wall, waiting, staring as the moon slowly climbed the shadowy sky amidst the faint exhales of the earth.

Jungkook emerged from the twilight. He stopped just under the large gate, silently waving at his friend.

Was that a glimpse of grief Taehyung saw in Jungkook’s dark eyes? Whatever its cause could be, he couldn’t guess it. Something was utterly wrong with Jungkook, he had been immediately able to tell during the phone call that afternoon. But those penetrating gloomy eyes urged him not to ask. At least, not now.

They walked in silence in the dim shadows of night. An impenetrable mist floated over the murky waters. The soft gleam of the moon shone over it, coating the river in a dense, white blanket.

Following a grassy path, they reached a high spot. They sat down, gazing at the distant lights of the city reflected into the river, and at the glimmering crests flowing beneath their feet.

Taehyung stared intently, still drawn by the captivating lullaby of the waters. The sturdy and ancient trees, whose roots dug deep into the earthy banks, seemed to have fallen under the same spell, and their heavy boughs extended and curved towards the murmuring blackness.

A seagull passed over their heads, chanting a low lament. It was singing of the far sea, of its foaming waves, of its silver colour at night, of the moon, which was mirrored in it, and bathed and swam, as a queen in a lake which belonged to her kingdom.

Turning towards Jungkook, Taehyung saw reflected in his eyes his same, deep longing. He had heard it too, the call to the sea.

The older boy couldn’t withstand the image of his own desire, and he diverted his eyes back to the running waters, which flew free and unhindered in their course towards the blue deeps.

A light drizzle began descending softly, like a silver waterfall. It was as if those soft drops were the tears of a maiden, who for centuries had walked through forgotten forests, in search of the fragments of her crippled heart, lamenting the loss of her lover.

The boys sought no shelter: for they were bewitched by the mournful whispering of the river.

“Home is behind

The world ahead

And there are many paths to tread”

Jungkook sang in a whisper. He was barely audible at first, and yet, he softly sang on, the words slipping off his lips in a mournful tune.

“…Through shadows

To the edge of night

Until the stars are all alight

Mist and shadow

Cloud and shade

All shall fade

All shall fade…”

His last whisper died into the thick mist.

“Do you believe it?” Taehyung suddenly asked.

“Believe what?”

“The words you just sang. Do you think the sorrow will disappear one day? Will there truly be a good ending to our story?”

Jungkook sighed. “I do not know. Do you believe it, hyung?”

Silence fell between the two.

“The first time I met you…” Taehyung started, “I came here, you passed me by on the bridge.”

“Whenever I’m close to these waters… my heart longs for the sea. Even now, don’t you hear it calling?”

“I do…” Jungkook murmured, resignation in his voice.

“That time… it was the first time I heard it so strongly. If you hadn’t walked by on that day, I would have…” Taehyung took a shaky breath

Jungkook’s eyes flashed up.

Taehyung lowered his eyes in shame, his fingers restlessly playing with the hem of his jacket.

“I really wish there could be an end to all this, and for the good. I… would like all of us to get back together. But whenever I come here… somehow… I can’t hear anything but the sea. I want to go back, Jungkook. Somehow I... always end up thinking there’s only one way.”

With his eyes glued to the water, he rose to his feet. Before Taehyung could take a step, though, Jungkook fiercely grasped his arm. His eyes had turned into bitter, grey ice. Taehyung’s will wavered under those daggers that were piercing his soul.

“Don’t you think I’ve tried that before?”

Unsettled and lost, Taehyung stood staring. Then, as the witchery of the river came undone, he sat back down, head low between his knees.

“I- I’m sorry. I don’t know what has gotten into me.”

Only then did Jungkook lessen his painful grip on Taehyung’s arm.

“It’s the river.” He sharply muttered, glaring at the cunning mist.

When Taehyung lifted his eyes from the ground, it seemed to him Jungkook had transformed. He suddenly looked exhausted, bent with a heavy sorrow, ancient and yet ever present.

“Its songs are alluring and malicious. It doesn’t give back what it promises. The cold waters of the river can’t bring us back to our past, Taehyung. We’re not those kids anymore.”

Jungkook slowly laid down, weary, drained by the continuous fight between his will and the tempting call. He made sure Taehyung would lie down too.

Jungkook closed his cold eyes, letting the soft rain fall over his face.

“I do believe there might be an ending thought out for us. A good ending, I mean, although we might not foresee it, and although it might differ from what we would imagine.”

Tears welled up in his eyes, and his voice quivered. He could feel the coldness of the moist ground surround and imprison him in an icy clutch.

“But… the night is pitch-black right now, it’s so cold. And it’s… hard.”

The coldness in Jungkook’s voice, was replaced by deep commotion and sorrow, as he let out shaky sobs of desperation.

Taehyung squeezed his eyes shut, and tapped the ground in search of Jungkook’s hand, and clutched it tightly when he finally found it.

They spoke no more until they walked back to the university. They stared into each other’s eyes. Despite no words had been exchanged, and they still had found no solution to their grief, they understood each other. And when each of them laid down on their respective beds, deep in thought, they found they were greatly comforted in their troubles. And they slept, heavily, as they hadn’t done in years, and their hearts, though swollen with grief and unshed tears, were able to rest until the slanted rays of the sun tinged the sky once again.

-------------------------------------------

Jimin suddenly woke up to the door of his room slammed open, which left his head pounding way worse than it had done the day before.

“Good morning Mr. Park, I’ve brought you breakfast.” A nurse loudly chirped.

“Mr. Namjoon asked you to come to his office later on when you’re done with eating. If you need any help to get there you can call us, we’ll be right here to help you.”

Jimin nodded, too dazed to articulate any sentence.

The nurse vanished as quickly as she had appeared.

The boy slowly got into a sitting position and helplessly stared at the food in front of him. It wasn’t anything especially unappealing, it might have even looked inviting in other circumstances. But he had woken up so light-headed and nauseated that he didn’t even dare touching the food.

He forced himself to gulp down a couple of spoonfuls of whatever it was that he had in front of him, before giving up completely. One more spoonful, and he was sure he was going to throw up.

After putting the tray aside and cursing its painful clattering against the bedside table, he slowly placed his feet on the ground, letting his body adjust to the new position. Why was he so weak? Shouldn’t he have begun to feel better by now?

It took a couple of tries and adjustments, but Jimin eventually got to his feet. He was still quite unstable. But he could walk.

Using the IV pole as support, Jimin sluggishly walked down the corridor. But it was only after trudging to the end of the long corridor that he realised he did not know where Namjoon’s office was. He stopped the first nurse he could find and asked for it, only to discover he had been walking in the opposite direction.

Ah, great.

When he finally reached the office, he was drenched and barely able to stand on his feet. At the sluggish knocks, Namjoon opened the door and quickly provided a chair for Jimin to sit in.

“Why didn’t you call for a nurse to bring you here? You could have used a wheelchair and spared yourself much of the struggle...”

“Bullshit. I can walk on my own.” Jimin panted, sitting down with a thump.

“Well… anyway… I wanted to discuss something with you. Now, your results have come back, and there’s apparently no liver damage.”

Jimin was still a bit out of it but nodded.

“Although I originally thought of issuing a discharge for you tomorrow, given the information I now have, I think it would be better if… you stayed here another week.”

“Another one?” Jimin sighed.

“And what about Jungkook and Yin? I can’t leave them alone for another week!”

“You can’t be alone for a week. You still aren’t over the withdrawal period, as I’m sure you’ve noticed. Although you lie to us and tell us everything’s fine when you’re in visible discomfort, which is something I really wish you would stop doing, you are still experiencing strong symptoms, which could be life threatening if left unchecked. That is why you should stay here. If I were to let you go home, you would no doubt exhaust yourself by trying to help Jungkook and the girl. And who knows what painkillers you might try this time to keep the symptoms at bay?”

“But that’s- I’m not an addict, I wouldn’t take anything, the symptoms are manageable…”

Namjoon arched an eyebrow.

“Jimin, try to be reasonable. Don’t you know these things already?”

Jimin bit his lip.

“But really, I’m fine…”

“Have you eaten breakfast?”

Jimin lowered his eyes.

“Kind of…?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve had… a couple of spoonfuls.”

“And why did you stop?”

“… nausea.” Jimin rolled his eyes.

Namjoon sighed.

“Jimin, listen here. I know you’re tired of staying here and you want to help, but you need to help yourself first. Okay, maybe you can deal with feeling nauseated. But if you don’t eat, where are you going to get energy from? If you go home now, the problem is just going to represent itself. And you depend on those meds, whether you admit it or not. That’s why you’re experiencing symptoms even now.”

Jimin stood silent, coldly staring at the ground.

“I can’t force you to stay here against your will, but please, let me explain to you what I have in mind first. Then you can decide what to do. Will you listen to me?”

“Alright…”

Namjoon smiled. “Good. So, this is my plan. I didn’t put you on any medication until now because I wasn’t sure what damage your liver could have suffered. That’s also why you experienced such strong withdrawal symptoms as the intense migraine and the fever. We could continue this way, so we could go ‘cold turkey,’ keeping you completely off the substance until your body gets used to its absence. It is a harsh way, however, much harder on the body and the mind because the symptoms are stronger. What I was thinking was instead of tapering. You know what that means, right?”

Jimin nodded.

“Good. By keeping you here and monitoring your state, we could keep you on a lower dose of methadone to substitute for butalbital, which you were taking before. It’s a medical supervised detox, which will reduce the severity of the symptoms and also brings a higher chance of recovery and staying off the substance successfully in the future.”

“What I mean is…” Namjoon continued. “If we proceed by tapering, you’ll be better faster and will recover in a safer and more long-term way. Even if you chose to cold turkey, I wouldn’t recommend you face it alone at home. Also, the psychological effects of butalbital withdrawal such as irritability, mood swings and depression might last even in the next few weeks, so the more you’re in a controlled and secure environment, the better.”

Jimin chuckled. “Secure environment? You think I’m gonna jump off a bridge?”

“It’s just a precaution. You already know all of this since we did it with Jungkook. The choice is yours, Jimin.”

Jimin thought about it for a second. He’d rather be out of here as soon as possible and handle it himself, but he recognized that what Namjoon offered him made sense, for his own good and for everyone’s sake. If he wanted to stop being a burden, he first had to stabilize himself.

If he were to go home now… Would it really be of any use? Would he be able to stay off painkillers?

Although he wished he could say yes, he wasn’t so sure now. Staying in bed all these days, he had had the time to think back on his behaviour in the last months. He had been extremely irresponsible with his medicine intake, even taking coffee, and sometimes a beer close to the pills, although he was well aware of its dangers.

He surely realized what he had done was wrong, but there was no way he could guarantee that he wouldn’t do the same as soon as he got home just to help Jungkook. He wasn’t that sure he could do it on his own anymore.

He stared at the paper in front of him.

“Fine.”

Jimin sighed as he hastily signed the paper.

“Take it back before I can change my mind” He murmured, handing the paper to Namjoon.

Namjoon smiled. “Thank you for listening. I’m glad you accepted. We’ll start the treatment this afternoon, okay?”

Jimin rubbed his eyes tiredly. His head was pounding mercilessly, and he wondered if he had even understood all that Namjoon had told him.

“Jimin?”

“Yeah?”

Namjoon stared at him in suspicion, as if he were guessing Jimin’s state by only looking at him.

The portable radio Namjoon held in his pocket started croaking out loud words, Jimin hissing at the sound.

“Code blue, code blue in the ER, CPR needed, Medical assistance required.” Namjoon waited for a second, before jumping out of his seat.

“Where is the code blue department when needed? Damn it! I have to go, see you later Jimin!” he rushed out of the door before Jimin could say anything.

The boy looked around. He was exhausted, and just wanted to go back to his room and lay down. With a struggle, he got to his feet. He was about to exit the room when he remembered Taehyung’s bracelet. Maybe it was there, in a drawer in the office. He shook his head. Rummaging through someone’s belongings wasn’t right.

But what if it really was there? He hadn’t imagined it, had he?

Eaten alive by the doubt, Jimin began inspecting the drawers.

Paper, paper, paper, nothing interesting. As he opened the second drawer, though, he noticed a small diary hidden under layers of neatly folded papers. He took it out, and ignoring his conscience, he briefly flipped through it. It was filled with scribbles and erased words. Amidst that chaos, though, there was a page which only contained what looked like the lyrics of a song. It seemed to Jimin to be looking back upon Namjoon’s old diary, when he would read his friends what he had written; when he told them all he wanted to become a songwriter and a rapper.

“With the cold air of the dawn

I secretly open my eyes

This city’s harmony, it’s so familiar to me

The days of my youth seem so far away

And now it’s full of buildings and cars

But this is my home now, (Seoul, Seoul)

Why do you sound like ‘soul’?

What kind of soul is it that you have?

What holds me back by your side like this?

I don’t even have anything to reminisce about you

I’m so sick of you now

That same old ashy face of yours every day

No, no, I’m afraid of myself

‘Cause I’ve already become a part of you

If love and hate are the same words

I love you, Seoul

If love and hate are the same words

I hate you, Seoul.”

Jimin read and read those lyrics again, amazed. Namjoon’s words used to be much more aggressive back then, but he was sure this song was Namjoon’s work. The lyrics were beautifully written, containing his characteristic play words and captivating images. They had evolved, and now they were even better, more complete.

So, he hadn’t given up on his song writing after all.

He had grown up, and with him, his lyrics, which were melancholic, but revealed a deep truth. The way he had described the city, the continuous back and forth between love and hate, there wasn’t a word Jimin couldn’t relate to.

Jimin reluctantly put the notebook back to where he had accidentally found it. He wished Namjoon could one day fulfil his dream and publish his songs. Such lyrics really deserved to be shared rather than to be kept in a dusty drawer.

He was going through the other drawers, Namjoon’s lyrics still echoing in his mind when he noticed something.

He took it out, mind blank. He inspected it, compared it to his bracelet, stared at it for an interminable time. There was no doubt: that was Taehyung’s bracelet.

As if in a trance, he got to his feet, confused, upset, tightly gripping the bracelet. He scrambled out of the room, heart painfully pounding in his chest.

“Mr. Park?”

Hye Jeong stopped by the boy.

“Everything alright? Mr. Namjoon told me you might need help with going back to your room… a-are you okay?”

Jimin didn’t answer, the sudden stop in his motion making him feel dizzier than he had been all morning. He leaned on the nearby wall, his head burning and throbbing. It had been feeling like hell for most of the talk with Namjoon, but it had suddenly worsened when he had started walking around.

“Mr. Park, please sit in the wheelchair, I will accompany back to your room so we can monitor you and help you feel better”

She placed a hand on his shoulder.

“W-what?” he gasped in confusion.

“Sit down here,” she repeated, helping him down.

“You must have a really high fever. Let me bring you back to your room, okay?”

Jimin was indeed burning up and would have felt exhausted even if he hadn’t found the bracelet. He helplessly stared into space as Hye Jeong pushed him down the corridor.

So, he had been there. Taehyung had visited him.

His grip tightened around the silver jewel. People passed him by, conversations swirled around him as ribbons he couldn’t catch the beginning or end of.

Maybe it was because of the high fever, but he was completely dazed, unable to grasp any concept except the fact that Taehyung had bothered to visit him and cowardly give him back the bracelet, but he hadn’t come back to face him when he had woken up. He was extremely frustrated and angry, although his physical state didn’t allow him to express it.

They had lied. They had all lied to him, kept this bracelet from him. Why had Namjoon done that? And Taehyung? What the hell was he doing in Seoul? He had left, why come back? Why come back and haunt him once again? Why give this bracelet back to him? If he didn’t want it, he could have thrown it into the sea. It would have been better. Yes, it would have been definitely better if Taehyung had thrown their whole friendship straight into the sea and left for good. But he had to come back, hadn’t he? And to do what? To come bug him once again? To give him this stupid piece of metal and disappear again?

Was he playing with him? He couldn’t stand it; he couldn’t understand the logic behind all of this, and it made him furious.

He plopped down on the bed, exhausted, black spots blurring his vision. Hye Jeong quickly left to reappear minutes later with Namjoon. During that brief period, with the last ounce of consciousness left in him, he hid the bracelet before it could be taken away from him a second time.

“Jimin, how are you feeling? Can you hear me?”

Namjoon called.

It took an extreme amount of self-control for Jimin not to scream at Namjoon that he was a traitor. He instead nodded; words caught up in his throat.

“Are you dizzy? Nauseated?”

Jimin nodded, tears of frustration welling up in his eyes.

As he was hooked to various monitors and IVs, he stared at the blue sky outside, and at the sun, which seemed to laugh and taunt him with its merry rays, when, inside that room, there was nothing but cold, heavy despair.

His heart wept with resignation and melancholy, for although he didn’t like the situation he was in, he had no power, no, rather no intention of doing anything to change it.

He closed his eyes, trying not to see the sun outside, and hoping to be left alone. When he opened his eyes back to a much hazier world, Namjoon’s words were all muffled and incomprehensible.

“H-hyung... I don’t... can’t... understand you...” he mumbled.

Namjoon held his hand, trying to reassure him and calm him down.

It took some time for the medicine to finally kick in, and for Jimin’s dizziness to decrease.

“How are you feeling now?”

The fumes of anger had slowly dissipated, and he now just felt utterly disheartened.

“I’m not as dizzy...” he softly whispered; eyes closed.

“Your fever is still quite high. Be patient, we’ll take care of you.” Namjoon murmured, placing a cold cloth over his burning forehead.

After wearily battling against the fever, Jimin abandoned himself to sleep.

Chapter Text

External POV

Saturday. Jungkook had spent the entire week waiting for that day. He threw on the first clothes he found, determined to be at Namjoon’s hospital as early as possible.

Before closing his apartment door though, he saw the pile of essays scattered on the table.

“Ah... I forgot...” He dragged himself back into the room, huffing as he helplessly stared at the pile of unmarked works.

He had to stop assigning so much homework. In the end, it always backfired on him.

“I’d better start....”

He wasn’t focused at all, nervous and restless at the thought of meeting Jimin. All the possibilities kept running through his head. The last time they had seen each other they had been screaming at each other, after all. Would Jimin be angry? Yes, he would definitely be. And what could he do? He had to apologize, immediately. No, but what if Jimin didn’t even want to listen to him? What if he told him to get out again, glaring at him? What would he do then? Kneel and beg? And what if that wasn’t enough? Whatever happened, he had to be honest and ask for forgiveness.

He sighed when he marked the last paper. He hadn’t done perfect work and was sure to have missed some mistakes. The students surely wouldn’t complain, though.

He left the room and called for a taxi.

As he stared out of the window, he wondered how he had survived the week. He had avoided seeing Jimin for the time being, as Yoongi had advised him to, but it had proved much harder than he had imagined.

In the past years, he had been living literally glued to his friend, so much so that it was extremely upsetting and uncomfortable spending five days without seeing him. Having so much time to himself forced Jungkook to realize how much Jimin really did for him.

When Namjoon called him to tell him Jimin would stay another week in the hospital, he was relieved. Although he wished to see him and was tired of that situation, he was glad. They would force him to rest, and the doctors and nurses would take care of him. If he had come home so early, Jungkook was sure the problem would have represented itself.

Despite his best efforts, Jungkook could only arrive by lunchtime. He quietly entered the room, where he found Jimin, deeply asleep. Namjoon was sitting by his side, writing something in a small black notebook.

When he noticed Jungkook, he hastily hid the notebook in his pocket.

“He’s been fast asleep for the past hour.” Namjoon whispered as he got up, so that Jungkook could sit next to Jimin.

The boy intently gazed at his friend; concern written all over his face. To his surprise, Jimin was still as pale as ever: he looked frail and exhausted, as if he hadn’t eaten or slept in days.

“Jimin hasn’t been doing great,” Namjoon quietly said, guessing Jungkook’s worries.

“But it was expected. The withdrawal symptoms were rather strong, and despite the medications he’s on now, he still experienced some nausea, high fever and a good deal of mild migraines. He’s getting better, but he’s still quite weak.”

Jungkook gently took Jimin’s hand in his, biting his lip in regret.

His phone suddenly buzzed. He sighed, looking at the screen, reluctantly letting go of Jimin’s hand.

“I have lunch with Yin in less than an hour. I will be back in the afternoon, though.”

“No problem.”

“Kook,”

Namjoon called before Jungkook could exit the room.

“Jimin… he’s been hallucinating quite a lot when he had high fevers… He kept mumbling nonsense and asking to see you and beg your forgiveness. I’ve never seen Jimin feeling so miserable and desperate. Please do something about it, sort it out with him.”

“I will.” Jungkook hastily replied, feeling a lump already forming in his throat, as he disappeared from Namjoon’s sight.

He was expecting anger, but this? He would never have imagined Jimin would ask for forgiveness when it was all Jungkook’s fault. This new twist made him waver. He did not know what he would say now, when he would be face to face with Jimin in the afternoon.

------------------------------

Jimin was sitting against a tree trunk in the garden, enjoying the warm sun filtering through the leaves. It felt like ages since he had last savoured the breeze on his face.

“Oppa, here, I brought the flowers!” the little girl exclaimed, dumping dozens of daisies in Jimin’s lap.

He patted her head. “Thank you, Jiyeong, we have enough to make many necklaces now.”

“I want to make them too!” Jihyun exclaimed.

“But- and what about the house you were building with those sticks?”

“It’s too hard! And I want to make a necklace for mom!”

Jimin smiled softly.

“Okay then. Come here. Look closely. You have to take the stem off, then you pinch here and… where is the string I had brought?” Jimin looked around, searching everywhere on the blanket he was sitting on. Then he heard giggles.

“Jiyeong?” he said, immediately catching her mischievous smile. “Did you take it?”

“Guess!” she put both her fists forward, closed.

“Let’s see…” he murmured playfully.

When he chose the right fist though, she opened both her hands, and they were empty.

“Hyung! It’s here!” Jihyun giggled, taking out the string from his pocket.

“You two, you little rascals, come here!” Jimin giggled, reaching out to catch them. They both squealed and laughed as Jimin kept them on his lap and ruffled their hair.

For an instant, Jimin casually lifted his gaze, and caught a glimpse of someone sitting on the white stairs of the hospital. Squinting, he realized it was Jungkook, watching with a soft smile on his lips. When he was caught, though, the smile faded, and he lowered his eyes.

“Oppa? What’s wrong?”

“What? Um, n-nothing, just…” Jimin stood gazing at the boy, silent.

“Hyung, who’s that person?”

Jimin shook himself from the initial surprise.

“Jihyun, Jiyeong, that is Jungkook, my dearest friend.”

“Is he a good hyung? Why doesn’t he come here if he knows you?” the little boy asked, tugging his sleeve.

“Yes, he’s the best hyung in the world.” Jimin smiled. “He’s just a little shy.”

Then Jimin’s eyes lit up with a playful light.

“Kids, can you do something for me? Go to Jungkook and hug him really really tight, then bring him here. But wait!”

Maybe calling Jungkook hyung wasn’t a great Idea, Jimin thought. What if that reminded him of Junghyun? He couldn’t risk that.

“When you see him, call him Kookie.”

“Kookie?”

“Yes, isn’t it a cute name?”

The kids giggled, and set off towards the boy, who was still sitting with his head bowed and didn’t realize what was happening.

He lifted his head up when Jihyun tugged at his sleeve. He was met with the curious faces of the kids.

“Hello Kookie!” Jiyeong smiled.

“Hi Kookie!” Jihyun echoed.

“K-kookie?” Jungkook replied, confused.

“Yes! It’s you, right? You have to come with us!” They grabbed his hands and started dragging him.

“A-ah w-wait-”

When he lifted his gaze, he noticed Jimin was laughing out loud, throwing his head back, delighted by the bright pink of Jungkook’s cheeks.

He should have imagined. Jimin perfectly knew how silly that name sounded when said by people he didn’t know.

Jungkook was led to the spot where Jimin was still giggling. “Hi Kookie…” Jimin smirked.

The younger boy sat down, confused about whether he should be angry or just surprised that Jimin was even smiling at him after what he had done.

“Come on kids, let’s resume what we were doing. Kook, wanna jump in?”

Before he could answer, Jimin placed the tail of the string in his hand.

“Hold this for me.”

“Now, kids, look at me. Make the string go through the hole and… Tada! The first one is in. Let’s continue, shall we?”

They restlessly worked on the flower necklaces for some time. Jungkook was invested in the activity just as much as the kids. It had already been more than half an hour when Hye Jeong reached them, calling for the kids.

“Mr. Park, do you need help to go back inside?”

“Thank you, Hye Jeong, but there’s Jungkook. I’m sure he can help me, don’t worry. I’ll stay a bit longer, though.”

“Okay then. Still, let me know if you need anything. The dosage will shortly decrease. As you know...”

“Yes, I know the drill by now. I’ll go back inside as soon as it starts.”

Jungkook listened intently, wondering what they were talking about.

“Kids, it’s time for you to go back inside, our afternoon snack is waiting.”

“No, I don’t want to! Kookie is so nice!” Jiyeong exclaimed hugging Jungkook, who awkwardly let the two kids climb on his lap.

Jimin giggled.

“Come on, kids. We can continue tomorrow.” He softly said as he helped the nurse to free Jungkook from the mortal grasp of the kids.

“We’ll come back here and make more necklaces. How about that?”

“Wait!” Jihyun, who was already holding Hye Jeong’s hand, ran back and put a tiny flower crown over Jimin’s and Jungkook’s head.

“These are for you!” he smiled.

“Thank you! It’s beautiful! Now, be a good boy and go back to mommy, okay?” Jimin patted the boy’s head.

“Yes! Bye bye!”

They silently watched the kids disappear behind the opaque doors.

“The kids like you,” Jimin murmured, holding the flower crown in his hands and examining it.

“H-how… are you?” Jungkook tentatively asked, nervously fiddling with his shirt.

Tension was thick in the air.

“I… I’m not gonna lie, I’ve not been too good. Although I’m on methadone, the symptoms are still quite intense, especially when they lower the dose. I’ve had… fevers and migraines, but… yeah.”

“That’s the reason why you have that?” Jungkook pointed at the wheelchair.

Jimin shrugged. “Namjoon forced me to. I insisted I could walk, but he didn’t want me to get tired, so…”

“I see.” The younger boy murmured.

“Um… wanna go for a walk?” Jimin asked.

“Oh, sure” Jungkook rushed to the wheelchair, and raised an eyebrow when he saw Jimin up on his feet, holding to the IV pole.

“You won’t sit?”

“I’d rather walk for a bit. When I get tired, I’ll tell you.”

Jungkook was worried, but he complied. He pushed on the empty wheelchair, as Jimin walked close to him, slowly, looking at the green leaves sprouting on every tree. He was tired of seeing the dull white walls of his room, and the colours appeared unbelievably intense.

“And how have you been, Kook?”

“Mostly good.”

“Mostly?” Jimin frowned.

“It’s- it’s… hard to be on my own so much, but… I have had no panic attacks; I’ve done everything I had to do. Just… I guess I didn’t realize how much you did for me even when it came to chores and all. I’ve had a fun time learning how to use the dishwasher. I removed foam from it for two days straight”

Jimin laughed “Oh my. What did you put in it? Dish soap?”

Jungkook pouted. “Yes!” He exploded in a sudden outburst of frustration. “It’s a dishwasher, who would have thought you didn’t have to put dish soap in it? It doesn’t make sense!”

“You didn’t have a clue… Well, at least now you know!”

They kept walking, mostly in silence, until Jimin suddenly came to a halt.

“Everything alright?”

Jungkook was immediately at his side. Jimin’s forehead was embedded with sweat.

“Yes… I’m just… I’ll sit for a moment.”

He looked flushed, and Jungkook didn’t spare a moment. He pulled the wheelchair close and made sure Jimin sat in it as soon as possible.

“I hate it. I feel so stupid sitting on this thing.” Jimin huffed.

“But it’s better than passing out, isn’t it?”

“I’d rather do that.” Jimin sulked.

“Then…” Jungkook looked around.

“Where are you taking me?”

“Here.” Jungkook said, stopping near a bench.

“You can sit here since you hate the wheelchair so much.”

Jimin smiled.

“Thanks.”

They both sat down in awkward silence, looking around, unsure of what to say.

“I- missed you, hyung.” Jungkook suddenly broke the ice.

“I missed you too…”

“And I have to apologize to you, hyung.”

Jimin bit his lip. “Jungkook... It’s not-”

“Just listen to me, hyung, please.”

Looking up, Jimin noticed the pleading expression of the boy.

“I… it was stupid of me to say those things to you in such a way… I-I mean, s-some of them are true, but I’ve been extremely ungrateful and impatient and…”

Jungkook passed a hand through his hair, sighing.

“What I mean is that I fucked up, hyung. Badly. I now realize I’m asking too much right now, and before I lived on my own at home, I just didn’t understand to what extent you were helping me. I’ve been horrible to you, so so many times, and still, you…”

He stopped, feeling a lump growing in his throat.

Jimin’s eyes shot to the boy. In his watering eyes, he saw an overbearing guilt.

“Kook...”

Jimin immediately took the boy’s hands in his, trying to muster up enough courage to talk.

“I never thought I would tell you these things, but our... fight made me realize I need to say this. I want to be completely honest with you, Jungkook. Taking care of you hasn’t been easy.”

He let out a shaky breath. “There were many things I had to... give up, and there are some that I still miss. But I do not regret a single moment of our lives. I helped you because I wanted to, not because I was forced. I chose to stay by your side, and I’m glad I did. I know I made some mistakes, with the migraines and all… and I know that what you and Yoongi told me is reasonable.”

Jungkook was staring at him like a lost puppy. This was the first honest conversation they had on the topic in many years.

“I understand. I know what you said to me is what would be the right thing to do. I know you’re getting better; I’m not saying I still consider you a person who needs to be taken care of 24/7. But after so many years… I’m having a hard time setting my priorities straight. I… Jungkook, I’m scared.”

“S-scared?”

Jimin’s eyes welled up with tears. He nodded.

“The purpose of my life has been you for as long as I can remember. And I… fear that if I start living for myself… I know what’s the right thing to do, but I d-don’t want to lose you Kook, I’m scared. You’re my family, my closest friend, my brother… I’m scared of what will happen if I let you go.”

“Jimin…” Jungkook whimpered, holding him in a tight embrace as his own eyes watered once again.

It was the first time Jimin had expressed all his fears to him. It caught Jungkook off guard. Never would he have imagined that was the reason why Jimin wasn’t willing to stop living that tiring life. How much time had he lived in fear? How many years of silence, how many years had he kept all this to himself, without saying a word to anyone?

“Hyung…”

“I didn’t know you were carrying this weight; I wish you had told me earlier.”

“But it doesn’t matter” Jungkook wiped his tears, breaking the embrace.

“If you need time, I will give you that. I won’t force you to change right now, that would be inhumane. If you need comfort, I’ll be glad to be there for you, whenever you need me. It’s high time I started doing my part, hyung.”

“But you don’t have to... and...”

“I’m not completely fine, I know. And I think I will never be totally okay. I might still get panic attacks or have nightmares, or worse, even in the future. But what can I do about it? That’s a risk I can take, if it means me and you get to finally live our lives. I will never be able to repay you, hyung. But I want to try, at least. I’m here for you, and whatever happens, I’ll never stop, as you never gave up with me.”

Jungkook smiled, wiping Jimin’s tears.

Jimin’s eyes darkened.

“I can’t promise you anything, Kook. I don’t know how to do what you all ask of me. I’ll try, but...”

“That’s enough for me. I know how hard it is to fight off fears and habits. It was stupid of me to ask you to fix things in a day. I’ll be beside you; we all are going to be there for you so that you can learn how to live also for yourself.”

“Thank you…”

A brisk breeze made Jimin shiver.

“Do you want to go back inside? It’s getting chilly.”

The older boy hesitantly looked around. He then sighed. “Let’s go back. I think my temperature is rising again.”

With no further complaints, Jimin heavily sat down in the wheelchair. That was what worried Jungkook the most. Just minutes ago, he had been so stubborn about being carried around.

“Should I call Namjoon hyung?”

The boy shook his head. “It’s fine. He’ll come visit me later, there’s no need to call. Besides, he can’t do much. I have to endure this until my body gets used to the lower dosage.”

“T-there’s really nothing we can do?”

Jimin shrugged. “Not really. But it’s not as bad as the past days, it’s fine.”

His voice betrayed him. He was absolutely out of it. Jungkook hastily continued to push the wheelchair until they got to Jimin’s room. He helped the boy to lie down, and as soon as he did so, Jimin fell asleep, exhausted.

Sitting next to the bed, Jungkook thought back to everything Jimin had told him, wondering in what way he could help his hyung to get his life back. Money? He had little, he couldn’t buy Jimin a café to own. Still, maybe he could start by lightening the weight that was put on Jimin’s shoulders in daily life. He could of course cook and clean for himself, he had somehow learned to survive on that. There was also the car problem. He didn’t have a driver’s license nor a car. Given his past addictions and problems, he had never even considered the possibility of driving. But now that he had been left alone for some time, he realized he actually needed a car, one of his own. He couldn’t forever accompany Yin in a taxi or take countless buses to get where he wanted. He had to have his own independence. When Jimin would come back home, Jungkook knew Jimin would accompany him whenever he needed to go. That had to stop. Jimin had to have his own car for himself, and use it for his needs, not for Jungkook’s.

“Taehyung…”

Jungkook shook from his thoughts when Jimin, deep in his sleep, called his friend’s name.

“Taehyung-ah, you…” the boy mumbled, shifting uncomfortably.

He wasn’t supposed to know about Taehyung. Yes, he had visited Jimin, but he was still asleep, wasn’t he? Then how could he know? Did Namjoon tell him?

Could he just be rambling about the past in his sleep? Yet, he had never done so before. Never had he talked about Taehyung after he had left, awake or asleep.

No, there had to be something else, a reason.

Jimin shifted again, as a tear rolled down one of his cheeks. Jungkook instinctively reached for Jimin’s hand to comfort him.

It was then that he noticed that the silver bracelet he had around his wrist had doubled. There was a second one.

Namjoon entered the room.

“Hyung?”

“Jimin has fallen asleep, hasn’t he? He’s feverish again.” Namjoon murmured, putting a hand over the boy’s forehead.

“Hyung, do you know anything about this?”

The doctor looked at Jimin’s arm, which Jungkook had lifted. “That…” Namjoon sighed.

“You know, then? What do you know? He’s been crying in his sleep, talking about T-”

“Taehyung-ah… why…” Jimin whimpered, tossing once again.

“See?” Jungkook worriedly whispered.

Namjoon unsurely glanced back at Jimin.

“Jungkook. Let’s talk… outside.”

-----------------------------------

“Why didn’t you tell me anything about all this?” Jungkook yelled.

“Jungkook, calm down. I don’t know why you’re making such a big deal about it. I guessed Taehyung had left the bracelet when he came here the first time, although you didn’t bother to tell me. Jimin was agitated and passed out, and I thought maybe if I hid the bracelet, he would think it was a dream… he wasn’t that conscious after all. But I guess he found a way to get it back…”

“H-he passed out? Did he get hurt? This is serious, and you didn’t think maybe I would have needed to know?”

“He wasn’t hurt, and then that thing slipped my mind, and I didn’t think it would be such important news for you… I didn’t want to put extra pressure on you… at the beginning, I thought… you might still not know that Taehyung had returned, if that was even true at all. What if you reacted like Jimin? I was just trying to protect you..”

“Protecting… it’s always like that.” Jungkook nervously paced the hallway. He was about to scream the most horrible things, but he stopped himself. He remembered Jimin’s eyes when he acted ungratefully. He remembered how much Namjoon had done and still was doing for them.

“I just…” He sat down on a chair nearby, hiding his face in his hands.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to…” Namjoon started, sitting next to the boy.

Jungkook took a deep sigh and sat up straight, facing Namjoon.

“No, no hyung, don’t be. I should be the one apologizing. I’m a bit on edge today… I shouldn’t have lashed out at you just now. I… hate it when people hide things from me because I feel powerless. But… I understand why you did it. I’m grateful, hyung.”

“I wouldn’t get so angry if I spoke my mind more often, right? That’s what Yoongi always tells me…”

Jungkook murmured

Namjoon smiled, patting Jungkook’s shoulder. “You’ve matured a lot, Jungkook. I’m proud of you. And… I should have been more honest with you too. Once I discovered Taehyung had already met you, I had no reason not to tell you.”

Jungkook shrugged.

“The thing is… what do we do now? We won’t be able to lie for long. Jimin knows that Taehyung’s here in Seoul. And he knows that at least you know something about it.”

“He still hasn’t asked any questions. How come? The time he passed out, he was very sure that Taehyung had come. Then, after I hid the bracelet, he never talked about it. I thought he had maybe finally forgotten about it, but I guess… he was just tricking me.”

“Jimin’s clever. His fever betrayed him, but… there’s much he’s been withholding. Even from me...” Jungkook sighed.

“He always looks so bubbly and cheerful… he never shows his pain until his body betrays him or until you force it out of him. He’s too good at pretending, too determined not to let others discover he’s human too.”

“What can we do, then? If we keep lying, Jimin’s just going to hate us more. He knows everything anyway.” Namjoon said.

“Right. Then… we tell him? And apologize?”

“Yeah,” The doctor got up. “Although I don’t know what difference it will make. Let’s go back inside. We should have this conversation as soon as possible. Does Yoongi know about it?”

Jungkook shook his head. “I thought Taehyung would meet him, but he didn’t. I didn’t want to go against his will, so I did nothing. There’s something that worries me about Taehyung.”

Namjoon stopped, his hand on the doorknob.

“So I wasn’t the only one having a strange feeling when I met him!”

“You did too?”

“Yes… As if… he was hiding something from us.”

“He’s very vague about what he used to do before coming back to Korea.” Jungkook murmured, walking back and forth, deep in thought.

“Let’s not talk about this with Jimin.”

“Jeonggukie… where are you?” Jimin’s voice came to their ears, weak and barely audible.

“I’m here hyung, coming!” They exchanged a knowing glance before entering.

Jimin was drenched in sweat, breathing heavily. He was holding his head in his hands, shivering.

“Is it your head?”

“W-what?” Jimin wearily asked.

“Does your head hurt, hyung?” Jungkook asked again, crouching in front of him.

The boy nodded, curling up.

“It’s best if we save the conversation for tomorrow. He’ll probably be this way all night.” Namjoon sat on a chair.

“Wh- conversation?” Jimin mumbled.

“Nothing hyung, just rest. I’m staying with you tonight, don’t worry about anything right now.”

“N-no Gguk, go home… I’ve been like this before.”

“I’ll stay by your side hyung, don’t try to dissuade me. It’s useless.”

Jimin wanted to reply, but he had no strength to. He let the boys take care of him until all went black around him, and he slipped into a dreamless sleep.

Chapter Text

External POV

Morning grew over the city, painting pale streaks of light over Jimin’s bed. It was getting warmer these days, and the sun kept shining, golden, heralding a warm summer all to be enjoyed and spent outside.

When one ray came knocking on Jungkook’s eyelids, he woke up. He massaged the stiff muscles in his neck, wishing he were still 18, when he could sleep on a chair and not experience the aftermath of it. Jungkook looked around: Namjoon was gone, probably already at work, since the hospital had no breaks. He wondered if he ever went home. He had an enormous apartment, far too spacious for Jungkook’s liking, but the view was stunning, and it was in a quite rich area of the city. It was a shame, Jungkook thought, that his friend saw his own home so sporadically.

Wasn’t it tiring? Staying at work for days on end, working nonstop until you fall asleep, exhausted. How could he live like that?

Although he didn’t want to remember, Jungkook still had their phone conversation fresh in mind. Maybe he was using work to avoid thinking.

“Jungkook?” Jimin’s soft and sleepy voice called him back to reality.

“What are you thinking about?”

Jungkook rested his chin on the mattress. “Don’t worry about it; it’s nothing important.”

It was important but given the heavy conversation that they were about to bring upon Jimin he shut up on this issue. There would be other occasions to talk. That was if Jimin didn’t end up killing them now.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better. Way better.” Jimin stretched and yawned. “But I’m starving.”

“We can fix that.” Jungkook picked up a tray that was on the table. “Seems like we slept in. Breakfast’s already here.”

“And what about you, Kook?”

“I’ll go grab something downstairs. I’ll be back in a minute. Start eating.”

When Jungkook returned with a cup of coffee and a brioche, Jimin had already devoured his breakfast. Jungkook noticed how his hyung was staring at his food.

“Are you still hungry? Want me to give you this?”

Jimin refused.

“I’m stuffed. I might explode if I eat something more.”

“Don’t you have work?” Jimin asked after some time.

“It’s Sunday, hyung.”

“Ah… right. Time’s so confusing in here. I’ve been sleeping for days.”

“I remember what it’s like…” Jungkook said, as he stretched his arms.

“And how is it going between you and Yin?”

Jungkook almost choked on his coffee. The last time he remembered, Jimin wasn’t exactly supportive of how things were developing between them. Why was he bringing it up then?

“You told me a lot of things about your dishwasher and your poor housing skills yesterday, but nothing about her.”

“Um… yeah. I guess I… forgot.”

“Or avoided the topic on purpose,” Jimin smiled.

“It’s confusing, okay?” Jungkook huffed, as Jimin couldn’t help but chuckle at his cute pouting.

“What’s so confusing? Has she been eating well?”

“Yes… She also had her first session with Yoongi, although I know little about what happened there. She looked a bit shook and quite exhausted, and she’s been weird the last few days.”

“What do you mean?”

“She looks scared and always looks behind her back. Also… those dizziness issues… they’re still there. It makes me worry. Shouldn’t her body be recovering by now?”

“They’re not gonna disappear on their own. With what she eats right now, she has just enough energy to get by. For the dizziness to disappear, she should start eating more. Something like a couple of snacks during the day would be fine. Or she could switch to a richer meal at lunch. But that’s not possible now, especially since you can’t cook much besides ramen”

“I also know how to do soups and chicken, and toasts too! Don’t insult my culinary skills!”

Jimin chuckled. “Alright, alright, I sincerely apologise for my inconsiderate words.” 

“But anyway, I think it would be best if she started having some snacks during the day. Fruit would be the best option. It’s healthy, it has fibre in it, and it will give her a little energy. When I come back, we should really try to introduce some proteins in her meals too, because as of now, she’s assuming close to none. They would bring back some of her strength, too.”

Jungkook nodded.

“Hyung”

“Yes?”

Jungkook opened his mouth, but no word came out. “No, nothing..”

“What do you mean by nothing? Come on, speak.”

Shy, he eyed Jimin. “I… no, it’s too hard..”

“Kook…” Jimin placed a hand over Jungkook’s leg, which was nervously jumping up and down.

“Hey, what’s the problem? You can tell me; you know I won’t judge.”

Jungkook fiddled with the hem of his shirt.

“I… I feel weird. I don’t know what’s up with me. Sometimes, when I’m with Yin… I do things I didn’t really know I could do… I feel like all my focus shifts on her, and I need to protect her and- I give her advice I didn’t even know I knew; I tell her things about myself I would never tell anyone…”

Jimin stood staring in awe for a second, processing the words in his mind.

“You mean to tell me… you act all tough and protecting? My shy Jungkookie?” Jimin asked in delighted disbelief.

Jungkook shrugged. “That’s not like me at all, right hyung? Why am I doing this? It’s just automatic. I don’t even know why...”

“What. Are you laughing now? You promised you wouldn’t Judge!” Jungkook pouted, as Jimin chuckled.

“I’m not laughing at you Kook, you’re just too cute and oblivious.”

“I still haven’t got my answers. Do you know what’s going on with me?”

“Why do you ask me? I’m not you. If you don’t know what you feel, how am I supposed to know?” Jimin shrugged.

“But like, is it normal to be like this? Am I going crazy?”

“Want a clue? It stars with the letter L. Lov-”

“I get it, I get it, stop! There’s no need to say it! A-and what do you know, anyway?”

Jimin giggled. “You asked me to give you an opinion!”

“I don’t care,” Jungkook pouted, flushed.

“I see we’re happy and giggling this morning,” Namjoon walked in through the door.

“Oh, why are you so red, Kook?”

“Because he’s in Lo-”

“Stop it already, will you?” Jungkook placed his hands over Jimin’s mouth.

Namjoon smiled. “Okay. Let’s take a break from chuckles and giggles. It’s time for the check-up.”

“You can take your hands off now. I need to speak, you know?” Jimin spoke under Jungkook’s hands.

The boy glared at him, taking his hands off his mouth. To his relief, Jimin said nothing.

“I see you’ve eaten. You weren’t nauseated?”

“I feel way better than I’ve felt in days.”

“That’s good. Headaches?”

“Slightly. Nothing too strong, though.”

Jungkook gazed in wonder. How could Jimin laugh and joke around when his head was hurting? How much did he silently endure every day?

“The fever seems to have lowered too. I’ll check your vitals.”

Jimin nodded and rested his eyes.

When Namjoon finished checking Jimin, he sat down. By the look in his eyes, Jungkook could tell their conversation would begin shortly.

“Jimin… we need to have a talk.”

“I’ve already told you I’ll try to change. What more can I say?”

Jimin got defensive.

“That’s not the topic. It’s about something else. We owe you some apologies, Jimin.”

The boy arched an eyebrow.

“Apologies?”

“The fact is,” Namjoon continued, pulling his chair closer. “We hid some information from you, thinking that withholding it would help you focus on your recovery only. But you discovered it yourself, so there’s no need for us to hide it anymore.”

“It’s about Taehyung, right?” Jimin murmured.

“… yes. He’s in Seoul.”

A long pause followed. Jungkook searched Jimin’s face for a reaction. But he looked emotionless. The younger boy squirmed, uneasy, under the tense silence. In his ears Jimin’s giggles still echoed, his cheeks were still aflame, and yet, everything at vanished at the mention of Taehyung.

“A-are you angry, hyung?” Jungkook whispered, making himself small under the weight of the guilt.

Jimin broke his silence. “I was, I’m not gonna lie. I was quite disappointed at first, but I… get why you did it.”

Silence filled the room.

“Jungkook. Mind giving more info on the situation?” Namjoon asked.

“M-me?” Jungkook mouthed.

The doctor nodded.

The boy gulped, eyeing Jimin. His expression was unreadable. He was staring at the bedsheets, and still seemed calm and unaffected.

“Well… I met him the day you got hospitalised, in a convenience store. It was just by chance; he didn’t expect any of us to be here either. He’s been living in Paris and New York working as a stylist since he left Busan, but a month ago he came back.”

“It was me who told him where you were, but I knew nothing about the bracelet situation.”

“I… met with him some other times,” Jungkook added, as if he had somehow betrayed Jimin by doing so.

“After I gave him the address, I thought he would come to visit you when you woke up, but…” Jungkook stopped short before he could hurt Jimin even more by saying Taehyung was actively avoiding him.

“I see.”

“If you… while we’re here, you can ask questions. Is there anything you want to know?” Namjoon said.

Jimin stood in silence, impassable. He looked so unaffected that Jungkook thought he hated Taehyung so much not to care at all.

But when he opened his mouth to speak, a quiver in his voice betrayed him.

“Has he grown tall?” he muttered; eyes low.

Namjoon stood eyeing with pity the boy, who still felt the need to hide behind a façade.

“Yes… he’s almost as tall as Namjoon hyung,” said Jungkook in a low tone, “… and his voice has gotten deeper…” 

“I’m the only one who hasn’t changed…” Jimin let out a bitter chuckle.

“Has he… been enjoying himself after leaving us?” He muttered. Jungkook glanced at Jimin’s fists, closed tight and shaking.

Jungkook eyed Namjoon, asking for permission. It was a delicate topic. When Namjoon nodded with resignation, Jungkook spoke.

“He doesn’t talk much about his time overseas. But it seems like he didn’t quite like it there. He looks… quite unhappy right now.”

Jimin’s eyes betrayed his shock for a second before he went back to his attitude.

“I guess life’s a bitch everywhere, huh…”

“Hyung, are you okay?” 

Jungkook reached for Jimin’s hand, but he retreated when he noticed the anger in Jimin’s eyes.

“Huh? Of course,” Jimin sharply replied. “Why would you ask something like this? I’m totally fine.” Hurt and betrayed in his pride, and still as if he were desperately trying to defend it, he kept a straight face. His hands were still shaking, though, and he avoided meeting the boys’ gazes.

“C-could you please stop staring at me? It’s annoying.”

“I’ll go get some fresh air.” He got off the bed, grabbed the IV pole, and disappeared behind the door.

“Ji-”

“Don’t,” Namjoon said, in a stern voice. “Don’t follow him.”

“But what if he’s too weak to walk around? What if he needs help?”

“Jimin knows his limits. Let’s give him some time by himself. He won’t let it out with us. Let him calm down on his own.”

Jungkook sat back down on the chair.

“I can’t with this situation anymore. I can’t stand seeing Jimin suffering like this and still pretending it’s fine. Why won’t he let go of this facade? It’s better when you can lean on friends.”

“Not everyone’s as open as you when it comes to suffering. People cope differently. Jimin is good at helping others feel better. But when dealing with his own weaknesses, it’s just embarrassing and humiliating to show or to be forced to admit them. He’s prideful and seeing his long-lost friend avoiding him is something that must have hurt him a lot.”

“I see…” Jungkook murmured. “Can I at least go check on him?”

Namjoon arched an eyebrow. “I’ve just told you-”

“No, I don’t mean like that. He won’t see me! I Just want to make sure he’s safe.”

“Please…”

“Fine,” Namjoon eventually said. “But don’t interfere with him. You’re just going to make it worse if you try. He’s still weak, but not in enough physical pain to surrender. You will just earn anger if he catches you.”

“Yes, I promise, I won’t do anything!”

Jungkook looked around. He wasn’t in the corridor. Had he already gotten to the garden? He ran to the door that led outside and peeked out, trying not to be seen.

A couple of flights of stairs below, Jimin was sitting on the steps, sobbing, palm pressed to his mouth to be quiet. Jungkook sat right under the door frame, in a spot from which he was sure Jimin couldn’t see him, but so that he could check on Jimin if he wanted to.

It broke his heart to hear his hyung trying to muffle his whimpers, taking deep breaths and then sobbing all over again. Jungkook questioned his and Namjoon’s decision to talk about Taehyung that morning. Jungkook remembered the giggles that had delighted his heart not even an hour before and wondered how they could have come from the same person who was now so deep in sorrow.

Maybe it would have been better to wait. If they had just waited, maybe Jimin could have gotten a break. Instead, they had taken his happiness away from him, replacing it with bitter suffering.

Soon enough, tears began welling up in his own eyes. Every desperate sob escaping Jimin’s lips was another hit to his heart, already heavy with guilt and regret. 

“Come” Namjoon suddenly appeared and dragged Jungkook back into the corridor. The doctor didn’t stop until they reached the lounge area. He placed a steaming tea in front of the boy and sat in front of him.

“Empathy sucks.” The younger boy sulked, stirring the warm liquid.

“I told you it was useless to go after him. He didn’t see you, did he?”

Jungkook shook his head, wiping the last tears with the palms of his hands.

“Well, that’s good, I guess.”

“You know, hyung, sometimes I think Jimin really hates being here.”

Namjoon frowned.

“Not the hospital. Well, also, but I mean here in Seoul. I never heard him spare a kind word for this city. He never speaks about Busan either, but… I think he would be happier there.”

“Why do you think that?”

Jungkook sucked the disposable plastic stick. “I like it here. The busy streets, the river, all the perks that come with living in such a big metropolitan area…”

He gazed at the tender leaves dancing in the wind outside. “But this does not feel like home. I mean, Busan will surely have gotten bigger and modernised since we left. Maybe it’s because we lived on the outskirts, but it felt more as if we were a family. A small community, where everyone knew each other, and our parents would know we did something wrong before we could even get home. The kids were everyone’s kids, there was trust and everyone helped raise them.”

“Here in Seoul, apart from who you get to know at work, you’re on your own. I’m not saying it’s bad, it’s just a different lifestyle. Jimin used to be sociable and outgoing. But to provide me with the best possible life, he forced himself to live isolated, with barely a friend, far from his family and all he loves.”

Jungkook rested his chin on the table. “I don’t think this is right for him. Dancing, friends, his city, his family. He’s been deprived of all he needs to be happy and it’s slowly killing him.”

Deep in thought, Namjoon said nothing. They stood in silence until Jimin came, eyes puffy and swollen. He dragged himself towards a couch and weakly let himself go with a huff. 

“Hyung…” 

Namjoon shot the boy with a warning glare.

Jungkook continued anyway.

“I forgot about it yesterday, but I brought you something. Wanna look at it for a second?”

It surprised the two boys when Jimin gave them a warm smile. “Why not? Let’s go. Is it in my room?”

That was not the response they were expecting. “Y-yes,” Jungkook stuttered.

So they went, and Jimin sat back on the bed, yawning, as if it hadn’t been him, the one crying his eyes out just minutes before.

Namjoon had already disappeared into the maze of rooms and corridors that was his hospital, too busy to spare anything more than the time he had spent with them.

“So, what is it?” 

Jungkook was deep in thought. He observed Jimin’s face, his movements, his voice. But there wasn’t anything, not even a hint of the pain he had mutely expressed before. Guilt, regret, pity. All these feelings flooded Jungkook’s heart as he looked at Jimin’s warm but weak smile, his soft skin, still as pale as ever, his shining honey eyes surrounded by dark circles. He looked spent; gracious, but exhausted, hopeful, and yet suffocating in a world of chains and despair. 

Oh, if only Jungkook could set him free. If only he had the key to those locks, a way to give him freedom and give him back all he had unconsciously taken away from him.

“Kook?”

The younger snapped out of his thoughts.

“Hey… you alright? I’m not mad at you, nor at Namjoon. It’s fine.” Jimin gave him a reassuring smile.

Jungkook was on the verge of tears. It was so frustrating to see Jimin smile like that, lie after lie, never being truly honest about his pain.

“Jimin, you-”

Their fight flashed before Jungkook’s eyes. Would it end up like that once again? He knew better than exposing Jimin’s pain. He would get defensive and would start yelling at Jungkook.

He sighed, wiping a tear that had escaped his control.

“What is it? What’s making you so worried?” Jimin murmured, patting the spot next to him on the bed.

Jungkook sat there, next to Jimin, eyes low. The older one placed a hand on the boy’s back.

“You can tell me,” 

“I-if you want, of course…” he quickly corrected himself.

Jungkook smiled at that. Jimin was trying to give him space. 

“I’m sorry, hyung, I’m just overwhelmed with everything that has been happening.”

“I get it,” Jimin murmured, staring at the sky outside. “it’s not a simple situation, the one I put you in, is it? I’ve suddenly left you alone, and you have to think about Yin’s lunches too… It must be tiring.”

“I’m okay…” Jungkook sighed. “Just… that’s not the problem, I’m… I hate to see you like this, in this hospital. I hate to see you here, or anywhere else, so tired and always thinking about others only. I am sorry that I forced you to do all this to yourself.”

It took a while for Jimin to respond. For a second Jungkook thought he had messed up again, that he had, once again, used the wrong words at the wrong time. He regretted speaking. Namjoon had warned him, Jimin was already hurt, why was he insisting? Why couldn’t he be quiet for once?

“You did not force me to do anything, Jungkook. I’ve already told you.” Was Jimin’s answer. To Jungkook’s surprise and relief, there wasn’t anger in his voice. Not what he had expected after their last fight. 

“Don’t beat yourself over this. It’s not right. I chose to help you, and I regret nothing. I’m glad I had the means to help you, and… yes, I wouldn’t change a single thing.”

That’s the problem. He shouldn’t be wanting to keep living like that. But that wasn’t something Jungkook had the courage to say out loud right now, nor would it have actually been useful. Jimin wouldn’t have listened.

Jimin had said he would try, but that would require time.

“Let’s not go back to this topic, Kook, there’s nothing more to discuss. You had to show me something, right? Well, then show me.”

Jungkook forced himself to nod. 

They spent the rest of the morning looking at a magazine Jungkook had brought. Not that Jungkook was so interested in cafes and interior design, but he thought Jimin would like it, so, while walking towards the hospital the day before, he had stopped at a kiosk and had bought it. And it seemed indeed to be of Jimin’s liking: his eyes sparkled as he eagerly devoured the pictures with his eyes, pulling them close to his face so he could observe every detail, to take inspiration and furnish his imaginary coffee shop.

It was such a simple thing, and yet, Jimin had welcomed it with the delighted enthusiasm of a child. The simple fact of being able to look at something he liked and dreaming of it brought colour back to Jimin’s cheeks; it brought genuine smiles to his lips, the kind of wide smiles that made his dimples visible and his eyes turn into small crescents. 

Only, sometimes, the smile would fade, his eyes would fall on the bracelets loosely tied around his wrist and would wander off into the void. 

But it was just instants, and although Jimin’s troubled face didn’t escape Jungkook’s attentive eyes, they were, after all, mere seconds in an entire morning of happiness. 

Maybe Jungkook was indeed on the right path. Maybe he could really be able to do something for Jimin, although so tiny in comparison to what he wished he could give him. But something it was, nevertheless. Seeing the glint in Jimin’s eyes returning after what felt like centuries, Jungkook couldn’t help but think that even if it would be hard, Jungkook had to learn how to live on his own and let Jimin have his freedom, his life back.

He still had many issues to solve, many wounds, many fears. Being on his own wouldn’t be easy. Plunging into a new future wouldn’t be awesome, but terrifying. And yet, seeing what his efforts, no, what their efforts, of all of them combined, could lead them to, made it all seem less dark and scary. 

There might be something good in this world, after all. There might be something worth fighting for. Maybe he couldn’t forgive himself for what he had done to Junghyun, what he had done to his hyungs. But there was something they could build together, something they could overcome, something for him to fight for.

He had someone to fight for, someone else, who he could maybe help and protect. 

He was scared. But Jimin’s eyes had awakened him. His smile had torn the veil that had made all reality look dim and hopeless. It had reminded him of Yin, of her words in the essays, of her love for the smallest details of life. In her eyes he had seen the stars, the sun rising. In her sobs, there was the intensity of that dusk he had once opened his eyes to, on the cold concrete of that roof.

All those things were calling him back, telling him there was something more, that there was something in life that was so beautiful that he couldn’t just let it go. With renewed conviction, Jungkook understood, there and then, that he didn’t simply want to survive, to walk on eggshells to avoid triggers. He wanted to live, and he wanted Yin to do the same, he wanted Jimin, Namjoon, Taehyung; he wanted everyone to live to the fullest. 

There had to be a way to mend everything, a way to fix all their problems.

Or maybe things wouldn’t go back to what they were. It didn’t matter.

It wouldn’t be an easy road. He would fall and trip countless times, he was aware. And yet, he would get up and try again.

Because it was worth it.

Chapter Text

External POV

It surprised Jungkook when, on Monday, as the bell rang and the student’s chattering quieted down, his gaze fell upon an empty desk in the room’s corner. 

He forced himself to continue as normal, although doubts were already tormenting him. Yin had been recently looking quite exhausted, or at least more than usual. Jungkook wondered if he had maybe done something wrong when taking care of her. Her dizziness episodes still hadn’t resolved. What if she hadn’t attended class because of that?. He scanned the other students’ faces, hoping to be reassured. Maybe they were all tired because of the incoming exams, and Yin was just slightly more fatigued because of her condition.

Occasionally, as he paced the room, explaining a rather complex author to the students, his eyes would instinctively point at where Yin should have been sitting. It had been quite a while since that spot had last been empty. 

Right, barely a month. It felt like ages, but it had only been a month since they had discovered Yin’s anorexia. He was proud of her progress, and yet… Jungkook couldn’t stop thinking that the girl was still in danger. He couldn’t forget how skinny she was, how weak she always looked, how terrified by her past. There was so much that could go wrong right now, as he spoke. She could be alone, helpless, and he wasn’t by her side.

If he could, he would have left the class. He would have run to her to make sure she was okay.

----------------------------

“Miss. Yoo, could you stop for a second? I need to ask you something.”

Yin’s friend separated from the group of students loudly exiting the room. When they were alone, Jungkook spoke.

“Is everything fine with Y- I mean, with Miss Kim?”

The girl shrugged. “She told me she was too tired and that she would attend later in the morning. But I don’t expect her to show up. She never tells me what’s really going on.”

“Alright. Thank you, you can go.”

What Yin’s friend had told him wasn’t reassuring. She could really just be tired, but what if she was sick? After much pondering, Jungkook texted her.

Jungkook

Hello. I just wanted to remind you that lunch’s at 1PM in the infirmary. Everything okay?

Class after class, he grew restless. She wasn’t answering, and she wasn’t the person to ignore texts on purpose. 

Sat in his chair, as he checked his phone once again, Jungkook threw his head back in frustration. He looked at the empty class.

Time slowed down in front of Jungkook’s eyes. Seconds were taking minutes to pass; minutes had become hours. Until it had really been hours, and Jungkook was so exhausted that he thought he would go insane.

And what if-

What if he… visited her?

He looked at his watch: 11:30 AM. He was lucky not to have any classes left for the day, so why not? Her roommate would be in class until 1 PM, anyway.

His energy renewed by the idea of finally seeing the girl, Jungkook hastily grabbed the food he had prepared for lunch and sped down the hallways and out into the open. 

Room 564, building C. He had overheard Jimin saying it once, and that number had stuck with him. 

Step after step, corridor after corridor, Jungkook came to a halt in front of the door. He checked his phone. Still no answer. He was about to knock, but then he stopped. What was he doing? Had he any right to come here? And what if someone saw him?

Enough with the questions. He was here to see if the girl was okay. His personal feelings had nothing to do with that, right?

Right?

“Is this the first time you fall in love?”

Jungkook shook his head, as if by doing so, he could forget Taehyung’s words. But it was inevitable. He had been thinking about it more and more ever since Taehyung had told him. Jungkook didn’t know what that word meant. He had read it countless times, heard it being analysed and interpreted by thousands of literates and writers. But reading a definition and experiencing it were completely different. If this was love, this… thing he felt for Yin, this warmth, this nervous, unsettling feeling that gave him both joy and fear… if this was love, then…

Then what?

Jungkook still hadn’t found an answer to that. What would he do? What was he allowed to do? Were there boundaries? Rules? Besides, would she be okay with it? What did he mean to her? 

And what if this wasn’t love? What if he was just acting on instinct, caring about her only because she reminded him of his brother? What if he did everything he did only to prove to himself he wasn’t the same powerless child of eight years ago?

He should just sit quietly, ignore his feelings. He would protect the girl, nothing more. But then, now, what was he doing in front of Yin’s door? Was he sure he was there just to check on her? Couldn’t he wait until lunchtime? Why was he so nervous about all this?

“Shut up,” he whispered to himself. He took a deep breath, and then he finally knocked.

Nothing.

He knocked again.

His heart was painfully pounding into his chest. Maybe she had indeed gone to class. Or maybe she was so sick she couldn’t get up, maybe-

The door creaked open. When the girl noticed who it was on the other side of the door, her eyes widened. Her frail figure was hidden in an oversized hoodie.

“J-Jungkook…”

His heart fluttered.

“Hello, Yin.” Jungkook looked around. “C-can I come in?”

“Oh, oh yes, of course, please enter.”

The door was closed behind Jungkook, and they stood in silence, awkward.

“So…” Yin murmured.

“I brought you some notes… from class…” Oh, what a stupid excuse. Where had all his courage disappeared? It’s not like it was the first time he talked to her. And why was he so nervous?

“Thank you.”

Should he leave? Or maybe stay to make sure she was fine?

“Would you like some… tea?”

“Yes, thank you.” he said before even realising.

“Then take a seat. It’ll just take a minute.”

Jungkook awkwardly sat at the table, and soon Yin was sitting in front of him, sipping her own cup of tea.

“Were you feeling unwell today?”

The girl flinched at the sudden question. 

“Um… It’s not… I mean, I’m not sick, but…”

She sighed. In the oversized hoodie, she looked even more frail and delicate.

“These days… my memories seem to be more vivid than ever.”

“Are you scared you could panic in class?” 

“A bit, but that’s not the problem. I just felt… unsafe going out. As if…” she shook her head. “It’s so childish and unreasonable.”

“Nothing is childish when it comes to this kind of thing.”

She bit her lip. “I… it’s impossible because he’s… not on this earth anymore. But… I–my mind somehow believes a person from my past.. is here and can hurt me. I thought staying in my room would help me, but… I just don’t feel safe, anywhere, right now.”

She took a deep breath, trying to avoid tearing up.

Their roles of student and teacher were slowly fading into the background, as if they had never mattered.

“Yin, I-”

“Damn, why is this door always so hard to open? Yah! Yin-ah, can you open it for me?”

Yin’s eyes widened. She grabbed Jungkook’s arm and dashed to her room.

“What-”

Yin placed a hand over Jungkook’s mouth.

“It’s Mina! What do we do?!” she whispered.

She looked around.

“Hide!” she pushed Jungkook inside her closet, and hastily closed it before he could say a word.

“Be quiet,” she urged, just in time before Mina could loudly barge into the apartment.

“Yah! Yin-ah!”

“Are you here? Where- there you are!”

From what Jungkook could see between the closet doors, Yin had walked out into the living room.

“H-hi Mina, how was the linguistics class?”

“We- We didn’t have linguistics today.”

“Ah, really?” Yin awkwardly laughed. “I really must be so tired that I forgot our timetable. I better go back to sleep.”

“Why are there two cups?”

Yin’s eyes widened.

“… Oh, wow, I was so t-thirsty that I didn’t realise I used two different cups!” Yin let out a nervous chuckle and hastily took a sip from each of the cups as if that would somehow prove something. Then, as she was drinking, she realised Jungkook’s lips had touched that cup, and choked on the tea.

Mina frowned. “You’re acting weird. What’s wrong with you? And those shoes?”

Yin froze. Jungkook’s shoes were neatly positioned next to the entrance. She glanced at her room and immediately regretted it. 

“Who’s in there? There’s someone inside, right?”

“M-mina, it’s not as it seems…” she started. She glanced back again, and made a run for her room, locking it behind herself just in time.

“Yah! Yin-ah! I’m not against you finally getting a boyfriend, but this is my apartment too, you know? You can’t just bring people in without me knowing! I’m curious, let me see him! Is this the guy that makes you smile at your phone? Is it him, the lucky one to have the key to your heart-”

Jungkook’s heart skipped a beat.

“Y-yah, will you shut up, please?”

Mina chuckled. “Fine, do whatever you want. I had forgotten a book here. I’m heading out. But don’t think you’re getting away with it! You’re gonna have to explain it to me, eventually!”

They heard the door slamming, and the girl’s steps faded in the hallway.

Yin slid down to the floor, sighing. With a creak, the closet opened, and Jungkook carefully came out.

Their eyes met, and they stared at each other in disbelief, not exactly being able to process what had just happened. 

“I… should get out before your friend comes back.”

“Wait!”

Yin was surprised at her own tone.

“I mean… you should wait a bit, or you might meet Mina…”

“... Right.”

Jungkook sat down too, in silence, staring at the wooden ribs of the floor to distract himself.

“I’m… sorry. I didn’t mean to put you into this situation.”

Yin’s cheeks were ablaze. “Don’t worry about what h-happened. Mina might have overreacted on the spot, but she usually is very understanding. She won’t bother me much.”

“I see.”

“You… I sent you a text. You didn’t see it, did you?” Jungkook asked.

“Ah… I switched my phone off. Some days it’s just too much, and-” she sighed. “It gets overwhelming.”

They stood in silence, looking around the tiny room. They spoke no words, but it was comfortable. However, as the time went on, Jungkook grew worried about Mina’s return.

“It’ll be time for lunch soon. I should head out and prepare the food in the nursery. You can come around 1 pm, if it’s fine with you.” 

Yin lowered her eyes.

“What if we go together? Would that be better?”

“Do we have to leave the dorm…?” Yin brought her knees to her chest.

Jungkook got up and offered her his hand.

“Do you trust me?”

The girl hesitated for a second. Her hand was shaking when she finally grabbed Jungkook’s hand. 

“I’ll take that as an answer. Let’s go to that place. There’s something I want to show you.”

The girl was puzzled. “That… oh! That place.”

And so they were out. Yin had brought her backpack, homework and all, as Jungkook had told her to do. There wasn’t anyone around the campus, but for good measure, they walked separated, distant enough to be exchanged for two random people that had nothing to do with each other, close enough for Yin to feel safe.

Jungkook fiddled with a small key in his pocket. What would she think of it? Would she like it?

It had all been extremely rushed. Heck, he didn’t even know why he had done it, but in a week, everything was set up. Taehyung had been of great help, reassuring him and forcing him not to chicken out. Taehyung would have surely killed him if he didn’t show her what he had prepared. The surprise was there, and he had told the girl about it. There was no escape.

----------------------------------------

They climbed the stairs of the building and once again followed the corridors until they got to the door that led to the roof. 

Jungkook stepped outside.

“Wanna hold my hand?”

Yin immediately grabbed it, not fully comfortable with the roof yet. But instead of stopping where they had sat down the last time, Jungkook walked on, turning the corner. On the other side of the building, there was a small door, which led back inside.

“Where are we going?”

“Wait here for a second.” The girl reluctantly let Jungkook’s hand go and shivered when she was left alone.

Jungkook shut the door behind him. Not long after, though, his head cutely peeked out of a window she hadn’t previously noticed. 

“Come inside,” he said, a wide grin on his lips.

Now that Jungkook had opened the blinds of the windows, it was quite a bright space. It was a room, with a small table with two chairs right next to the door. On the other side, something that looked like a bed, or maybe a sofa. At the back, against the wall, stood a small cabinet.

“This-”

“Do you like it?”

“H-how did you-”

Jungkook smiled. “We always eat in the nursery, but… it’s not a great place to eat, isn’t it? This was a place for storage originally, but I convinced the guardian to let me use it, so… I’ve transformed it a bit.”

“S-sit down on the sofa. I’ll get the food ready.”

The girl closed the door behind her and did as she was asked. 

“It’s not the most comfortable thing in the world, but I tried my best with what I could find. It’s not that big of a space, so I had to reinvent things. I wish there was electricity and water too, but I guess we can’t have everything. We have light, at least.”

“I still can’t believe you did all this… did you carry these things all by yourself?”

Jungkook rubbed his neck, shy. “Yes. B-but it was actually a friend of mine who helped me with the interior stuff. He’s way better than me at that. You can look around. There are some blankets and other stuff in the cabinet. I love coming here at night, and in winter it will be cold. There’s also some instant noodles and snacks… I’m not that good at cooking, as you might have guessed by now. It’s not perfect, but we can always make it better in the long run. I’m not great with decorations. Maybe you could give me a hand with that.”

In the long run. Yin’s heart skipped a beat at Jungkook’s plans. Did he mean he wanted to bring her here often? She had always loved secret places, but this… this was on another level. To even think something like this could exist in reality, on campus…

It was perfect. Right next to her dorm, and yet so distant from everything and everyone. A safe place… for them.

“I’m just so… this is amazing, Jungkook”

Her eyes were glimmering in excitement..

Jungkook had turned red as a beet, and he avoided looking in the girl’s direction to hide it.

“Thank you. But really, if there’s something you would like to add or bring here, you absolutely can.”

Totally invested in it, Yin walked back to the door to get a better view of the room.

“Maybe… Do you think we could place some fake plants around? They’re low maintenance and also aesthetic. I also have some extra fluffy pillows in my room. Those would fit really nicely here.”

Jungkook nodded.

“Why not? We could also put a-”

“Bookshelf?”

They looked at each other in amazement. 

If only Jimin had been there. He would have rolled his eyes at them. Now they were even completing each other’s sentences.

“A-anyway, feel free to bring any book you like. I’ll do the same.” Jungkook stuttered, setting the table. 

When everything was ready, they ate, enjoying the summer breeze that flowed into the room through the windows. Jungkook also told Yin about Jimin’s opinion on her dizziness, and she agreed to try eating some fruit every day. When they were done with the lunch, they sat outside of the room, leaning on the wall with their eyes closed as they enjoyed the pleasant sun.

“Aren’t you warm?” Jungkook pointed at Yin’s hoodie.

The girl shook her head. “I’m not. Oversized clothes make me feel safe.”

Jungkook’s hand found Yin’s on the ground. His touch was delicate, as if he were asking for permission, which the girl granted by squeezing his hand.

“Are you anxious about tomorrow?”

The girl opened her eyes. “Let’s say I’m not that eager. I’d rather not go, but I also know it’s for the best. I’m scared my memories will get more intense, though. Digging in my past is making me more uncomfortable with… eating, and… my body. I don’t want to lose control. That’s scary.”

Jungkook let out a sigh. “I know it’s scary. It’s terrifying sometimes. I won’t lie to you. But it’s better than keeping it all in.”

After they had rested plenty of time under the warm rays, Jungkook led the girl back inside. 

“You have your homework with you, don’t you?”

She nodded.

“I have some papers to mark, too. Maybe we could stay here a little longer.”

“That would be perfect,” Yin widely smiled.

Jungkook spent some time explaining to her what he had taught in class that morning, and to his surprise, she asked many questions and expressed personal reflections of her own.

“You never talk in class,” he commented.

The girl shrugged. “I don’t do it on purpose. Just… when I’m there with all the other students, it’s as if my mind goes blank and I can’t think of anything to say.”

“But I guess that’s what every introvert feels, right?”

“Right.”

“I know it’s still early, but have you thought about what you’d like to do when you get your degree?”

“I… I’d like to publish a book one day. Nothing big. Just… something that someone could casually find on the most forgotten bookshelf of a library. It doesn’t have to be a bestseller, just… a simple story, one that would talk of regular things, nothing too absurd. A small, hidden treasure of everyday life. But I don’t know if I could actually be a writer. I think of it as something more like a hobby.”

Jungkook smiled. “That’s a beautiful thing. I hope I’ll be one of the lucky guardians of that book one day.”

---------------------------------------

It was awkward to write an essay right in front of Jungkook, and then handing it to him for him to mark it. But after having gotten over the embarrassing moment, it all went smoothly. When Yin was done with her homework, she pulled out a ball of yarn.

Jungkook curiously looked as she took out other tools he didn’t quite understand.

“What is that?”

“Crochet. It’s like knitting, but you use one hook instead of two knitting needles. I like to crochet sometimes in my free time. It’s relaxing and you don’t have to think much about it. I’ve just gotten an idea for this place.”

Jungkook arched an eyebrow.

Yin drew out a piece of paper. “We don’t have any measuring tape, do we? Oh wait! Maybe I have it.”

To Jungkook’s surprise, she pulled her sleeves up, revealing her bandaged wrist. Wasn’t Yin uncomfortable with exposing her arms? 

But the girl was totally invested in her project. She measured the walls of the room and then wrote everything down.

“What are you doing now?”

“I’m figuring out how much yarn I will need for what I have in mind…” she murmured, biting the cap of the pen. 

“If I were to crochet a garland, something resembling a climbing vine, but also putting some flowers on it, what colour should I make them? Pink and yellow? Maybe also red?”

She looked at Jungkook, waiting for a response.

“You’d better not ask for my opinion. I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

The girl chuckled. “Then pink, yellow and red. Assuming I make a dozen flowers, and I make some chains out of green yarn to resemble vines… and leaves too… If I take the weight and divide it by the length of it… taking my tension into account… I should definitely make a swatch for each element I’ll assemble.” 

“Have we just jumped into a maths class? What’s all this?”

Yin giggled. “It sounds complicated, but it’s really easy. Look: this is the pattern I have in mind.” 

Jungkook sat on the bed next to the girl, and she showed him a rough sketch of what she had described him up to now. 

“I’ll make a swatch so you can see what I’m talking about. I only have purple yarn with me right now, but it’s fine.”

She grabbed her crochet hook and started creating a small flower. Jungkook was staring, both in awe and confusion, as the girl’s fingers swiftly moved.

“Tada!” she grinned, giving the flower to Jungkook. “Just picture many of these hanging down the walls. Wouldn’t they look cute?”