#dont go up to a random ajussi and ask for origami

[jafndaegur]

Paper Wings

Jumin x MC

This is a sequel to The Chains that Bind Us.

...whenever I start to want... to do bad things to me... I fold a paper crane for every thing I want to do to myself, and sew them onto a thread to hang where I can see them.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

The door creaked open just a teensy bit as Jumin peeked into the room. Darkness shrouded the normally well lit study, and other than a sliver of light that winked dimly from the crack between the pulled curtains - there was no other source for him to see. But from the silhouette of MC, her back turned from him and her head bowed, Jumin supposed that she wasn't feeling well today either. It'd been a week since he had first found her on the ground, mid panic attack. From then on he noticed that whatever it was she was fighting in her head, it was only getting worse. His lip trembled just for a moment before he clenched his jaw and forced out a tight exhale. He regained his composure and he stepped into the room without much noise. His socks padded almost silently against the carpet. And yet when he crouched down beside his wife and gently ran his fingertips along her forearm, she hardly reacted.

First, she gave an owlish blink - lashes brushing over the dark rings of circles underneath her eyes. She didn't smile. Her right hand rested lightly upon his, but she refused to look at him.

Jumin's heart clenched.

"Would you like to go out?" He tried, giving her fingers a gentle squeeze. "The weather is pleasant, and it may even rain later in the evening. I know how you love a good storm."

She shook her head. "I don't feel so good Jumin, not today...I'm sorry."

"Of course, dearest." His vision blurred, and he cracked a soft smile despite the growing chill and wetness at the corners of his eyes. "Just rest. I'd like for you to feel better."

No response came, and she rested her head back against the chair she had curled up in. Humming softly, Jumin stood and left, closing the door behind him.

He wandered around the penthouse for a little, trying to clear his mind. One of their plants wasn't facing the sun. He turned it around. The stool at the kitchen bar was sticking out. He pushed it in an inch. On the couch one of the pillows were misplaced. He moved it from the middle cushion to the right end. A blanket was folded wrong. There was a smudge on the window. A shoe had left a floor scuff mark. His sleeve wasnt pulled down all the way. One of the hall picture-frames were crooked. Bed unmade. Bathroom untidy. Seat. Front door. Kitchen. Study. Hallway. Floor. Couch...

He reached out to steady himself, and stopped.

A quiet mew drew his attention and he looked down to see Elizabeth the Third gazing up at him. Her big blue eyes widened and she wound herself around his legs, her tail flickering. Jumin sunk to the floor, and gathered her up into his arms, holding her against his shoulder as he buried his face into the soft fur close to her belly. A sob muffled against her fluffy pelt.

He couldn't fix this.

This was something even the great Jumin Han could not fix. With all of his money and his power, this was beyond his capabilities. Beyond his influence. Because no matter how much he wanted to fix his wife's pain, the only one who could do that was her. He could never force her. Never before and never again.

His breath rattled in his chest, and he bit back another sob.

Elizabeth kneaded her paws against his chest.

There was nothing for him to do. He gazed out dully, looking at the window and the city past it, that despite the warm afternoon light and the speckles of fluffy gray clouds on the horizon, he could only see gloom. There was no way to fix this. No way for him. He could only wish-

Wish.

He could only wish.

Scratching the back of Elizabeth's head, he set her down quickly. Stumbling to stand up, Jumin searched for his jacket before finding it and haphazardly tugging it on.

A hesistant glance was cast back toward the direction of the study. He felt the faint tendrils of a thread coiling around his throat. But before the string could tie itself any tighter, he took a deep breath, unwound the thread, and placed it in his pocket for another day, another time. MC needed him. And even though right now, she spoke with cotton in her mouth - all hidden and suffocated words - he heard her.

Ignoring the startled calls of his security guards at the front, Jumin quickly made his way out to the front where Driver Kim was on standby. The chauffeur started a bit at his boss' sudden appearance, but recovered quickly.

"Is there a crafts store, nearby?" Jumin huffed, sitting down in the back of the car.

Driver Kim slid into the front seat and started the vehicle. "Craft? As in a craftsman?"

"No, no. As in arts and crafts."

There was silence before the driver pulled away from the front and drove down a few blocks. A little store, like a daisy among roses, sat comfortably between all the other much larger office buildings. Jumin definitely would have defined it as quaint, but he hopped out of the vehicle and told Drive Kim he would call him momentarily. The old man gave him a confused look but nodded and went to find a spot to park.

Walking into the store, someone greeted him while a little bell signaled his entry. He gave a slight nod and began his search. It'd been a long time since he had ever made any, but he was sure all he needed was pretty paper.

Jumin finally found himself in an isle of  packages full of precut colorful paper squares. A small waver of anxiousness filled his stomach. He hadn't realized there were so many types. There were even packages of thin strips of paper, hardly an inch wide. Did oragami really get that small? He reached out to grab one of the packets full of the strips when he felt a tug at the hem of his jacket.

Surprised he found a little girl holding onto him. Every muscle stiffened. Why was there a child? His eyes widened as he started to observe her more. She was shockingly little, and thin. Her nose was plugged with a breathing tube, while her free hand toted a little dolly with a canister attached. The child had decorated it with stickers and a cute keychain of a kitten.

His stomach felt sick.

"Mister, you make stars?" She asked, pointing to the paper.

"Stars?" He echoed. "These aren't for cranes?"

She shook her head, face serious. Turning to the rows of paper, she searched until she found a packet full of square sheets decorated with plumes of flora. She proffered it to him.

"I'll trade you, Mister," she looked at the package in his hand. "I'm allowed to keep jars of stars in my room. Just not cranes."

"Such a trade benefits the both of us..." he crouched down in front of her and offered her his own paper. "Do you know how to fold paper cranes?"

The little girl's eyes widened. "Do you not know?"

Jumin chuckled. "It's been a very long time since I last made any. I'm afraid I don't remember how."

"My mom is sitting on the bench outside." The little girl bit her lip nervously. "Do you want me to show you?"

"If your mother agrees," Jumin hummed. "What is your name?"

"Jati."

"Well Jati," he held out his hand, "as thanks, allow me to buy your paper."

She nodded eagerly, allowing him to lead her along.

In the back of his head Jumin knew he really should not just bargain with random little children, but the situation seemed just too coincidental to not mean something. He may not have been a practicing Christian anymore, but that didn't mean he'd  refrained from the belief in divine intervention or fates' blessing. Perhaps that's what this was for both him and little Jati.

They walked out of the store chatting and still hand and hand until he caught sight of the mother, who immediately locked a death stare with him. At least until he guessed recognition set in. Because she went from fury, to anger, to shock, to mortification well within ten seconds.

"Jati," she scolded, standing up from her seat.

"This is Jumin," her daughter chirped, taking a seat in front of the bench after arranging her dolly to her preference. "He wants to know how to fold cranes! Mrs. Jumin doesn't feel so good, so he wants to make some for her to feel better."

The mother glanced at Jumin before she sighed and waved them off. "She gets cold easily, so you have less than ten minutes."

He gave her a gracious tilt of his head before kneeling down at the bench. Opening the packet of paper, he let the little girl choose her sheet before he selected his own. In no time at all, Jati walked him eagerly through each step, constantly looking up at him with a bright glance whenever he dutifully followed her lead. From the corner of his eye, Jumin noticed Jati's mother smiling wistfully, and he wonder just exactly who this small child created her stairway of wishes for - herself or someone else.

"It looks very nice, Mr. Han," Jati's mother said, handing her phone to her child. The little girl had wanted to take a picture of the two cranes together.

"It's not half bad," he agreed, before humming softly. "If you dont mind my inquiry...why isn't she allowed..."

"They don't want her hanging them from the ceiling," the mother murmured, watching with a sad gaze as her daughter fussed over the positions of the birds. "Her room at home is full of them though. Jati says she wants two wishes. That's why she folds the stars - she can keep those when she stays over at the hospital - and then the cranes."

"Is she there often?" Jumin wondered, hadn't meant to ask that out loud.

The mother hefted her purse a little higher. "If you don't mind me prying, I'd like to think we'd hear on the news about your wife being sick...how long has it been?"

"It's not anything that a normal hospital could fix, I think," he said, crossing his arms over his chest. He wasn't offended, he'd snooped into her personal life - she had every right to snoop back. "If she gets help, she can make it better. But only she can."

Jumin paused and watched with a faint sense of endearment as Jati skipped back to return the phone.

"But I can always wish for the best for her," he hummed, gesturing to the cranes in the child's hands, "and help her along the way."

"Mister." Jati held out his crane, "here."

"I'd like you to have my first crane." Jumin smiled and pulled out his phone to text Driver Kim. "I hope it brings you closer to your wish."

The mother's face melted into something pained and gentle.

"Thank you!" Jati beamed.

Jumin dug into his pant's pockets before he found his wallet again. Fishing out a business card, he handed it to Jati's mother before he went to search for his chauffeur.

"Please reach out to me," Jumin gave a weak quirk of his lips. "If she needs a wish. She certainly aided me on my way to mine."

The mother bowed and thanked him with choked words.

The ride home for him was one he looked forward to. And even though when he entered the penthouse, and only Elizabeth greeted him, he was okay. Jumin searched around for a couple of candles, and he made a pot of tea - despite in normal circumstances he would have gone for a bottle of wine. He set their living room coffee-table with the paper and lights and hot drinks before wandering to the study.

Inhaling deeply, he entered without reserve. MC was as he'd left her, and even when she didn't look at him as he gently took her hand in his - he was okay.

"My love," he whispered, gently tugging on her arm. "Come with me for a moment."

MC blinked, gazed at him, before slowly unfurling from her curled position on the couch. She unfolded like a crumpled up paper in his hands, stretching out and lengthening as she stood to her full height. Jumin smiled and helped lead her to the living room. He would refold her, careful with every crease and every tuck - he would give her the paper wings she needed to fly away on her own.