Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The Walkman opened its case after Yoongi pressed against the button, presenting the little cassette that had just reached its end. He turned it around to listen to the B-side of the album he had recently bought before leaving Daegu behind for an unknown time. The music starts playing again as his eyes wandered through the dirty window of the bus to the landscape outside. The mountains were comfortably tucked in with a green blanket while the rice fields at the bottom of the hills reflected the washed-out sky where only the sun had been allowed to present itself today. The summer had creeped into the bus long time ago, cloaking its few passengers with the stuffy heat. Yoongi counted three heads since their last stop in Geochang around an hour ago – the driver being one of them, leaving only Yoongi and another guy in the basket. It would be too awkward to turn around and see who was joining his ride to this unknown place in the middle of nowhere. Instead, he pushed his glasses up his sweaty nose and focused on the voice that was singing into his ears, distracting him from the anxious thought of the unknown.

Cheonsa was a tiny village in a valley between mountains and forests. He had never heard of this place before but his doctor spoke highly of this village as it was one of the best health resorts he could think of. Yoongi had just shrugged with his shoulders. Taking a cure at his age, not even thirty, seemed ridiculous, but he had to admit reaching his breaking point with his physical and mental health going down quicker than the liquor down a drunkard’s throat. He needed a break from his work, the city and his habits he should’ve never continued. A restart, as his doctor had called it. Not even a week later, he got accepted at the resort and booked his bus ticket, only to contemplate if he arrived before melting into a puddle of burn-out-mush.

The bus opened its doors a few minutes later and Yoongi carried himself and his luggage out of the driving microwave. He couldn’t even take a look around when something pushed him to the side.

“Sorry!”

The headphones slipped from his ears and down his neck as Yoongi stumbled around before he found purchase on the cobblestone.

“Hey!” Yoongi shouted and watched the young guy running away. He was only loaded with a sling bag, clearly not a tourist or patient of this place. Yoongi was sure he was younger than him as well so he didn’t think about apologising if their paths crossed again later. Instead, he huffed and shouldered his backpack before pulling his luggage away from the bus stop. The resort centre shouldn’t be that far, Yoongi thought as he looked around. The main road meandered through the valley and guided him to a small bridge to pass a pattering stream. The wooden railing was decorated with vines and flower pots. A sign at the other end bid him welcome.

Cheonsa, a place to heal your body, heart and soul, followed by protected by the Spirits of the mountains, rivers and forests.

Yoongi raised his eyebrows, hoping that this place wasn’t about this weird cult that had grown over the past few years in South Korea. He wasn’t a spiritual or religious person and with technology entering people’s life more and more the closer they got to the turn of the millennium. Plus, Spirits were known to be extinct since the war, if you believed in them in the first place that was to say. Yoongi was more on the rational and logical side. His parents had even bought a computer with a colour screen last year, not to mention the music industry thriving right now, giving Yoongi both more possibilities and pressure in his job. Albeit all these new and exciting things, he needed a break and hopefully this village would help him finding some peace.

The wheels of his suitcase announced the arrival of a new face at a place where anonymity didn’t seem to exist, by rattling on the pavement, hiccupping every so often when Yoongi pulled it over a pothole. The houses brought him back to the end of the Joseon Dynasty, the breeze playing with the wind chimes, greeting the newcomer kindly. He spotted a village store with fresh vegetables and fruits displayed at the entrance and a tiny post office with a piece of paper taped against the paper.

Closed until 2 o’clock.

Yoongi looked at his watch, but his stomach already gave him away that it was around noon. The resort centre was indeed an all-inclusive hotel, but hopefully it wouldn’t take long to satisfy his body with a proper lunch. He continued his way around the village, passing a couple of residences, when he spotted the main road branching off in two directions. While one way reached for the hill, the other continued its way through the valley. Yoongi halted and looked around. A small moped caught his attention, leading his eyes to a house with two big windows hugging the open door and a single word largely displayed on the panes.

“A café?” Yoongi mumbled. Maybe he could ask the owner for directions and get himself a nice iced coffee to safe him from this heat outside. Carefully, he walked towards the entrance, hefting his suitcase over the few wooden steps before entering the café. It was more modern than the other buildings in this village, but the vintage look of the fifties and sixties were still clearly displayed by the posters and records hanging on the wall and Jazz music filling the air.

“You?” Yoongi frowned. His rude bus-buddy was sitting a few metres away on a chair, attention directed to another young man sitting next to him. His head whipped round when he heard Yoongi’s voice, eyes turning wide.

“Oh god!” The guy stood up, voice high and head low. “I’m so sorry about earlier!” he added and did a deep bow, stumbling a bit. Yoongi opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted by the other guy who wrapped an arm around his friend.

“Careful, Jimin-ah.” His voice was much deeper and full of worry and compassion that Yoongi felt bad about reacting so sensitive at the bus stop. The heat had to have strained his patience. He could see that the guy named Jimin wasn’t feeling well, face pale, legs wobbly. He was pulled back on the chair to sit down.

“Eh …” Yoongi cleared his throat, but the awkwardness was still stuck inside of him. “It’s fine. Never mind. Nothing happened.” He looked around, eyes meeting everything but the faces of the two boys. Great, he thought sarcastically. He would never be able to visit the café again during his stay at the resort, which was a pity considering the nice ambience and faint smell of freshly ground coffee beans.

“If you like our interior decoration, wait until you see my pretty face,” another voice suddenly said before it erupted with an amused laughter. Yoongi turned around to face the counter. An indeed pretty young man, around his age, was standing there with a kitchen towel thrown over his left shoulder. He grabbed the menu card and gave it to Yoongi.

“Choose a drink. It’s on the house,” the man said and looked over to Jimin and the other guy. “How’s your knee, Taehyung-ah?”

“All good, hyung!” Taehyung grinned brightly and stood up to emphasise his statement.

“Why?” Yoongi asked as he was holding the menu. Owned by the Kim brothers Kim Seokjin and Kim Taehyung since 1987, was written under the café’s name, revealing that it had been opened just a few years ago.

“A welcome present,” the man, presumably Seokjin, responded. “Did the boys cause any trouble? I heard Jimin apologising to you when I was in the kitchen.”

“Ah … no. It’s fine.”

“I was so worried about Taehyung that I didn’t pay attention to my surroundings when I left the bus,” Jimin interjected, eyes staring on the wooden planks. “I ran into him and nearly knocked him down …”

“You ran?” Seokjin raised his eyebrows. “We’ve talked about this, Jimin-ah. And then you thought taking care of Taehyung would-”

“Hyung,” his brother stopped him. Yoongi frowned as he watched the silent conversation that followed. Seokjin cleared his throat and his smile returned on his lips.

“Sorry for the chaos. Jimin’s not feeling well so he should rest,” he explained before pointing at the menu in Yoongi’s hand. “Want a coffee?”

“Huh? Ah, iced coffee, please. Black.”

“Alrighty.”

While Seokjin was busy preparing the drink, Yoongi turned his attention back to Jimin and Taehyung. He should solve this issue now before his anxiety wouldn’t let him do it later. The old planks whined a bit as he stepped forward.

“Hey,” he began, “you really don’t have to feel sorry. I accept the apology.”

“Really?” Relief sparked in Jimin’s eyes. “Thank you.”

“His name is Jimin, I’m Taehyung. And the old guy over there is my brother Seokjin.”

“I heard that!”

Yoongi chuckled. The smile on his lips felt unfamiliar, but welcome. All was well. Looked like he would be able to visit this café more often in the future.

“Min Yoongi,” he introduced himself. “29 years old.”

“Oh, you’re just a bit younger than Seokjin-hyung,” Taehyung figured. “Will you stay at the spa hotel?”

“Yes. Would you mind telling me where I can find it? The street outside forks so I wanted to ask for directions.” The faint sound of the coffee machine doing its work lured his attention back to the counter for a quick second. He was surprised to find Seokjin on the phone, his fingers playing with the spiral cord while he looked outside the window.

“The hotel is located at the foot of the west hill. You just need to follow the left road. When you see the sport area, just follow the fence along the road. The resort is on the same side,” Jimin explained. Yoongi nodded and heard the handset landing back on the rotary phone.

Taehyung leaned to the side to make eye contact with his brother. “He’s probably outside, hyung.”

“Would be a miracle if he ever picks up a call.” The followed huff with amusement debilitated Seokjin’s statement. He turned around and finished up Yoongi’s coffee by adding the ice cubes into a plastic cup, luring the newcomer back to the counter. “Takeaway, right?”

“Yes, please.”                                                                                                                    

“There you go.” Seokjin poured the coffee into the cup and closed it with a lid. “I hope you’ll visit us again during your stay, Yoongi-ssi.” He winked at him in a playful manner. Yoongi could see why people would like him. His confidence wasn’t conceited but easing the mood, something Yoongi had never seen before. In his industry, it felt like people were either overbearing or social introverts like him.

“Thank you.” Yoongi looked over to Taehyung and Jimin, nodding a goodbye. He was about to leave when Seokjin suddenly asked him to wait. “Hm?”

“I’m sorry, but you’re on your way to the hotel, right?”

“Yeah?”

“A friend of us, Jung Hoseok, works there as an occupational therapist. Could you leave a message for him at the reception that tells him that he needs to come to our café?” Seokjin asked.

“Was that the one you tried to call a moment ago?” Yoongi watched him nodding several times on the trot. The cold drink in his hand reminded him of the kind deed of the man. He took a sip. The rich flavour filled his mouth, just as bitter as he liked it. He looked up, looking into Seokjin’s eyes properly for the first time. The unfamiliar smile returned on his lips all by itself. “Sure. I’ll let him know.”

The spa hotel was a surprisingly modern building with a traditional touch. A Korean garden framed the front side, split by a wooden bridge that lead Yoongi slightly upwards to the entrance. Under the bridge and around, he could see several flowers and trees surrounded by white gravel. The door opened automatically as soon as he carried his suitcase over the last step. His iced coffee was already gone during his walk towards the hill, thirst too strong and weather too hot for any patience able to survive.

The hotel was neither luxurious nor pretentious despite the formidable façade, in fact, it reminded Yoongi more of a ski resort hotel that he had visited with his family during his childhood. Light and ginger wood dominated the ambience. While the light flooded the lobby with warmth, pleasant temperature met Yoongi’s skin that shivered for a quick moment after being out in the heat for so long.

He walked to the counter where a middle-aged woman smiled up to him.

“Welcome to Cheonsa,” she said and Yoongi did a quick bow to greet her back. “You must be Min Yoongi, am I correct?”

“Yes, that’s right.” Yoongi fished out his wallet and showed her his ID and the acceptance letter of the hotel. The woman smiled and checked his documents before typing something into the chunky computer in front of her. Yoongi looked behind her and spotted a bunch of tiny hooks, not more than twenty. About half of them were occupied with a key.

“All right. Thank you for waiting,” the woman said again. “Your room is already cleaned up and ready for you.” She turned around and grabbed one of the keys. A small name plate with the number 7 was attached to the key ring.

“The guest rooms are upstairs. Just follow this hallway. The elevator and stairs are on the left. You can find the dining room and entertainment area on this floor. The gym, pool and spa area is downstairs. If you have any questions, you can always call us with the telephone in your room or come to the reception.”

“Thank you very much,” he replied and received his room key. “Ah, before I forget.” He pulled a note out of his pocket. Seokjin was so kind to write the message for his friend named Hoseok down. “I visited the local café and the owner Kim Seokjin asked me to leave this message for a man called Jung Hoseok. It seems to be quite urgent.” He gave her the note.

“Oh, of course!” She smiled. “Since we’re a small village, we all know our neighbours quite well. Kim Seokjin often helps us preparing pastries and coffee for our guests. I will convey his message right away.”

“Thank you.” Yoongi did another bow before heading towards the elevator. His body was absolutely ready for lunch and a nap. He could find out more about this hotel and the village later.

It didn’t take him long to find the right door. He got rid of his shoes when he entered the room. The slightly ajar sliding door to his right revealed the bathroom. He walked through the small hallway and was greeted by a rather spacious bedroom. The big bed was aligned with a commode and wardrobe. Next to the window was a simple desk. The highlight however was the broad inner windowsill that left at least half a metre between the pane and the room, padded with three pillows. In one of the walls was a square hole with a small plank on the bottom, creating a built-in storage place for a book or a nice warm cup of coffee.

“God, why am I crying?” Yoongi muttered as he felt his eyes sting. It felt so surreal to be here and not at home, not at work. He didn’t go on vacation since he finished university and he never travelled alone. And now here he was, crying over a potential coffee cup place at the window.

He took a deep breath. First things first, he needed to unpack.

After filling the wardrobe with his clothes and giving the bathroom a personal touch with his shampoo, toothbrush and skin products, he made himself comfortable on the window board with his cassette player. He closed his eyes as his thumb pressed play. Music was filling his mind again, letting it rest for a while. When the tape reached its end and brought him back to the present, he looked outside and found the sun hidden by big dark clouds. Right after Yoongi turned the cassette, the first rain drops landed on the glass next to his head. He couldn’t hear the pattering with his head phones keeping his ears busy with the melody playing. He frowned, not remembering any rain or thunderstorms being announced this week, but on the other hand, the Korean summer was often unpredictable so he decided to watch the clouds crying over the village, glad that he was inside his air-conditioned hotel room.

When was the last time he felt so relaxed? He couldn’t remember. All he registered was the music playing until it lured him into a peaceful slumber, away from the rain pouring onto the village.

Yoongi didn’t bother dressing up the next day. A comfortable tee shirt his slim body would drown underneath combined with black slacks was enough for him to get his morning coffee before going outside. Only the puddles on the gravel bedding showed the remaining proof of yesterday’s storm when he left the hotel. His feet brought him towards the sport fields. The mountains rested majestically around the village. Yoongi felt small and unimportant, suppliantly looking up at the crests.

“And humans really think they could form the world at will, huh?” he muttered, remembering his naive young self that was convinced the world was his territory. That was bullshit, he thought. The world was tolerating humans and would patiently wait until they destroyed themselves. Yoongi sighed at the thought. He wanted to relax and heal at this place, not get an existential crisis and think about the meaning of life.

He followed the high fence next to the road. The basketball area caught his attention, but his ears perked up because of the high sound of a whistle resounding with the hills. He spotted a group of people standing in front of a young man one sport field ahead. Yoongi recognised a few of them from today’s breakfast at the hotel. They were much older than him, all at least over fifty, but that didn’t stop them to begin their morning gymnastics with the instructor. Yoongi stopped and watched them for a bit since he had nothing better to do. This was probably the most exciting thing he would see in this valley: elderly doing yoga.

“Hey!” The voice of the sport instructor caught him off-guard and Yoongi’s first instinct was to run. The young man waved at him with a bright smile forming his lips into a thin line.

“Morning,” Yoongi said and watched the man jogging to the fence. “I’m sorry if I’m interrupting the course-”

“Oh no! Don’t worry,” the man interjected. “You must be Min Yoongi, right? The newcomer.”

Yoongi blinked, a bit dumbfounded for a second until he figured that his arrival was probably discussed with the hotel employees. He nodded and the young man introduced himself as Jung Hoseok.

“Oh. You’re friends with the café owners,” Yoongi stated.

“Yep. Thanks for delivering the message. That was very kind of you,” Hoseok said before looking over his shoulder. “Do you want to join today’s morning group? There’s no need for registration since our hotel keeps the amount of guests small. That way, we can take better care of each individual and help them to heal during their stay.”

An awkward laugh slipped out of Yoongi’s mouth. He cleared his throat and shook his head.

“Ah, sorry,” he declined. “I just wanted to watch a bit if that’s allowed. I’m not a big fan of gymnastics.”

“All right. Is there any other sport you’d like to try out?”

Yoongi’s eyes landed on the basketball field, just a quick movement, but Hoseok’s growing smile revealed that he already answered his question without the need of saying a word.

“You can find all types of balls at the sports centre!” Hoseok pointed at the hotel. “Turn left at the reception and walk down the hallway. You’ll find another counter there where you can ask for any sports material. They also offer hiking shoes, swim shorts and much more.” Yoongi could see the pride in Hoseok’s eyes, clearly happy that he got the chance of working at such a wonderful place.

“Thank you, Hoseok-ssi.”

“No problem! You can drop the honorifics. If I remember our briefing correctly from last week, I’m one year younger than you,” Hoseok said.

“Oh. Then eh … hyung’s fine.”

“All right, hyung! I have to go back to my group now. If you have any questions, feel free to ask me. I’m free in the afternoon so far.”

“Ah, thank you …” Yoongi scratched his neck. He hadn’t prepared himself for such a conversation in the morning. This place was the exact opposite from the city. No anonymity. Even though this village was so isolated from the rest of the busy life of South Korea, the people here didn’t seem to be lonely or missing something in their lives. Meanwhile, Yoongi’s apartment in Daegu was one of hundred others and he still had no idea of his neighbour’s first names.

Hoseok walked back to the gymnastics group and blew into his whistle. Yoongi exhaled. The fresh air and morning coffee had charged his batteries enough to continue his walk through the village. It didn’t take him long to find his way back to the fork. The café was open, the old moped now covered by a big tarpaulin. Yoongi was about to enter when an elderly woman was on her way to the door, hands full with a paper bag and her purse.

“Oh, good morning, my dear,” she said with a smile. Yoongi greeted her with a bow and stepped aside. “You must be new here, right?”

“Ah, yeah,” he said. At this point, the whole village knew about him and he wasn’t sure if this was a good or bad thing.

“Welcome to Cheonsa. If you need anything, you can come to my store. It’s the little village shop down the street. I just got fresh strawberries and tangerines from our local farmer.” Her eyes had so much life in them despite her impressive age. She had to be at least over 80 years old, back hunched due to the hard work in the countryside.

“Thank you, ma’am. I will surely visit your store during my stay.”

“Wonderful. Have a wonderful day, young man.”

Yoongi waved goodbye. Why were all of these people so kind and respectful to him? Despite his quite eventful meeting with Jimin at the bus station, he was sure that the boy carried his heart in the right place just like the rest of the village people. With that in mind, he stepped inside the café and was greeted by the smell of coffee beans just like the day before. He was already scared of getting used to this scent on a daily basis. He couldn’t allow himself to get attached to this place or he would just drop into another depression after coming back to Daegu. He liked Daegu, it was the place he grew up, went to school and university. But the warmth of it had faded years ago, leaving only pieces of his childhood lingering in the air so he could breathe some nostalgia on a lucky day.

“Good morning, Yoongi-ssi,” Seokjin said. He was standing behind the counter, his hair hidden under a piece of white cloth so he could work in the kitchen without his bangs falling into his eyes. Taehyung was standing in front of a table, serving a group of three women in their 50s some tea and dasik, traditional Korean cookies. They were invested in their conversation while Taehyung put the tray onto their table to present them their sweet brunch. Yoongi smiled as his eyes met Taehyung’s.

“Oh, hello, hyung!” he exclaimed with a bright smile. “Thank you for coming back.”

“And thank you for delivering my message yesterday,” Seokjin added.

“No big deal,” Yoongi said and took a seat in front of the counter. “I met your friend at the sports fields this morning. He took care of Jimin, right?”

The corners of Seokjin’s lips twitched, head nodding as he said: “Yes. Hoseok-ah is not a doctor, but he knows Jimin’s … condition. With his knowledge, he often helps this boy to get some rest.”

A part of Yoongi was curious about Jimin’s health issue, but he was aware that this private matter was none of his business. He had just arrived here, invading other people’s lives wasn’t part of his plan.

“Coffee?” Seokjin lifted an empty cup.

“Thanks.” Yoongi watched the black liquid getting poured into the cup, steam lasciviously wavering towards Seokjin’s face before the mug was placed in front of Yoongi, coffee now seducing his own nose. Did he have a little obsession with coffee? Probably.

“How was your first night in Cheonsa?” Seokjin asked.

“Good. A bit rainy.” Yoongi gave a short laugh. “Sorry for bringing my classic Daegu weather to your idyllic paradise.”

“Ah, no no!” Seokjin appeased with a chuckle, albeit Yoongi noticed him and Taehyung bandying looks for a quick second. “That happens sometimes.”

“The valley has its own weather,” Taehyung agreed and walked behind the counter after he finished cleaning up the unoccupied tables. “We’re used to it.”

“Is there anything else I should know about this place?”

“If you want to,” Seokjin said and leaned forward, chin placed into his open palms like a flower pot, smirking at him. Yoongi nearly choked on his coffee. This guy really had no chills. “But there’s not much to know, but to explore.”

“Hyung’s right,” Taehyung added and pulled his brother out of Yoongi’s space by the collar.“ Most people you’ll see on the streets are guests of the hotel. Only around forty residents live here. The decisive point of people visiting this place is our nature. With the mountains, the rivers and forests, it’s the best condition for bodies to heal and get some fresh air without worrying over fine dust and pollution.”

“That’s what my doctor told me as well,” Yoongi said. “My skin already saw more sunlight than in the last months.” He wanted to laugh but the frown that suddenly appeared on Seokjin’s face stopped him. Yoongi was so used to making fun of his health as a way of coping with his problems that he didn’t realise how concerning it might sound to strangers.

“Anyway,” he said, trying to cover the awkward moment unsuccessfully, “when the weather stays like this, I might take a walk around here.”

“Good idea. There are several hiking paths. Remember the bridge at the village border?” Taehyung asked and received a nod from Yoongi. “A small trail leads to the forest on the west hills. Some take it in the early morning to watch the sunrise, but it’s still a pretty place during the day.”

“I recommend a lunch bag, though,” Seokjin interjected. “Should I prepare you something so you can have a nice lunch up the hills?”

Yoongi really was not used to this amount of kindness. Having a picnic on top of a hill, surrounded by green with a nice overview of the valley? It sounded straight out of a painting. He could bring a pen and notebook, letting his mind wander around to find new inspiration.

“Hyung?”

“Huh?” Yoongi blinked, looking at Taehyung who couldn’t help himself but smirk.

“You daydreamt.”

“Oh.” Yoongi cleared his throat and took a sip from his coffee, feeling the heat on his cheeks creeping to the tip of his ears. Seokjin laughed.

“Can I take this as a yes?” he asked.

“Ah, eh … yes. Thank you, Seokjin-ssi.”

“Call me hyung.”

Chapter Text

Equipped with a pair of hiking boots and skin covered with sunscreen, Yoongi walked along the lonely path between the rice fields until the edge of the wood appeared in front of his view. The forest reached as far as the hills, coating them like moss the stones by the wayside. He had decided to not bring his Walkman so he could completely focus on the nature around him and not get influenced by any other music than those who lived in his head. And because he got a bit tired of the tape he was listening to during his ride to Cheonsa. He forgot to pack another one for his stay here and now regrets it.

Yoongi followed the path that led him through the undergrowth, passing flowers holding onto rocks and a stream pattering towards the valley. Most of the time, he thought about nothing and let his mind be in the moment, something he could barely manage back home. There always was something that distracted him, reminded him of his responsibilities and duties that were resting on his shoulders. It felt like he couldn’t allow himself to live in the moment when the future was just an unknown patch in the distance. It was his lantern; his light that helped him find his way through the darkness.

The sun reached its highest point at the sky when his feet brought him to the top of one of the smaller hills. There was a glade in front of him with a shrine proudly standing in the light.

“Time to rest,” he mumbled and looked for a place to sit down. A flat stone close to the edge looked inviting. It showed him a wonderful view of the village and the canopy of leaves provided him enough shade to not turn into a skewer within the next hour.

Just him and the forest. No cars in the distance that would honk at each other like a group of barking dogs. No fine dust that would waft over the streets of the city like a fog of war. But also no karaoke bars, restaurants or any other places that would lure young people in to spend their time and money with their friends. The countryside was for old stuffy people. At least that was the common cliché that surrounded people’s mindsets and Yoongi had been one of them. He grew up in the city with a love-hate-relationship, never considering living outside this colourful and busy place.

He unpacked his lunch box and felt his heart getting squeezed for a second. It was a double-decker-box with rice and spicy chicken in the first and vegetables and kimchi in the other. A note was sticking at the lid.

“Enjoy your meal, Yoongi-yah. And greet our little wood sprite,” he read out loud and snorted a bit at the cheesy phrase before grabbing his chopsticks and digging in. He had just taken a few bites, when the gravel began to scrunch behind his back. Cheeks still stuffed with rice and chicken, he turned around and nearly choked.

“Hello.” A boy was standing there like a curious deer, his clothes containing only warm earth tones. Tattoos were covering his right arm in marked contrast to the big eyes that were staring at him. The boy pressed his lips together into a shy smile and waved. “Sorry for interrupting. I could smell the food during my round and thought one of my hyungs was here.”

“Oh,” Yoongi said and managed to finally swallow his food. “No problem. Just didn’t expect somebody to be here.”

“Ah, yeah. I’m the local ranger and take care of the forest. You are the newcomer, right?”

“Yes. Guess my arrival went quite around, huh. You’re friends with Seokjin-hyung and the others?” Yoongi asked, even though he could tell that the young men of Cheonsa are in some kind of group. The boy nodded and got closer, doing a polite bow.

“My name’s Jungkook. I’m twenty-four.” Yoongi raised his eyebrows at that, surprised that their age wasn’t that far away. “And sorry for yesterday’s storm …” Jungkook added silently.

“It’s not that you control the weather. And I enjoyed watching the rain in the evening.”

“Really?” The young man looked at him with such wonder that Yoongi didn’t quite understand.

“Min Yoongi. Nice to meet you.” He looked at his food. “Wanna share? Your hyung prepared quite a lot.”

Jungkook’s eyes began to sparkle before he asked: “Are you sure? I don’t want to bother you.”

“You can tell me a bit about this place in the meantime.” Yoongi moved over. “Take a seat.”

“Thank you, Yoongi-ssi.”

“Casual is fine. No need to be formal.” He gave Jungkook the chopsticks so they could take turns enjoying the meal together. “What made you move to this valley?”

“Huh? Ah … I was born here actually. Jimin-hyung and Namjoon-hyung as well.”

Yoongi hummed. He didn’t meet this Namjoon yet, but he was sure it wouldn’t take long considering the size of this village. “And the others?”

“Seokjin-hyung and Taehyung-hyung wanted to open a café together but it didn’t work out in the city with the rent being way too high. So they decided to look for a health resort since their goal was to make people happy with their food and drinks. And Hoseok-hyung transferred to the hotel since we had a labour shortage,” Jungkook explained, eyes fixed on the landscape in front of them. “All of us work here except Jimin-hyung.”

“Ah, that’s why he was in the same bus with me when I arrived yesterday,” Yoongi guessed out loud.

“He’s a journalist for the local newspaper in Geochang,” Jungkook explained. “It’s the next biggest town.” He pointed at the river that was winding through the valley. “That’s Ji-gang. It starts here and ends in another river in Geochang. The forest here is called Jung-soop and the hills are Nam-yeondeok. I don’t visit other places often to be honest. Geochang is the farthest I’ve ever travelled.”

Yoongi frowned. “Do you want to visit other places? Daegu? Seoul?”

Jungkook hesitated, thinking about a proper answer before eventually saying: “I don’t know. I’m happy here, but I’m also curious what’s out there. But I can’t leave …”

“You can’t?”

“It’s … hard to explain. You’ll eventually understand what I mean, but for now, I can say that this place takes good care of me.” He smiled, his eyes filled with pride and longing.

“But is it the village or the people that makes this place so special for you?” Yoongi asked. “For me, a place is just a vessel. Even the most beautiful forest or the clearest lake could mean nothing if you don’t share it with the people you love. Friends and family is what fills a place with life.” He hoped he would remember those lines later. Maybe he just got a new lyrics.

“You’re wise, hyung,” Jungkook said and leaned back with his arms stretched out behind him. A gloomy expression lingered onto his face for a second as he added: “That’s cool.” Yoongi snorted once again and took a piece of kimchi into his mouth.

“I just think a lot.” With his eyes he followed the trail of the river, spotting the bus that had brought him here the day before just departing. “Does Geochang have a record store?”

“Huh? Uhm … I think so? I can ask Jimin-hyung for you. He’s going to take the bus at 7 tomorrow to go to work. Maybe you can join him. As a journalist, he knows the town like a fish the water,” Jungkook said.

“Oh. Is he feeling alright again?” Yoongi asked.

“Yes. We make sure he rests today.”

“I can tell you’re a great team.”

“We’re family.” Jungkook’s voice was the most confident right now. Yoongi could tell there was not a single doubt in his mind. It was impressive. He felt his chest sting, not sure because he was touched or jealous. Either way, it was weird to feel this strong emotion after such a long time of dullness in his life. It overwhelmed him a bit, but he appreciated the awakening of his heart nonetheless.

“I like you, hyung,” Jungkook suddenly said and stood up, stretching his limbs. “Thanks for sharing your meal with me. I’m happy you’re here.”

Yoongi didn’t know what to say so he just smiled, watching Jungkook continuing his stroll through the woods.

Same bus, same heat. But Yoongi’s ears weren’t covered with the headphones of his Walkman, but were instead listening to Jimin’s words. Yoongi had agreed on joining the other on his way to work to Geochang. The sun was already ruthless with its intensity as soon as it had popped its head over the mountains this morning.

“The record store is in the inner city, not far away from the station,” Jimin explained. Yoongi remembered a bit from the station when he had transferred from train to bus to find his way to the valley. He watched the hills passing by and rice fields dominating the landscape outside.

“Isn’t it annoying to commute such a distance every day?” he asked.

“It takes a little time getting used to it, but I’m not that often in Geochang. I mostly gather my interviews at the beginning of the week and write the articles at home before faxing them to my boss. And I report about Cheonsa as well, you know? Not much about the people but the nature. I like to research about things broaden not only my own, but my readers’ horizon in terms of flora and fauna. Namjoon and Jungkook help me a lot gathering all needed information.”

“Cool. So you’re not a paparazzi but more of a researcher, huh?”

“Yeah, you could say that. I’m not writing about drama, politics or celebrities. That’s not my cup of tea. Our newspaper has a separate weekly magazine about the local society and nature. That’s were my articles get published. It’s thin, only around 10 pages, but that’s enough for the countryside. Sometimes, the resort asks me to write pamphlets as well every now and then.” Jimin looked out of the window, smiling when he spotted a couple of elderly woman harvesting the fields. He waved at them, even though they had their backs turned towards the road.

“Did you ever write about music?” Yoongi asked.

“Music? Um … no, actually.” Jimin looked him in the eyes. “You’re quite interested in music, aren’t you, hyung? Is that the reason why you want to check out the local record store?”

“I’m a composer,” Yoongi announced. “I’m writing songs for many different artists, produce the baselines or record the piano to have some instrumental backbone for my compositions.”

“Woah! That’s hella wicked,” Jimin marvelled. “So I could’ve listened to one of your songs on the radio?”

Yoongi cleared his throat. “Maybe. I don’t know. It’s possible,” he sputtered. “But my music isn’t that mainstream. Not sure if any of them have made it on the radio.”

“That’s still awesome, hyung. Do you sing as well?”

“No. I sometimes rap, but I don’t publish them,” Yoongi said, hoping Jimin wouldn’t demand a sample right here and now. Fortunately, he just heard him hum in interested before they continued their conversation about the local area. Yoongi learnt that Jimin had some connections with music as well. He was a dancer, more casual than competitive, but some trophies had found their home in his room during young life.

“From high school competitions?” Yoongi pressed a bit to keep the conversation going smoothly. Jimin opened his mouth, but something stopped him from answering directly.

“It had been around ten years ago, but not in high school. The competitions around here are smaller. I would need to go to Daegu if I want to participate in one of those big tournaments.”

“What keeps you from it?”

“The valley. I never left this place. It … it hurts to go any further. It’s scary,” Jimin admitted, head now hanging lower with his eyes fixed on the hands on his lap. Yoongi frowned, cursing at himself for putting his foot in it. That wasn’t his intention.

“Well, looks like that would make you the best dancer in this whole area then. Most young people go to the cities to make it big, leaving no talent for their hometowns that can do nothing but cheer in the distance.”

“Yeah.” The soft smile returned on Jimin’s lips. Crisis bettered. “All of us are loyal to Cheonsa. We have … a special bond with this place.”

“I can feel that. It’s refreshing,” Yoongi said, albeit he found it restricting at the same time. He couldn’t shake the feeling off that they were longing for something more. As if they wanted to go and look for it, but weren’t able to do so. Like a thirsty dog chained up next to a river, snout almost touching the surface, but never fully.

“Do you like your home, hyung?”

“Huh?”

“You’re from Daegu, right? How is it there?” Jimin asked.

“It’s … busy. Many people at one place. Many restaurants and shops. High buildings. Homeless people, gangs, crime. The usual.” He noticed that ‘the usual’ wasn’t the best description for someone who had no idea how a town with more than 10 000 people would look like.

“It’s very grey because of the streets and houses. Not much nature around. But you can find everything you need close by. It’s convenient.”

“And do you like it?” Jimin repeated the question.

“It’s … good. Many labels and artists are in Seoul, but Daegu holds some mad talents as well. As a composer, it’s either Seoul or Daegu,” Yoongi explained.

“And as Yoongi?” Jimin followed up, eyes now fixed on him. Yoongi didn’t know how to answer this question. He lived there to work.

“I don’t know. I never thought about it,” he honestly responded with a shoulder shrug. “If people wouldn’t need to work, they wouldn’t live in the city. I’m sure of that.”

“People find work outside the city. Or can you only compose in Daegu?” Jimin almost sounded like a naïve child, either not knowing what those questions did to Yoongi, or exactly knowing what they mean.

“No … I mean … if I had my equipment here, I could do it anywhere, but …” He couldn’t think of a counter argument. He could send the finished tapes by post to the artists and labels.

“We’re almost there,” Jimin interrupted his existential crisis and pointed to the upcoming town sign. Yoongi lifted his head, but the thought of the conversation had found its way into his heart and began to sprout.

Jimin dropped Yoongi off in front of the record store before he had to leave for his meeting at his work place. The shop was small, but Yoongi spotted vinyl stacked over one another and cassettes he had never heard of. Of course, the classic ones were the attention seekers, displayed right in front of the windows to lure in customers. His fingers brushed over the familiar names who normally filled his ears with music, but he wanted to try something new today. Something that would help him relax and inspire him likewise. The cover of a rock band caught his attention, followed by an indie folk artist. He was on his way to the counter when his eyes got stuck on a magazine rack.

A soft cover book of piano pieces presented itself among other music books. Yoongi had stopped playing classical pieces after he got his producer job. There was no time and energy left to play anything else beside his own music. The last time he played such pieces was during his high school years, when he had piano lessons every evening at home.

He grabbed the book and put it into his basket, revealing a different one that had been sitting behind it.

“Our newspaper has a separate weekly magazine about the local society and nature. That’s were my articles get published. It’s thin, only around 10 pages, but that’s enough for the countryside.”

He remembered Jimin’s words. The magazine presented several pictures on the cover, one of a forest path, then a close up of mushrooms covered with morning dew, rice fields and the last one a picture of the town. Would it be awkward to buy it, knowing that Jimin is one of the authors?

“Whatever,” he muttered and took the journal.

With his new belongings in his backpack, he continued to explore the town a bit more to pass the time until he would meet up with Jimin again. The meeting lasted only two hours so Yoongi took his chance to grab some coffee – not as good as Seokjin’s creations – and rest on a bench in front of the river. He took out the magazine and began to read, learning more about the local activities and nature. Geochang was still quite undulating compared to the valley where Cheonsa was located, he figured. He felt old doing that. People his age would meet up with friends and get drunk in the evening while talking about the long passed school years. Not reading about the landscape of a tiny town in the middle of nowhere. Some of his former classmates were even married, a few even expecting their first child. Yoongi felt out of place, music being all he could think of. It was everything he needed. It was his first love.

A little while later, Yoongi was standing in front of the statue Jimin had told him about, hands holding a plastic bag with water and food cuddling with each other inside.

“Hyung!” Jimin quickened his pace once he saw the other, a hand on his sling bag that bounced up and down with every step. “Sorry for the delay. The meeting took a bit longer than expected.”

“No problem. Here.” Yoongi held out the plastic bag. Jimin raised his eyebrows in question but took it nonetheless.

“What’s that?”

“Lunch. Thought you might be hungry as well,” Yoongi said.

“Woah, thanks hyung!” Jimin beamed. “Let’s go over there to eat.”

The two of them made themselves comfortable and enjoyed their meal together.

“Did you find everything?” Jimin asked.

“Yeah. It’s been a while since I really strolled through a record store. Normally, during the last couple of years, I would directly walk to the hip-hop and rap section without paying attention to the other ones.”

“What made you change that habit?”

“I didn’t know the shop. I had to look around to figure out how it was structured so I took a glance at some other genres.” Yoongi looked at his bag. “Maybe a change of scene would not only be good for my health, but my career as well.”

Jimin chuckled. “You’re really a workaholic, always thinking about music.”

“If you love something, you can’t help yourself but thinking about it all the time,” Yoongi responded, watching Jimin’s mouth form into a gentle smile, almost languorous.

“Yeah … that’s true,” he mumbled. “Hey, would you mind if we stop at a gift shop before we head back? I wanna surprise the others with something. It’s been a while.”

“Sure.”

The gift shop was not bigger than a kiosk, postcards and pins making out fifty percent of the shop’s merchandise. Jimin greeted the owner, seemingly familiar with her.

“Long time no see, Jimin-ah,” the old lady said, “and you brought a friend with you?”

“This is Yoongi-hyung. A new resident at the resort,” Jimin explained as Yoongi greeted her with a bow.

“Oh dear, but you’re so young.” She frowned. “When will this country stop pushing these kids so much? Success is not everything in life. Your legs are so thin, my boy. You need to eat well.”

“You’re rambling again,” Jimin giggled.

“Ah, yes, yes,” she laughed. “The same as always? Six ones?”

“Seven.” Jimin looked at Yoongi. “For hyung, too.”

“Oh, of course. How silly of me,” the lady said and walked to one of the shelves behind her. Yoongi decided to just watch instead of asking what those two were talking about. He got the answer anyway when the woman placed seven small bottles of Ginseng on top of the counter.

“Here you go, my boy.”

“Thank you.” Jimin paid and put the bottles into his bag. The last one he gave to Yoongi who felt his heart warming up at the gesture. He thanked Jimin and said goodbye to the old lady, hoping only good things would happened to her in the future. People in the countryside really were different.

“Oh, let’s hurry up a bit. The bus is coming in five minutes.” Jimin looked at his watch and guided them towards a large staircase. “That’s quicker than walking along the road.”

Yoongi shrugged with his shoulders. Would be quite a hike, but as far as he knew, his legs were skinny, but still very much intact. When he reached the middle platform of the stone stairs, he waited for Jimin to catch up. The younger one seemed to struggle a bit more with the ascent than he did.

“You good?” he asked.

“Y-yeah … it’s been a while since I took the stairs,” Jimin panted and continued his way up. Yoongi remembered that Jimin’s condition wasn’t the best since he had to rest for two days after sprinting all the way from the bus station to the café. Asthma maybe? He could only guess, but that didn’t hinder him to keep an eye on Jimin.

They had almost reached the end when Jimin had to pause, face covered in a thin layer of sweat and hands resting on his knees to catch his breath.

“Hey. Do you need a break? You shouldn’t push yourself too hard, Jimin-ah.”

“We’re almost there,” Jimin wheezed. “I don’t want us to wait another two hours. I can’t …” his words got stuck as a coughing fit hit Jimin’s lungs. Yoongi was alarmed and put an arm around him so Jimin wouldn’t fall.

“Hey, hey … that doesn’t sound good. Do you need a doctor?” Yoongi asked, now holding most of Jimin’s weight, which wasn’t that much to begin with.

Jimin however shook his head. “That’s … that’s normal for me …” the coughing finally stopped and he was able to take a deep breath, albeit a bit shakily. “I have a bad condition. Since I was … born. No doctor can help me.”

Yoongi frowned, worried about the other’s health. That would at least explain the reaction of Seokjin and the others and the importance of Hoseok checking on him as soon as possible.

“Let me help you.” Yoongi grabbed the sling bag and put it over his own shoulder. Fortunately, not many steps were left and Yoongi managed to support Jimin enough for them to make it to the upper half of the town. The station was just a few steps along the road.

“There we go.” He put Jimin on the waiting bench and rummaged around his bag until he found his water bottle. “Here. Take a few sips.”

“Thank you, hyung.” Jimin took the water bottle, hand shaking, but he managed to drink a bit to ease his body. “And sorry for making you worry …”

“No need to apologise. I wouldn’t have minded to wait for the next bus, though.”

“It’s more … it’s …” Jimin seemed to struggle to find the right words. “It’s difficult to explain. But I can’t be away from Cheonsa for too long … it hurts.”

Yoongi blinked, not quite understanding the issue. “Okay?” He would keep the questions to himself for now. Jimin was in no condition to be interrogated now and it wasn’t like Jimin owed him any answers. The sound of an engine made his head turn around.

“Look. The bus is coming. Let’s get you inside so you can rest on your way home.”

“Yeah … sounds good.”

Chapter Text

Once being back in Cheonsa, Yoongi made sure that Jimin got home safely. The drive was long enough for him to let the younger one recover to stand on his own feet again, but Yoongi could still see the absence of his slightly tanned skin tone. Jimin was even paler than him right now, which wasn’t very easy to achieve as he got his alabaster tan from hours of sitting in the recording studio or at home.

“Is that your house?” Yoongi asked and pointed at a big traditional house at the boarder of the village. Jimin nodded. “But not alone, right?”

“Nah. Together with Namjoon-hyung and Jungkook,” Jimin explained. “Seokjin-hyung and Taehyung-ah live above the café and Hoseok at the hotel, but we often meet up at our house during the weekend since there’s enough space for us to fit into one room.”

Yoongi chuckled. His own apartment wasn’t even big enough for a proper couch. Well, technically, he would have the space, but where would his keyboard stand then? He knew his priorities.

Jimin fished his keys out of his bag and opened the door.

“Make yourself at home.”

After getting out of their shoes, Yoongi allowed himself to inspect the house’s interior. Many hiking shoes lined up in a row along the wall, photos of the local landscape and the others were displayed around the mirror above the commode. When he followed Jimin into the living room, he spotted shelves full of books and an easel with a finished picture resting against the wood.

“Woah,” Yoongi marvelled as he approached the art. “Did you draw that?” The unknown observer was inside a cave, the ceiling partly open with vines and other green hanging down, cutting the sun beams into thin streaks. Right in the centre stood a deer, fur illuminated by the sun and white dots telling its young age. It had its head up, looking gracefully. Yoongi could see a waterfall in the dark of the cave, the water slightly reflecting the few bits of light it was snatching.

“Jungkook drew it,” Jimin said. “Do you want some water?”

“He’s really talented. It looks gorgeous,” Yoongi mumbled before he turned around. “You should rest, Jimin. The kitchen is across the hallway, right? I get us some water.”

“No, hyung. You’re my guest,” Jimin whined with a pout, but Yoongi was having none of that. He guided Jimin to the couch and gently pressed him into the cushions.

“You said I could make myself at home, didn’t you? So let me be your hyung and keep your bottom on the sofa while I’m getting us some water.”

Jimin’s lips twitched with amusement, barely able to lock the giggle that wanted to get out of his mouth. Instead, he gave Yoongi a nod and grabbed one of the pillows to squish them against his chest.

Yoongi didn’t know how much time had passed since he and Jimin had returned, but he figured it had to be in the afternoon since he heard the lock of the front door clicking, announcing one of the other’s arrival.

“Welcome home, hyung!” Jimin called, ready to jump on his feet. Thankfully, Yoongi was quick to react and wrapped a hand around the other’s arm. Jimin looked fine by now, but his body was still trying to gain its energy back. He stumbled a bit so Yoongi stood up to support him properly.

“Hey, Jimin-ah. How did the meeting go?” An unfamiliar voice said, still in the hallway, busy getting out of his shoes. That had to be Namjoon, Yoongi thought and waited for the second owner to enter the living room. He spotted a tall, muscular man, shoulders broad, but soft edges framing his face. A pair of round glasses slid down from the back of his small nose as he spotted the unexpected guest. “Oh? Hello.”

“Hey,” Yoongi said awkwardly and let go of Jimin, feeling like it wasn’t appropriate to hold him any longer when somebody who shared a much closer relationship with Jimin was here. Jimin took the chance and took the few steps alone into Namjoon’s open arms, knees giving up as they knew he wouldn’t fall. Just as expected, Namjoon caught him, arms wrapping around the much smaller torso. He frowned.

“What happened? Did you have a relapse from last time?”

Jimin had his face buried into Namjoon’s shoulder and shook his head. Namjoon looked up, eyes looking for an answer in Yoongi’s presence.

“We walked around a bit in Geochang,” Yoongi began to explain. “He wanted to catch the next bus so we took a shortcut.”

Namjoon blinked twice before he asked: “Don’t tell me, you took the stairs, Jimin?” The followed silence was everything he needed to hear. He sighed and guided Jimin back to the couch. “When Hoseok-ah hears that you did it again …”

“I’m sorry, hyung.” The pout found its way back to Jimin’s lips, something he was really good at, Yoongi noticed with fondness. “I began to feel uneasy … to be away from Cheonsa.”

Namjoon’s stern look turned into something softer, but it was difficult to see, face barely letting out any emotions. He brushed a few strands away from Jimin’s face and something in Yoongi’s chest contracted. His eyes escaped the view in front of him, feeling like he didn’t belong here.

“You wanted to show Yoongi-hyung the town, right?” he asked.

“He bought me lunch.”

Yoongi blushed. “It’s nothing,” he tried to casually shrug it off, but Namjoon was already standing in front of him, suddenly bowing.

“Thank you for taking care of Jimin.”

“It’s no problem. Really.” His eyes wandered back to Jimin. “Do you need me to inform Hoseok? I would set out for the hotel now since your hyung is back.” He gave Namjoon a polite nod. He really shouldn’t be here anymore. He felt himself liking this place too much.

“You can stay for dinner, if you want to! Jungkook is a good cook!” Jimin tried to persuade him, but Yoongi could feel his social batteries already being in energy-saving-mode. Namjoon thankfully picked up on that and interjected.

“I’m sure Yoongi-hyung wants to rest as well,” he said. “Remember why people visit our village, Jimin-ah.”

“Okay … maybe another time?”

“Sure.” Yoongi didn’t want to make promises he might not be able to fulfil, but he would like to socialise with them during his stay here. But he needed time to warm himself up to all these new experiences and impressions. He wasn’t somebody who was able to take in things all at once. Maybe that was why people sometimes referred to him as a turtle. He took his time and liked his personal shell.

Still, he liked it here. He wanted to have more time to learn about this place, about Jimin and the others. He liked the landscape, the nature, the atmosphere …

How about staying here?

No.

He stopped his own thoughts as he said goodbye to Jimin and Namjoon. Yoongi left the house and walked down the road to find his way back to the crossroad. He couldn’t stay here. This was just a resort to heal. He couldn’t keep his life that simple.

Why not?

Because he wasn’t simple. Neither his mind nor his heart.

He would never fit in. Those people knew each other for years. He would just intrude. No matter how kind they were, he could never make up the time he missed. He saw how Jimin’s eyes lit up as Namjoon arrived at home. Nobody would look at him like that. He was just a new guest here, something interesting, something new. As soon as he went back to Daegu, they would forget him and move on.

“Hyung!”

His head jumped upwards, no longer watching his shoes stepping on the asphalt as he moved forward. Jungkook was jogging up to him, a bright smile plastered onto his face. He wished time to slow down, bathing in the moment a little bit longer. It hurt to see this expression. Jungkook’s smile faded as he got closer, the sparkle in his eyes dying out, marking the end of Yoongi’s happy moment.

“Everything okay, hyung? Did something happen at Geochang?” he asked, the sharp shadows disappearing on his face as thick clouds decided to block the sun. Wasn’t it supposed to be a cloudless sky today?

“Yeah … I mean …” He explained what happened and Jungkook’s frown deepened, worry more and more prominent within his features. The first rain drops fell when he finished his story. “Sorry. Really. I should’ve reacted sooner. I knew he wasn’t in a good condition because you told me about it. That was careless of me.”

“You took him home, right? That’s why you’re coming from our house.”

“Yeah. I wanted to make sure he got back sa-” Yoongi couldn’t finish his sentence, body suddenly squished in-between strong arms that had wrapped themselves around his torso.

“Thank you, hyung,” Jungkook tightened his grip a little. “I’m sorry …”

“Why’re you apologising?”

The rain began to shadow the roads and rooves as the sky had surrendered completely to the sudden blankets of clouds. It was coming down in torrents the longer they hugged. He felt Jungkook shaking.

“Hey? You okay?” Somehow, the question just made it worse. Jungkook sobbed and grabbed him tighter. Yoongi began to feel uncomfortable. He was caged, wet and socially exhausted from the day. He really wanted to be alone right now.

“Jungkook-ah,” he tried again. “It’s okay. Can you … can you please let me go?” Nothing happened. His hands were getting clammy, his heartrate picked up. “Let me go.” His fingers buried themselves into Jungkook’s shirt, trying to pull the other away. “Jungkook-ah.” His voice got louder, the rain stronger. He could hear thunder growling in the distance.

He snapped.

“Let go of me!” he screamed, immediately regretting his tone, but it did its job. Jungkook jerked, lighting illuminating the tempest. His big eyes stared at Yoongi who could finally take a breath. He didn’t know why Jungkook reacted like this, why he was looking at him like this, but he couldn’t stand it. It was too much for him. Everything felt too much.

“I’m sorr-”

“Forget it,” Yoongi muttered and added a quick “thanks” before heading off back to the hotel, probably swallowed by the snarl of thunder.

His clothes were drenched when he finally walked over the wooden path into the lobby. He pushed his hair back, his lungs finally calming down, his heart still hurting but pounding slower. It had been a while since the last one. He didn’t expect to have his next one at a place like this. Maybe he had opened his heart too much. Maybe his shell was in fact the safest place for him to exist.

His feet carried him along the hallway. He was about to take the stairs when the open doors of the empty dining room bid him welcome. There is was, luring him in.

The piano.

Yoongi stopped, plans of getting rid of his wet clothes and taking a warm shower totally forgotten. He wanted to soak a little while longer in his misery. So he stepped forward, walked through the big room, passing his invincible audience until he had reached the instrument. His fingers brushed over the lid that protected the keyboard until they pushed it upwards, exposing the black and white.

He sat down, bag sliding off his shoulders. Right. Maybe now was the time. Luckily, his bag was waterproof and protected his new possessions from the rain. He pulled out the music book and put it into the music stand over the keyboard. His thumb slid over the pages until his instinct opened up a random page. He didn’t recognise the title, but after skimming through the music, he figured it was a level he could manage. Yoongi took a deep breath and began to play, warming up to the instrument. The wetness made it difficult for him to not slip from the keyboard and he had to admit it wasn’t a masterly-achievement, but all in all, he liked the sound of the song. Deep notes slow, high notes pattering lightly.

When the song was over, Yoongi felt a movement next to him that gave him a start.

“Sorry,” Hoseok said with an apologetic smile. “Here. You’re flooding the whole room.” He handed Yoongi a towel.

“Ah, thanks …” Yoongi dried his hair a bit before wrapping the towel around his neck. “How long have you been listening?”

“I don’t know how long you’ve been playing, but I came by a couple of minutes ago,” Hoseok explained. “You’re really good.”

“I made quite a few mistakes.”

“Doesn’t matter to me. It still sounded really nice.” He smiled. Yoongi noticed that Hoseok’s hair and shoulders had fallen prey to the sudden weather as well, explaining why he had a towel handy when entering the room.

“Shitty weather, huh?” Yoongi commented.

“Yeah. Quite erratic lately,” Hoseok mumbled and looked through one of the windows. “That’s not really common here …”

“Maybe it wants to drive me away by doing that,” Yoongi said half in earnest, half in jest which didn’t go unnoticed. Hoseok frowned and sat down on one of the chairs nearby.

“That’s not true. What makes you think like that?”

Yoongi just shrugged, memories of Jimin struggling and Jungkook clinging to him flashing up in his mind’s eyes. Hoseok sighed, damp hair brushed back by his hand. He crossed his legs, one elbow now resting on the table so he could lie the head against his hand to support its weight.

“You wanna go back to your hometown, hyung?” he asked.

“I don’t know. I mean, I have to go back eventually.” Yoongi looked at the piano, his index finger pushing down a random natural.

“Why do you think your doctor send you to this place?”

“To heal. I was diagnosed with overwork and upcoming burn-out.”

Hoseok lifted his head properly again before asking again: “But what exactly needs to be healed? And will it happen by itself or do you need help? Our facility has many other experts, not just occupational therapists like me.”

Yoongi stared at the open music book, suddenly laughing as he read the title once more. He began to play, slower this time. Legato.

“My world was blue and grey,” he said, melody filling the air once again. “I just wanna be happier. Is this a big greed?” He looked at Hoseok who just listened and waited for him to open up more, to elaborate. “My life is cold. I knew I was lonely, but I did that to myself. Nobody rejected me. It was just me being too scared to get out of this colourless life. Those feelings helped me to write music and to reach people’s hearts with my lyrics. It feels safe to not feel much.”

Hoseok nodded. “And did that change since you’re here in Cheonsa?”

“Yeah … I suddenly feel warmth, blue turning yellow, orange and red. I see other people instead of anonymous grey faces.”

“You’re experiencing a happier world around you and you don’t know what to feel,” Hoseok concluded, receiving a lighter melody from the piano. Yoongi had switched to a higher key.

“I forgot how to feel. It’s so much. It’s like sitting in a roller-coaster in the darkness, not knowing when the next drop will come.”

“But with every drop follows an upswing. And after a few times, you’re getting used to it. It won’t feel as scary as the first time until you learn how to read the darkness, trusting the path that leads you upwards again.”

“What if it gets stuck down there?” Yoongi asked, his foot pressing down the pedal.

“You might think there’s nobody in the darkness, but that’s not true. There’re people who can help you. People you can call.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

“It’s not easy,” Hoseok objected and stood up, approaching the piano until he sat down right next to Yoongi. “It’s a life lesson.” He grabbed the towel and brushed it over Yoongi’s head, drying the hair a bit more. “And I can tell you that those words I told you weren’t coming from me. I just pass those things on that helped me grow when my own world was blue and grey.” He smiled at Yoongi.

“Can you answer me one question? Please.”

“Ask away.”

“Have you always been so nice to other people coming to this place to heal? Or am I just one of many others?” Yoongi couldn’t dare to look him in the eyes, too scared to read a reaction in Hoseok’s face before he even had the chance to speak out loud.

“We have no reason to not be nice to other guests,” Hoseok began, “but never once had they brought such a storm. You’re not one of many others. We could tell as soon as you arrived. I think the others aren’t ready to tell you yet, but this village is not ordinary. Everyone here knows that, but not the guests. They come to heal and leave refreshed, maybe sending us a post card every now and then to thank us for our service. But I never sat down next to them in front of the piano, drying their hair and tears.”

Yoongi hadn’t noticed his wet cheeks. He felt embarrassed for letting his guards down.

“We like you, hyung.” The words were finally out in the air. But instead of raising the unknown weight from his heart, it just let his blood rush through his body. “I don’t know how you do this, but something feels familiar. It just clicks.”

“It’s scary,” Yoongi muttered.

“Because you can feel it too?” Hoseok hit the mark. “Are we the colour that came into your life?”

“Do you want me to stay here?” Yoongi asked. “I feel like I’m disturbing your group.”

“Oh, hyung …” Hoseok chuckled. “Of course we want you to stay here. Not only because you’re not healed, but because we want to see how Yoongi-hyung looks like when he’s happy. And we want to be the reason of it.”

With that said, Hoseok stood up, patted his back and gave him some space. He had just left the dining room, when Yoongi decided to risk it all. He jumped out of his seat, ran across the room, right into the hallway.

“Wait!” he shouted. Hoseok turned around, face full of surprise as he watched Yoongi catching up. Yoongi took his hand, looking him in the eyes. His mouth opened, but his brain wasn’t sure what his heart wanted to say. Instead, they just stared at each other in the middle of the hallway. The rain was still pattering against the big windows. Hoseok’s eyes began to shine, a bright smile stretched his lips.

“I get it, hyung.”

Chapter Text

The pen spun around his fingers, ears covered by headphones. The new music was interesting, some songs he even repeated as soon as they were over. It helped him bringing his thoughts from his head onto the paper in front of him.

A day had had passed without him leaving the hotel. The persistent rain had helped him with this decision. He needed this time off social interactions to think about everything that had happened. Hoseok, Jimin, Jungkook … He could feel it. Seokjin and Taehyung, the thought of them always connected with the faint smell of coffee. And Namjoon, the one he had just met. He seemed to be the calmest out of all of them. Reasonable, maybe even a bit intimidating.

Light rain drops pelted against the pane in front of the desk after a gust of wind brought them to his window. He looked up to the colourful grey outside of his room. Fog had begun to cover the land and forest, pulling a ghostly curtain over the peaceful valley. Yoongi sighed. It wasn’t more than a drizzle left.

“I need a change of scene,” he muttered and grabbed his bag, putting his notes, pen and cassette player inside and headed out.

His hoodie protected him from the wet air around him as he walked along the path. The sports fields were empty ever since the rain had started to forbid the sun its entry through the clouds. When he reached the crossroad, his eyes lingered on the café a bit longer. Not today.

Instead, he decided to take the road he hadn’t discovered yet, passing a few houses and a closed carpentry before the last building presented itself humbly. It looked like a former farm house. The land around the house was now a ragged garden with many trees and bushes relaxing in the rain. Yoongi stopped to take a closer look. The wooden pillars and white walls matched the traditional flair of the village. The sliding door at the front was opened, a shield welcoming him at the local library.

When he walked inside, several free pair of slippers told him to get rid of his own shoes before leaving the entrance area. He pulled the hood from his head, took the slippers and opened the second door to actually set foot in the library. Wood and dry air mixed with the faint scent of tomes dominated the atmosphere. A part of the building was two-storeyed with an open ceiling, revealing what’s waiting for him upstairs. There was a seating area with more books and desks. Without thinking much, he walked up and made himself comfortable.

He continued his creative flow with the uncommon environment giving him new trains of thoughts. His memos turned into lyrics, a few notes sketched beside the words, a melody forming itself, Walkman untouched in his bag. Yoongi forgot how much time had passed after he committed song after song to paper and only the sudden creaking from downstairs managed to catch his attention. His head perked up like a curious cat. Footsteps came closer. Carefully, he sneaked to the handrail to look down at the first floor, spotting a floating tower of stacked tomes until his brain was able to comprehend that a hand was carrying them like a waiter their tray. The tower almost reached the second floor, but that didn’t seem to bother the man who was carrying the books with such ease. He turned his head a bit and Yoongi recognised Namjoon’ face. Right, he was told Namjoon worked as a librarian here.

Yoongi didn’t know if it was his simple presence or something else that gave him away, but Namjoon suddenly turned around, looking up and right into Yoongi’s eyes, frightened by the unknown visitor.

“Hyu-” Namjoon exclaimed and the tower of books lost its balance. The books crashed hell for leather onto the old parquet, disturbing the silence of the place, scaring off any other living creature that had sneaked around this house today.

“Oh snap,” Yoongi cursed and rushed downstairs. “Shit! I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said.

“Ah … no, it’s fine,” Namjoon reassured after he regained his composure. “I’m quite a blunderbuss. Not the first time this happens.”

Together, they tidied up the mess, stacking the books next to one of the shelves.

“I didn’t know you were here. When did you come?” Namjoon asked.

“Uh … what time is it?”

“Almost four.”

Oh, Yoongi thought. Seemed like he had skipped lunch when he arrived before noon. That would explain his more than peckish feeling that was now rising as soon as he registered the time he had been sitting here.

“I take that silence as longer than you thought.”

“Good guess,” Yoongi sighed with a followed amused huff and put the last book onto the pile. “How’s Jimin?”

“As good as new,” Namjoon responded with a fond chuckle. For a quick second, Yoongi could see nothing but warmth and gentleness behind those eyes. “Thanks again for helping him and keeping him safe.”

“Of course, no problem. I’m glad to hear he’s fine.”

“Did he tell you about his condition?” Namjoon asked.

“Kinda. He said it’s since the day he was born. That’s why nobody can help him really.”

“Yeah. That’s true.” Namjoon’s finger brushed over one of the times in the shelf next to him. He then took one of the books from the pile and began to sort and shelve them as he continued to speak: “But don’t underestimate him. He’s stronger than you might think, just not the way you would expect.”

“I know.” As Yoongi said that, Namjoon looked a bit taken aback, but relaxed as Yoongi continued. “He’s very insightful and compassionate about his home and you guys. I don’t think I’ve ever met such a loyal person as him.”

“I always wonder how such a big heart can fit into such a tiny body.”

Yoongi raised a teasing eyebrow. “Jimin and I are the same height, you know?”

Namjoon stopped, turned around and looked him in the eyes. His lips twitched before he said: “I can see that.”

They both began to laugh. Yoongi didn’t know what power he had just received at this very moment. He didn’t notice how Namjoon touched his chest as he watched Yoongi giggling at the silly joke.

“Jimin told me you’re special,” he said and got Yoongi’s attention back. “And I have to agree. You really are.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“You may think you’re just a visitor in Cheonsa, but I can tell you’re much more than that. At least to us.” Namjoon put the next book to the shelf. Yoongi frowned.

“Did Hoseok tell you something?”

“No?” Namjoon copied his frown without noticing, equally confused by the sudden question. “Why do you ask?”

“He told me something similar the other day.”

Namjoon smiled. “Hyung. Are you up for a cup of coffee?”

Yoongi was a bit surprised by the sudden invitation. He knew they would go to Seokjin’s and Taehyung’s coffee shop. Was he ready for more social interaction? Would Jungkook be there as well? That would be awkward. He could tell how uncomfortable the simple thought made him feel, anxiety spiking up for a second. He reached a point where he had to apologise before feelings would pile up too much. He didn’t sort his feelings yet, but he couldn’t leave the situation unclarified. For Jungkook’s sake, he had to be the hyung and take action.

“Okay. Sure.”

“Cool. Let’s bounce.”

The café was empty with the ongoing drizzle keeping people from the streets and rather inside their cosy homes. Yoongi had noticed Namjoon looking up the sky every now and then during their walk. Concern was written on his face, more than you would commonly express during this weather. Yes, it was wet, grey and foggy, but nothing to be worried about, Yoongi thought.

“Oh, hey hyung!” Taehyung was the first one to greet Namjoon once they had entered the shop. Yoongi followed and closed the door to keep the bad weather outside.

“Hey, Tae.” Namjoon gave him a smile, looking around, spotting Seokjin at one of the tables, eating something. “Hello, hyung.”

“Sup,” Seokjin responded with his cheeks full of noodles, lifting his hand to greet the two of them. The frown on Namjoon’s face was copied on his forehead. “Still that bad?”

“Not more than a drizzle, but you know what that means,” Namjoon answered. The cryptic talk reminded Yoongi again that he was still an outsider in this town. This wasn’t his place.

“Why did you bring me here?” he asked a bit bluntly, but the urge to get some clear answers had grown too much during their silent way to the café. Namjoon turned around with an apologetic smile and asked him to take a seat. A bit later, both of them had a steaming mug of freshly ground coffee in front of them.

“How are you feeling, hyung?” Taehyung asked as he placed milk and sugar onto their table as well.

“Fine.”

“Jungkook told us you were hurting,” Namjoon added. “He’s quite … empathetic.”

Yoongi was taken aback by his statement. Seemed like he wasn’t the only one who could be straight forward. The memories of snapping at Jungkook, playing the piano and talking to Hoseok came back to the surface with no chance to supress them anymore. They were here, demanding answers and solutions.

“Okay … maybe I’m not … fine,” he muttered. “I mean, there’s a reason my doctor sent me here.”

Namjoon just nodded and sipped his coffee. The sudden silence felt heavy on Yoongi’s shoulders and he hated the fact that it urged him to explain things further. He sighed and wrapped his index finger around the handle of the cup.

“Many things happened,” he began and took a sip as well. The taste and scent was familiar by now, giving him the last bit of security to open up more. Namjoon still remained quiet, just listening so Yoongi continued:

“It might be ordinary days for you here, but for me, everything feels different. The atmosphere of the village, the calm, the peace. There’s nothing that distracts me from myself. It gave me the chance to think about my life. And somehow you and the others play a big role in it.”

“How come?”

“You not only welcomed me with so much kindness, but also showed me a life outside of my own bubble without force. It felt so easy and simple. And life isn’t simple. Everything is complicated and complex. Work, people, love.”

“I’ve never lived in the city so I can’t tell if life is so different than here, but I can tell you one thing.” Namjoon put the mug down and leaned against the chair, legs crossed. “The most simple and easiest thing for a pianist is the piano. Once you master something with work and dedication, it’s like breathing. You live a stressful and rushed life in Daegu that you didn’t seem to have mastered yet. But in a little village, you don’t have all these things that might overwhelm you. That’s what makes it look easy and simple for you as an outsider’s perspective. On the other hand, we as villagers have mastered things in our lives that you didn’t yet experienced. Not because it doesn’t exist in the city – I’m certain it’s everywhere – but because time decided to not confront you with it yet. And that’s okay. That’s normal.”

“So since things are simpler here, would you say you have mastered yourself?” Yoongi asked.

“No. It doesn’t matter if you’re born in a big city or a small town. This is a lifelong study and you continue to grow ever since you’ve been born. But I think I’ve reached a level where I can listen to myself and question my thoughts. And sometimes, I even find some answers.”

Yoongi hummed. He felt things he didn’t have any experience in. It’s so new and unknown to his mind that it scared him. He wanted to understand it so he thought of the one thing he would call his safe zone: music. Life as music. He played allegro since he can remember, maybe even allegretto during stressful times. But now, the melody had changed for the first time he could remember. Andante and adagio. Calm and quiet.

“And when there are things that you don’t understand about yourself?”

“Then I ask people that are close to me. Getting a second opinion about yourself can be really helpful for your growth,” Namjoon said, looking up after examining the moving surface of the black liquid in his mug. Yoongi shirked from his look. “You don’t have those kind of people, do you hyung?”

“I don’t like to have people too close to me. It makes me feel vulnerable.”

“Is that why you reacted so strongly to Jungkook’s outburst?” Namjoon’s tone was still soft, no trace of accusation or judge in his voice. Yoongi could still feel himself wince at his words.

“I don’t know …” He shrugged. “I felt like an open book in front of him. It was scary. His reaction confused me …”

“He’s worried about you.” Namjoon looked out of the window, eyes lingering over the sky, enshrouded by clouds. The rain got stronger again, pattering against the concrete and creating new puddles on the roads. “Not angry.”

“Why?”

“I fear the only person that can answer this question is you. Whatever it is, it’s wearing you out.”

Yoongi didn’t even had a chance to think about Namjoon’s words. The loud crash of the front door being opened with dash let everyone in the shop jerk, heads turning around.

“Hyung! Taehyung!” It was Jimin, clothes drenched by the fresh rain and wet hair glued against his forehead. Shock and utter fear was written on his face.

“What happened?” Namjoon asked, knocking down his chair as he stood up too quickly.

“It’s Jungkook! He …” Jimin had difficulties catching his breath. Yoongi remembered his condition and rushed towards him.

“Sit down first.”

“Jungkook … He ran into the forest!”

Everyone stared at him with disbelief. Seokjin, who had brought him a towel to dry his hair walked to the open door to look at the hills. The storm had regained its strength back as if it had never stopped.

“Why? He knows the hills are dangerous during such a storm! The soil is soaked and unstable,” Namjoon said.

“He heard it crying for him.” Jimin had tears in his eyes. “I couldn’t stop him. He … he probably thinks it’s his fault if the storm hurts the forest again!”

“Jimin-ah …” Taehyung kneeled down in front of him, taking both of his trembling hands into his. “Deep breaths. In … and out … there you go.”

“We need to find him.” Namjoon was about to grab his umbrella. “You need to rest, Jimin. Yoongi-hyung can take care of you while we’re looking for him.”

“Can somebody tell me what the hell is going on right now?!” Yoongi shouted through the whole café, providing immediate silence among the five of them. “What do you mean he heard the forest crying for him?”

“Hyung …”

“No, Tae. He’s right.” Jimin sighed, eyes meeting Yoongi. “We were about to tell you the truth anyway.”

Yoongi raised an eyebrow. So there was something the others kept hidden from him. The reason why he felt like an outsider. He grabbed his chair and sat down, signalling Jimin to continue.

“Cheonsa is not a normal village. There’s a reason it’s named Guardian Angel in Korean. Do you know the legends of Spirits, hyung?” Jimin asked.

“Of course. Everyone learns about those stories in elementary school. They went extinct many years ago.” Albeit Yoongi always doubted they actually existed in the first place.

“Well … they are not just myths. Way back in the past, Spirits really lived among humans to balance culture and nature. But Spirits do not only protect their designated element, but also humans if they want to. Being protected by a Spirit was one of the greatest gifts in human history. Not only does their power keep them from aging, but their protégés as well. Therefore … during the Second World War, soldiers had forced Spirits to protect them on the battlefield. Most Spirits died back then and society thought, they went extinct by now. Among those spirits were those who had created this village 50 years ago. Back then, humans had saved three Spirits by risking their own lives. As a thank you, they built this village named Cheonsa to give those humans a home. When the Spirits died during The War, the village was almost completely destroyed. However … humans managed to restore the place and nature gifted the village and its people three new Spirits. That happened almost thirty years ago …” Jimin looked at Namjoon, “in 1964”, he looked down at his lap, “1965” and outside through the rain, “and 1967.”

Yoongi blinked and sucked his teeth. “You really want to tell me that you, Namjoon and Jungkook are Spirits? Those Spirits?”

“Spirits are offsprings of the mountains, rivers and forests,” Namjoon now continued. “Mountain Spirits are insanely strong, but their hearts are sealed by stone. River Spirits can heal, but their bodies are weak … That’s why no doctor could ever help Jimin. It’s in his nature.”

“And forest Spirits can hear the wind whispering into their ears, telling them about people’s emotions, but their mood is very sensitive and reflects on the weather. Even causing catastrophes …” Taehyung bit his lip. “We really need to go now, hyung.”

“We will explain everything once we know Jungkook is safe and sound,” Namjoon said, giving Yoongi an apologetic look before taking his umbrella and running outside. Seokjin and Taehyung followed, leaving him and Jimin alone.

“I’m sorry for not telling you, hyung … It’s not something we tell people from outside our village.”

Yoongi walked up to him. “Give me a proof.”

“Huh?”

“What do you take me for, hm? Do you really think I would believe this shit just like that? Of all things, Spirits?” Yoongi was angry. He didn’t even know why. Everything made sense now. They never lied to him, just protecting a secret that was meant to stay among themselves. But he wasn’t one of them. Why did they tell him? Now, he would never be able to return to his normal life. Everything was fucked up. They decided to let him in. And he didn’t want to leave.

And Yoongi was scared.

They decided to be vulnerable in front of him. They trusted him.

“We like you, hyung.”

He didn’t think about it twice when he grabbed one of the mugs and smashed them on the ground. Jimin jerked at the shattering noise. Yoongi picked up one of the shards, edge pressed against his open palm.

“So, you’re a river Spirit?”

“Hyung, no! Stop that!”

“You can heal people’s wounds then, right?” His fingers trembled. He closed his eyes, ready to cut his hand when something warm touched his chest. He stopped, shard falling down as the warmth spread through his whole body. His eyes opened again, staring down at his chest. Jimin had his hands pressed up against him. They were glowing.

“Here …” Jimin whispered. “Is that proof enough?” He smiled. “Your heart is beating so strongly, hyung. It’s beautiful.” The light faded together with Jimin’s last bits of energy. He slumped against Yoongi’s body. Arms wrapped around him, pulling him closer.

“I’m sorry … I … don’t know why I did that …” Yoongi breathed.

“It’s okay.” Jimin was too weak to smile, but Yoongi could hear the relief in his voice. “Your emotions are all over the place right now.”

“And here I was, thinking your life was easy and simple here ….”

Jimin huffed against his shoulder and mumbled: “Everyone has their own story.”

“Jungkook could feel everything inside of me?” He felt Jimin nod. “Shit … it’s my fault he caused this storm.”

“It’s not your fault to feel, hyung … and it’s not Jungkook’s fault to absorb it. It’s who we are. Never apologise for how you feel.”

Yoongi took a deep breath and carried Jimin to one of the benches at the corner of the coffee shop. He looked around, trying to remember the location of the shop’s telephone. After walking around the counter and finding the device, he took the card of the hotel out of his wallet and dialled the number.

“Hello, this is Min Yoongi. I’m at the village café right now. Could you please leave a message for Jung Hoseok? … Yes. Please tell him that he is needed at the café. Thank you.”

“You’re going after Jungkook.” Jimin concluded.

Yoongi ended the call and gave him a nod. “I’m sorry for leaving you alone … but if Jungkook’s feeling like that because of me, I’m the one who needs to fix this.”

“Go, hyung. I’ll be fine. Just … Please find our little forest Spirit …”

Chapter Text

Yoongi hated the feeling of drenched clothes sticking to his skin. He hated having his hair wet against his forehead. But he couldn’t care less right now. He passed the village in no time, reaching the edge of the wood without meeting another person. Namjoon and the others had to have hurried as well, already inside the forest to look for the young Spirit. They knew this area, Yoongi did not. He only hiked his way up to the shrine once, meeting Jungkook for the first time. It was his only clue right now.

“Dammit,” he cursed, pushed his wet bangs out of the way and entered the forest. The rain had turned the path into a mud trail. The soil wrapped itself around Yoongi’s ankles as if it wanted him to stop going any step further into its territory. Yoongi had to hold himself on trees and branches to not slip all the way down again. Breaking a leg definitely wasn’t part of his rescue mission.

“Jungkook-ah!” he called, albeit he didn’t expect him to answer so soon. The storm swallowed his voice anyway, the rustling of the leaves and the rain pattering against the stones much louder. Only the thunder answered him with a deep growl. He had to go deeper.

Finally, Yoongi reached the shrine. Mud was covering the lower half of his jeans, his socks soaked and shoes painted with dirt that it was impossible to tell which colour was hidden underneath.

“Jungkook!” He shouted again as he ran across the clearing, jumping over puddles until he was standing in front of the old building. Lightning illuminated the sky. That was all coming from Jungkook? And he caused the boy to feel this way? He didn’t even give himself time to process what Jimin had told him back at the café.

Spirits.

Was that the reason they couldn’t leave this place? Were they bound to the valley in order to protect it?

Yoongi’s eyes landed on a stone slab next to the shrine. The words that were carved inside the stone were written in Hangul, not Chinese letters like at many shrines he had visited before. This building was much younger.

“Are you their birth place?” Yoongi asked the shrine and began to read the words. “To keep the plants growing, the water flowing and the rocks bowing, we will watch over you. The Spirits of the forest, river and mountains will protect Cheonsa and their people as their guardians and friends.”

A strong blow pushed Yoongi closer to the shrine. He took a deep breath, the noise around him fading out of his consciousness. He put his hands together, finger over finger, chin towards his chest, eyes closed.

“I don’t know if this works, but maybe you can hear me, forest. You gifted this village a wonderful and ambitious boy that showed me my inner storm that‘s rampaging inside of me and now in the real world likewise. I need to find him to not only protect him, but this place as well. Nobody should be harmed by the feelings I was hiding. I understand that now. Please. Help me find Jungkook …”

As soon as he finished his prayer, Yoongi felt the wind circling around his body, almost twirling him around. As if somebody placed a hand on his back, the wind pushed him forward. Yoongi stumbled.

“Are you showing me the way?”

Instead of an answer, another blow hit him. He stopped fighting it and began to walk, passing the shrine and following the forest’s breath through the undergrowth.

“Thank you …”

The storm cried over the valley, its residents looking up the sky in genuine concern. They knew. On the day the Spirits appeared, born from the forest, the river and mountains, the village had been reborn from its slumber. They celebrated their arrival, giving them a home and treating them like family. They grew up without their bodies changing, their vessels already grown to live among humans.

After about twenty years, Seokjin and Taehyung appeared. Their café created a new place of comfort and relaxation for the Spirits. It didn’t take long until they grew closer, until they shared their secrets and formed a bond that meant more than love. Namjoon could feel the stone around his heart finally crack, something nobody else had done all these years ago. He was able to feel something. Joy, grief, curiosity. With Taehyung’s and Seokjin’s light-heartedness, he was able to find himself and his emotions. He found out about his passion for wisdom and stories and the village was more than happy to gift him a place full of knowledge and untold tales. They had been his key.

A key was a human who was able to counter a Spirit’s weakness. When Namjoon felt his heart not only being freed from its rocky shell, but beating for the others, he learnt what it meant to love. Meanwhile, the others knew what it meant to be guarded by a Spirit, what an honour it was to receive such power. A life without aging. A life rooted in Cheonsa. Taehyung and Seokjin were happy.

Hoseok followed a couple of years later and this time, it was Jimin who felt something click inside of him. Hoseok was his key. With Jimin’s ailment of his fragile body, Hoseok was the helping hand he needed. His own guardian. Jimin was able to allow himself to fall into somebody’s arms, knowing they would catch him, no matter what. Hoseok’s smile lit up the whole village, giving it energy and hope.

Jungkook loved all of them. He could feel their love for each other and it made him as happy as ever. But he never felt that click. Until that very day he was able to see Yoongi’s soul. Buried under all the pain, stress and conflicts was sitting serenity and stability. But Yoongi would never be able to reach those emotions by himself and Jungkook knew that. It hurt him, more than anything else. Because it clicked. The key to his lock was found but unreachable.

Yoongi ran through the forest, the rain falling like veils from the tree tops, aggravating his visibility.

“Jungkook-ah!” he called. “Jungkook!” Again and again. He cursed under his breath, taking a step forward. The muddy ground under his feet slipped away, pulling him down a slope. Yoongi yelped as he skidded down, mud and water soaking the last places that had somehow managed to stay dry until now. The sludge croaked like a big frog as he fell into a puddle at the end of the slope. Disgust was his first thought. He rubbed the mud from his face and stood up, fortunately unharmed.

“What am I doing here …?” he asked himself, looking down at the brown mass that had been his clothes. He was here to relax and ease his mind, not running through a forest in the middle of a storm with his lungs burning and his heart pounding against his ribcage as if it didn’t want to be part of his body anymore. Yoongi wouldn’t be even mad at his heart. He didn’t want to be in his skin either right now. He could see himself flying back to the hotel, under his bedsheets with a warm cup of coffee and a book.

“H-hyung?”

He was back in his body within a blink, head whipping around.

“Jungkook!” Only a few steps apart. There he was. The Spirit was sitting next to a fallen trunk, clothes and face just as muddy as his own. Yoongi stood up and stumbled over the mud, now paying more attention to his surroundings. The slope was covered in sludge, bushes and trees torn from the soil. A landslide.

“What’re you doing here? We’ve been looking for you since-” Hours? How long has it been? Yoongi had lost his sense of time completely while following the wind.

“I’m sorry.” Jungkook’s eyes were swollen. Tears had managed to dig furrows through the dried mud that stuck to his cheeks. He cut a pitiful figure. Yoongi took his hand.

“Let’s get you home.”

“I can’t!” Jungkook shook his head, eyes following the trunk. “I need to save it …”

“Save it?” Yoongi thought he meant the forest, but as he noticed a movement not far from them, he jerked, eyes growing wide with shock.

A deer, no, a fawn was trapped under the heavy trunk, trying to get free and find its mother. It was already too week to struggle much and cry for help.

“I’m here …” Jungkook crawled over the helpless creature and petted its dirty fur. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t meant to harm anyone …”

“It’s not your fault,” Yoongi said.

“It is!” Jungkook exclaimed, news tears welling up. “You have no idea, hyung!”

“Jimin told me.” Yoongi remained calm, voice low and collected. “He told me about the three of you.” He stepped forward until he kneeled down right in front of Jungkook and the fawn. Carefully, he brushed the wet curls out of Jungkook’s face. “I’m not mad at you. And I’m sorry for snapping during our last encounter. We need to talk about it, but now is neither the right time, nor the right place.” He cupped Jungkook’s cheeks, remembering Jimin’s words. Jungkook controlled the weather with his emotions. Panic, fear and sadness were causing this storm. Yoongi was familiar with these feelings, but there were not his own right now. Instead, he felt relief. Relief to finally understand what was going on and to have Jungkook sitting right in front of him. He took a deep breath and Jungkook copied him without any prompting.

“You’re not mad at me …?” Jungkook whispered.

“No. Here.” He put the Spirit’s hand against his chest. He didn’t know if that would make any difference, but it felt good to hold Jungkook’s hand, calming the trembling fingers and keeping them close. “Can you feel it?”

“You … you’re letting me in?”

Yoongi just nodded and watched Jungkook closing his eyes, the wind calmed down, the growling thunder fell silent and the rain thinned out with every breath he was taking.

“There you go.” Yoongi smiled. The storm was fading away, disappearing as quickly as it came over them. Only grey clouds remained at the sky, but that was okay. It didn’t have to be perfect, just enough for Jungkook to calm down.

“What about the baby?” He eventually asked, eyes opened again, staring helplessly into Yoongi’s. “I tried lifting the trunk, but it’s too heavy.”

“Together.”

They stood up, each of them sliding their arms underneath the fallen tree, the animal in-between. They heaved and groaned, but no matter how hard they tried, the trunk didn’t move. The rain was about to pick up again, when the stem was lifted from the ground without their hands even touching it.

“What the-”

“Hyung!”

Yoongi spun around, following the trunk that was moved out of the way. Strong hands were wrapped around the bark. Namjoon. The mountain Spirit pushed the tree away, throwing it into the puddles.

Jungkook cried out and stumbled into his arms, face buried into Namjoon’s shoulder. Meanwhile, the fawn had noticed the lack of weight on its body and began to stir.

“Hey buddy.” It was Taehyung, carefully picking up the animal so it could rest somewhere safe. Yoongi felt himself lurching as the tension in his body eased up too quickly. An arm wrapped itself around his shoulders.

“Thank you, Yoongi.” Seokjin looked at him, one cheek marked with a cut that told their part of the story in the forest.

“I’m sorry for leaving Jimin alone,” were Yoongi’s first outspoken thoughts. “Hoseok should be with him by now. A-and he told me everything. About Jungkook and-”

“It’s okay.” Seokjin squeezed his shoulder and that was enough for Yoongi to stop talking. Right. Wrong time and wrong place.

“The fawn is okay,” Taehyung said as he joined them with a smile. “Shocked, but it can walk again.”

“Jungkook is our ranger. Let him decide what to do next,” Seokjin said and looked over the Spirit. They watched Jungkook whispering something into Namjoon’s ear and the first sunbeams broke through the blankets of clouds.

“Let’s go home.”

A day had passed since the incident at the forest happened. Jungkook took care of the fawn and guided the mother and father with the wind of the forest to the shrine where the family was reunited. Jimin rested well with Hoseok keeping a close eye on him.

The bell tolled as Yoongi stepped into the café. A shower, sleep and fresh clothes did wonder to him. Everyone was sitting at the table, waiting for him with smiles on their faces. It had been his idea to meet up here today. Right place, right time.

“Hey.”

“Hey, hyung,” Jimin greeted him. “Good to see you.”

“How’re you feeling?” Yoongi asked as he took a seat. A steaming mug of coffee was already in front of him.

“Better. Nothing time cannot heal.”

Yoongi nodded and wrapped his fingers around the cup, taking a deep breath. “Thanks for coming. I want to apologise to all of you. For causing all this trouble.” He lowered his head.

“We would like to apologise as well,” Namjoon said. “For not being honest with you as soon as we realised that you are more than a guest in this village.”

“More than a friend,” Jungkook added quietly, catching Yoongi’s attention. “You’re my key, hyung.”

“Your key?”

Namjoon was so kind to explain the meaning behind this word to Yoongi. After yesterday, he believed nothing would really shock him anymore, but he was wrong.

“What does it mean for me? For … us?” Yoongi asked.

“That you’re the one Jungkook needs in his life. We don’t know if only one person is a key for a Spirit or not. But you’re his first.”

“Hyung,” Hoseok reached out to him. “Remember what I told you at the lounge? Those words didn’t change. If not, they became more solid.”

Yoongi chewed on the inside of his bottom lip. Of course he remembered the talk with Hoseok at the hotel. They liked him. He liked them. Love was a strong word he didn’t want to use now. He wanted to save that for later. But later meant a future in Cheonsa. And that was what was making him nervous.

“I’m a bit jealous of you, to be honest,” he began. “Spirits get born with a purpose, knowing exactly what to do. Seokjin-hyung and Taehyung fulfilled their dream of owning a café, Hoseok-ah does what he can do best and loves, helping people and giving them hope.” Yoongi looked up. “But what should I do here? I don’t know how to help. I’m a songwriter and musician.”

“Oh, hyung,” Hoseok giggled, catching Yoongi off-guard. “Did you really listen to what I’ve said?”

Yoongi frowned, but it was Jungkook who answered instead:

“Cheonsa is a place to heal. And like you, it’s not only bodies but heads and souls as well that need to heal. We have therapists to treat people’s minds, but for the soul, we need art.”

“It’s the same thing you did in Daegu, silly,” Hoseok added. “Writing songs and stories to heal yourself. And playing music to heal the world.” He smiled at him and after all these years, Yoongi could feel hope deep inside of his heart. “Our piano can finally be alive with your help, hyung.”

“Music is your cure. And it can be for many others,” Namjoon said before sipping his tea, confident in his own spoken words.

“What do you think?” Taehyung asked.

Yoongi’s first instinct was to think about it first before making such a huge decision. But in his head, he couldn’t find a single argument to stay at his current apartment in Daegu and continue his life with the knowledge of the existence of this place. Of these people. Of these Spirits. His heart didn’t belong to the city, it belonged to himself. He was the one to decide. And he decided to trust what he had been scared of for too long: His emotions.

He lifted the mug, nose recognising a scent that already smelled like home. It would be a simple life. But at the same time so special. We would stop aging. A life of youth.

“Are we immortal?” he asked.

“No. Your bodies won’t age while we exist,” Namjoon said. “And our existence won’t be forever. We don’t know for how long we will be part of this world in this form, but there will be an end in the future. Maybe in a hundred years, maybe in thousand.”

That was all Yoongi needed to know.

“I’ll stay.”

And he didn’t regret this decision ever in his long and happy life.