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not7wu · 9 months

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Chapter Ten: Branded

Recap: You haven't had a chance to peruse the info on the USB yet, but you stumbled upon more sticky notes warning you that digging deeper may end up hurting you and everyone else. You find a photo of you and Jin that confirms you are his love even as Jimin and Tae confirm that you can find more answers at Areum's house. In the battle between you and Hobi, Jimin and Tae seemed to have picked your side and tell you a bedtime story about a girl at the end of the universe and her pink boy.

You feel your body being jostled and groan. “Go back to sleep, Tae.”

“Why is she blaming me? You’re the one holding her.”

“Be quiet, Tae,” Jimin scolds near you. “Shh, just go back to sleep.”

Something…doesn’t seem right. For one, you’re burritoed in your duvet with your face covered. Two, you’re cradled in someone’s arms–Jimin’s you assume from Tae’s context. And three, you don’t feel like Jimin is moving you so much as you’re being weightlessly propelled forward. You yank the blanket off your body.

“Oh my god, you guys, what are you doing?!”

You’re sitting on Jimin’s lap in the back of one of their SUVs, opposite Tae. It’s still dark out and the sandman’s dust must still be in your eyes because Seoul’s city lights shine like twinkling bokeh. The digital clock on the dash reads 0400. You turn a searing glare upon the two gremlins who bequeath innocent smiles upon you.

“Are you guys trying to Meredith Blake me like in Parent Trap?”

Tae scoffs. “We’d only set you adrift on a lake if you were a homewrecker.”

“Technically, the mom was the homewrecker since they were divorced and Meredith was engaged to the dad,” Jimin corrects.

“Oh my god, not relevant! Where are we even going?”

Jimin flashes his pearly whites and smooths the duvet. “Don’t worry, Y/N. Close your eyes and I’ll sing you a lullaby.”

“As tempting as that is, I’m gonna have to pass.”

“Cool! In that case,” Tae plops a hefty duffel bag onto your gut making you grunt. “Change into these!”

“No! There’s nowhere else to go!”

Tae claps his hands over Jimin’s eyes and whines, “We’ll close our eyes. Promise!”

“The chauffeur still needs eyes to drive, Tae.”

“He can squint,” Jimin giggles, blindly.

“He can barely see as it is! It's the dead of night and dark as hell.”

"It's technically morning," Jimin says, as if that makes a difference.

You only barely refrain from strangling him in frustration. "'Technically', it's so early that it isn't even the ass crack of dawn yet!"

Jimin tilts his head in consideration, unbothered that Tae’s hands are still blinding him. “But isn’t it the ass crack of dawn? I don’t think ass cracks get to see much sunlight.”

“Jiminie, your ass crack deserves sunlight.”

“Thank you, Tae. It does. Tan lines are yuck.”

Don’t punch them. Don’t punch them. Don’t punch them. You settle with kneeing Tae back so you’re not smushed between him and Jimin. “None of this is helping.”

“Well, if you won’t sleep and you won’t change, then we can’t help you," Tae pouts.

“Driver-nim, where are we going?”

“He has been sworn to secrecy or must give me his first born child!”

The two gasp as if you asked the driver to run over a puppy. Jimin shakes his head gravely. “You can’t just ask him that. Think of the children.”

"What children?"

You can see in the rearview mirror that the driver is trying to stifle a laugh. “Don’t encourage them.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N-ssi. I find it’s best to just go along.” After a moment’s hesitation, he adds, “Plus, my first born is already in college overseas.”

“Betrayer! Does your oath mean so little?”

You groan and look to the heavens for patience as the driver succumbs to his laughter. “Tae, what would you even do with a child?”

“Shower them with all my love and care. I think I’m going through empty nesting syndrome.”

Jimin coos in sympathy. “But you still have Y/N and a whole ass baby Jungkookie.”

“Yeah, but they’re really resistant. Terrible twos are a thing, you know.”

You roll your eyes, “Wow. Gee. Why ever would I resist your love and care when it means kidnapping people from their beds?”

Tae sniffs. “I’m glad you see it my way. Jiminie, I want a turn with the baby. Hand her over.”

Jimin tips you over towards Tae, but you simply slide off his lap and shove Tae against the door. “Hands off. This baby is gonna sit right here.”

You drop the duffel in a disappointed Tae’s lap and bunch the duvet over a giggling Jimin. They slide their burdens to the floor and hold your hands hostage in each of theirs. You sigh like you’re being put upon, but you’re not really that mad. Your head is still a bit fuzzy and irritable because it’s much too early for their antics, but otherwise, you’re okay. Besides, spending time with these two is like watching a trainwreck, except they’re not the train or the wreck. They’re the traffic controllers conducting from afar and you can’t look away, even if they put you on the train. They’re so charming and cheerful, you can’t help but be mesmerized and impressed.

You must have dozed off at some point because you feel a breeze as a window whirs down. You struggle with the duvet that you’re once again wrapped in and squint around you. The sky is a little lighter, although the sun hasn’t appeared yet. Outside, the ocean is serene with a low hanging mist curled along the silky water where all sizes of boats bob next to the docks.

You have no idea how or when Jimin got an iced americano, but he's holding it reverently in both hands out of the window as if in offering to some higher deity. Confused, you glance at Tae who is looking down at you, giddy.

Jimin shouts, “Yoongi-hyung! Look! I brought you coffee!”

You see your surprise is mirrored by Yoongi who is standing under the awning of some maintenance shack a ways away. He has a facemask on, black bucket hat sitting tightly on his head, dressed in a thick plaid button up and sweatpants. His surprise morphs to confusion as he quickly gathers his wits and shuffles towards the vehicle, Jimin now waving his bait enticingly at him.

“Uh, thanks, but what are you doing here?” he calls out to Jimin, pulling his facemask down. His dumpling cheeks are bunched up, eyes glued to the caffeine nectar. You want to warn him not to fall for the duo’s trap because he obviously doesn't suspect a thing. How could he not suspect a thing when he’s lived with these tricksy pixies for over a decade? You open your mouth, but Tae slaps a hand over it, giggling. You have the thought that the world is lucky Jimin and Tae are good people. If they were truly evil, you shudder to think what horrors they’d get away with.

When Yoongi nears the vehicle, Jimin pushes open the back passenger door and shoves Yoongi in. Yoongi yelps, struggling to not drop the iced americano Jimin unceremoniously tosses towards him so he can climb in behind Yoongi. It’s then he notices you.

“Y/N?” He looks from you to Tae. He glances at Jimin and realizes he’s caged in. “What’s going on?”

You can only muffle against the hand still clapped over your mouth. Before you can put up a struggle, Tae pulls you out of the car. You barely catch the duffel bag he tosses at you when he shouts, “Go, driver-nim! Go, go, go!” The door shuts and the car peels away, leaving you coughing at the dust that the car kicks up.

What the actual fuck.

You’re out in the cold, god knows where, in only your pajamas. You’re going to kill Tae and Jimin when you see them next. You’re gonna murder them. Stubbornly, you drop yourself to sit on the ground. You have no shoes on and the gravel does not look forgiving. Regardless, you will not move from this spot; you refuse to play into whatever the twins are scheming.

You can hear the ocean lap and crash against the docks and if you close your eyes, it’s almost serene. A salty breeze whisks through your hair and…a wave of disappointed irritation washes over you. This could have been nice if Tae and Jimin had prepared you better and hadn’t abandoned you. You move to brush your hair away from your eyes, when your hand snags on the duffel in your lap. Oh yeah. You dig inside and find your clothes. There’s no phone, but there is a t-shirt, hoodie, comfy worn-in jeans, socks, sneakers, and baseball cap along with some basic toiletries, snacks, and water bottles. Your mild relief is short-lived when you feel a presence behind you and someone clears their throat.

Throwing your head back, you see Jin upside down, his smile fond, but brows concerned. He does a brief scan of the surroundings before settling on your pathetic huddled form. He emits a defeated sigh. “I assume Yoongi is gone?”

“It’s not his fault. The devil’s crotch goblins kidnapped him.”

“And you’re his replacement, huh?” He comes around so you don’t have to keep staring at him upside down. He crouches and peruses the duffel. “Well, at least they had a tiny shred of decency.”

“Mercy. Tiny shred of mercy. There’s nothing decent about those malignant minxes.”

He chuckles and reaches out, rubbing your shoulder. “Want me to drive you home?”

You take in your surroundings again. The ocean. Docked boats. Jin is dressed warmly, his torso secured with a life jacket and tackle vest. “You’re fishing today.”

“Yeah, but I can fish a different day. How about we order some takeout for breakfast and pick it up on our way home?” That does sound good, but… He continues, “And Taehyung just ordered a package of gourmet strawberries. We could eat them all and leave a few stems and the empty carton on Jimin’s night stand. And we can hide Jungkook’s banana milk and put a half drunk one on Taehyung’s night stand.”

You stare at Jin in awe. “That’s deliciously diabolical. Have them destroy each other from the inside out, but also with a dose of muscle KangaKoo. Way better than my plan.”

“What’s your plan?”

“Cut off all the heels of Jimin’s boots and play the long game of bribing Yeontan with peanut butter so I become his favorite instead of Tae.”

“Por que no los todos?” he winks. His reply has you both bursting into giggles, his shoulders shaking. Looking at him like this, you don’t think it’s the giggles that have you breathless.

Laughter dwindling down to soft smiles, you shrug the duvet off your shoulders and stand with Jin. “Let’s punish them later. I’ll keep you company while you fish.”

“Are you sure? I know you’re not a fan of fishing.” Jin shoulders the duffel and gathers the duvet up. There’s something about this moment that feels domestic and familiar. He’s barefaced, eyes radiant and lips slightly chapped. You love seeing him like this, relaxed in a way you rarely see. You know he doesn’t often get time like this to himself and you mentally curse at Tae and Jimin as you realize you’re playing into their hands.

But you would be lying if you didn’t appreciate having uninterrupted time alone with Jin.

“I’m not a fan of fishing, but I’m a fan of keeping you company. Didn’t you know you’re my bias?” You don’t know where your boldness comes from, but you’re satisfied when you see the tips of Jin’s ears go pink and his smile deepens.

An hour later, the charter boat is trawling the dark waters off the coast of Incheon. Your legs are tucked under you, perched on a welded bench next to the railing where Jin is casting his line a few feet upwind of you. The wind is a little choppier out on the open water, occasionally spraying mist that tickles some nostalgia in you, but a nostalgia you’ve never actually experienced, or at least not one you can remember.

It’s still early morning, but the sun is now fully in the sky. The waves sparkle and wink and you can barely see the coast. Maybe you should be admiring the vastness of the azul landscape before you, where the ocean bleeds into the sky, but you instead find yourself enraptured with Jin.

There hasn’t been much said between you and Jin since the boat left its berth. There hasn’t been any need. You revel in the peace that has settled in Jin, hair messily swept, cheeks bitten red, his hands firm and steady on rod and reel. His broad shoulders that seemingly carry the weight of Korea are lax. In fact, with his stance, he doesn’t seem to anticipate catching much of anything out here, and you wonder if his fishing trips aren’t so much for the sport, but for the escape.

“Are you cold?” Jin has his head cocked. You hadn’t even realized you were shivering which means he was paying more attention to you than you thought. You blush at the implication that he noticed you staring at him.

“A little.”

“Come here.” He reaches a hand towards you. You approach him with a protest ready thinking he’ll offer you his own jacket, but instead he positions your back to the rails and wraps his arms around you so he can continue fishing. You suck in a startled breath. Even with the life jackets creating a little barrier between you two, you can feel the heat emanating off him. With the bulk in the way, you have no choice but to wrap your arms around his neck.

Your heart quickens at the sudden proximity. It’s not the first time you’ve been this close to Jin. You cuddled the first night…but he was consoling you. He slept next to you the other night, but that was you consoling him. The only other time you felt this intense pull, this magnetism to him was when you did the dishes with him after the first dinner. You try to reason with yourself that the position you’re in now is for practical reasons. Jin is just trying to keep you warm.

But his face is right there. His face is right in your face. “You could have just given me your jacket, you know?” you say shakily.

“You would have kicked up a stink about it.” He’s not wrong. “Plus, I figure I’d give you a close up view of what you’ve been staring at all morning.”

He chuckles as you hide your face against his collarbone. “Stop laughing at me.”

“I’m sorry. You’re just too cute.”

“And you’re mean.” Of course, you don’t really mean that. The way his body is shaking in mirth has you smiling. You feel him press a kiss to your head and you feel the warmth of it spread through your body. You look up at him.

You don’t know what expression is on your face, but he suddenly looks unsure of himself. “Sorry. About the kiss. It’s hab–. Um, sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

Jin shifts as if to let you go, but you tighten your arms and he stills. Your eyes zero in on his lips, pink and plush and so, so close…you bury your head in his chest again to stop yourself.

Jin loves you. He is in love with you. But for some reason they’ve been trying to keep it hidden from you. Jin alluded that his reasons were so you wouldn’t feel pressured to do anything. Hobi…well, you don’t know what Hobi’s problem is. Do they just want to wait until you are sure of your own feelings?

You think you love Jin.

But what do you know of love? Everyone claims the life you knew was fake, but all you know is what you experienced in that fake life. The love of friends and family. You had a few boyfriends and you had loved them. If that wasn’t real, then would you really know if you are in love now? You want to be fair to Jin. It’s clear he loves you dearly from his story and Jimin’s story.

And you don’t want to cling to Jin just because he’s there. To latch on to him. Another part of you reasons that you aren’t this way with any of the other boys. It’s not like you want to sink into them like you want to sink into Jin. You don’t want to be the only person they see like the way you want Jin to look at you. Only Jin.

Jin has returned to fishing. You can feel the way his arms hold strong against the resistance of the water as the line drags, his embrace tightening around you every now and then. He seems to absentmindedly rub his cheek against your head. Your ear is pressed to his chest and you can hear his heartbeat over the fluttering wind. Despite how steadily he’s been holding you, not just in this moment, but from the first moment you woke up, you’re aware that this whole situation hasn’t been fair or kind to him either.

You don’t know how long the both of you stand there like that, with you tucked into him, shifting occasionally so he can recast his line. When you next look up, the sun is higher in the sky and the day has warmed. Jin glances down at your emergence and smiles, gently rubbing your cheek with one hand.

“The vest left an imprint on your face.”

You pout. “I wouldn’t have been self-conscious about it if you hadn’t pointed it out.”

“I was worried your face might feel sore.”

You resist leaning further into his touch. “I’m okay.”

“Are you bored yet?” He assesses you. “We can start heading in.”

“But you haven’t caught anything yet.”

“There are definitely days Yoongi and I don’t catch anything. The captain usually gives us whatever he catches if we don’t so we can at least still have sashimi after.”

You lean further back onto the railing because it’s hard to look at him directly with him so near. “We can stay a little longer.”

He brushes your hair back, which is useless with the wind still blowing, but it feels nice. “Wanna play a game?”

“I don’t know. If it’s a fish naming game, I only know like five fish and I’m pretty sure one of them is a mammal, so really, I only know like four fish.” You’re pleased that you make him laugh. It’s not the windshield wiper laugh, but a deeper one from his chest. The vibrations it sends through you is thrilling.

“Well, there goes my idea. What game do you wanna play?”

You’re not that good at games and you don’t know many games. The ones that come to mind are Truth or Dare or Never Have I Ever. The latter seems like a bad idea when your memory is so messed up, and as much as you want the truth, you don’t particularly want to participate in any dares. The idea of truths sticks though.

“Um, how about Fact or Fiction? I state something and you tell me if it’s fact or fiction.”

Jin bites his lip, unsure. You pull on the ties of his vest and play with the buckles. You know he’s worried about overstepping the Rules. He has no idea that the Rules have already been mangled beyond recognition.

“Alright. Hit me.”

“Really? You’ll play?” You’re a little surprised he gave in, but you can tell he’s fond of how excited you are.

“I’ll play.” He laughs as you wiggle from a sudden burst of energy, your mind racing with things you want to ask. There’s just too much and you’re worried that he won’t answer or you’ll push him too far, so you decide to start small.

“Your favorite color is pink.”

He scoffs. “You already know that one. Fact.”

“What? I have to create a baseline.”

“Oh, am I taking a polygraph now?”

“Shush. Your favorite food is sashimi.”

He rolls his eyes. “Fact.”

“You have 20/20 vision.”

“Fiction.” That gives you pause. You know he sometimes wears glasses, but you thought it was more for aesthetics.

“Really? So are you wearing contacts?”

“No. I got lasik.”

“Oh.”

“You got lasik too.” Whoa, hold the phone.

Actually, now that you think about it, dream you had glasses and wore contacts. And since you woke up, you haven’t felt the need to wear any corrective eyewear. With everything else going on, it wasn’t really something you thought about. “I got lasik?”

Jin blushes. “My vision was really bad and the company convinced me to get lasik, but I was…nervous about it. So you went and got it first so you could coach me through the process. I couldn’t not get it after you went and did that.”

“I should hope so,” you joke. He huffs and squeezes you as you giggle. You sputter a bit on a strand of hair that the wind blows in your face and catch him watching you. “Were you scared?”

“Yes. But you were with me every step of the way.”

“Good.” You gather your hair and brush it all to the opposite side the wind is blowing. “Fact or fiction? You are a nightowl.”

“Fiction. I usually sleep early, around 2100, and wake up earlier than the other guys. I like to have some peace and quiet to center myself before the day starts.” But he’s been staying up late with you. Keeping you company, reassuring you. Just another way you’ve rearranged his whole life. No wonder Hobi wants you to stay away from Jin. A finger boops your nose, breaking you from your mental spiral. You scrunch your nose and look up at Jin. “Say the next one.”

“Hobi-oppa has a problem with me,” spills from your mouth.

Jin’s grin dims and settles into something contemplative as he considers your statement. “You heard the other night.”

You nod. There’s no point in hiding it. If you wanted to dispel any suspicions, you probably should have proceeded with the movie night, but you just couldn’t.

“Hobi doesn’t have a problem with you. He just—Sometimes I forget that you aren’t the only one affected by this…situation. That I’m not the only one affected. That each of us are affected. We all deal with it in our own way and Hobi is dealing with it the best he can. He blames himself for the situation—we all do—but he is especially hard on himself.”

“Why?” You can see that Jin’s struggling to decide if it’s too much to tell you, his hands stilling from reeling. “Please, Jin?”

He sighs and looks out at the water. “Hobi was with you. The both of you caught the sasaeng fishing out used tissues and water bottles from one of the dance studio trash cans. Hobi was gonna talk to Bang PD-nim directly, but you said you’d handle it through proper channels because you work in HR, so he let it go. He thinks he should have done more so you weren’t in the line of fire. So that you hadn’t been targeted.”

Hobi feels guilty?

He shouldn’t. Sasaengs are notoriously unstable and you’re grateful that none of the boys were hurt. If it happened all over again, you wouldn’t have changed anything. It was your job and the boys are yours to protect.

“So, Hobi might come off abrasive and controlling, but he’s simply…overprotective of you. Of us. He has a set choreography and gets worried when we step out of the careful lines he’s made to keep us safe.”

Grudgingly, you understand. Hobi’s always been more by the book. And for all his projected sunshiney, carefree persona, he prefers to deal with tangible results. Still.

“I need him to cut me some slack or I’ll suffocate,” you quietly confess.

Jin pulls your hands from his vest. You don’t know what he’s done with the rod, but he warms your hands in his.

“Jin. I need answers. I can’t keep living like this.”

His eyes search yours and you don’t know what he finds there, but finally, he nods. “We’ll get through this.”

You’re not sure if he is trying to convince you or himself, but you silently think he shouldn’t make promises like that.

—

Soon after, Jin gives up for the day. As he said, the captain has been successful and shares his bounty with Jin. As you head back to land, Jin coaxes you into the Titanic pose and you both try to reenact the lines, giggling and improvising a few more. He holds you from behind and at one point, he gathers your hair and grips it like a ponytail so that it stops whipping him in the face. It takes everything in you not to let your mind wander into obscene scenarios with him tugging your hair like that.

Jin takes you to a hole in the wall restaurant close to the docks. His guards set up shop in one of the booths near the kitchen doors, but you’re led to a tiny table in the kitchen where the ajussi cook immediately prepares the sashimi from the fresh fish the captain caught. Turns out the ajussi cook is the captain’s brother and he taught Jin how to filet fish and prepare sashimi, but Jin still likes it best when he prepares it. With all the reminiscing and ribbing between the two, Jin simply says, “Food tastes better with good stories.”

The sashimi is accompanied with a myriad of other dishes, the table balancing a precarious number of plates. And Jin is right. The food tastes amazing. Although that could also be because you haven’t eaten all day and you are starved. When it’s time to go, the ajussi refuses payment, but Jin sticks a thick bundle of won into the tip jar as you exit.

It’s only 1400 and you expect to head straight home, but instead, you find yourself at a noraebang. You’re intimidated because who wants to sing next to a world renowned singer? Jin is quick to quell your worries though, goofing off with trot and rap songs. He even raps Jay-Z’s intro rap to Rihanna’s ‘Umbrella’ and you both come up with a zany interpretative dance. He even gets his guards to leave their post and coerces them into doing a few Big Bang and TVXQ songs. Jin kicks them out after they get a 100 score on their ‘Mirotic’ performance, jokingly complaining that they’re trying to upstage him. You don’t remember ever having laughed so hard.

Jin convinces the driver to let him drive, so the driver joins his guards in a different vehicle. Windows down, lazy tunes in the background, the day begins to catch up to you. Somewhere in the middle of Jin telling you a childhood story about how Jungie-hyung forgot about him in the middle of hide and seek because he got distracted by a ppopgi cart, you fall asleep, lulled by his voice.

You’re woken with a gentle hand. You sit up and smack your lips, mouth dry. You hope you weren’t snoring or drooling. You’re parked in front of a sprawling estate. Jin helps you out of the car, which is for the best because you’re disoriented and distracted by your surroundings. There’s a long, paved driveway lined with trees, the lawn crisply manicured. Before you stands a two story house. Most houses in Korea are historic or modern fortresses, but this house is similar to an English cottage. It still has hanok influences in the trimming and modern influences around the big picture windows, but despite its size, it still looks cozy, teeming with flowers and plants and a smokey chimney.

“Wow,” you breathe, enchanted. “This house is gorgeous. I feel like we’re in a Studio Ghibli film. Where are we?” You turn to Jin who is carefully observing you.

“I’ll tell you in a bit. Walk with me?” He takes your hand and you let him lead you down a side path into the garden. The path leads around to the backyard where a natural pool channels off to feed the flowers and plants, a controlled chaos that is wildly elegant.

The both of you sit on a small wooden bench, stretching out your legs as you both lean back and take in the garden. The silence is comfortable. It’s been a long day and being here feels like a well earned oasis. The wind rustles the tops of the trees and birds call from the branches. Dragonflies flit above the pool and butterflies glide among tiger lilies, hydrangeas, and delphinium.

Jin has his eyes closed, head tilted back as a breeze runs through his hair, the last bits of sunlight painting his face in a golden light. He seems untouchable like this. An adonis carved of marble never to be sullied by mortal hands. Yet here you sit, legs tangled, shoulder to shoulder, the heat belying the cold art of him. He turns to look at you and something in his eyes looks fearful, nervous, resigned, and you think, being art must be lonely.

The feeling that everything is about to change seeps into you. Jin looks at you like he’s trying to memorize you, one hand holding yours and the other coming up to cup your cheek. His palm follows the curve of your cheek to your jaw and his thumb brushes against your lips. Your breath stutters and his eyes dip to where your chest heaves. It feels like you’re standing at a precipice, and the only thing anchoring you is Jin’s hold on you. He holds on to you so tightly trying to keep you there even as the void calls to you to step back and jump.

“Jin,” you whisper. He lowers his hand. “Kiss me.”

Jin’s eyes drop to your lips before his eyes pierce yours with a determination that sets fire to you. His lips meet yours and the sweet bliss of it cracks your insides like the first bite of creme brulee. You share a shaky breath as his arms pull you into his lap, his tongue swiping your lip before delving into you, savoring you with every curl of his tongue against your own. His hand leaves goosebumps as it brushes up your arms and cradles your head, your hands trapped against his chest.

It feels like everything Jin can’t say is in this kiss. His claim. His love. His declaration that he is yours. His worship and delight. His grief and anguish. And just as it fills your heart and soul with home, home, home, there’s a whisper, a red hot knife’s edge of a farewell that cuts you even as it brands you, ruined for anyone else.

With one last press of his lips to yours, Jin pulls back. His eyes are naked like all his strength went into the kiss and now he’s left defenseless. All you see is don’t go, don’t go, don’t go and you desperately want to tell him that you’re not going anywhere, but you can’t. You need to jump.

Jin carefully leads you to the front door of the house. Your stomach swoops as you anticipate the jump. He raises his hand and knocks on the door and it seems to echo heavily like a gavel at your sentencing. There’s no turning back as the door opens.

“Y/N! I’m so glad you could make it,” Areum says, cheerfully. She swings the door wider. “Come in! We’re only halfway done cooking, so I hope you don’t mind keeping Byeol company.”

“Of course not.” Jin’s tight grip on you loosens as you enter, but you stop when you realize he’s not following you. Areum continues on, but you turn back to him. The sun has almost set, the twilight casting him in shadow, eyes unreadable again. “You’re not coming.”

“Someone will come pick you up when you’re done,” he says evenly. Someone. Not Jin.

You don’t know what you’ll find here that scares Jin so much. You think you’re in love with him, but you can’t quite trust yourself. It’s hard to trust yourself when he’s looking at you like you’re about to leave him forever. But there’s one thing you do know.

You come up to him and press your lips to his. When you step back, he looks a little dazed, surprised. Pleased, you say, “Fact. I’m yours.”

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not7wu · 10 months

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Chapter Nine: Building Bridges

Recap: Hobi had shown up with breakfast and proceeded to interfere with you. Jungkook took you on a picnic and you remembered how you became friends forever. You snuck away to grab a USB drive from Jihoon and Jungkook caught you. You were worried Jungkook would interrogate and tattle on you, but he only had one thing to say to you. Don't give up on your family.

The USB drive sits ominously in the middle of your bed. You almost expect it to start glowing and whispering in the tongue of Mordor like the One Ring. Thirty-two gigabytes of information just staring you in the face and you have to figure out how to access it.

You had expected the ride back with Jungkook would be tense, but he held your hand the entire time and shifted the conversation to discuss company preparations for an employee appreciation event the artists and higher ups are planning soon. He required no participation from you in the conversation, giving your hand the occasional squeeze of comfort as he let you organize your emotions.

Jungkook hadn’t interrogated you about Jihoon, so you don’t know what Jungkook thinks of Jihoon or his relation to you, but you trust that he won’t breathe a word to the members. You never imagined that the love Jungkook has for you is such that he’d keep a secret like this, and you vow to do your best to reciprocate his love and trust. He might not be able to be the ally you want, but his tacit support is like a lighthouse in the distance giving you hope that you may eventually reach steady ground.

And now you’re sitting in your apartment brainstorming. The disposable phone you bought earlier in the day is small enough that it can be explained away as some generic purchase of electronics, and you’re now glad that when you offered your black card to Jihoon, he had turned it down. He said he wanted to research some private investigators and then he would present you with a breakdown of their fees, costs, and retainer. He didn’t feel right just outright taking money from you. Now knowing that BTS are the POAs of your finances, you’re relieved that you didn’t give in to their encouragement of you swiping the black card willy nilly. How closely are they monitoring your finances? Would they monitor every single won? Do they have an alert for certain types of purchases? Or are they only notified if you spend a certain amount in one go?

Now that you think about it, you’re not sure how closely BTS monitor you in general. At Hannam the Hill, they’re mostly always with you except when you’re in your apartment. You’re pretty sure you don’t have guards. Otherwise they’d have reported your lunch with Jihoon…unless that’s why Hobi was fishing this morning. At least if you do have guards, no one has introduced you to them. Or maybe they’re plainclothes and hidden even from you, spying. It would make sense for you to have guards with Kim Chohee allegedly still out there, but you bristle at the thought of having additional ‘jailors’ even if it’s for your own safety.

You’re also not sure what kind of tracking software is on your work computer. You know the in-office chats and emails are monitored and that times are logged of computer activity, but maybe BTS would go so far as to mirror your screen and surveil every click and word typed. Is that paranoid of you to think so?

Just to be safe, using the work computer is out and you don’t think the members would let you go to a PC bang by yourself. You could try sneaking into one during lunch, but you don’t know if you’re being discreetly guarded and depending on how much information is on the drive, it could take multiple trips to sift through it all.

Maybe you can sneak onto the computer of one of the members when they aren’t looking. Jin’s gaming computer comes to mind, and you don’t think you’d have to try all that hard to get his password. A bitter taste fills your throat at the idea of tricking him into giving you the password though. All you’d have to say is you wanna try gaming or you wanna listen to music as you sleep and he’d so readily give it to you. You scrub your face. The contents of the drive are important. Should you really be so worried about deceiving him when that’s all the members have been doing to you?

You sigh. Maybe you could ask Jihoon to borrow his laptop if he owns one. That wouldn’t require you to lie. Or you could buy a laptop of your own. You’re gonna have to start making regular random cash withdrawals with your card to accumulate enough to give to Jihoon when he finally picks an investigator, so maybe you can also withdraw enough to buy a laptop of your own. But you don’t know how long that will take.

Frustrated, you groan and fall back onto your pillow. There’s probably an obvious solution that you’re completely missing because you’re just in too deep to look at this objectively. You need sleep and more time to think of better options.

In the meantime, you have to figure out where to hide the drive.

Your first idea is to hide it on your person at all times…but you worry that it’ll fall out of your pocket, or that you’ll accidentally forget about it only for it to end up in the laundry. You grab the drive and stalk around your apartment to look for a hiding spot.

You could mix it in with your makeup, tape it behind one of the cupboards, or stick it underneath your mattress. As you’re staring at your fridge though, you spot the note from your cleaning ajumma, Lee Hye. Another person to contend with. She comes by every Wednesday to clean and you’re not sure how thorough she is. A thought occurs to you that she might be someone paid by the members to keep an eye on you. You thud your head against the fridge. Ugh, your brain wants to explode and you kinda wanna cry.

You plop yourself down on your couch and start dramatically singing, “All by myself; don’t wanna be, all by myself, anymore!” You almost fling the drive when you whip your arms back dramatically in the throes of your ballad. That could have been disastrous. You tuck it into your bra and rub your hand where it impacted the wall behind you. Petulantly, you smack the wall for hurting you, rattling the frames hanging on it.

Huh. There’s a shock of yellow behind one of the frames on the wall and you immediately know what it is.

Since the first couple of nights here in Seoul, you haven’t seen any sticky notes around the members’ condo and you don’t know why they stopped putting them up. Granted, you’ve been sleeping here in the apartment, so you don’t know why the thought hadn’t occurred to you that there would be notes here too, especially if the threat of a memory reset is real. You lift the frame.

“Are you sure you’re ready?”

You begin taking all the frames down, increasing in frenzy.

“Are you sure?”

“Are you sure you’re ready?”

“Are you sure you want to know?”

“You have to be sure; it’ll hurt.”

“Are you sure?”

“Really sure?”

“You have to be sure you really want to know.”

“It’s gonna hurt you.”

“You’re gonna hurt them.”

“You have to be sure.”

You’re staring at the crazy spattering of yellow paper on your living room wall and a laugh bubbles out of you. You laugh and giggle and you feel like you’re being torn out of your skin, like you can’t contain this delayed shock and fear. And maybe it isn’t so much delayed as simply a realization that this has been a consistent state you’ve been in and you’ve just been practicing, what was it Jungkook called it? Apathy for survival? You’ve felt plenty of emotions in the past couple of weeks, but it seems you’ve suppressed more than you thought. And so you laugh. You giggle. You cry. You’re losing it in the face of what seems to be one big conspiracy.

The tears and hiccups eventually stop. Strangely enough, you feel like a weight has been lifted off your chest as something else settles in.

Acceptance.

You are in Seoul, Korea. You are involved in the lives of seven men. You are alone, but alive.

That last point is kind of liberating. You’re alive. You suddenly imagine yourself just walking out of your apartment to meander down the street and just…keep going. Not looking back and just seeing where your steps take you. You could leave and wander around the continents. Leave behind the confusion and the doubts. Leave the boys. Find another vibrant city, a quiet place in the country, or a tucked corner in a forest or mountain side to live in.

You entertain the idea for a solid minute, but…

Something is anchoring you here. A gravitational pull. Something that you need before you can just pick up and go and it’s something closely tied to the boys. Something closely tied to Jin. And you want it so much that you could die. You’re not even sure what ‘it’ even is.

If the sticky notes are to be believed, whatever ‘it’ is will hurt. It’ll hurt everyone.

Crazy enough, there’s a small part of you that sees that the boys may have a valid point. Maybe your search for the truth is reckless. Would this count as self-harm? Knowing it’ll hurt, but doing it anyway? It’s like a scab that you can’t resist picking at, even as it stings and aches, until blood seeps anew. Or like getting stabbed and impaled and your brain logically knows you should leave the knife in, but everything else in you is screaming at you to pull it out even if you exsanguinate.

You are incapable of doing nothing even as the matrix of this world tries to lull you into blindly living out a fantasy. You can’t ignore the glitch. The deja vu. The one frayed thread with its siren call to pull, pull, pull until everything unravels.

So maybe you’re not sure. And maybe you’re not ready.

But you have to know.

There is one frame you haven’t touched. It’s a tabletop frame on the side table. It’s the only one of its kind in your entire apartment. You pick it up and park yourself on the floor, tracing the faces.

Jimin’s smiling face takes up the bottom left corner of the photo in an attempt to include himself in a group selfie, the brightness of the flash whitewashing his normally honey toned skin. He has a facemask on, but his scrunched closed eyes are unmistakably smiling in contrast to the idol smolder of the top half of his cardboard cutout face. Tae and Jungkook, also facemasked, have crazed eyes as they theatrically and maniacally curb stomp and choke slam their cardboard cutouts, an employee in a red vest mid-yell rushing in to stop them. And in the midst of all this havoc, you and Jin are in front of a movie theater, the bright bulbs of the marquee painting you both in warm yellows, raw whites, and inky reds. Your arms are around his waist and he’s putting a pair of glasses on your face, both with mouths wide in a laughter you can almost hear the distant echoes of.

“I love you too, Jin. But I dropped my glasses back there. Let’s grab em before someone stomps on them.”

It isn’t a revelation. More like an ‘Oh. That’s right.’ feeling. Something so ingrained in you that it has become a habit, like when you’re at an ATM and you forget your pin because you were trying too hard to remember, jamming in all these combinations of birthdays and dates of significance until you realize you had it right the first time, but you had accidentally hit one wrong number or the computer hadn’t registered one of the buttons you pushed.

Jin loves you.

You barely register that you’re not alone in this room anymore. You should probably be concerned that someone just walked right in and you didn’t even know until just this moment, but your fight or flight reflexes have always been skewed. Tae and Jimin are reorganizing the pile of frames and placing them back on the walls. They’re very specific about which photo goes where and you can’t decipher the formula of significance as every photo goes back to exactly where they were before. The spaces where photos were missing from before are purposely skipped over. When Tae and Jimin finish, they sit beside you on the floor and gaze upon the fruits of their labor.

“You know where each of the photos belong,” you state.

Jimin hums. “You said it made you feel less lonely when we were on tour. They’re important to you, so they’re important to us.”

Tae gestures to the scatter of frames to the left. “Those first few photos are yours. A lot of you and me, and me and you, cuz’ duh, I’m awesome. I’m your most favorite person. Well okay so I’ve been demoted to like third most favorite, but still awesome, and then some photos with everyone else. And the rest—” he encompasses the entire collection in a wide armed sweep. “—the rest are gifts from us and Jieun-noona for your birthdays and christmas.”

“But we stopped getting them for you after…” Jimin says, hesitating.

After you lost your memory. Yeah. If they gifted you now with photos you don’t remember being in, it would be unpleasantly trippy. You count five empty spots. That’s two birthdays and two christmases and something extra? Glancing down at the frame in your hand, you begin to have some inkling.

“So, I’m missing Jin’s gifts,” you say.

Jimin looks to Tae for help, but Tae is already nonchalantly confirming, “Yup. Those two spots and the other two spots are his. That veeeeery conspicuous super obvious empty spot in the center though has never had a photo.”

Jimin’s face twitches, conflicted with all this information giving, but still informs you, “You said you’d put one up there after you got better.”

Studying the wall again, what was once an arbitrary collage of mismatched frames slowly comes into focus as a spiral leading to the prominently empty center.

“Do you know what photo I wanted to put up?”

“Specifically? Indubitably? Unquestionably? Nope. But I have a good idea what it might be.”

You accept the answer even though you are disappointed. Jimin leans in to hug you.

“If it's what we think it might be,” Jimin says into your ear. “I don't think it would give you all the answers you think it would.”

You’re stubborn though. You wonder if there had been notes under those photos before they were taken away. You wonder what clues you have been deprived of.

“Did Jin take those gifts down?”

“You took them down,” Jimin says carefully.

“I did?” You wanna smack yourself in the face. You have no idea what would motivate a past version of you to hide them. “Do you know where I put them?”

“Yup!”

You wait for Tae to elaborate, but he doesn’t and now you wanna smack him. Not violently. Just, ugh!

“So can I see them?”

“Well you almost saw them tonight—”

“Tae!”

��—but then your plans got rearranged.”

“Tae.”

“Jiminie, we talked about this.”

Jimin sighs, but he resigns himself to Tae just doing what he wants. He kisses your temple and squeezes you. “Sorry.”

His apology is said in a small voice, like he’s offering you an olive branch even though your entire world is flooded. And even if it’s not much, it’s a sign of peace and things that grow, so you squeeze him back hoping he understands your feelings through osmosis.

“So, Areum-unnie has the photos.”

“Yup!”

“I gave them to her?”

“Well, more like you took them with you when you stayed with her,” Jimin explains. “When we were on the Love Yourself Tour, you stayed with her, Jung-hyung, and Byeol.”

That…actually makes sense. Tae had already told you about how they had to leave you behind when you were first injured. Where else would you have gone? Jieun couldn’t go to work and watch you all on her own. Although, you feel a little bad that Areum and Jungie had to watch you while they had a baby to take care of as well.

Well, if Hobi’s mission really is to keep you in the dark, then it would make sense why he absolutely refused to let you go visit them. You’re still confused though why Hobi doesn’t want you remembering things. Wouldn’t it help everyone if you got better as soon as possible? Whatever his reasons, you know he’d be furious if he found these notes on your wall.

“Are you gonna take the sticky notes down?” you ask, warily.

Tae shakes his head. “Nope. Rule of thumb is whoever put them up usually takes them down, but none of us put them up there.”

“How do you know?”

Jimin still has his arms around you, but he shrugs. “Namjoon-hyung created set layouts and protocols for where we put the collection of notes you gave us. We’ve never seen these before.”

“We would definitely remember these,” Tae says. “It’s giving Emily Dickinson. I dig it.”

“What? Emily Dickinson? What are you talking about?” You’re baffled. Tae never ceases to surprise you with the weird turns his mind takes you.

Tae gathers himself up with an expression saying he’s about to school you as he recites, “I see thee better in the Dark. I do not need a Light. The Love of Thee—a Prism be—Excelling Violet.”

He bows to Jimin’s enthusiastic clapping, and you…you feel yourself thaw and even give some claps of your own. Tae is like a magician. You don’t know what he’s going to pull out of his hat. He’ll make you question everything about yourself and the world, but he’ll make you believe in magic and that everything will be alright.

“See! Violet! Borahae! I bet Dickinson would be Army.”

“No, she wouldn’t,” Jimin argues.

“You’re just bitter cuz’ she’d probably be an Agust D stan.”

“Hell no. If she was Army, she’d be a Jhope stan. His music and vibes are misleading from the lyrics.”

“Are you gonna tell the oppas?” you can’t help interjecting, worried.

Jimin gently pries your fingers off the frame you’re holding and puts it on the ground in front of you. You hadn’t even realized how tightly you were gripping it. There are red indents on your palm that he rubs.

Hands occupied, you can’t dodge Tae when he boops your nose. He laughs when you scrunch it in protest.

“We won’t tell the hyungs,” Tae promises.

“We won’t,” Jimin chimes to reassure you.

Still, you have some doubts as to their purpose here which feels too coincidental, especially after the breakfast you had this morning. “Did Hobi-oppa tell you to come check up on me?”

Jimin pulls you up to stand and steadies you. “No. Jungkookie said you might need cuddles.”

That…both surprises you and doesn’t surprise you. Of course, Jungkookie would do that. You feel yourself melt, feeling better now that you know why they’re here. That is until Tae hauls you over his shoulder and makes his way towards your room, complaining, “I’m hungry!”

“But we just passed the kitchen, you weirdo! Put me down!”

“I’m hungry for cuddles!”

He tosses you unceremoniously onto the bed, and before you can recover from the whiplash, you feel two bodies crushing you.

“Get off Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum,” you protest, giggling.

“Tae’s Tweedle Dum! I’m Dee!” Jimin announces.

“Jiminie’s dumb—”

You manage to elbow Tae off you and extract yourself from Jimin, escaping to the bathroom. There’s no way you’re going to bed with a full face of makeup on. Plus, the USB drive is digging into your boob and you can’t sleep with it anywhere near you with Tae and Jimin pressed to your sides. You temporarily place it beneath a stack of towels in the bathroom closet and work quickly to get ready for bed. They’re still arguing by the time you return, Tae on the ground begging Jimin to let him up. He tries to hug your legs as you pass by, but you manage to side step him and climb onto the bed where Jimin gathers you into his arms.

“Truly? Must you cast me aside to the depths of hell without feather to fly? Without even the torture of hope for salvation?”

You scoff, pointing at him self-righteously. “Now look who’s the monster under the bed.”

Tae’s lament transforms to outrage, affronted as Jimin dies of giggles. “What?! Statute of Limitations! Double jeopardy! You can’t punish me when you’ve already punished me! I already said sorry years ago! Years, Y/N! Years!”

“If a tree falls in a forest, and I wasn’t around to hear it while peter piper picked a peck of pickled peppers, how much wood would a woodchuck chuck?” you reason with a straight face as Jimin keels over, falling off the bed.

Tae’s eyes widen in shock and then he’s laughing too. “Touche. Can’t argue with that.”

Jimin can barely breathe, but he manages to choke out, “How does that even make sense?”

“It makes perfect sense, Jiminie. It’s genius.”

You nod your head sagely and don’t even attempt to dodge them when they tackle you back. It’s a mess of limbs and blankets and pillows and hair, but eventually you all find a comfortable position, you laying on Jimin’s chest and Tae managing to encompass both of you in his arms and legs. All is quiet as labored breathing and heartbeats slow, but you don’t feel like sleeping yet. Jimin captures your hand and you peer up at him.

“Can’t sleep?” he asks.

“Not really.”

“How about a dramatic reading from yours truly?” Tae offers.

“Please no more Emily Dickinson,” Jimin begs. You snicker as Tae pouts, but pat his shoulder in commiseration.

You actually have something in mind, but you have no idea if Tae and Jimin will allow it, despite how accommodating they’ve been tonight. The Rules haven’t been broken, but have been well and truly bent and twisted. You’re not sure when you’ll get another opportunity like this though. The worst thing they can do is say no, so you figure it doesn’t hurt to ask.

“Jin told me a story the other night. About his first love.” You can’t see Jimin’s face, tucked in as you are, but you feel him tense. Tae on the other hand smiles softly and runs his hand up and down your back. “Could you maybe tell me about her story? Jimin?”

You feel him jerk in surprise. “Me? You don’t want Tae to tell you the story?”

Thinking back to what you overheard the other night, you have a little more clarity now. Even though the members are determinedly united, there’s a division as to how they want to handle you. Jimin seemed more on your side, and it seems like Tae and Jimin have decided to go rogue. You don’t know how far he's willing to go, but you want to give Jimin a chance.

“Yeah, I’d love to hear your version. Plus, Tae is still on probation for telling tall tales to Jungkookie.”

You feel Jimin squeeze you tighter to his side and Tae’s eyes crinkle in amusement and understanding. He interlaces his hand with yours and you feel Jimin play with your hair. Content, you close your eyes and lean into their comforting touch. You’ve asked and now you wait or fall asleep.

When Jimin starts telling the story though, it isn’t at all how you imagined he’d tell it. There’s an edge of malicious compliance, not towards you, but the Rules. His sweet voice is soft and airy as it weaves an incandescent tale. It feels like all the world holds its breath to make room for his bedtime story.

“She was the girl at the end of the universe. She was never taught how to dream, but learned how to tie her shoes on her own. She was never taught how to build a fire, but she learned how to withstand the cold. She was never taught how to run, but she learned how to take one step forward at a time. She was never taught how to fight, but she learned how to carve out a home where she stood. She built a house and strangely, it didn’t have a door. It wasn’t on purpose. She never had a visitor before, so it didn’t occur to her that she should put one in. Until one day a green boy climbed through her window.

“This boy was strange and scary and something new. He was a boy who spoke a different language than her filled with hands that held and arms that squeezed and smiles that came easily. Slowly, she learned his language, but still, she kept the window open waiting for the day he would go home. She didn’t know though that the boy was actually teaching her how to make a door until she found herself outside.

“The sky was filled with so many stars. The boy pointed to his star. He said he had started building a bridge to her corner of the universe, but got impatient and jumped into her window. She saw his bridge made of green vines that bloomed and twirled and she knew what she wanted to do. She built a bridge of moonlight from her side until it met his in the middle. With this template, she was able to build bridges to other stars who met her half way. It was sad when some bridges crumbled, but she was encouraged when others held strong. Still, she and the boy visited every day until he had to travel further than she’d ever been before to reach a dream of songs.

“There was nothing to worry about though because she started to build a bridge to his new star and he was already working on his end to reach her. This time he had help though. Six more boys with red bricks, black asphalt, blue stone, yellow timber, violet iron, and pink gems. As time went by, the bridge began to branch off in different stages of completion through no one’s fault. That’s just how life is. Life throws curveballs and sometimes gives you unexpected things.

“And this girl started finding many unexpected things. She found fuschia gifts flown to her on paper planes. Bubblegum stories that floated and bobbed to her. Blushing songs that sang her to sleep. She found a cherry blossom love that fell like snow, creating a flower path to a pink boy.

“The pink boy also found unexpected things. He found all his shoes tied with neat bows. A warmth no fire could hold a candle to. Footprints that led down sheltered paths when the currents around him threatened to bowl him over. He found a girl at the end of the universe with a love carefully crafted with her own bare hands. They built a new home together on their bridge, and with their carefully crafted cherry blossom love, they created a new star.

“But they forgot that life throws curveballs. The girl woke up one day to find her door broken and her window boarded up, trapped in her old home. She didn’t remember how she ended up there, but it was dark and she thought she heard muffled voices outside. She peeked slivers of pink, green, red, black, blue, yellow, and violet through the boards and the space beneath her door. The boys could not dare to destroy this sanctuary she built, so they sit and wait. They sit and wait and hope she hears their dream of songs and remembers how to make a door.”

You float down from the microcosmos, as you register the hand still carding your hair and the other hand holding yours. Silent tears are streaming down your cheeks and you stutter on an inhale like it's your very first breath drawn. When you open your eyes, Tae smiles and lightly taps your chin.

“I’m trying,” you whisper, voice hoarse with your tears.

“We know,” Jimin says kindly.

Tae squeezes you both. “Just do what you have to do.”

“Even if it hurts?”

“Even if it hurts.”

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