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magini0 · 1 month

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Kimset (IV)

Pairing: ot6 x Jungkook | Jungkook x Everyone

Genre: Witch AU, Soulmate AU, Ex's to Lovers, Angst With a Happy Ending

Summary: Jungkook has until the next Witching Moon to develop a cure for his chronic illness. With his race against time, he really doesn’t have the nerve to be constantly pestered by his old coven mates—whom he had left behind after a mission gone wrong. Back as a famous healer and sponsored by a renowned magical society, Jungkook is ready to do what it takes to survive. Now, if only his former coven would back off and stop being so damn persistent in making up for their old mistakes…

Word Count: 13k

Also accessible on ao3 => Here Previous Chapter => Here Next Chapter => Coming Soon

There was a strange, nauseating race to Taehyung's heartbeat as he walked down the hall. His feet cascaded down the tiled floor; his loud footsteps echoed tauntingly throughout the empty corridor illuminated by the afternoon sun. The shadows cast the window's silhouettes against the floor. His palms were strangely sweaty, restless as he switched through a cycle of clenching and unclenching his hands before he'd fiddle with his clothes for the umpteenth time, trying to catch a glimpse of himself in the window's reflective surface as he walked, combing through his hair.

He followed the numbers on each door, trying to find the one that belonged to Jungkook. B013, right? He was nervous because, of course, he was. Their last conversation—if you could even call it that—had hardly even grazed the top of the iceberg that was their relationship. To be entirely fair, Taehyung strongly doubted that this conversation would go any differently. But unlike his hyungs, he just couldn't bring himself to give Jungkook space. He just couldn't.

Not when it's been literal years since he's spent more than a fleeting moment with Jungkook, not when he had yet to fully take him in. His hair had grown out, Taehyung recalled. The still black, natural hair was cut into a styled fringe. Hair a little longer, bangs stopping a little over his cheeks with a slight curl to the end swaying from the face. The sides of his hair were still styled, covering the tips of his ears. A row of piercings lined one of his ears, along with his brow and bottom lip. His chest puffed with a momentary sense of pride as he had noticed them during their last encounter, and reluctantly wandered back to a place where he watched Jungkook marvel through a jewelry shop's showcase window—lamenting the fact that his parents would never let him tarnish his image through body modifications.

Taehyung scoffed at the momentary reminder of Jungkook's atrocious set of parents. But there Jungkook had stood— his little bunny, sprouting piercing like it was no one's business. Because it wasn't, and Taehyung couldn't help but feel an assortment of pride and happiness that Jungkook had found that independence for himself.

Having Jungkook before him terminated any and all of his thoughts, rendering him to nothing but a blubbering stupored twat—while simultaneously promoting such a heaviness to take hold of him. The kind of short, fleeting questions one could sense in the pit of their stomachs—sinking. What had Jungkook been like during his first piercing?

Taehyung recalled in that vague moment by the jewelry shop window how he had promised Jungkook that when the witch turned eighteen, he'd sneak him out to get his ears pierced. A fleeting smile twitched across his face as he walked, his hand lifting to subconsciously brush against his earlobe. About a month after making that promise, Teahyung had snuck out of the academy and purchased a set of earrings, small silver stars hanging from a delicate chain, and a little clear glass diamond in the star's centers. It hadn't been much, and usually Taehyung wasn't such a fan of something so delicate. But his bun was discovering stargazing with Yoongi at the time—something that had totally not made him jealous—and seemed to be enjoying it. Taehyung had blown most, if not all, of his summer wages on that set.

Because Jungkook getting his ears pierced had been so much more than just getting to buy some new jewelry. It was more than just an act of spontaneous defiance. It was a call for independence, a step towards individuality that Jungkook's parents refused to permit otherwise. Taehyung had understood that—he still does.

Taehyung glanced outside, but his gaze was unfocused—did Jungkook need to hold someone's hand? Did his face scrunch up the way it always does, eyes squeezed shut, and nose crunched in that adorable way? Taehyung had missed it. That moment he had reserved for them—he had missed it all. The sense of loss that realization accompanied was unbearable.

He couldn't help but wonder if Jungkook ever got those tattoos he had wanted, too. Of course, he wouldn't go on and ask something so personal. His bun might literally shank him for it.

But he still felt unsettled and frustrated by their last meeting. He had wanted to say more, but just being able to see Jungkook again—before him, living, breathing, alive; vaporized any and every thought of his because Jungkook was finally there—he was okay.

Jungkook had been angry— rightly fucking so, he might add. Emotional, frustrated, hurt. It killed him. Their eyes had locked, and suddenly he was speechless. There stood his baby, his stupid, naive bunny—crying, and he wasn't able to do anything about it.

Ultimately, he was one of the six reasons those eyes were shedding tears in the first place. In that moment, it didn't matter how long Taehyung had prowled the streets of Korea looking for those same pair of eyes, how he scanned over the crowds to try and recognize that familiar head of tussled, unkempt hair, because Jungkook was there, crying because of him.

Walking further down the hall, Taehyung didn't expect this conversation to go any better. Realistically, he was just psyching himself up to be yelled at, berated, and metaphorically thrown around as Jungkook vented six years of hate onto him. But Taehyung didn't mind because it was Jungkook's voice doing it. He didn't mind those heated, fiery gazes because it was Jungkook's chocolate eyes pointing them.

Because even for a moment—he got to exist in the same space as Jungkook.

And maybe, just maybe, after Jungkook got to say everything he needed or wanted to, Taehyung would be able to say he was sorry. He was really starting to hate that word—sorry. as if the depths of his remorse, the sheer level of guilt, regret, and sorrow could ever be narrowed down to five abysmal letters.

Because he was so much more than just sorry. He cursed every day that had passed for the last six years—2,190 damned days, give or take a few. He hexed every watery blink, the haunting quiver of his sweet voice, the balling of his fist and shaking of his hand. For every minute, Jungkook was out there, thinking for even a second he hadn't been out there looking for him.

Gaze following the labels against each the door, he felt the numbers nearing Jungkooks. The door was slightly ajar, and through it, Taehyung could hear the familiar voice of his soulmate.

"But we fell in love."

"Despite all odds—fuck, we grew to love each other above all else."

"So—"

"So when three of our parents demanded a trial."

"We agreed."

"Because—"

"Because we thought we'd be proving them wrong."

"We lost everything."

"Or, at least—I had lost everything."

Taehyung wasn't much of a crier—that was Jimin's job, and by the Gods, he hated those tears, too. So why—Why were his eyes suddenly so watery? The hair around him felt heavy, cold, and stale.

He had half a mind to burst into the laboratory, stand before Jungkook, and proclaim that he was still here. That Jungkook still had him and that he was so, so fucking sorry. That there wouldn't be a day that would pass now where he wouldn't be there to hold his hand. Because Taehyung loved him.

He hasn't stopped. The abrasive, explosive anger within a single night could never diminish even an ounce of the care he held for Jungkook. Because when they had first met, before it was him and Jimin, or Hoseok or Yoongi or Jin and Namjoon— it had been Jungkook. Despite having cared for all of them, Taehyung loved him first.

He still does.

But what should he say—now? When your soulmate stands before you, tone filled with such grief and desolation at the sheer recollection of you, of what you had and what you were.

Taehyung didn't consider himself a coward—no, he was a true hothead who felt first and thought second. So he had practiced his confessions with Jimin, over and over, deep into the starry nights and bear ceilings. But his tongue felt heavy, and suddenly, all the words he had prepped felt inadequate.

Taehyung had never been good with words. He couldn't string together poetic confessions like Namjoon or Jimin, lay out his soul like Hoseok, or make himself as clear and vulnerable as Jin and Yoongi. He was just well—unsure. He chose to act; when someone bothered Jungkook, he'd bash the perpetrator's head against a locker. If the headmaster went off again, he'd put a hex on the seams of his clothes.

Jungkook deserved more than that. Not someone who immediately set out on a tyrannical war path, promising vengeance for every tear spilled because his baby bunny was upset and someone was paying for it. He deserved someone who didn't become completely overwhelmed with fury the moment he shed a tear, someone who would do more than just stand still with his head bowed low while being scolded. No, it had been six cursed years. Taehyung was going to show that he had changed, that he could—and would find the right words for him. He might not be as flowery or delicate—but they'd be his.

"How'd it go?"

Jimin hurriedly asked before Taehyung even managed to close the front door. Taehyung, still feeling like a brooding cloud had formed over him, didn't utter a word as he meticulously took off his coat. He dusted it off despite only having walked to and from the science building before hanging it up. He stepped out of his shoes and put them neatly on the shoe rack, sliding into his slippers shortly after—to put it concisely, he was stalling.

Jimin frowned. It didn't take a genius to decipher the pensive mood looming through Taehyung's aura. Jimin would've gone with Taehyung to hopefully talk with Jungkook, but not only did the witch ignore his little note on the breakfast tray from earlier this week, but it also would have overwhelmed Jungkook. Neither of them wanted that—they just wanted to talk, to see him.

Taehyung had finally looked up, eyes locking briefly with his own. His own breath caught briefly stuck in his throat at the pitiful sight. Taehyung's hair was disheveled, no doubt from his fidgety hands constantly combing through it. The rim of his eyes were a bit bloodshot, and trailing down his gaze to Taehyung's cheeks they appeared just a bit too red. Jimin bit the inside of his cheek, a poor attempt to keep his scolding at bay. He knew Taehyung handled his emotions differently and that whenever the witch was ever brought to tears, he'd wipe them away with such incredulous vigor till his cheeks turned raw.

The sight was strikingly familiar. It barely felt like any time at all since Taehyung appeared like that in front of his door. Gods—it had been so late into the night that it became early. But Taehyung hadn't stopped; hadn't slept either— none of them had. The witch's cheeks had been sunken in ever so slightly, and the darkness underneath his eyes had completely altered Taehyung's otherwise healthy complexion. Taehyung had been out looking for Jungkook again.

Jimin might never forget that night when he opened his door for Taehyung. How, during that night since Jungkook's disappearance, Taehyung had cried. Cried—a loose term for what had happened. Sobbed seemed more appropriate, the type that made one's legs feel weak, made it hard to breathe, and left you with a sore throat. It was the sound of someone losing hope.

Taehyung never stopped looking—none of them had. But after the first few months, Taehyung's near-daily outings turned more sporadic. But they still visited Hangawoondae annually, still holding onto the fickle hope of spotting their bunny window shopping again.

"Let's go talk in my room, hm?" Jimin suggested, carefully reaching out and taking a hold of Taehyung's cold hand. Walking past the living room still felt surreal to him, seeing Hoseok lounging while switching through the channels playing across the TV, elbow resting on the armrest and cheek squished against the palm of his propped-up hand. Jin was moving about in the kitchen, preparing a honey pastry with a ruminating look. The sweet dessert had been Jungkook's favorite, a fact that had gone unnoticed by no one.

Nothing had been the same since Jungkook left. Being able to see some of his old hyungs and share a communal space with them again felt strange. He had missed it.

Walking past the open space and down the hall, he ignored the twisting pang of emotion he felt by passing Jungkook's closed door. Whether Jungkook was there or not, that pale white door remained closed. He couldn't really blame him, especially after their last confrontation—Jimin understood.

Gently nudging Taehyung into his (their) room, he gently closed the door.

The enchantment wasn't necessarily very noticeable, the spells back boning loosely marked onto the inside of the doorframe. But walking through the door, a lingering sense of magic brushed against one's skin for a moment—not by much, but enough for anyone to be aware that the room they were entering was very much manipulated by an outside force.

Gone was the dreary interior of a basic apartment bedroom, replaced by something more to Jimin's tastes, to his needs. The space was larger, with a wide circular window casting nearly the entirety of the room in natural light. Creams and soft colors scattered about, from blankets to pillows, frames, and wardrobes. A queen-sized bed covered in far too many throws and pillows. There wasn't a color out of place; everything followed a similar pallet. It would've looked stale if it weren't for Jimin's artistic eye, dotting little spots of complementary colors here and there, the occasional green plant from Namjoon giving the space a little liveliness.

A picture frame of him and Taehyung rested on his bedside table, and a group photo of everyone during their third Solar dance in the academy hung against the wall.

Jimin was aware of his contribution to their split. He had been so scared, hurt, frightened, and angry at the time. He had his reasons during that night; the time he spent in the Deep with the others was too long. The mission had been immoral from the start—who would do that to a bunch of teenagers?

But still, he had never managed to actually get rid of any of their shared photos. He still had their old photo albums hiding underneath his bed; the one hanging against the wall was simply his favorite. Glancing at it now, their naive and smiling faces. His eyes lingered against Jungkook's young form; they had been holding hands. Jimin— Jimin couldn't bear to look at it.

Yeontan was snoozing in his little dog bed, the hyper dog oblivious to the occurring drama. Hana, Jimin's white snake familiar, remained sunbathing by the window sill. Her sharp, snake-like eyes opened as the two witches entered the room. She remained silent, but she didn't need to say much to show her disapproval.

Taehyung plopped himself down at the edge of the bed, his elbows resting on his thighs while he dropped his head in his hands. Seeing Taehyung so depleted unsettled Jimin to the core, his pace slightly hurried as he sat down beside him.

"It didn't go well, huh?" Jimin hummed, beginning to rub gently at Taehyungs hunched over back. There was a silence that followed, a pause as Taehyung breathed, focusing solely on the rhythmic pattern of Jimin's soothing hand.

"It didn't go at all," Taehyung muttered, voice hoarse.

Ah.

Jimin sighed, shoulders dropping as the little flicker of hope he had built dimmed. Taehyung had cried, when exactly he wasn't sure, most likely on the way back to the apartments.

"Hyung…" Taehyung strained, the small plea halting Jimin's actions and line of thought at the sheer—grief? That Taehyung's tone carried. It broke his heart more than it already was.

"Oh, oh honey, come here." He ushered, pulling Taehyung into his arms. A tight hold, reassuring in the sense of telling Taehyung that he was there, that I'd be okay, and that he's got him. So Taehyung fell. Small sounds, muffled by the wool of his sweater, soon became louder. More unkempt, earnest.

"Hyung—hyung… he, he sounded—" Taehyung choked and sniffled as he tried pulling himself together. "He sounded so sad."

Jimin shut his eyes, inhaling sharply. None of them had been spared from Jungkook's distraught gaze, from the disappointment and anguish encapsulated within those familiar eyes. They had deserved it. That much was clear, but still. Seeing it, hearing it, Jimin had wanted to drop to his knees. Bind his soul—more than it was already bound—to Jungkook and his own lifelong pursuit towards redemption.

"Like—like the thought of us was something to grieve over." Taehyung's wavering voice cracked, prompting Jimin's own eyes to begin watering.

Because that was his bunny, they were talking about. His companion from day one was that sweet, shy, silly mess he had bumped into in elementary school. The boy with the kindest eyes and most amazing abilities, his little prince, "Eomma says I can't be friends with nulls, Minie." How Jungkook never became like his parents was a true wonder, but he didn't. Not when they snuck off campus during recess or when they took turns pushing each other on the swings. Jungkook had always had a heart of gold, even when he was scared and riddled with insecurities; "Jungkookie, see this red string here? It means we'll be friends forever, forever and ever! Nothin' will change that, my eomma says we're lucky. So let's be lucky, k'ay? It's our lucky ribbon."

Glancing down at his pinky, Jimin lingers on the five vibrant, red knots around his finger. The sixth, pale and washed out, only remained visible for a few inches before fading out into the air. But Jimin knows it’s still there—now more than ever.

"We—we have to fix this hyung."

Jimin nodded, gaze fixed and determined as he cupped Taehyung's cheeks. Using his thumbs to gently swipe away the offending tears, he looked into the scared eyes of his lover. The past week had been an utter cluster-fuck of emotions, a cruel combination of pure elation, utter grief, and guilt, and now fear. Because what if Jungkook never forgave them? It was possible. Despite how the singular thought tore at his heart, it was reasonable, too.

They could lose him again.

No.

No, Jimin wouldn't let that happen. He couldn't. Jungkook might never love them again, might never trust nor care for them. But he'd be there. In Jimin's life, in Taehyungs.

"We will."

Taehyung looked into his eyes, all too vulnerable and teary. Looking towards him for guidance, and Jimin felt all too misplaced. This was Namjoon's job, or Jin's, maybe even Hoseok's, when the situation called for it. They were all too adept at taking control, leading. But for tonight, he'd take Taehyung's hand and hopefully lead him towards a brighter future.

"We found each other again. That's all we need." He mused, voice hushed and soft as he leaned down and pressed a kiss against Taehyung's furrowed brow.

"We'll have forever to get it right."

Jungkook tucked his hands into his pockets as he walked, the warm coat doing little to keep the chill away. Mornings were always chilly around this time of year, just as autumn began to creep around. Jungkook couldn't really tell when his body was being affected by the outside temperatures anymore, considering how his limbs were gradually growing colder each week; breezes like these didn't really bother him anymore. A loud, exaggerated yawn pulled him from his thoughts. Glancing to his side, he smiled at Yugyeom's bundled-up form. A thick, knitted scarf hung around his neck, chin nestled securely in the warm material. The witch had never been much of a morning person—neither was he honestly, but nowadays he couldn't get more than five hours of consecutive sleep.

Originally, Jungkook intended to stop by for only a day, fix his Halmoni up, and hop onto the next available train. But having Yugyeom here somewhat derailed his original, concise plan. With Yugyeom by his side, he couldn't help but want to show his friend everything he'd been up to and what he'd built for himself since leaving. Perhaps he was a little biased towards Jung-so, considering how the little witch had somehow nestled itself into his heart during their sessions.

Iseul had stopped by the bookstore this morning, only there to briefly return a book she had borrowed. They didn't usually rent out books, but Chae-won had as much of a bleeding heart as he did, trying to support Iseul and Jung-so as much as she could. Which is how Jungkook ended up offering another tutoring session. Considering that it was a weekend and wouldn't conflict with the kids' schedule, Iseul readily agreed.

"Since when do you like tutoring so much?"

Yugyeom's voice had cut through the comfortable silence, tone a little fussy from being wrangled out of bed before ten.

Shrugging, Jungkook tried recounting exactly when he had grown to like teaching so much. He had grown up with all kinds of tutors; attending a school was mainly used by his parents as a form of socialization, a little something required by law, a hassle. If the teachings could be affordable by mainstream magicals, then they simply weren't good enough for his parents. Resulting in his rigorous schedule of six hours of public schooling only to come back home to be tutored privately; he only ever saw his parents for mealtimes.

A blessing, really.

Jungkooks upbringing was rigorous, strict, disciplined, and—well, lonely.

Amongst missed birthdays and solitary dinners, Jungkook could account for two people who made his otherwise desolate childhood bearable. Jimin, a bundle of confident sunshine he met in elementary school, and Soo Choi. A middle-aged witch who began tutoring Jungkook long before he presented, before he could even materialize his mana enough to actually do something. But where his parents lacked, shrouded in the depths of their prejudice, there was the kindness of Soo Choi. A person Jungkook deems responsible for preventing him from becoming a replica of his parents, teaching him about magicals with an openness he hadn't found or seen before.

Jungkook found himself wanting to be, in the presence of Jung-so and other uneducated children, someone that Soo Choi had been to him. A place of education, unbiasedness, and kindness. A person who taught magic, who could make all things mana, spells, and changes less scary, more natural.

Letting out a small hum, he glanced at Yugyeom. "Probably because of Mrs. Choi."

Nodding, Yugyeom smiled. It was a fond smile, followed by a warm gaze Jungkook couldn't stand to look at for longer than needed. Yugyeom chuckled, cheeky bastard, clearly amused with Jungkook's flusteredness.

"What?" Jungkook muttered, not enjoying the giggling at his expense.

"Oh nothin.'" Yugyeom snickered, the witch still clearly amused. "Although I'd love to see you teach, I don't really get why I'm here. You know how I did back in school."

Jungkook nodded. Yugyeom had never been someone who let others or work stress him out. Jungkook still couldn't get over how Yugyeom had actually managed to pass their history class; considering how often he slept during those times, must've been witchcraft—considering it now, it probably was.

"Remember Jung-so, the kid I told you about?" Yugyeom nodded, recalling one of their first catch-up sessions in the lab during inquiry day.

"Well, he's the kid I'm tutoring now. He just recently presented as a witch, and his mom Isuel isn't a magical. The Dads out of the picture, and you know I can't perform magic. I was hoping you could show off a little, being able to see someone manifest some mana, meet someone who was a gifted witch too, might help ease Jung-so into things a little better." Jungkook explained, looking ahead as he watched the little cafe come into view. Cars passed them on the street, the clouded sky making the surroundings appear dull.

Jungkook might not be able to relate personally to the struggles of gifted witches, but he was aware that they existed. Young children overwhelmed with their new abilities, uncertain how to proceed and finding the concept of magic unnerving. Jung-so was like that, a gifted witch originating from a mundane household. Unsure what being a witch meant, what that made him.

Jimin had been like Jung-so.

And he had helped him back then, too.

"God, you're such a softy." Yugyeom huffed, smile fond as he playfully nudged Jungkook's arm as they walked.

The cafe carried its usual warmth, a welcomed contrast to the otherwise freshness of the morning. Jungkook had only been away for about two weeks now, but seeing the familiar, cream-toned walls made him feel a little nostalgic. Jungkook could never recall a single day when the cafe wasn't filled, couples laughing, the occasional office worker chatting on the phone, the consistent calling of names. Despite the sheer number of customers, the place never felt rushed or hectic, something Jungkook ought to give the staff the most credit for.

"Jungkook! I was beginning to think you switched cafes on us!" Han chuckled, making him flush a little. He hadn't come here that often, only every other day—and for tutoring, of course. Yugyeom, as if sensing his embarrassment, elbows him in the arm with a chuckle.

"Hi Han, I actually left for my seventh trial, I'm only here to visit my Halmoni." Jungkook explained, receiving a simple nod from the barista. "I could've sworn I saw little Jung-so in the back; two hot chocolates then?" Han mused, but before Jungkook could agree, Yugyeom budged in.

"And a coffee, please!"

Han wrote down the order while he paid, Yugyeom waiting by the counter as Jungkook went to greet Jung-so. The thought of the little kid being on his own for too long unnerved him, even though he trusted the cafe—and Han, who always kept a watchful eye over the kid—he didn't exactly trust others.

Jung-so was sitting in one of the corner booths, slightly hunched over a book as he waited. Legs kicking out idly underneath him, he was the restless sort. But he wasn't crying this time, so Jungkook considered that a win.

"Hey, kiddo, miss me?" He mused, prompting Jung-so to look up. The kid smiled, all crescent-eyed and flashing dimples, completely unaware of how it tugged on his heartstrings. Jungkook didn't expect it, nor did he expect the boy to hurriedly hop out of the booth and crush him in a hug, small arms wrapped around his waist and head nuzzled into his lower stomach.

Chuckling, Jungkook crouched down and pulled the boy into his arms before picking him up and spinning them in a short circle. It strained his already sore arms, but Jung-so was laughing, and that's all he needed. Lowering him back down, he couldn't really suppress his own smile. "You make it seem like I was gone for forever," he teased before ruffling Jung-so's already messy hair.

"You were." Jung-so huffed, sliding back into the booth. Jungkook followed, sliding in beside the boy. It was their usual spot, formed in a little semi-circle against one of the cafe's corners.

"God, you two even look alike. Jungkook-ah, you sure your dad isn't keeping a secret from you?" Yugyeom chimed in, holding three drinks in a little carrier carton as he walked over and set it down. Glancing at the labels, he distributed the drinks accordingly. Jung-so shied away a little, glancing at Jungkook apprehensively.

Jungkook laughed at the joke, rolling his eyes at the thought. He wouldn't mind it, having a brother and all. But Jung-so and he had already formed that kind of bond; they didn't need to be blood-related. “Jung-so, this is Yugyeom. He's a good friend of mine!"

Yugyeom bent down so he was at eye level with the kid, holding out his hand and shaking it eagerly when Jung-so held out for a hand-shake. "Good to finally meet you, little man! I'm Jungkook's friend—well, more like his bestie. Now, someone's told me you presented as a witch. How exciting!"

Jung-so nodded, a little more shyly but less reserved than before. Jungkook smiled, ushering them back to sit at the booth. He nudged the hot chocolate towards the kid, smiling at the polite thank you he got in return.

"Jung-so, I brought Yugyeom here because he's a witch too." Jungkook explained, watching the kid's face light up. That was good, really good, actually. It was important for him to help Jung-so develop a good relationship with all things pertaining to magic and witches; it's a community that he could fall back on in the future.

"Mhm, I sure am!" Yugyeom mused, smiling gently.

One of the things Jungkook always admired about Yugyeom was how quickly the witch adapted to different people. This wasn't necessarily surprising, considering that Yugyeom was an empath.

"I’m also a gifted witch!"

Jung-so nodded, staring at Yugyeom for a second, then two, then three before turning to Jungkook:

"Whats a gifted witch?" He asked.

Jungkook chuckled, watching Yugyeom blink a little as he recovered.

"Well, magicals are categorized into two parties. For witches, it's between gifted and born witches. So, if both your parents are witches and you exhibit magical traits you're a born witch." He explained, before pointing to himself. "Take me as an example, I'm a born witch. I come from a long line of powerful witches."

He paused, waiting for Jung-so to nod before continuing. "Gifted witches—" he continued, pointing at Yugyeom. "Like Yugyeom over here, are like you. Who don't necessarily have witching parents or grandparents. Sometimes, your great-great-great grandma was a witch and was able to harvest mana. Just enough to collect traces but not enough to use it. If she had mana, then her kid would likely inherit some too but remain dormant." Jungkook explained, grabbing a pen and paper and jotting down a simple family tree while he talked.

"If there isn't enough mana in the body, it'll remain dormant. So it can easily pass through generations unnoticed, but it'll eventually accumulate and present itself through another generation."

"Like me?" Jung-so mumbled.

Jungkook nodded, "Mhm, like you and Yugyeom. Somewhere down the line, which can span across centuries. One of your ancestors began accumulating mana."

"I know it can be a little startling, suddenly finding out you're a witch and all. Trust me, kiddo, I've been there." Yugyeom reassured, smiling kindly. Jung-so nodded, although it was obvious he still felt unsure.

"Wanna see a magic trick?" Yugyeom piped up, no doubt sensing the slight dread through Jung-so's aura. He grabbed his cup of coffee, peeling back the lid and watching the steam rise through the air. Yugyeom kept focus, beginning to slightly twirl his index finger. Suddenly, through the cloud of steam, two silhouettes emerged. Dancing a small waltz around the cup, going higher and further into the air.

Jungkook watched, smile crooked and unrefined as Jung-so's eyes widened with a natural curiosity.

"What's important," he began, sipping at his own drink. Is that you remember that magic is only scary if you don't understand it—I know it's hard too. I mean, we witches carry extraordinary talents. To the untrained eye, that can be frightening."

Slowly, as the steam began fading into the air, the two dancing silhouettes followed. It was a pretty trick; Jungkook had to give Yugyeom that. Although it looked fairly simple, it wasn't necessarily easy. They had both learned how to manipulate matter during their third year. Solids were much easier to mold than gas, especially when it came to such refined forms as a couple dancing, a realistic waltz at that.

"But gifted witches are called gifted because—well, that's just it. Magic is a gift, something special." Jungkook smiled, gently patting Jung-so on the head. He wondered vaguely what kind of witch he was himself. Without magic, it was hard to carry the title without carrying what made him that. For the first time since cutting off his own mana, for sacrificing his own gift in exchange for a little more time. Did he feel like he had actually lost something.

It was all just survival back then. He was competent enough not to need magic on a day-to-day basis. But seeing Yugyeom, the flying books within Veil's library, the familiars, the conscious shears and watering cans in the gardens, the constellations he'd cast onto his ceilings—it was all gone. Jungkook had given it all up. All for the sake of a few more days, months; he wasn't really sure.

Seeing Jung-so discover the wonders of magic and how pretty it could really be, he wanted the kid to love it, to adore the craft as much as he did. He hoped that if all else failed and he truly did pass away, he'd be remembered for everything he loved because there was so much he cherished about this world.

But he still had time. Eleven more months, that's all he needed.

"Hyung, I thought witches weren't allowed to perform in public?"

Yugyeom began cackling, slapping his knee as Jungkook glared at him. "Oh hun, trust me. That's technically true, but you won't find a single person actually adhering to that rule!" This time, Jungkook reached over and nudged Yugyeom's arm.

"Yah! You're giving the kid bad ideas—Jung-so, don't listen to Yugs here. Follow the rules please."

"Easy for you to say! Hmm, shall we talk about what you were like growing up, Kookie?"

Jungkook narrowed his eyes, daring Yugyeom to continue. Which he did: "So, our Jungkookie here was actually quite the delinquent—"

"Lies and slander! Jung-so, avoid eye contact and cover your ears!"

Jung-so laughed, "I already know! Hyungs Halmoni told me about it. Said you were a little riff-raff back in the days!"

Jungkook gaped. Covering his heart as if he'd been shot, mouth open and eyes wide. "My Halmoni? My sweet—" Yugyeom's laughter interrupted his little spiel.

"Aish, I grow to love that woman more by the day." Yugyeom heaved, wiping away his tears. It took them a few more minutes to calm down before Jung-so went on with his endless supply of questions.

What was allowed, what wasn't. Chatting about their own experiences with presenting, cracking jokes here and there. Jungkook looked on as Yugyeom pulled Jung-so further out of his shell, the sight warming his heart.

"Hyung, why does Yugyeom have more strings on his fingers than I do?"

Jungkook paused, his eyes pulling together as he lowered his now empty cup. He glanced up, briefly meeting Yugyeom's surprised expression. "You—" he cleared his throat before sitting up. "You can see Yugyeoms soul strings?"

Now it was Jung-so's turn to look confused, tilting his head. "Of course, most people have them. But Yugyeom has six, and I only have four."

Jungkook nodded, it wasn't necessarily unheard of for people to be able to see soul strings. It was just a level of insight that most people did not share, it was rare of sorts.

"Ah, Jung-so, being able to see soul strings isn't common." He avoided the word normal, the last thing he wanted to do here is make Jung-so feel like he was unusual. Too many neglected witches went through that feeling, and he couldn't help but want to shield the boy from it.

"It isn't?" Jung-so mumbled hesitantly.

"It's not bad!" Yugyeom hurriedly chimed in, unable to bear the sight of Jung-so deflating. It would've made him feel smug at how quickly he got wrapped around the kid's finger, but he wasn't any better off.

"Witches can have affinities. Things they're really good at naturally, like unlocking special abilities that others can't. For example, I'm a green witch. It's an encompassing term for someone who has affinities towards nature—all things living. Some people have water affinities or light affinities." He went on, gesturing with his hand before pointing at Yugyeom.

"Affinities don't have to be elemental or physical; for instance, Yugyeom over here has empath affinities. He can decipher auras and emotions far better than the regular witch." Yugyeom smiled, making a little heart with his pointed and thumb.

"So what does that make me?" Jung-so asked, still sounding tentative.

The two older witches shared a brief glance, "Being able to see soul strings is most common amongst seers, hun." Yugyeom explained gently.

"What's a seer?"

"Someone who can glance into the future, who can look into people more than the average person." Jungkook tended to stay away from seers, mostly from his own eerie encounters. There's something about getting a hollow look from a stranger that just feels unsettling; he just didn't like it.

"So, I'll be able to tell the future?" Jung-so went on, sounding more excited.

Sighing, Jungkook hated having to burst the kids idyllic bubble. "Not exactly, Seers can't really control their affinities. Glancing into the future comes in short visions that you can't control—" Rising his hand, he hushed Jung-so before continuing.

"I know that sounds a little scary, but that's why magicals like you go to a special school. You'll find out what affinities you carry there, and the system will cater to your needs." Jung-so nodded, mulling over the new information.

"So no one else can glance into the future?"

Yugyeom sighed, a fond kind of sigh. It didn't surprise Jungkook, the kid never ran out of questions. Of course he wouldn't, this was all new and scary for him. Right now, he was just focusing on laying down the fundamentals for Jung-so so that when he finally transferred to a proper school or academy, he wouldn't feel too far out in the deep end. It felt like his responsibility.

"Well, yes and no." Yugyeom chimed in.

Jungkook rolled his eyes, continuing to elaborate. "Most magic can be learned. It's just different when you have an affinity for a certain subject. For example, some people can learn the art of future telling with tools like tarot cards and other mediums. But it will never compare to what seers are able to do. Someone with a water affinity cannot be compared to someone who focuses on spells manipulating liquids. You can study spell mastery all your life and still be different from a grimoire witch." Jungkook wished he'd have some glasses; he could push them up right now and look all proper. If his past self could see him now—he'd probably be stunned. After all, how could he have gone from a spray-painting delinquent to an eloquently educated tutor?

It would've satisfied his parents; somehow, that thought made him sick.

"Yeah! It's kinda like comparing a fish with a swimmer! You can learn how to swim, but you ain't nothin' like a fish." Sighing, Jungkook couldn't help but laugh.

"Eloquently put, Yugs."

"I'm a natural."

Walking from the cafe, Jung-so held Jungkook's sleeve as they walked. Jungkook walked closest to the road, the kid in the middle and Yugyeom to the left. It was cute how the kid felt too "grown" to hold his hand and instead opted for his sleeve.

They had spent another half an hour chatting, going over what they had already talked about and wrapping up any lingering questions.

"Hyung?"

"Hm?"

"What can't I see your soul strings?"

Pausing, Jungkook looked down at his pinky. The six red knots rested heavily against the skin, and yet, somehow, they remained as feathery as always.

"Do you not have soulmates?" Jung-so sounded sad; why was he sad?

A small chuckle pushed past his lips, mostly to usher away the grave expression taking hold on Jung-sos otherwise soft features. "I have soulmates; six actually. You're so young; don't expect your affinity to show up clearly all the time. It's unreliable so early on, you won't be able to see everyone's soul strings."

Jung-so pouted, nodding his head as they walked. It was still afternoon, and although Jungkook wouldn't have minded spending the entirety of his free day teaching Jung-so, the kid needed a break, and so did Yugyeom, who had been rather eager this morning to walk around Busan for a bit.

"Hyung?"

"Hmm?"

"How come we even have soulmates?"

Yugyeom smiled. It was such an innocent question. It was clear why Jungkook had taken to such a kid, and although Yugyeom didn't know what Jungkook was like throughout his childhood himself, he could see some similarities.

"It's a long story. It dates so far back that it's more myth than fact, really." Jungkook hummed. It didn't feel right to explain the gushy tale about soulmates. Even if he tried remaining natural, a quick glance between him and Yugyeom made his discomfort clear.

"Have you ever heard of The Three Fates?" Yugyeom asked, taking the lead here.

"No, were they the first soulmates?"

Yugyeom shook his head, glancing down at his own tied-up pinky. "No, they weren't. The Three Fates were Goddesses in Greek mythology; together, they controlled the destiny of both gods and humans. One Goddess works as the spinner, determining a person's birth. The second was the allotter: she measured the length of a person's life. The third was the unturnable: she was responsible for cutting one's string with her shears." Yugyeom explained dutifully, not short on the theatrics as he acted out, spinning some thread before stretching it out and finally snipping it.

"Okay, but what does that have to do with soulmates?" Jung-so asked, lowering his hand to hold onto Jungkooks hand properly.

"Well, back then, everyone only had one string, their own. The strings connecting us to our soulmates now are still the same as back then, an extension of our own souls—the same ones The Three Fates would've woven and cut for us," Jungkook explained. It felt easier when he was just stating supposed facts.

"Exactly! So, one day, Atropos The Unturnable ventured to earth. They say she met a kind stranger on her path, one who was hospitable and genuine, who offered her water and bread from their bag and shelter for the night." They crossed the street, nearing the convenience store.

"To reward their kindness, Atropos bestowed upon the traveler a favor should the time come." Yugyeom finished, ignoring the teasing look he got from Jungkook.

"All it took was some water and bread?" Jung-so exaggerated, making them laugh. "Hospitality was very important back then," Jungkook reminded.

"Anyways, the traveler disappeared. Years later, he came back to Atropos ready to exchange their favor." It was a well-known myth, considering that soulmates were the topic and all.

"What was it? Did they ask for a soulmate?"

If Jungkook had a penny for every question Jung-so asked—he wouldn't be rich, but he'd have quite a few pennies at this point.

"No, the traveler had a lover. Sickened and weak, the traveler sought out Atropos. Realizing that their lover's string would soon be cut, they begged the Goddess to pardon their dying mate."

Jungkook could relate to that desperation. Although he was assured of his capabilities, that finding a cure couldn't be impossible, that nagging urgency and despair with each passing month; Jungkook knew he wasn't above begging. Hells, he'd probably kneel in front of a goddess too if it meant he could stick around for a bit longer.

"Atropos could not simply grant someone pardon however; and instead offered the traveler a compromise. She'd cut both their strings and tie them together, binding their souls and saving their beloved." Jungkook felt like Yugyeom was a natural storyteller. He had heard the same tale several times before while growing up. Still, Yugyeom treated it like a performance, capturing both his and Jung-so's attention while he talked.

"But Gods aren't exactly well…the fairest. By binding the two mortal souls together, they were bound. If one perished, the other would as well." Jungkook knew gods still existed to this day, but they were rare. Demigods were really the only ones still spotted every once and again, from what he understood was that they preferred to lay low. Blend in. But boredom breeds a need for entertainment, no matter the costs.

"Which is why it's called soulmates!" Yugyeom finished, clapping his hands together. "Soul because the souls are tied together, and mate, referring to one's beloved!" Jung-so smiled, walking through the convenience store's doors.

"So if one of my soulmates dies, I die?"

Jungkook chuckled, letting go of the kid's hands before ruffling his hair. Grinning at the cute huff and pouty expression he got in return. "No kiddo, it's just an old myth. You'll be fine."

"Hyung, how come I've never met your soulmates before?" Jung-so pouted, jutting out his tongue. Just as dramatic as Yugyeom, he remarked silently.

"Well, they don't live here." He hummed, keeping his tone soft and leveled. He didn't want to think about it, about them. All these stories of love, sacrifices, loss, and happy endings were tying his stomach into a knot.

Jungkook had loved.

He had sacrificed.

And he had lost.

So, where was his happy ending?

"Jung-so, listen to me for a moment." He breathed, kneeling down as he grabbed both of the kid's hands. "Soulmates can be wonderful. But they are just people, too. What matters most is how they treat you. Your happy ending does not lie in the hands of another, do you hear me? You deserve to be treated with kindness, respect, and love." He smiled, giving Jung-so’s hands a small squeeze before letting go. He tapped his nose, smiling gently. "Don't ever let someone tell you otherwise, got it?"

Jung-so nodded, but his lips tugged downwards for a moment before he pushed to hug Jungkooks waist.

"Hyung, you'll come and visit me often, right?"

Jungkook wasn't too sure. He'd be busy, more than he already was with his inquiry. Time was ticking, and he still hadn't found a solid lead yet. He needed to work more, research more, study more, the list went on. He didn't have time to visit as often as he was, even if he wanted to. He couldn't promise Jung-so those frequent lessons anymore.

"Hey, don't sound so sad. I'll come whenever I can, okay? If you ever need me, your eomma has my number. You can talk to me whenever you want and whenever you need something." Jung-so nodded, but he looked more upset than before. Jungkook knew that Jung-so could read between the lines, that this would be a longer goodbye than before.

"Promise?"

"Promise."

Leaving the convenience store after dropping Jung-so off felt disheartening. It was always rough leaving the kid, especially when there was still so much to cover. Would Jung-so be okay?

"I think the biggest lie you ever tried selling was the concept of you being an asshole." Yugyeom suddenly chimed in, breaking the silence. "You're a real sweetheart, Jungkook. You might not realize it yourself, but you always go the extra mile for people. Teach the lessons no one had taught you; that's admirable, Kookie."

Awe.

Jungkook flushed, he wasn't really used to such praises. It meant so much more coming from Yugyeom; it felt genuine. What should he say to that?

"A twat maybe, but definitely not an asshole." Yugyeom remarked cheerily, clearly teasing as he grinned mischievously at Jungkook.

"Yugyeom!"

Laughter filled the air, the sun beginning to peek through the parting clouds. "Come on now Kooks, let's go shopping now!"

Turns out that going shopping with Yugyeom was hard.

The day had stretched on seamlessly as the two had stopped to eat lunch in a nook-in-the-wall restaurant, the type that was clearly run by an elderly married couple. The woman taking the orders before shouting them towards the back, a man skillfully preparing all forty-two dishes himself. At this point Jungkook had already taken Yugyeom to a few malls, splurging a little on his friends wardrobe, not without a little struggle of course and much to his own chagrin had been forced to try on countless items as well.

Jungkook should have called it quits after eating; he had already felt a little rusty this morning. Joints hurting just a little more than usual, his head feeling just a little more foggy and tighter. He could tell from experience that today should have been a resting, lay-low kind of day. It was a kind of foresight one only really got through overestimating oneself, but Yugyeom hadn't been in Busan before. Maybe, just maybe, he wanted to show his friend his little part of the world.

The pretty side. Away from all the melancholy shrouding him.

Which is why Jungkook couldn't help but add another stop to their sight-seeing trip. "One of the best places to go for magicals in cities like Busan are markets like the Laminel Market." He explained, pushing past a metal gate. A little flash of heat prickled against his skin, a tell-tale sight of passing through a magical barrier.

"Yeah, I haven't seen as many magicals in the city as I do in the suburbs." Yugyeom said, closing his eyes briefly as he walked past the barrier.

"I mean, it's a lot harder to navigate a city with large wings or horns," Jungkook added, which got a shrug from Yugyeom before the witch paused and took in the sights of the market.

Laminel was bustling with an array of magicals twisting and wandering around the lined stalls. Stalls and tents, crafted from materials ranging from spider silk to moonbeams, lined the meandering cobblestone paths. A symphony of otherworldly languages made the market hectic, but compared to other markets, that was rather normal. The air was filled with enticing aromas, whether from a wild assortment of herbs, teas, or other mystical treats from food vendors.

Markets like these were the place to go if one needed any and all things magical; vendors, who themselves could be vampires, shifters, faeries, or witches, sell everything from cursed artifacts and ancient tomes to rare ingredients and flunky talismans.

“Wow,” Yugyeom stammered. Eyes flicking over the surroundings as he walked through the market with Jungkook. The overarching sky was cast in a perpetual starry sky, a neat trick to make the bazaar more accessible to the nocturnally inclined. A pair of witches question and ogle a selection of simmering potions. Across the market, a dragon in human form haggles over a piece of meteorite.

Further down, a group of mischievous pixies flit around selling maps to "hidden realms" to non-magicals. To the side, a faerie musician plays a peppy melody on a lute, captivating a crowd of diverse magicals.

It was busy. It was hectic and so so magical.

Strings of fairy-lights hang from stall to stall, people conversing happily as they walked by. It was natural, a safe space for everyone who entered. Although humans were the most likely to get scammed in a place like this, they weren't necessarily unwelcomed as long as they behaved.

"It's pretty, isn't it?" Jungkook teased, smiling at Yugyeom's slightly awestruck expression. The sheer auras must be a little overwhelming for the empath, but there was always a level of comfort when being surrounded by one's own kind like this. Being in a city like Busan left little room to properly indulge in all things magical; bazaars like this always seemed to refill that depleting battery.

"It's so lively. I heard about the city markets, but I didn't think they'd be like this." Yugyeom vaguely gestured to all around him, eyes lingering on the jewelry stalls.

"I get Halmonis tea from here, and I'm friends with the vendor."

"Let me guess, the vendor's an oldie?"

Jungkook passed, tilting his head as he glanced at Yugyeom. "How'd you know?"

Yugyeom laughed, shaking his head incredulously at Jungkook's obliviousness. "Seriously! You're found fodder for them! A well mannered, polite little witchy boy who needs some affection."

Jungkook paused, huffing as he looked away. They walked for a moment longer, his arms crossed over his chest as he pouted. "I'm not little…"

Walking through the market was hectic, especially since Yugyeom felt the need to stop at every second stall they passed. But there was a sweetness to watching his friend converse so freely with others, laughing with vendors, trying a multitude of rings and necklaces. The occasional hat, shall, or other nicknack wasn't spared either. It felt strangely normal to be here with Yugyeom, and it still gave Jungkook a bit of whiplash to think they had only just reunited two weeks ago. It felt like they had never parted. A part of him understood why leaving Yugyeom had been a necessity and why he did it. But he also wished he never had; Yugyeom ushered away loneliness within him he hadn't even been aware he had.

A sudden sharp throb against his forehead made him hesitate, his smile turning into a poorly concealed grimace as he let this new onslaught pierce against his skull. Jungkook knew he'd get a headache today, and most of his symptoms were accompanied by headaches. Like a headband far too tight, the pressure increasing throughout the day.

His heart squeezed painfully like a small dull contraction, leaving his chest sore. He lifted his hand, gently rubbing small circles into his chest. His little episodes were bearable, but with each passing week, they were bordering on downright painful. But Jungkook managed; he was used to this, and he had been warned about this. He knew that if he were to glance at his wrist now, those hauntingly familiar black veins would mar his skin again like an unwanted tattoo. Instinctively, he pulled the sleeves of his black puffer jacket down further.

"Jungkook—"

The earlier comfort in the market was gone, an unpleasant shiver running down his spine like the shadowy ghost of a hand. It was too loud, too busy, too hectic—

"Jungkook?"

His gaze snapped back to Yugyeom, blinking once, twice—again until he could focus back on who was in front of him.

“Jungkook, are you okay?” Yugyeom asked, skeptical gaze wandering across his tense frame.

No.

No, he felt awful.

"Yeah, I'm good. Got a little lost in thought there, I'm still trying to find proper source material for my research y'know?" Word vomiting wasn't exactly a fair way to avoid confrontation, but Jungkook didn't have it in him to properly lie and make an excuse for himself.

"Thornvine is good and all, but its potency decreases after introducing it to air." Jungkook paused, ignoring the confused expression from Yugyeom. "Of course, we could put it into an airtight container but the nitrogen, oxygen, and argon would still find a way to interact with the medicinal herb whenever used."

"Jungkook—"

"Thornvine is a purifier, but it detoxifies the entire body. Considering that the mana is what is actually corrupted, would the thornvine root potentially strain the remaining body?"

"Jungkook!!"

Jungkook paused, mouth shutting with a small snap as Yugyeom moved in front of him. "Breath, okay?" Stable, unwavering eyes met his, and Jungkook found himself unable to do anything but breathe. Yugyeom had a very stern voice if he needed it.

"We were talking about rings, when did you get to thornvine roots again? Jungkook-ah, I find your work ethic admirable and I understand— the pressure you're under. But balance is important, yeah?" Yugyeom explained, clear and direct. Jungkook nodded, exhaling slowly as he calmed down. He'd rather get scolded than have his friend worried, Yugyeom was enjoying the market after all. He didn't want to be the one to cut that time short.

"Okay, sorry." He breathed, sporting a weak smile.

Yugyeom stared at him a little longer, clearly still skeptical about something, before letting it go with a sigh. Jungkook grabbed his hand, giving it a small apologetic squeeze. "Let's go to that tea stall now, okay? They give out free samples."

Nodding, Yugyeom let him lead them through the crowds. Jia ran the stall with her sister, the two elderly fairies had a larger space compared to the others; small foldable chairs and desks littering the front for anybody wanting a cup of tea in person.

"Ah! Jungkookies back! Bora look—look !" Jia rushed, Bora—her sister—grabbed the dangling pair of glasses around her neck and quickly put them on. Clapping her hands together in joy, "and finally with some company too! Whose this, your boyfriend?"

Jungkook laughed, shaking his head as Yugyeom snickered. “No no, this is Yugyeom. An old friend of mine."

"Oh, how lovely. Sit sit! I'll make some tea." Jia ushered, waving them over to sit down. Jia was a very peppy woman, always adorned in far too many layers and patterns. A smaller but larger framed woman whose writs were always covered in large chunky jewelry. Bora was the opposite, a very tall and lean woman who wore monotone colors. Behind each of their backs were small fairy wings. Although Bora was more direct and brutally honest than Jia, both of them were sweethearts.

They both sat down after some thorough questioning, each being given a steaming cup of tea to enjoy as they talked. Jia and Bora both busy with other customers.

"Alright," Yugyeom announced as he set his cup down once he noticed Jungkook's thoughts straying again.

"Thornvine root loses its potency after exposing it to the air, right?" Jungkook was a little surprised by the change of topic, feeling a little bashful at his poor concealment. His head still ached, and his inflamed ribcage was begging for a warm heating pad at the moment.

"Yeah, it's complicated to prepare but durable. I can't use it if it loses its effectiveness during consumption either." He explained, thornvine root was the best herb he had found for his condition. "My theory is simple so far, thornvine is a strong antioxidant. It has long-lasting purifying qualities." He waited for Yugyeom's nod before continuing.

"If my mana is the subject of corruption, introducing a purifying agent could control or reduce the levels of toxicity." Jungkook wanted a cure—something to rid himself of this disease. But he was running out of time, and being able to develop a cure that would reduce his condition from fatal to chronic, then he considered that a momentary win.

"We could put a spell on it? A type of concealment spell to keep the air away." Yugyeom suggested, glancing at his teacup absentmindedly.

Jungkook shook his head, sighing sadly. "In theory, but no. If you put a spell on a consumable item, you'll also be consuming a small amount of mana. That could potentially develop into a catalyst for the condition."

Yugyeom nodded, frown deepening. Jungkook had gone through all of this before, developing a theory only to be proven wrong. The defeat grew worse the further on he went when hope was snatched out of his fingertips yet again. It breeds a hopelessness he'd like to spare Yugyeom from.

"Oh honey, you need to find yourself an azurelbloom!" Jia suddenly popped up beside Yugyeom, making the witch jump a little as he hurriedly grabbed his nearly spilt teacup.

Jungkooks brows furrowed, trying to recall the herb Jia was describing. "I've never heard of an azurelbloom before."

Jia hummed, gently tapping Yugeums head in a silent apology for spooking the boy. "The azurelbloom is very old, one of the few truly sentient flowers left on the planet. It was said—" Jia began, lowering her voice into a whisper to make the story sound more interesting. She pulled out a chair, inviting herself to sit down at the table with them.

"The flower was said to be used by the Gods."

Gods?

"Aish, don't believe any of that nonsense Jungkook." Bora muttered, dismissing the idea with her hand as he sat down at the last remaining chair, spooking Yugyeom once more. It made Jungkook stifle a snicker, the two sisters could be quite—sporadic.

"What?! The azurelbloom existed!” Jia argued, crossing her arms.

"Perhaps 500 years ago. You're feeding the kid a legend Jia, what Jungkook really needs to do is go find the Nereids." Bora objected, pushing up her narrow glasses.

"Nereids, as in, the water nymphs?" Yugyeom asked, still recovering from getting jumpscared—twice.

Bora nodded, waving around the closed fan she always carried with her. "Nereids pulled all kinds of things into the water with them if they were fond enough. They are masters at preservation; if they desired a daisy one day, they'd preserve it to never touch the depths of their springs. If they're able to keep air in, it's only fair to assume they'd be able to keep air out, too."

Jungkook nodded, finding a way to preserve the thornvine roots was his biggest obstacle at the moment. Perhaps if the Nereids showed him how, he'd be able to finally begin creating proper prototypes.

"That all said and good, but don't nymphs have an aversion to men?" Jia asked, frowning at the thought. "You're sending the boy out into danger!"

Bora scoffed at the accusation, "as if setting him out to hunt down an ancient, cognizant flower is any better."

"Well, it's better then—"

Jungkooks head pulsed, his fingers trembling underneath the table. He had a lot to think about, and yet, there was so little time. But he had a new lead, and that's all he needed.

Now, how the hell was he going to find a Nereid?

Come on…

A little more…

So close—

Jungkook gasped as the library's ladder began to slide to the left. He was leaning off towards the side, trying to reach a book on Ancient Greek folklore, or more specifically, nymphs. Unlike most magicals, who could simply summon the book down from the shelves where the library's encyclopedia stood on the podium, Jungkook—for several reasons—could not.

Perhaps he should have just climbed back down and shifted the ladder a little to the right, but it had been a long day, and he was still partially recovering from his trip to his Halmoni. So, he had been lazy and was now going to suffer the consequences of tasting the old carpeted flooring as the ladder continued to slide.

Closing his eyes, Jungkook briefly expected the impact to come as he inevitably lost his footing on the ladder as it stretched his form out. Gasping quietly—this was still a library, after all—Jungkook braced himself only to feel tingly?

Eyes snapping open, Jungkook shuddered as he shortly levitated in the air before being carefully lowered down. His feet touched the floor slowly, but the adrenaline still made him stumble. His savior's magic linger against his skin, like a subtle warm or fading caress.

But Jungkook could recognize that magic from anywhere, and he didn't even need to wonder who had saved him before turning around greeting Namjoon's worried expression.

"Did you hurt yourself, Jungkook-ah?"

Perhaps Jungkook would never get used to the sight of his old soulmates again. The library was a loose term for what Veils had to offer; it was more like a grand and ancient archive. Long, stretching bookshelves required sliding landers just to be able to access the top sections of the bookshelves. The middle of the library had long, heavy mahogany desks available for the students. However, small, shorter desks were also littered around along with comfortable seating for anyone simply trying to read.

Natural light seemed to flood the library, too. Windows lined the walls, filling the otherwise academic architecture with warmth. Namjoon stood before one of these windows, the light peeking around his silhouette and embracing his form. Jungkook hadn't taken the time to properly look over Namjoon, he had briefly glanced over him when moving in and during their last argument, but now Namjoon was before him and—and he looked beautiful.

Yeah, Jungkook would surely never get used to the sight.

There was a new sense of maturity in Namjoon's appearance, from the way his posture was straight yet still carried a certain mellowness. His face and features are now sharper and more defined. Six years had been a long time; somewhere along the way, all of them had gone from boys to adults. Of course, things would have changed. Jungkook just hadn't noticed it before, the intensity in Namjoons changed gaze.

His style alone had changed too; back in the academy, Namjoon had never strayed from the required uniform, but on holidays, the mandatory dress code wasn't enforced; Namjoon had still chosen to dress in rather formal, business-casual attire at most. Jungkook recalled, rather fondly, how Seokjin and Jimin had dedicated nearly an entire day to pepping up Namjoons wardrobe. They had hunkered down in Jimins and Taehyung's shared room, clothes spewn half-hazardously across the floor, across chairs and their beds, Namjoon forced to parade in front of the full-length mirror like a personal manikin as they tried discovering Namjoons preferences together. Hopefully to stray from his interrogation-like style and more of a casual academic style. Their day hadn't been the most productive, but they did discover that Namjoon enjoyed certain styles over others. Jungkook had enjoyed that day, simply goofing off with his Hyungs and forcing his usually put-together Hyung in various styles and outfits. Having watched Namjoon be out of his element for once had quite the bonding factor for him, especially since Namjoon had struggled so immensely with showing his vulnerabilities. Vaguely, Jungkook couldn't help but wonder how much that has changed.

Even now, Namjoon wore a soft set of grayish-brown suit pants—some habits never die, it seems—tied at the waist with a black leather belt that matched the black turtleneck that hugged his body. A loose, large-sleeved gray cardigan ties the outfit neatly together. Namjoon appeared soft but still put together enough that Jungkook assumed would make Namjoon feel comfortable.

How could Namjoon simply look so effortless? It irritated him, mostly because he got caught staring. Who could blame him? He hadn't seen Namjoon in nearly six years; somehow, his eyes were still trying to catch up with the fact that Namjoon was real , that he was in front of him. Besides that, what frustrated him more was that within the past week, he had been asked the same question twice already by both Hoseok, Yoongi and now Namjoon as well.

Jungkook had hoped silently that they could all just go their separate ways after their argument. At least they could all just pretend to hate each other, right? Hating them was easy. Even if Jungkook's feelings stretched far beyond just hate, what was going on was far more complex than just simply being sad or angry. Hating them was the only way it didn't hurt.

Finally snapping out of his embarrassing stupor, Jungkook nodded. "Yep, just fine. Thanks." He murmured, looking around him to spot the book he had nearly taken the fall for lying on the floor. Bending down, he picked it up quickly. He wanted to leave. Lest he take a look into Namjoons all too familiar eyes. It was like taking a look at one's past while simultaneously glancing at one's own unachievable, daunting future. A world consisting entirely of what-ifs and had-beens.

It scared Jungkook how much he was still able to hurt for these people. For him.

"Well, anyways, I'll be going—"

Namjoon quickly stepped in front of him, stopping Jungkook from escaping the situation. Brows now furrowed in irritation, Jungkook took a step back. The string connecting them tugged lightly, almost unwilling to let him escape their unwelcome proximity.

"Namjoon, move."

"No, please—" Namjoon exhaled, brushing his hair back with his hand nervously. He glanced around before finally locking eyes with Jungkook. It nearly took the sickly witches breath away, they hadn't been that close before, Jungkook hadn't seen those sincere eyes since— since then.

It hurt.

“I’m sorry, Jungkook.” Namjoon began, frowning deeply. "For everything. Gods have mercy; there aren't enough ways for me to apologize to you for all that's happened. But also for our last argument, emotions were strung high and I—" Namjoon inhaled sharply, his exhale a little shaky. "You had every right to react the way you did, telling you to calm down was inappropriate of me. I spoke out of turn, and I'm sorry for that."

Ever the diplomat, Kim Namjoon. Jungkook thought bitterly. However, an apology was better than none, Namjoon's reaction had been out of turn, no matter how diplomatically refined his apology came across. Jungkook stood silently between the narrow aisle of bookshelves, staring at the man he had loved endlessly six years ago as he let his apology dangle heavily in the air. But Namjoon was right, there weren't enough apologies in the world for his anguish to subside.

Namjoons apology came too late.

The silence between them made Namjoon nearly sink in on himself, the older witches hand hesitated as it briefly lifted to reach out for Jungkook, halting mid air before dropping limply to his side. Eventually, it balled up.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Jungkook." Namjoons usually relaxed voice sounded wobbly, unsteady as the pleading witch swallowed.

And just like a dormant dragon, Jungkooks anger sprung back to life. Mostly because the sheer vulnerability within Namjoon's tone unsettled him, and another because the string connecting both him and Namjoon tugged weakly on his finger. He still wasn't used to that feeling; no, their bonds had remained devoid of any and all motion during the past years; feeling it move rattled him. There was something about seeing a shine to Namjoons's eyes that also irritated him. Why was Namjoon close to crying?—he had no right.

Jungkook had been the one hurt here.

The silence hanging between them was uncomfortable, nearly sparking from its intensity. None of them spoke, and with a resounding sigh, Jungkook's shoulders sank.

"I'm not sure what you want me to say, Namjoon-sii." Perhaps that was the most level-headed Jungkook could be at this moment, but there was a certain defeat in his tone.

"I can't say that everythings fine, that you are forgiven, that I don't hate you. None of that's true—" Namjoons remorseful gaze never left his, when had been the last time they had looked into each other's eyes? "—and you know that."

Again, the library's silence grew louder in its stillness. Namjoon seemed to be mulling over his own words, before he nodded. “I know that, Jungkook-ah. I'm not asking for your forgiveness," there was a pause, and Namjoon seemed to understand that asking for Jungkook's forgiveness was beyond him. That— that was something he wasn't allowed or able to request.

"All I'm asking for is a chance—"

"No." Jungkook cut him off, he wanted none of it.

"Please, just to talk." Namjoon continued, a level of desperation as he pleaded. "Jungkook, I haven't seen you in six years. Please, I know I'm in no place to make requests from you—"

"So don't."

Namjoon heaved a sigh, combing his hair back. "I've missed you."

Gods, what would Jungkook give to never hear Namjoon say that again. Such simple words, wrapping around his throat like a noose.

But Namjoon continued, his own draconic eyes mirroring the desolation and fear that this could be their last time talking. "Please, Jungkook. Let's talk—we need to—to talk."

Jungkook closed his eyes, inhaled sharply, and counted to ten until he opened them again. Keeping the wateriness at bay was futile, and he watched as Namjoon's hands itched to wipe his tears away. The elder stayed still, good.

With a deep breath, tone cold and filled with a pained contempt, he spoke, perhaps a final time with Namjoon:

"You didn't just walk out of a room that day, Kim Namjoon."

"You walked out on me."

There was a finality to Jungkooks tone, a bit unrecognizable to his own ears. But it needed to be said, Namjoon needed to hear it as much as he needed to say it.

"The moment you walked out that fucking door. You relinquished everything you had on me. You have no rights to my life anymore. So don't—" Jungkooks voice quivered, forcing the sickly witch to swallow down his rising emotions. "—don't ask me to talk with you, especially when we have nothing to say to each other."

Jungkook's hand tightened around the spine of the borrowed book, taking a few steps back.

"Not anymore," he murmured, giving a slight bow with a politeness associated with strangers. "Goodbye, Namjoon-sii." He whispered, holding onto a faulty sense of closure as he walked away.

The sharp sound of a book slamming shut, followed closely by an elongated sigh, broke the silence surrounding the laboratory. Glancing out the window, the sun had set hours ago; leaving the sky generously decorated by the stars. Yugyeom had left the lab hours ago, not without the firm prompting of the Im coven threatening to send over some of its members to collect Yugyeom personally (which they had); it had been cute. It comforted Jungkook how well-matched Yugyeom and the Im coven were. He glanced briefly at the empty food container on his desk, a gift from Jaebeom since Jungkook had made a habit of getting take-out since he didn't want to spend any more time in his shared apartment than necessary.

Originally, he had only accepted the meal under the guise that the coven had simply made too much for dinner last night, but this being the fifth day in a row, he was beginning to have some doubts.

It had been—what? Six days since Yugyeom and he had returned from Busan? It took nearly the entire train ride back to persuade him to tone down his fussing, and even now, Yugyeom focused more on his meals than ever. Apparently, he hadn't been all that subtle at the market.

Nearly every morning, Yugyeom would come in with a hot drink in his hand, usually a type of tea and a little snack. The teas, always kept warm by simple magic, contained some type of health benefit. Youngjae began joining them during the mornings, explaining a little more about each current selection. Jungkook later found out that Youngjae was the one actually making and brewing the tea specifically for Jungkook's health, each day selecting something different. One day, it had been a brew specific for his metabolism, another for his muscles or heart, and something generic and basic. Occasionally—and thanks to much discussion—the Ims would only bring him food for lunch every once in a while. Now that he was receiving food nearly every night for dinner, also accepting a clearly homemade meal for lunch just felt like too much. Too leeching.

So on the rare occasion where Jungkook allowed himself to be manhandled off towards lunch, he'd eat with Yugyeom and usually some of his other coven members. Depending on who had time at the moment, Yugyeom rarely ate alone. Jaebeom was the head of the coven, prompting him to be significantly more busy than the younger members. But Jungkook managed to spend nearly most of his week with the Ims, and it was—it was nice. Mark and Jackson made him laugh more times than he could count; Youngjae was easy to fall into conversations with, especially regarding his growing herb garden. Jinyoung had traveled a lot before finding his soulmates, and Jungkook loved hearing about the man's adventures. Jaebeom gave off a sense of authority that Jungkook generally avoided, but as the days flew by, Jaebeom grew softer and more doting. BamBam, as it turns out, is as much of a brat as Yugyeom, roping Jungkook into whatever they had planned for the day.

Glancing at the fresh bouquet of flowers in the corner by the windowsill, he couldn't help but wonder which of the Ims was responsible for replacing and filling the empty vase every two to three days. At first, Jungkook found the gesture cute for Yugyeom, if only the flowers hadn't been on his side of the lab each time.

The flowers didn't come from Youngjae's garden, so he could only assume it was another form of encouragement from the coven.

Spending time with the Ims felt natural and easy. Despite all their poorly concealed fussing, no one looked at him with those solemn expressions he absolutely loathed. Besides the teas, the inconspicuous push of vegetables, broths, and not-so-subtle additions of meats to his plate, he was treated like a person—not a tragedy but a friend.

It meant a lot to him.

A soft, subtle knocking disrupted his poor attempts at getting anything done. Glancing away from the flowers, he knew he'd have to revisit the topic of nymphs and nereids at a later date, most likely tomorrow.

The lab door opened before Jungkook could get up, glancing around to see if Yugyeom had forgotten his coat or phone again.

"What did you forget this time, Yugs?" Jungkook hummed sarcastically, turning to look at the door before halting. His amused smile slipped, taking in the sight of Jimin holding a large bouquet of flowers. A delicate assortment of purple hyacinths, tulips, sunflowers, and white lilies separated by the occasional green leaf or branch.

The bouquet was beautiful, as were the last few he'd received. They would've been even more beautiful if he hadn't just realized they had been coming from Jimin.

Jimin looked shocked, as if he wasn't expecting Jungkook to still be in the lab. Which was wild, considering that it was his laboratory. His eyes were wide, staring back at Jungkook in a slight stupor. He wore a white puffer jacket that was zipped up all the way, a gray scarf tucked snuggly around his neck. His cheeks and nose were dusted a light pink from the cold, the hand holding the bouquet a cold pinkish as well.

Jungkook seemed to snap out of his surprise first, clearing his throat as he mimicked his nonchalance. "What are you doing here?"

He sounded calm and insouciant. Jimins' presence bothered him, and so did the newfound knowledge that the bouquet of flowers he always spent time admiring each morning was from him. But it was well past midnight, and Jungkook had woken up early that morning to head to the library—his interaction with Namjoon still heavy on his shoulders. Working just helped in that regard, with each word he read and every page he studied. Devoting himself to what truly mattered helped sway the focus back to where it should be; his cure.

As if snapping out of a trance, Jimin perked up before tumbling over his words. "What?—OH, yes—yeah, I just umm… came here to replace the—uh, flowers." Jimin looked sheepish, which was rare considering that hardly anything made Jimin flush back in the day. At least, they hadn't been able to. Jimin had been open to, well— most things. Besides little embarrassing hiccups around strangers, hardly anything could deter Jimin's unwavering confidence back in the day.

Did—

Did Jimin consider him a stranger?

Somehow, between all the bitterness and sorrow he felt when looking at Jimin, the thought of being reduced to a simple stranger bothered him. Not when they had known each other for longer than they hadn't. Not when Jimin had meant everything to him.

"Ah," for a moment Jungkook wished he could string together an actual intellectual sentence. But it was hard to think around any of his old coven members, there was something about their mere presence that overwhelmed him with emotions. Clearing his throat, he glanced away bashfully as Jimin's gaze softened on him—fondly?

"I wasn't aware you were the one leaving those." Jimins lip quirked upwards at his words, the witch rolling on his feet before Jungkook let him in with a stunted nod. He walked over to the vase, carefully taking out the resting flowers. Besides a few petals here and there, the bouquet never managed to look withered before Jimin supposedly replaced it. He tended to them with a level of care that borderlined on affection, and Jungkook couldn't handle the thought of any of them, including Jimin, being affectionate with him.

"Yeah, I had wanted to talk to you after you got settled in. But when I got to your lab, you weren't there." Jimin explained, his voice composed and warm. He took the new bundle of flowers, removing its rapping carefully before summoning a quick set of pruning scissors and beginning to prep the ends. Jungkook sat still, unable to process the normality of Jimin's behavior.

Maybe Jungkook was just really tired. He still hadn't fully recovered from his episode in the market, or maybe he just hadn't slept enough. But having Jimin in his laboratory felt strange, and so did his warm, gentle tone. It was just so Jimin.

It had been years. Nothing about the man before him should still feel familiar.

"I just noticed how dull everything looked, y'know?" Jimin went on, skillfully beginning to arrange the set of flowers he bought into the vase.

"This is a laboratory, not a gallery, Jimin-ah." Jungkook retorted, crossing his arms.

Jimin laughed, lightheartedly and airily. Like the gentle music Jimin's laughter had always been, even with how soft and quiet it was now, it eased Jungkook's tense shoulders. After all these years, Jungkook still found himself so weak for Jimin.

A weakness he couldn't—shouldn't allow. This was about himself, his protection, his self-preservation, and yet, he couldn't bring himself to usher Jimin out of his sanctuary. He only lowered his head, picking at the soft fabric of his sweater.

"I just—" Jimin paused, hand trailing over the stem of a white Lilie. "Remembered how you used to like picking flowers every spring; the seasons are changing and all, but I thought you'd like a little color in here regardless." Sighing quietly, Jimin stepped back to admire his work. The flowers were arranged beautifully, even if Jungkook didn't want to admit it.

A silence stretched between them, lingering lonesomely. "This room gets a lot of light. So I thought sunflowers would look quite good in here." Jimin mused, glancing around Jungkook's filled work desk curiously.

He should've asked Jimin to leave the moment he entered. But Jungkook was at a wits end for tonight, between too much work and little sleep, spending the better part of a day trying to figure out a way to get occasionally man-eating goddesses to help him out.

It can't be that hard, right?

Jungkook kept his gaze on the flower arrangement, there was something ironic about the sight of sunflowers without any sun to bask in. Jimin had a light affinity, a literal, breathing, sun.

"You shouldn't be here this late, Jungkook-ah, it's not healthy—"

"You were like the sun." Jungkook croaked, projecting a silence against the room. Faintly, one could hear the soft calling of crickets outside despite the laboratory being on the upper floors.

His eyes lingered on a sunflower protruding from the arrangement, a strange sense of melancholy erupting within him. Jungkook was exhausted, there just wasn't any room for anger tonight. Looking at Jimin, all Jungkook felt was a bittersweetness that edged more on sorrow than anger.

"You were my sun." Had his voice always sounded so fragile? There was a lump in his throat forcing him to swallow.

"And—"

"—and when you left ."

Jungkook looked up, his absent gaze finding Jimin's rueful ones. His old soulmate's waterline glistened, a wetness threatening to spill over if Jungkook went on.

"You took the sunlight with you."

Just because a witch had an affinity didn't mean they had to share a personality with their abilities. Necromancers didn't have to be edgy and downright creepy, nor did seers have to be reserved and wise, but Jimin— Jimin was like a ray of sunshine.

When they had met Hoseok for the first time, it had been like two stars colliding. Erupting to create a light so warm, so gentle that they had all been drawn to it.

"I—I spent years in that darkness, not able to see where I'm going, where I'm heading, it was all just empty." How many times, prompted by the jinge of the bookstores bells, had Jungkook wished he'd see Jimin's familiar face?

"So when I finally—Finally managed to light a candle, you show up." He didn't mean to sound so grim, but their reality was; in fact, far from perfect. It had always been the two of them, like Bonnie and Clyde or Robin Hood and Marian. Until it suddenly wasn't.

"And I don't care, I don't care that your presence promises me sunlight."

"Jungkook-ah—" Jimins voice quivered, sounding watery. "Can I just please—"

"Because when you took it the first time, you also took my sense of security within you."

Had he been too dependent on Jimin? Of course not; they had been soulmates, after all.

"When you left, you made it look easy —"

Jimin had always shone so beautifully; if he had been the sun, then Yoongi would've been the moon. Only now did Jungkook realize that in all his life he had never been anything more than a mere sunflower.

"—like, like it was easy to leave me."

Autumn was approaching; Jungkook hadn't noticed it before, the subtle chill joining the breeze brushing past him. The leaves were beginning to change colours, greens migrating into different shades of yellows and oranges. The park's gravelly path wasn't littered with foliage yet, but occasionally, a leaf would separate from its twig and dance through the air before landing on damp grass.

It was early. Early enough in the morning, that the park was still a tranquil haven, cloaked in the soft hues of dawn. The trees stretch out the shadows of the rising sun, its golden hue forcing the dewdrop-covered leaves to practically sparkle as the warming light peaked through branches. The air still had a certain bite to it, a crisp that usually faded throughout the later mornings, currently carrying the sweet fragrance of dew-kissed grass and blossoming flowers.

Jungkook wasn't usually an early bird; he was late to rise and even later to rest. But it had been Yugyeom's suggestion for Jungkook to indulge in other things outside the laboratory, which is why he was here now. Caring a small bag Yugyeom had gifted him consisted of nothing besides a small sketchbook and pencil. It was an old hobby of his—to draw. Quite frankly, he had ceased all of his hobbies after his diagnosis. It felt bittersweet; Jungkook hadn't really realized just how much he had given up that day.

Jungkook consistently trod the delicate line between elation and guilt. Throughout his years of study, he carefully avoided any and all thoughts of his inevitable death. He could—He couldn't accept it. Every action he took, every chapter, every essay, every paper he read was done with an innate sense of dedication—of urgency.

He wasn't going to die.

The grass, still dappled with the glistening remnants of the night's dew, crunched underneath Jungkook's boots as he wandered off the path and towards an empty bench looking out onto the lake. A sense of renewal pervades the air, and the stillness carries a promise of unknown possibilities. Mallards still stayed floating on the water's rippling surface, heads tucked on their backs and against their wings. The birds nesting amongst the surrounding trees had gradually begun to sing, soft chirps and boisterous calls echoing through the rustling leaves. It was almost as if the park itself was awakening with the day, ready to unfold its wonders for those fortunate enough to witness its early morning beauty.

Jungkook almost found it amusing how Yugyeom's exuberance rekindled his own. How, in his steel-fortified focus, he hadn't recognized the depths of his own isolation. Along the way, toeing between different kinds of grief and sorrow, he had somehow convinced himself that companionship was unnecessary. Now, he had someone holding his hand again. Looking out onto the lake, Jungkook watched as the first ducks began awakening, beginning to prune their feathers before he glanced at the small beige tote bag Yugyeom had handed to him.

It felt surreal—how things were beginning to change. Jungkooks own echelon was beginning to form, and watching the ducks cluster together as they awoke made Jungkook oddly happy. He had his Halmoni, now Yugyeom and Balam, and he was even becoming evermore familiar with the Im coven from their frequent visits to his shared laboratory.

With every passing day, Jungkook felt his head slowly emerge from the water he felt himself sinking into. He had always boasted about his ability to move forward after his verdict, but comparing his current now and his previous then.

Had he ever really moved forward?

His eyes caught onto the still resting form of a swan, the bird's long neck laid across its back and eyes closed as it drifted across the lake. He couldn't help but wonder lazily, what was the saying—Swans mate for a lifetime? Moving to grab the tote bag, Jungkook grabbed the small sketchbook and pencil, perching the notebook on his lap before beginning to sketch the idyllic swan. He was rusty, no doubt from his six-year gap, but he quickly familiarized himself with the nostalgic peace sketching gave him.

But the reposed silence didn't last long, the sound of someone sitting down beside him had Jungkook tensing. The slight edges of annoyance filling his aura, as a quick glance around gave way to several empty benches. Glancing to his side, Jungkooks breath caught in his throat as he looked at Taehyung.

The witch wore a long, gray-textured wool coat that reached a little past his knee. A large, red and dark gray chequered scarf draped over the back of his neck, leaving his neck exposed. Jungkook wanted to scoff, partially because wearing the scarf was pointless like that, and to resist the urge to wrap it around Taehyung's neck properly himself. The hell was up with him?

The witch also wore a pair of auburn brown pants that matched well with his white sweatshirt. Taehyung's entire outfit gave off a clean but simple look, matching well with the growing autumn colours. Taehyung had yet to look at Jungkook, eyes instead gazing forward and observing the same picturesque scenery Jungkook had been soaking up all morning. Most specifically, Taehyung seemed to be watching the rising swan.

Jungkook hated it. He found it abhorrent how his hands itched to fix the witch's scarf, how he couldn't keep his eyes from marveling at the stark change between his Taehyung and this Taehyung. However, he figured the worst part of all—was how beautiful Taehyung still was.

Jungkook was no longer looking at a rough-looking delinquent with smokey eyeliner and overly moussed hair, and neither was he breathing in the smell of old leather or subtle spray paint. No, the Taehyung beside him was entirely different. He smelt of subtle cologne and wore no make-up at all, adorning a well-picked-out outfit for autumn that complemented his stature entirely too much. Taehyung, when did you change?

"The others told me not to talk to you." Taehyung began, and somehow Jungkook couldn't help but connect the opposing witches' aura to their surroundings; somehow Taehyung carried the same nippy frost the freshening air did.

"But I don't care," Taehyung added, and despite the clear disregard towards his own wishes—he found Taehyung's disobedience comical, familiar. "Jimin told me about what you said to him."

Ah, Jungkook had almost forgotten just how close they all were with one another. Jungkook had accepted the fact that his path would never align with his soulmates again—he came to terms with that. But that night, all of them had split up. Jungkook had remained unaware that while he trotted around the world like a pariah, they had been wandering together.

Jungkook inhaled, his shaky breath coming out quivery as it clouded against the fresh morning air. There was no way that that realization would ever not hurt him.

"He looked for you."

Taehyung hadn't looked at him as he spoke, but it carried a curtness he was familiar with. There was a subtle, pensive sweetness to the familiarity; that despite the physical changes, Taehyung would always remain Taehyung. It took Jungkook a moment to catch onto exactly what he had said, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion before realization dawned on him.

Briefly, the scene of Taehyung entering the auditorium and jogging towards Jimin's brooding figure during Yugyeom's presentation flashed through him. The sight of Jimin's turbulent thoughts vanishing, practically melting under Taehyung's doting affections. They were so close to one another. Bonded.

"What?" Jungkook piped, looking out at the grooming swan. It was ironic to be surrounded by so much ataraxia and yet remain utterly troubled.

Jungkook watched as Taehyung's blank expression cracked, the facade quivering as he whispered, "We—well, we looked for you."

This time, it was Jungkook's turn to avoid eye contact because—what was he supposed to do with that information? Give Taehyung a participation sticker? A part of him wanted the other witch to stop this conversation entirely because, despite his efforts, his unbridled hate and contempt for everything regarding soulmates—Jungkook still bled for them. With every word, with every encounter, his heart would begin to weep all over again. Taehyung's words hurt, an ache entirely different from anything that could've been caused by insulting him. It was a deep, visceral kind of throbbing.

"We searched for years," Taehyung whispered, and perhaps if the park wasn't nearly as serene and empty as it was, Jungkook would've lost the softness of them to the wind.

A moment passed, Taehyungs gaze lowering to the ground as his expression contorted into one of mild frustration. Jungkook vaguely remembers a similar reaction to a conversation they had long ago, where Taehyung confided in him and complained about his inability to properly express himself. Jungkook couldn't help but wonder if those words still applied today.

"There wasn't—" Taehyung paused, inhaling as his tongue flicked to wet his lips. "There wasn't a pebble we left unturned Jungkook." Please, Jungkook thought pleadingly, please don't say my name like that.

As if the world depended on Jungkook believing him.

"Jimin hyung," Taehyung began again, "Jimin even went to your parents." The witch let out a dry, bitter-sounding chuckle that was more spiteful than anything else. Jungkook instantly understood, his own surprise at the information wearing off. His parents were huge, bigoted classists who were pretty prejudiced against gifted witches—those who weren't born into a witching bloodline—opposed to their superiorly born witches.

Jimin was a gifted witch, as in he hadn't actually developed his abilities until the MCA classified him as a magical. There wasn't necessarily any difference between the abilities of a born witch and gifted witch, but prejudices still existed nonetheless. Jungkook never cared for any of that bullshit. But to imagine Jimin, a man who has always been viewed as inferior by his parents, knocking on their door and asking about his whereabouts stirred his mixed emotions even more.

"You could imagine how well that went." Taehyung cursed, hands scrunching up. "The old hag tore him apart—rightfully so, but Jimin only ever repeated his question."

A small flock of ducks flew down towards the lake, circling it once before slowly lowering into the waving water with energetic wingstrokes. They squeaked and squawked, playfully circling each other as they occasionally ducked for food. Gradually, people began entering the park too. The lonesome jogger or dog walker following the path outlining the body of water.

"So I went to find Jimin, and together we began combing through Hangawoondae together." Taehyungs expression never truly changed as he recounted what occurred after Jungkook left. His fists were hidden in his coat pockets, but Jungkook could tell that he was cycling through a restrained pattern of clenching and unclenching his fists.

"But together, we couldn't find you either." Somehow, Taehyung still managed to tone his words with a level of despair that made Jungkook wonder if he was still missing. "So we went to find Namjoon and Jin."

Jungkook knew he shouldn't be indulging Taehyung like this—he should've left. But another part of him wanted to know , he wanted to know what they did when he left. The first weeks on his own were gruesome, a collaboration between being cold, hungry, and lonely. When all Jungkook had was an empty park bench to lay on for the night, his gaze cast up into the desolate starry sky. Wondering vacantly where they were, whether or not anyone was out there looking for him.

Jungkook knew that despite all the supposed hate and disassociation he had prided himself on, he never lost a certain hope throughout the beginning. With every jingle of the front entrance bells at his Halmoni's store, Jungkook had hoped to see a familiar face. But that day never came, and those hopes died after the third year had passed.

So Jungkook remained seated, his pale hands resting on his knees, fingertips dusted a light pink from the cold. Though the temperature hardly bothered him, his body didn't really heat up anymore. His mana too preoccupied at keeping himself stable to waste energy on heat.

"Namjoon and Jin went and found your Grandparents—fuck, we even tracked down your Uncle," Taehyung muttered. Jungkook frowned; he had cut all ties with his family when he left. There wasn't one member worse than the other, and they were all just dreadful. But to hear they had managed to track down his salacious, estranged Uncle? That must've come from Namjoon's connections.

"Hoseok and Yoongi had apparently already searched for you on their own," Taehyung said that strangely—spitefully? And here Jungkook thought they were all lovey-dovey with one another. He had to stifle a snarky remark, but despite all that could've changed with Taehyung, they were still so much alike. And Jungkook knew that if he interjected now, Taehyung might close up and leave.

"Not even Yugyeom knew where you were." Taehyung pushed through, and unlike the seething stare Jimin had centered around his best friend only a week ago, Taehyung had managed a look of anguish instead.

Jungkook didn't know where to place that information, the thought of them looking for him. But then why hadn't they just cast a spell? A tracer. Hells, they could've just followed the red soul string connecting them if they had wanted to. It wasn't and never had been impossible to find him.

Taehyung twisted to face him, steely, determined eyes nearly taking his breath away. "I'm not saying this to guilt you, Jungkook. I just—I want you to know. Know that there wasn't a day you were out there where I wasn't looking for you." There was an unyielding tone to Taehyung's words as if daring Jungkook to disagree.

"Years we searched the media for any sign of your apprenticeship. But nothing, you were just—gone." Taehyung went on, an almost reminiscing look casting over his gaze.

Distantly, birds sang, chatting and flitting through the air. Taehyung sighed, scrunching up his face before meeting Jungkooks. "We fucked up!—more than just that—we royally screwed up everything good in our lives."

Jungkook felt a bubble of protest stuck in his throat because that couldn't be true. It just couldn't. They fucked up, yes. But Jungkook hadn't been that quintessential to their coven; they had moved on without him. How far would they have gone still if he hadn't shown up on orientation day?

As if sensing his straying thoughts, Taehyung reached over and grabbed one of his icy hands. Weakly, Jungkook could still make out the now unfamiliar tingles the touch of a soulmate provided. "Jungkook-ah," Taehyung called out softly.

"Jungkook, you don't have to forgive us." When had Taehyung garnered the ability to look so vulnerable? Where had the turbulent man of his youth gone? It nearly pained him to look up at Taehyung to meet his soft, pleading features for longer than he already had.

"Losing you," he began again, looking out onto the lake briefly as the swan swam closer to them before subsequently passing them by. "Was the greatest mistake I ever made."

The handing holding his squeezed, and Jungkook wasn't sure whether or not he wanted to pull away or not. "I'll be the first to admit it. One year is what I get with you," and for a second Jungkook's heart sank before he realized that the Veils program only lasted so long.

Suddenly, Taehyung's warm eyes were back on him. "But don't think that I—we won't spend every minute of it trying to make up for those mistakes."

A silence stretched between them as Jungkook searched Taehyungs face for any integrity, or perhaps anything to promote the opposite. Softly, Taehyung began to chuckle. Letting go of Jungkook's warmed hand to comb his hair back, breathing deeply to relieve the phantom pressure that had settled over the older witch. "Big words, huh?" He mused, trying to lighten the mood.

"I'll prove it to you, I—"

"Why didn't you just follow our bond?" Jungkook interrupted stubbornly as he looked up at Taehyung. But the pure confusion that met him somewhat derailed him. Taehyung's eyebrows had pulled together as the other now searched his face for signs.

"What?" The unease settling in his gut made him feel antsy; why did Taehyung look so confused?

"Jungkook," Taehyung's voice cut through the tension between them.

"Your soul-string faded away after you left."

13 notes · View notes

magini0 · 1 month

Text

Kimset (III)

Pairing: ot6 x Jungkook | Jungkook x Everyone

Genre: Witch AU, Soulmate AU, Ex's to Lovers, Angst With a Happy Ending

Word Count: 13k

Also accessible on ao3 => Here Previous Chapter => Here Next Chapter => Here

Books in several shapes and sizes stacked each other along Jungkook's desk, from large, bulky, red-spined encyclopedias to thin, flimsy, and old scholarly inquiries. Works from previous predecessors were strewn about, not even properly bound yet, and instead stapled together or set in a binder. Papers nearly covered every remaining inch of his desk, sporting different notes, and annotations, others depicting quick diagrams and botanical illustrations. Jungkook adored it, although, during his apprenticeship, he had access to all kinds of information and documents, Viles reputation of sourcing more, restricted or rather limited information didn't disappoint. The past week had been spent diligently, Jungkook browsing the first day entirely in the university's library, perusing through old archives and records. Anything he deemed useful was then brought back to his growing hoard, some of the stacks on his desk piling up to seven books high. The remaining six days had been spent like this, Jungkook noting down anything he deemed interesting.

Between the constant sound of his pen scribbling into his notebook was Yugyeom's soft voice. The witch spent a similar amount of time in the laboratory to Jungkook but in a much healthier proportion. Usually, around the evenings, when golden hour would begin to cast the otherwise dim laboratory in an orange warmth, Yugyeom would clock out and have dinner with his coven. Jungkook would usually stay past the point of evening and far into the night instead, not relenting in his pursuits until Balam began to swipe at his scribbling hand.

But unlike Jungkook, who preferred to note and annotate quietly in his own journals. Yugyeom chose to document verbally, eyes gazing across countless maps as he spoke. Some were clearly weathered, old to touch and even smell, similarly to some of the old archives Jungkook managed to scrape together; Yugyeom's maps shared the same musky, old page scent that came with age and the old varnish the books were bound with. Beside Yugyeom, flouting only a meter or two away, wrote a pen whatever was spoken onto a folded notebook. It was nice , the sound of Yugyeom's voice. It became a constant reminder that Yugyeom was there , a fact that had yet to fully set in. Every morning, when Jungkook turns to open the doors to their shared laboratory, he fully expects to see a vacant desk parallel to his own. No trace of Yugyeom.

Perhaps, in all the loneliness accompanying him throughout the last years, someone like Yugyeom felt so foreign . What Yugyeom brought in only his presence was remarkable to Jungkook; it brought so much hope. Warmth.

Jungkook viewed Yugyeom like a fire, passionate and warm, and in all his self-deprecating glory, he couldn't help but wonder when this inferno surrounding him would dwindle out. Inviting the everpresent, all too familiar bitterness to seep back into his limbs. When that welcoming frostbite would wrap around his fingers, sabotaging his pursuit to write another word among his collection of thousands, it would encompass his beating heart and lead the words to escape past his lips to fall frigid and cold. His limbs turning numb, immune to the prick of needles and tourniquets. He had become used to that kind of limbo.

Present but not really there.

"Are those the thornvine roots?"

Jungkook glanced up from his papers at Yugyeom's question, knitting his eyebrows together briefly in confusion before glancing down at Balam, the familiar carrying a small pouch in her mouth. Setting his pen down, he turned his full attention to the arriving cat. Watching her sway with that signature elegance as the feline swiftly hopped from the floor to the marble countertop.

Balam dropped the pouch with slight disinterest, beginning to lick her left paw before brushing it over her already neatly groomed snout. "It is. Although I believe you're forgetting something?" She hummed, tone stern and laced with slight prodding.

Rolling his eyes, Jungkook moved over to open and inspect the roots. Smiling gently, he glanced at his helpful familiar. "Thank you, Balam." The cat's intense gaze seemed to waver after being thanked, her tails previous flicking turning languid and lazy.

"I thought the greenhouse didn't have any in stock?" Yugyeom chimed in, the witch pausing with his menstruation amongst a sea of long, cream-colored maps spread across the countertop as Yugyeom marked the previous migration patterns of Caladrius'. The most recently sighted documentations were old, the records dating back to the 1840s; Yugyeom briefly mentioned trying to accumulate different documentation within the last few decades and trying to illustrate a pattern he could go off of from there.

"They didn't have any fully grown plants left, but a herbology student still had some roots left from a previous project, and I can germinate a remaining plant from there," Jungkook explained, reaching over and scratching behind Balam's ear as another silent thank you. The cat didn't openly admit to enjoying it, but the occasional traitorous purr gave her away.

"Why not just get some seeds?" Yugyeom added, glancing up from his maps. A red marker tucked behind his ear.

Shrugging, Jungkook moved past the purring Balam back to his notes. "It's faster. Sprouting from a seed will take longer. Thornvine can only sprout in August; using an already sprouted plant evades the time requirement."

It was easy for Jungkook to explain things. For the past week, Yugyeom had stuck to his side. They talked about anything and everything, whether that consisted of idle chatter or the occasional gossip, the eccentric deep dive into his illness; Jungkook would never get tired of it. It was easy to be with Yugyeom. It always had been. Whenever Jungkook found his tongue grow oddly heavy and the little gusto in him quiver, Yugyeom would effortlessly carry the conversation instead. He wasn't necessarily accustomed to so much company; besides his Halmoni or Kwang-son, he didn't go out much.

"Shit, where did my pen go?" Yugyeom mumbled, doing a little spin as he hurriedly tapped his pockets before coming up short. The witch was notoriously messy, the space along his countertop not leaving a single inch uncovered. Jungkook had to stifle his surfacing laughter, watching the red pen sit snugly behind Yugyeom's ear as the witch searched.

"Duri, help me!" Yugyeom whined, referring to the witches' own familiar. A little hamster with a mix of brown fur and a white underbelly. Duri, the little round ball of joy, was, simply put— adorable. His little round ears were nearly covered entirely by small tufts of fur, and large brown eyes accentuated the hamster's usually stuffed round cheeks. Long whiskers protruding from each baggy cheek, a little white tail twitching whenever he got too excited. Jungkook had nearly melted at the palm-sized familiar the first time he met Duri, a sharp contrast to his own guide. Duri, unlike Balam—who carried herself with poise and a nurturing sophistication—was always either eating or sleeping .

Jungkook had made the mistake of bringing a packet of almonds to the laboratory earlier this week, a simple snack to munch on while he worked with Yugyeom. Only to find a small hamster beside a now empty packet, belly slightly protruding and cheeks extended as the familiar had eaten himself into a short food-induced coma.

Even now, the hamster lay sleepily in one of Yugyeom's cardigans on the windowsill. A small, signature trail of crumbs following the hamster's location. In response to Yugyeom's plea, Duri released a grumbled squeak. Dismissing the witch in favor of a few more minutes of sleep.

Yugyeom flailed his hands up, utterly exasperated at his familiars response. "You finally get a familiar, and the little bastards trying to outdo Belphegor!"

Jungkook could only shake his head with laughter, tapping the side of his head by his ear to help Yugyeom out. The witch glanced over, confused as he tilted his head. "What? Got an itch or somethin—" Yugyeom began before brushing his own fingers over the spot, eyes widening to a comical level as he felt the cold metal of his pen.

"Oh, OH!" Yugyeom barked, grabbing his pen before setting it down on the table with a groan. He covered his face with his hands, hiding his features for a moment before dragging them down his face with a sigh. "Fuck I need some caffeine, I'm an occupational hazard at this point."

"Well, we could always—"

Jungkook was interrupted by three soft yet clear knocks, the laboratory door opening to reveal Jinyoung, one of Yugyeom's six soulmates Jungkook had briefly met throughout the last week. They were kind from what he had gathered himself; according to Yugyeom, however, they were perfect.

Yugyeom, just like Jungkook, had never made much of their soul-strings. They never searched, ached, or yearned for their soulmates the way others did. Unlike Jungkook, however, Yugyeom didn't fight the connection like he had. He heard all about it at the cafe they had visited the week prior, from how they met—to how they got here now. Jungkook tried not to brew in the fact that he had missed all of it. Leaving was his decision, after all.

Jinyoung was older than Yugyeom but hadn't participated in completing the seventh trial; according to Yugyeom, the other witch wasn't very interested. Although there wasn't an age requirement to enter your seventh level, most people either entered the trial right after completing their internship or not at all. Yugyeom was the third of the Im coven to attempt their seventh trial; the rest had already successfully graduated or didn't enlist at all. A personal choice Jungkook would never judge someone for if he didn't intend on curing his illness and pursuing his career in teaching, perhaps he wouldn't be here either.

At least he got to meet Yugyeom again.

This was Jungkook's second time meeting Jinyoung, as he had gone to dinner with Yugyeom and the remaining Im coven last Wednesday to properly meet everyone. The older witch was broad in stature, hair a natural black but styled neatly with a part leaning towards the left. A large, cream-colored cloak sat on top of a white turtleneck, and simple beige chequered pants fitted with a black belt tied the witch's wardrobe together. Jinyoung gave off a calming aura, peaceful.

"Hyung?" Yugyeom hummed in a questioning tone, glancing at the wall and reading the time from the small circular clock. Jungkook still couldn't decide if its small ticking drove him absolutely bonkers or somewhat soothed the silence away. "What are you doing here?" Yuygeom followed up, eyebrows knitted in concentration as he tried recalling whether or not he was forgetting something.

Jinyoung smiled, soft and slightly crooked, as his gaze locked on Yugyeom. It was the kind of smile—under Jungkook's careful observation—that was far from perfect. A type of smile that wasn't swallowable. When that giddy, hyperactive joy danced around your chest, squeezing and swelling your heart, you feared it might just burst out of your body. Jinyoung seemed to have suppressed himself enough not to engulf Yugyeom in a tight hug but seemed unable to keep his lips from curling upwards. Unable to resist some part of his body showing the sheer content he felt.

Jungkook felt out of place, taking in such a sight.

It was too intimate.

Too familiar.

"Jaebeom says you're spending too much time in the laboratory. He's afraid you might start growing some feathers at this rate," Jinyoung chuckled, eyes crinkling in amusement at the exaggerated sound of outrage from the witch. But Yugyeom seemed to be a bad liar, a smile similar to Jinyoungs betraying his display of offense.

"Kookie, you see how I'm being treated here, right?" Yugyeom huffed, crossing his arms as he pouted. He looked pointedly at Jungkook, who was entirely taken aback at the old nickname being used— Kookie.

When was the last time Yugyeom called him Kookie?

Jinyoung seemed to take notice of Jungkook's presence at that moment, something he didn't take much offense to. No, Jinyoung had seemed enraptured by Yugyeom the moment he had walked through their laboratory doors. It made him happy. To see someone, if not all, the Im coven so deeply infatuated with one another. Love spread through their auras, and it silently assured Jungkook that Yugyeom would be well taken care of if he became unable to watch over his friend himself. Jinyoung smiled at Jungkook, more polite and restrained as the two greeted each other.

"I see it." Jungkook mused, his lips querking into a crooked smirk as Yugyeom scoffed jokingly. "Now go, he's right, y'know. You do spend too much time in here." He added, unable to prevent his eyes from rolling as Yugyeom proceeded to cover his heart and feign a deep-rooted betrayal.

"Mhm, Jungkook is right, baby; let's go out for some lunch. Jackson hyung and Bambam are already waiting for us in Serenade, so pack up and get that cute little butt of yours going." Jinyoung coaxed, chuckling at the outraged expression and how quickly it melted away as he mentioned which exact restaurant they'd be going to.

"Fine, fine, I'm going," Yugyeom muttered, packing some of his essentials back into his bag. He grabbed Duri, the little hamster still snoozing but letting out a loud squeak at being picked up. When Yugyeom seemed put together, the witch spun around to glance at Jungkook. "Are you heading out for some lunch now, too, Kookie?"

Kookie?

Clearing his throat, Jungkook nodded with a strained smile. "Yeah, I'll just wrap up this last paragraph, and I'll head out too." He swallowed, gulping down brewing feelings as he tried assuring his worried friend. Yugyeom's gaze remained skeptical, partially because Yugyeom could detect when he lied. "Besides, I don't think Balam would let me skip any more meals than I already have," Jungkook added, a little chuckle towards the end of his words as he rubbed his neck self-soothingly at the familiar's accusatory stare.

Yugyeom's gaze seemed to ease, the witch trusting the strict cat to keep him in line. With a sigh, shoulders drooping as they lost their tension, Yugyeom flashed Jungkook a tender smile. "Alright then, I'll see you tomorrow? I don't think the others are gonna let me off the hook today." Yugyeom mused, his words being backed up by Jinyoung's determined nod. "It's bad enough to have three workaholics in our coven, and our little one is proving to rival even our Jaebeomie's work attitude."

Yugyeom huffed, pouting as he shook his head. Unable to wipe the mirthful smile off his crooked lips. Good , Jungkook thought, smile like that forever, okay? Jungkook came to the same conclusion during his dinner with the Ims, but he felt like Yugyeom was in good hands. Yugyeom would be okay, no matter what happened. The thought comforted him greatly despite the building tightness in his throat and the weight on his chest, forcing his own smile to grow tighter. Responses reduced to a tight-lipped grimace and occasional nod, fond eyes forced to speak on his behalf.

"Little one?" Yugyeom repeated, nose scrunching up in feigned disgust. "I'm taller than most of you." He added, making Jinyoung scoff and shake his head playfully. "That was not the part you were supposed to focus on, babe."

Yugyeom was about to retort when his phone dinged with a notification; Jungkook only assumed it was a message from the aforementioned waiting Jackson and BamBam. Sighing, Yugyeom turned his attention back to Jungkook. Walking over, he pulled the silent witch into a quick embrace. Yugyeom had grown more touchy throughout their time apart, not like Jungkook necessarily minded; he welcomed the warmth it gave him. Rubbing his back in soothing circles, Yugyeom reluctantly pulled away. "You have another appointment tomorrow?" He asked, voice soft and fairly quiet.

Although, it wasn't necessarily a secret from the Im coven. Yugyeom had asked him earlier, after their meeting, whether he was able to tell his coven about Jungkook's condition. Jungkook agreed under the condition that his illness was brushed over and that his more— unpleasant symptoms were kept between them. It was bizarre how Jungkook finally had them now. But the interaction between Yugyeom and Jinyoung left a kind of led-like feeling on his tongue, a tension in his throat that made him uneasy, and in Yugyeom's embrace, all he could do was nod.

But Yugyeom smiled nonetheless, those caring, nurturing eyes falling on him with a level of care Jungkook was barely used to. Jungkook was thankful that, no matter what, Yugyeom's gaze never turned into something akin to pity. It didn't matter if Jungkook had to go to the hospital once a week; Yugyeom would never feel sorry for him in that way.

"Okay, same time as last time?" Yugyeom asked, the sound of their clothes rustling filling the room as the witches slowly pulled apart from each other. Nodding, Jungkook silently arranged his internal schedule to fit around the appointment. "Okay, I'll pick you up again. Let's have lunch at the cafe, too; I really liked that strawberry shortcake." Nodding again, Jungkook's strained smile eased slightly. He was about to let Yugyeom leave until he perked up, recalling his actual plans for tomorrow. "Actually, I was going to go see my Halmoni tomorrow afterward. You don't need to pick me up this time; I can't fast-travel, so it'll be a pretty long train ride." He explained, internally frowning as he had to reject the gentle doting Yugyeom was giving him.

The witch, however, only perked up in interest. "Can I meet her?" He asked curiously.

"You want to go on a ten-hour train ride just to meet my Halmoni?" Jungkook honestly hadn't expected that; Chae-won's back had been bothering her lately, so Jungkook wanted to stop by and help out. Check up on her and the bookstore, along with giving Jung-so another hour or two of tutoring upon his mom's request. There was also a small level of homesickness he felt. Although he now had Yugyeom and Balam and superficial relations with the Im coven, he missed her. She was all he had for such a long time.

"Of course, Kookie. I want to meet the woman who took you in and took care of you for the past six years!" Yugyeom laughed, ruffling Jungkook's hair in a playfully scolding manner.

Kookie?

"I'll pick you up tomorrow after your appointment. I'll stop by the cafe first and grab us something to go, and then we'll head to the train station together, okay?" Smiling, Jungkook's eyes felt wetter than before.

"Okay."

Yugyeom's eyes turned into little crescents, his smile brighter than before. Jungkook wasn't exactly sure what he had done to deserve Yugyeom, but he was thankful for it. For him, despite the efforts of his Halmoni, Jungkook hadn't been aware how much he needed the other witch back in his life. Clearing his throat, Jungkook bashfully averted his gaze, silently embarrassed for growing emotional again. He had been doing that a lot lately.

Nudging Yugyeom off towards Jinyoung carefully, "Now go eat something," he mused. Promptly ignoring the other's pout. Jinyoung walked over, snaking his arm around Yugyeom's waist. "He's right, let's go now, little one. Before the others eat without us."

Little one? That used to be Seokjin's and Namjoon's go-to nickname for him back in the academy. No wonder his stomach dropped when Jinyoung had called Yugyeom that; he just hadn't picked up on it then. Jungkook hated the nickname when he first heard it; back then, he was still working on his 'bad boy' image. Being called little one by his Hyungs definitely didn't help him keep appearances. But somehow, Jungkook wasn't exactly sure how he'd find himself wrapped up in either Seokjins or Namjoon's arms, perhaps on the nights when he suffered from unsettling nightmares and would sneak into their shared dorm room. Seokjin would get him a banana milk or hot chocolate, while Namjoon would try to distract him with something—that usually consisted of talking about something he had recently learned or simply reading him a story. The three of them would then get on one of the two twin beds, a large, fluffy blanket draped over their shoulders as they sat together, Jungkook in the middle. Where eventually, his head would start lolling towards one of their shoulders, and his sleepy body would get tucked into the bed. In those small, intimate moments, Jungkook found himself never wanting to be anyone other than his two Hyungs little one.

Jinyoung had said the nickname with the same level of tenderness that it inadvertently sent Jungkook back to a time when he would grow sleepy in a room that faintly smelt of hot chocolate, and the blankets were never anything but fluffy. A place where he had felt loved.

"Alright, see you tomorrow, Kookie." Yugyeom smiled, waving at Jungkook and giving Balam another stern look that screamed, make the boy eat something before leaving. Jinyoung had opened the door for them, cheekily swatting at Yugyeom's ass before the door closed behind them. Jungkook could hear his friend's muffled squeal and the distant laughter that eventually disappeared down the hall, too.

Yugyeom was happy.

His coven was good to him, and that's all Jungkook needed.

"You know, you have the innate ability to express how you feel without even uttering a single word." Balam hummed, voice smooth and collected as always. But it carried a gentler note than usual, delicate.

"Yeah?" Jungkook inquired, tone trying to sound amused. "What do I look like?" He added, glancing down to look into the familiar's clear feline eyes. Standing before Balam's questioning gaze left one feeling dissected; at least, at that moment, Jungkook felt oddly bare.

"Sad."

Balam crooned, gaze not wavering. Balams never did. It must be something within a cat's nature, or maybe it simply was just Balam. Even as Jungkook let out a fake, sputtered chuckle as he covered his mouth to muffle the sharp inhale that filled his lungs at those words. The way he had to blink a few more times than what was considered natural and gulped down a lump of emotion that threatened the muscles in his lips to wobble.

"I—" another half-hearted chuckle accompanied by a shake of his head, "Feel nothing but happiness for Yugyeom and his coven." There was a level of curtness in Jungkook's voice that challenged Balam to insinuate anything else, but the cat simply shook her head with a sigh.

A simple glance from the familiar seemed to speak for her, a discerning, almost analytical kind of look that analyzed Jungkook's very nature. He wasn't sure what exactly Balam saw, but her gaze softened. Walking over, she repositioned herself at the corner of his desk closest to the windowsill where he sat. He was partially relieved she didn't garner his response with a reply; it seemed her own response would be kept unspoken, lingering in the air between them.

"You know, I've grown rather curious." Her voice coaxed, her tail continuing to sway methodically behind her. It was amusing to Jungkook, perhaps if it also wasn't so unnerving, to see his familiar so curious. Balam reminded him somewhat of his Halmoni; both were strict and rather thorough but methodically devoted to what mattered to them. "Why is it that we hate them so much?" She tacked on, her gaze unwavering.

"We?"

Jungkook scoffed, a little disbelieving as he uncrossed his arms and pulled his gaze from the window to fully look at Balam.

"Yes, we. I have watched you cry, cuss, and avoid your own room like it harbours some plague. They have hurt you, and currently, you are my witch—therefore, I hate them too." She explained, feigning nonchalance by beginning to groom her already pampered fur. Jungkook, on the other end, stood silent for a moment. Feeling a mixture of both adornment and flattery. When the cat's expectant look greeted him again, he cleared his throat. The momentary happiness washed away, eyes glued back to the window. He watched how students passed, occasionally alone, but rarely; most went in pairs or groups.

The sky was clean, with occasional clouds decorating the atmosphere and rays of sunlight shining through in translucent beams. How serene. Along the sky, Jungkook watched as an echelon formed across the horizon, a pair of seven birds traversing the air in a V formation. The ducks—Jungkook assumed; he didn't know a damn thing about birds—communicate seamlessly amongst themselves. Swerving to the right, his gaze followed as the duck ending the left formation line tapered off, growing distant as it failed to keep up with the remaining flock.

"I don't hate them." Jungkook eventually murmured, voice quiet and gentle as he broke the silence that had filled the empty laboratory.

"You don't?" Balam contemplated, tone a little goading as she tested his resolve regarding that statement.

He couldn't.

Shaking his head, Jungkook resigned himself to the bitter taste his admittance left on his tongue. He should hate them—he deserved to. "I can't—Even though, in some ways, I do. I do hate them, but I also don't." He tried explaining, but his feelings were becoming more complicated by the day. He couldn't pinpoint one emotion he felt when seeing them; there were just so many. He simply felt—complicated.

"I hate what happened, how it ended. I hate how I'm back in a place I never wanted to be in again—a place I thought I had left behind." He explained, gaze still following the struggling duck in the sky.

The stillness in the room was interrupted by the sound of light, feathery laughter that came muffled through the door. People were passing by rather loudly, and their joy unconsciously made Jungkook's lips curl slightly.

"Y'know, Taehyhung and I used to act all rebellious during our academy years." He mused, snickering at the disapproving scoff Balam released. Glancing at the cat, he couldn't help but chuckle at her expression. If she could, she would have raised one of her brows in question towards him while she shook her head jestingly.

"We were—" He paused, smile growing and eyes glazed as he tried picking the right word to describe them, " Firecrackers. " He settled, shaking his head and snickering at a particular memory. "We tried one-upping each other constantly. Putting green hair dye in the lacrosse team shampoo bottles, spray painting the courtyard, hexing dinner so all the prefects could only talk in gibberish for twenty-four hours, convincing our linguistics professor that he was haunted—gosh, the list went on!" Jungkook chuckled, for a moment being somewhere else entirely. He was sixteen, hiding underneath the Headmaster's mahogany desk, covering his mouth with his hand as he tried not to get caught. Suddenly, footsteps hurried into the room and rushed over—he was about to be caught! Then, Taehyung crouched down and hurriedly snuck underneath the same desk. Gaze still pointed away before it turned to him. The two rascals stared at each other for a moment, then another, before promptly bursting into laughter.

And then, they both—

"Jungkook?"

Oh.

That was a long time ago.

"Still with me, Jungkook?" Balam cooed, gaze softening. The kind of look that stitched one's eyebrows upwards in sympathy.

"Yeah—Yeah, I guess, I'm… I'm here, Balam."

That horrible, cumbersome weight washed over him as he swallowed down that world. A world where Taehyung and him had grown to love each other and all their troublesome tomfoolery, where in the midst of their denied affection towards each other, shared glances between them as Jin went off for getting into trouble again, was all they had. A place where confessions were made in an old, crickety shrine and beds were shared after particularly harrowing nightmares. Where nightmares suddenly become more frequent than ever, and beds turn colder if one lies in them alone.

How could he hate that world?

"We were kids." He croaked, the feeling of resurfacing still somehow filling his lungs with water. He keeps drowning in a world he no longer inhabits.

"Finding your soulmate at a young age was rare, not uncommon. But finding your entire coven? We—we were special . We didn't have a fucking clue how to navigate any of it, the attention. Some of us were already struggling as it was—we, we were only kids. " His voice stammered, grasping at a thousand memories yet still coming out empty-handed. His soul, in nearly all affairs, remained dormant; however, the string around his finger seemed to pull and tug restlessly at the mere mention of them.

It was ironic, if not simply just infuriating. How Jungkook could spend hours formulating these explanations he was giving to Balam now, carefully plucking each and every word to properly convey the sheer unfairness of everything.

It was them against the world—seven vs. the rest. One for all and all for one, at least, that's how it had been.

"Seokjin!" He chimed in, or rather, suddenly introduced. Balam perked, gaze an amalgamation of curiosity, sympathy, and surprise. It would've made him chuckle, but despite the sporadic assortment of his expositions, he felt heard. Despite the sheer silence of the room, making muffled laughter audible even through the thick walls. To the long, arduous pauses that followed most of his sentences as he got lost in himself. Balam listened . She waited, and when he did speak, he was heard .

Clearing his throat, Jungkook tried again, "Seokjins was—is, the son of two MCA counsel members. Both were displeased with our bonding, especially since they were trying to win an upcoming election campaign to stay on the board—they couldn't afford potential scandals. Let alone with such riff-raff. " Jungkook explained, changing his voice to a pitchy, mockingly feminine voice as he mocked Seokjin's mother. An entitled woman with permanent frown lines between her brows and marionette creases framing her face in a protruding, prejudicial scowl.

"Oh! And—and Namjoon, son of South Korea's Chief of Police, bonded to two know-it-all delinquents that kept popping up on Hangawoondae police stations bench!" Of course, Jungkook hadn't made a habit of ending up in any kind of police station. But it didn't matter either; fortunately for him, the Jeons had money . The kind that could make any officer turn a blind eye to his outbursts. To his vandalism and petty theft, Taehyung, on the other hand—wasn't as lucky. But the other witch hardly cared.

Jungkook recalled, not without a shiver the dreadful social gatherings he had to attend for his family, playing the part of the perfect son, in order for his father to "talk" with one of his old buddies from the military days. On an entirely unrelated note Taehyung's history was cleared due to an accidental server outage.

Namjoon and he had an argument about it later. Namjoon was well aware of the ever-growing corruption within the police force; his father was a good example of it. But Namjoon discouraged bribery—any dishonesty, actually; Namjoon had always been a born leader, fair and unprejudiced.

"My parents, snobby aristocrats who worried about bloodlines and purity, didn't want to be mixed up with sullieds." Jungkook went on, ignoring the soft hiss Balam let out at the word. Sullieds—an archaic insult.

"But we fell in love." A huffed smile tugged on Jungkook's lips, small and twitchy as he lingered in the feathery feeling of happy memories. Brief and flashing but still there.

"Despite all odds— fuck, we grew to love each other above all else."

"So—"

"So when three of our parents demanded a trial." Jungkook hated how vividly he recalled that

evening, where the noon light began fading within a silent room, the only noise amongst any of them being the chattering, cracking fireplace.

"We agreed."

"Because—"

"Because we thought we'd be proving them wrong."

Squeezing his eyes shut, Jungkook was still able to hear the pounding echo of their running footsteps, the shrill cries of each other's names. The desperation within each and every one of them.

"We lost everything."

"Or, at least—I had lost everything."

Glancing back out the window, Jungkook briefly catches a glimpse of the previous struggling flock of birds. Unlike the split echelon he had observed moments ago, counting over the flying dots in the sky—Jungkook counted seven.

"Jungkook?"

Straightening at the familiar voice, Jungkook's body was half prepared to stand up and walk down the hall; following nurses was an instinctual habit at this point in his life. But a nurse wasn't the one who had called on him this time; no, glancing up from his phone and shifting his weight on those horrible pink fake leather chairs, his own gaze greeted Yoongi’s.

The older witch was wearing a white doctor's coat, but upon further inspection and a clear lack of authorization, it was obvious that Yoongi was still in training. Jungkook had become rather skilled at picking out students or trainees within the medical field; he absolutely hated it when doctors simply assumed he was okay with another person entering his sessions. A part of him didn't want to be selfish, especially if the other individual was there simply for observations, but it also just rubbed him the wrong way. He struggled enough with being open about his illness already; being another person's test subject wasn't on Jungkook's list of things to do, nor did he enjoy being ogled with such sympathetic eyes either.

But again, that didn't exactly answer Jungkook's current and much more pressing matter of why Yoongi was standing before him. Once the momentary shock wore off, Jungkook felt like it left a bitter taste on his tongue. Short, flash-like memories dance around his mind of all the times Yoongi had patched him up throughout their shared time together.

Yoongi was a witch with incredible healing abilities; Jungkook learned about that rather early on in their acquaintanceship. But from what he recalled, Yoongi hated the sight of injuries. Blood had made the older witch so queasy; the only reason he had managed to bear it at all was because he prioritized patching Taehyung or him up over his own dislikes.

Solemnly, Jungkook couldn't help but wonder— when did you change, Hyung? Jungkook was evermore aware of the fact that his soulmates were really people he didn't know at all anymore. It was an odd feeling, a type of helplessness that settled restlessly inside him. Because hate was all he had, disdain for the people he knew. But did he still know them?

Jungkook could still hear the phantom whispers, delicately woven promises lingering somewhere inside his heart. What happened to our forever, Hyung?

"What are you doing here?" Yoongi asked, voice a little rushed as it carried a sense of urgency. Just as Jungkook was about to process what was going on, Hoseok stumbled up towards Yoongi. Carefully nudging the older witch's shoulder, shaking his head in mild but playful frustration. "Ah, hyung. What did I tell you about walking off? Hospitals are just really creepy labyrinths." Hoseok whined dramatically, and his words nearly prompted Jungkook to snicker in agreement. Almost .

A nudge from Yoongi quickly got Hoseok's attention to focus on Jungkook, the witch straightening up. Hoseok's lips curved up a little, a rather timid smile taking over his features. But that expression quickly shifted as the older witch took in their surroundings, shifting between Yoongi's white coat and Jungkook's clear lack of medical attire. Instantly—a lot faster than what Jungkook felt comfortable with—Hoseok's face contorted into one of poorly concealed worry.

The type of worry that made one's eyebrows knit together and body begin to shift restlessly as it tried releasing its current stress levels while attempting not to exceed previously established boundaries. It was clear, however, that the latter was a lot harder to maintain.

"Are you hurt? I'll make Yoongi push you up the line if you are." Hoseok asked softly but in a slight rush.

Oh.

Hoseok was worried.

A part of Jungkook assumed—from what he still knew—that Yoongi preferred to heal people important to him personally. The witch didn't have the best relationship with doctors and felt reassured when he took care of someone properly. In many ways, Jungkook was grateful Hoseok didn't offer Yoongi's services directly. He wasn't sure how he'd react hearing something like that, but one thing was for certain: he was never going to tell them about his diagnosis.

But again, that information only added to Jungkook's growing whys. What had changed Yoongi's mind?

How much was still left of the Hoseok and Yoongi he knew?

"I'm not hurt." Jungkook offered, curt and mellow with his answer. Something irked him about leaving Hoseok worried about him. He could handle anger, sadness, and pain; anything towards him from them was alright. But affection? No— no , his old Hyungs being loving towards him was something he couldn't handle. That sweet, cold nostalgia. The cold scent of hot chocolate and fresh linens, the feeling of warm lips and delicate caresses, the sound of everlasting promises and cheesy confessions, was a part of a world long gone. To parade that life in front of him, like it was something that could still exist to Jungkook, was a cruelty he hadn't learned to deal with yet.

The silence stretched between them, Yoongi's gaze never wavering as he still tried to reassure himself that Jungkook was indeed alright. Jungkook, on the other hand, didn't know how to feel. Hospitals had become his new life, a world he entered after their coven had disbanded. To see Hoseok and Yoongi, two prominent members of his old life, trotting around in his current one left Jungkook feeling tangled.

"Jungkook, if you're unwell, let us know." Yoongi's slightly gruff—he always went for that tone whenever something bothered him—and stern voice spoke out. It was the tone he would use whenever scolding either him or Taehyung. The coven, at least his old one, functioned on a self-established system. Seokjin, Namjoon, and Yoongi were the enforcers; if one got in trouble(which they got into a lot), they'd be the ones to scold and punish them. Hoseok was more of a mediator; Jungkook had only ever seen a serious Hoseok once, and it was scary . Jimin was an instigator, the brat. Taehyung and him were just wildcards, at least—that's how it had been.

Yoongi inhaled, crossing his arms as his expression took on a torn appearance. "If—," he paused, mulling over his words. "If you don't want us there, that's fine. I'll still push you up the waiting line regardless."

Jungkook could appreciate the sentiment, from how Hoseok's jaw seemed to clench in worry as the witch glanced at Yoongi's held-back posture before nodding along to his covenmates' words. But he didn't want any of it; he couldn't. The worry in their eyes was something he couldn't quite bear, the sight causing an uncomfortable lump to form in his throat.

Shaking his head, Jungkook pushed past their concern. "So, what are you doing at the hospital?"

He was in no way on friendly terms with his old Hyungs—old as in, Jungkook didn't recognize any of these people as his Hyungs anymore—but the curiosity to know who exactly this new Hoseok and Yoongi were felt unrelenting.

Yoongi scowled at being disregarded but kept quiet, something Jungkook felt grateful for. Hoseok, on the other hand, tried hiding how he practically beamed at the attention. Throughout the past week, his old coven had tried countless times to engage Jungkook in conversation. But if the sickly witch wasn't in his laboratory or rummaging through the campus for his investigation, he was promptly passed out in his room. Partially because he was exhausted and another because he didn't return to the dorms until he was utterly depleted.

"Oh! Well, Yoongi-hyung here is a healer." Hoseok mused, clearly taking pride in his soulmate's growing profession. It warmed both Jungkook's heart the same way it seemingly hurt it, throbbing painfully as he watched the adoration for Yoongi's accomplishments to be seen so evidently. It made Jungkook wonder how they viewed him, if perhaps in another timeline, they could've been proud of him , too.

Yoongi had become a little flustered at Hoseok's praise, mimicking a level of nonchalance that was given away by the subtle pinkening of his ears. Healer was a term thrown around mostly in the magical community. Common medical professions, such as pediatricians,

Neurosurgeons, Anesthesiologists, and more were human-oriented and human dominated professions. Magicals, of course, still went to these doctors, but certain illnesses were simply reserved for magicals, requiring a healer instead of a simple doctor.

It meant Yoongi and him had been, and actively were, working in the same field.

"He's been keeping up with your work for a while now, actually. Yah , you should've seen him during your inquiry presentation!" A sharp nudge from Yoongi's elbow made Hoseok chuckle, but he relented in his pursuit of teasing the elder. It made Jungkook's own lips curve upwards because the playful banter between them was familiar; it was, well—light.

"Funny how fate works like that, hm?" Hoseok added after a beat, the tone soft but nostalgic. The elders' eyes grew a little lidded, gaze cloudy as he clearly went somewhere else entirely. When Hoseok looked up again, Jungkook felt his breath hold before tapering off.

Despite his efforts, Jungkook couldn't pluck out any definitive words to describe exactly how Hoseok looked. His expression was an accumulation of remorse, a certain bittersweet sadness, and a whole lot of wondering.

The questions didn't just seem to pile up on Jungkook's end, but his reasons were private. Only a handful of people knew, besides Yugyeom and the Ims, a few doctors, and his Halmoni, his condition was kept under wraps. His old coven was strictly off-limits regarding his sickness.

“Jung—”

“Jeon Jungkook?”

Yoongi had begun but was promptly interrupted by the nurse calling out his name. Sighing, Jungkook held the loose cardigan in his arms, a little tiger against his chest.

“Bye Hoseok-sii, Bye Yoongi-sii.” Stepping around them, Jungkook didn't look back as he followed the nurse. A heaviness in his gut and tugging on his pinky, a weak plea to turn around and spare his old soulmates a fleeting glance.

Jungkook did not turn around, promptly disappearing down the hallway and mentally preparing himself for another harrowing transfusion. The door closed behind him and the nurse, his feet entering a type of autopilot as they pushed themselves towards the medical bed and sat down. Without hesitation, he pulled his sleeves up with a practiced ease and let the nurse check his vitals. The modified centrifuge was rolled in shortly after as Jungkook laid back against the stiff mattress, looking at the off-white ceiling as the juncture of his elbow was cleaned with a pungent alcohol wipe.

It wasn't until the sharp, burning sensation of the needle piercing his vein, and the nurse turning on the centrifuge—that Jungkook realized that his old world had momentarily clashed with his new one.

His eyes stayed stuck trailing the acoustic ceiling tiles, his ears numbing the unpleasant rumbling of the medical equipment beside him, his nose filling with the malodorous scent of disinfectant, and his limp fingertips toying with the rough fleece of his hospital blanket.

Did he realize which of his worlds had remained.

The train rattled along the tracks, the rhythmic clatter merging with the gentle hum of wheels on steel as Jungkook watched the world pass by in a blur. The landscape unfolds like a sepia-toned painting, with jovial greens beginning to transition into melancholic ambers and russet hues. The trees, once lush and vibrant, were subtly growing bare, the occasional skeletal branches peeking out from patches of turning leaves.

There was something about the lack of cities as the train moved past forgotten towns and dilapidated barns, each structure bearing the weight of time; the way the land remained leveled despite the towns they passed. The fields, once alive with the vibrancy of summer, were now beginning to grow dormant, cascading leaves starting to cover the land in a subtle carpet. Long fields winding up and down hills, usually enclosed with brown fences, containing content-looking cattle. Agricultural fields occupied the occasional lonely scarecrow, standing as a sentinel in the growing desolate landscape, a silent witness to the changing seasons. Despite the contrast, Jungkook couldn't quite contain his gushing smile as he watched a particularly energetic caff bounce around its mother.

"It kinda reminds you of Hangawoondae, doesn't it?" Yugyeom chimed in, pulling Jungkook's gaze from the landscape and glancing at his companion. The train didn't seem that busy today, meaning the two had snagged a roomette for themselves. A small table between them and a large, clear window to their side. Yugyeom and Jungkook sat across from each other, both leaning against their seats as they focused on the passing scenery.

"Yeah, it really does. But I guess that's just the countryside." Jungkook hummed, watching Yugyeom nod as the witch had a fond smile gracing his lips. A clouded look—one that Jungkook was skilled in deciphering— nostalgia.

In the beginning, when Jungkook had just left Hangawoondae behind, nostalgia came along in the form of lamenting. He couldn't count the times he sat somewhere, whether that was on a crusty curb or wet bench, thinking about everything he left behind. Anything sent him spiraling during those days: a happy couple walking down the street, caf��s, high schoolers in their uniforms, magicals practicing street magic—anything. Jungkook wasn't sure when exactly the frequency of his memories reduced, but despite their distance, they still came. Even years later, he was never able to fully shake them off.

When the drifting scent of hot chocolate sprinkled with a whisper of cinnamon suddenly took him back to a winter holiday he'd never have again, from high, hyena-like laughter that reminded him of a lunch table fiasco and spilled milk. The occasional rhythmic patter of rain casting a phantom like blanket over his shoulder, and the distant sound of crackling logs breaking underneath a fire he could no longer feel anymore.

That was nostalgia. Despite the agony that came with every taste, he still somehow cherished those feelings.

"I thought about it," Jungkook began, eyes cast outside. "Coming back, I mean."

"Why?"

Good question. Leaving was hard, and besides what had prompted Jungkook to run away. He also did it to free himself from his parents and the societal expectations he was under. Of course, that decision left him practically homeless.

Fear was the appropriate answer. But it wasn't the honest one.

Honesty.

Jungkook could still recall the day he came back to the dormitory after his usual meeting with the Headmaster and his parents; those days were always rough. Considering the sheer amount of money his family "donated" to the academy, Jungkook suffered a much stricter regime than others. Once a month, his parents would meet with the Headmaster and review his performance. Unfortunately, one month later, Jungkook failed one of his science exams, and instead of attending the scheduled remake of the said exam, he went to an art exhibit with his art class.

His parents went ballistic.

Jungkook still cringed at the memory; the way they entered his art class—during an active class—made the teacher gather his canvases, sketchbooks, and paintbrushes and take them away only to demand the Headmaster burn them in the courtyard.

The Dean had argued about the potential scandal such action could evoke, which prompted the Headmaster to burn Jungkook's passion within his office's fireplace instead. A small mercy, at least to him. It spared him the burden of other students' gossip; the rumor mill already tossed his name around more frequently than he'd like. Jungkook had spent the rest of the day weeping on the shared dormitory's couch. He swore it all off: art, painting, creativity—all of it. Namjoon and Hoseok had been the ones to comfort him that night, far past midnight when Seokjin had already ushered a worried Jimin and Taehyung to bed along with an insomniac recovering Yoongi. His knees had been pressed to his chest as he sat, a heavy blanket draped around him and over his head like a cloak as he sniffled. Hoseok's arm was slung over his shoulders, occasionally rubbing his arm. The subtle heat seeping through the blanket somehow comforted Jungkook, even if it was just Hoseok's faint bodily warmth.

Namjoon had left for a moment before returning, and Jungkook hardly took notice as he tried processing every turbulent emotion circulating inside of himself. It wasn't until the weight of Namjoon's body sank the cushion beside him, the little rustle of a plastic bag urged him to peek his head out of his cocoon of self-pity. Namjoon just smiled, that crooked, dimpled grin that felt like a ray of sunshine after a rainy day. He had felt so hesitant but grabbed the bag nonetheless. Peeking inside, he carefully pulled out a small leather-clad sketchbook. The spine of the book was still visible, neat rows of golden thread revealing the bookbinding stitch that kept the pages together.

Jungkook had weakly protested at the sight—after everything that had happened, he didn't want to risk his parents burning a gift of theirs. Hoseok had hushed him softly, briefly brushing his fringe back as he urged him to actually open the book. Jungkook pouted for a moment or two longer before carefully peeling the cover back. Jungkook saw blank sheets of paper until Hoseok leaned over, snapped a picture, and showed Jungkook what appeared to be a textbook instead of the apparent sketchbook he was holding. Namjoon explained briefly that he had put a little spell on the book's pages, and to anyone else, it appeared to be an extensive deep dive into the riveting world of accounting except for Jungkook. How exactly Namjoon had managed to perform such a spell was beyond Jungkook, but Namjoon had his affinities.

Namjoon had briefly reminded him that despite not being able to live out his own ambitions publicly, it was important that Jungkook did not lose sight of himself and his own truths. Which briefly induced another wave of tears on Jungkook's side, but Namjoon and Hoseok had kissed those betraying cries away, too.

Jungkook had ended up using the enchanted book as a sort of diary, a little journal where all of his confessions were laid to rest, waiting to be read in the unlikely event he was no longer there to tell them himself.

The truth was that Jungkook had missed them. He had wanted to go back.

"Hope, I guess." Jungkook eventually murmured, resting his chin in the palm of his hands as he glanced outside the window.

"The thought that maybe I could have fixed what had happened if I went back." He added, sighing sadly. He had missed Yugyeom's response to those words, but his shoulders tensed as a warm hand reached out to gently grab hold of his cold one. He didn't resist—he never did when it came to Yugyeom.

"Jungkook," Yugyeom began, voice strained as the witch looked into his eyes. His gaze held a stern intensity that made Jungkook falter, inhaling sharply.

"Please know that what happened wasn't your fault."

Of course, Jungkook knew that. So why— Why were his eyes watering?

"Oh, Kookie. Come here," Yugyeom moved, slipping around the desk and plopping down beside Jungkook before pulling the sniffling witch into his arms.

Somehow, against every fiber of Jungkook's being, Yugyeom's hug brought out the waterworks within him. Sniffles turn into small, messy sobs. The type that left you breathless, puffy-eyed, and with a snotty nose. But Jungkook ceased to care because he hadn't cried like this in such a long time.

Now, more than ever. Forced to see them again, his emotions had been building up towards his limits like skyscrapers. How could he be undone by such a simple sentence? The implication of everything not being his fault left him feeling wounded. Raw. It was a subject he wasn't too keen on touching anytime soon.

“Oh Kookie, my sweet Kookie.” Yugyeom sounded emotional, too, and it made Jungkook chuckle a little through his tears. Yugyeom always cried when he did; neither of them could keep their own tears at bay whenever the other cried.

"It wasn't your fault, okay?" Yugyeom went on, spurring another wave of tears. "And there was nothing you could have done to change what had happened."

"But—" Jungkook gulped, sniffling as he cried through his words. "But everything clearly—" another harsh cry passed through him, his lip wobbling as he wept out his frustration. His pain.

"Everything did change, Yugs." Jungkook whimpered, and it made Yugyeom's arms around him tighten as they rubbed circles into his back. The other hand gently stroking his head, which Yugyeom pushed into his own shoulder, knowing how much Jungkook hated being seen while crying.

"They moved on without me , Yugs." Jungkook's voice quivered, a combination of both pure sorrow and surrender to his tone. Perhaps if Jungkook hadn't been so preoccupied, he would've noticed the sharp spike in anger coming from Yugyeom's aura.

"Shh, it's okay." Yugyeom cooed, continuing his delicate ministrations that kept Jungkook grounded. "We'll be okay, shhh—I'm here, Kookie. Things will get better, shhh."

Jungkook knew Yugyeom was letting him cry, he swore the witch had a minor at being an empath because he was so damn good at it. But sometimes, sobbing just felt good. The strings around his pinky burned, and it sprung another wave of tears from Jungkook at the physical reminder of what he'd lost.

"I—" He began breathlessly, "I see them nearly every day." He hiccuped.

"And," Jungkook sniffles as he tries to swallow down another sob. "And they're so happy, Yugs."

"Shh, I know." Yugyeom hummed, holding him closer. "They've moved on, Kookie, and that hurts, so let it hurt, yeah?" He continued to soothe, gently starting to fix Jungkook's tousled hair. "But what's important is that you don't let their moving on prevent you from moving on yourself."

Jungkook could feel himself come back down, the crest of his emotions wavering and breaking against the shore. Sobs no longer wracked through his body, but with every blink or two, tears still slipped down his waterline. He probably looked like a wreck; he felt like one, too.

Yugyeom still held him, brushing out his hair with his fingers and rubbing his back before reluctantly pulling Jungkook back. Snapping his fingers, Yugyeom summoned some tissues out of his bag. One tissue landed in Jungkook's hand, the sniffling witch blowing his nose before discarding the tissue in the table's small trash compartment.

Yugyeom grabbed another tissue, gently beginning to wipe Jungkook's tears away. The softness of the action nearly sprung wetness back to Jungkook's eyes alone. "I'm here for you, Bun, okay? So is my coven; they quite like you already." Yugyeom smiled, chuckling softly, "though that's not hard to do."

Jungkook smiled; well, at least tried to.

"Moving on is hard, Jungkook," Yugyeom whispered, soft and caring, as he fixed Jungkook back up. Wiping his eyes, combing his wild hair back with his fingers, fixing his rustled clothes. Jungkook simply let it happen, resigning himself to Yugyeom's doting aftercare. "But you're doing fucking great, bun," Yugyeom added, making Jungkook heave a little chuckle. His friend hardly ever swore, so hearing him cuss was always a little shocking.

"Let's get through this year together, yeah? One step at a time, as slow as you want." Jungkook could only nod to that proposition; it sounded good. Yugyeom flicked his hand, his handbag floating towards them as he beckoned it over. Scavenging through it shortly, Yugyeom pulled out his concealer and compound mirror. Gently, the witch began applying a little foundation over Jungkook's puffy red eyes.

"And once this year is over, and we develop that cure of yours, we'll go and do something fun." Yugyeom proposed, putting away the concealer stick and gently beginning to tap the foundation into his skin. "You like the beach, right? We'll go somewhere sunny, a place where the sun always shines, and the ocean's water is always blue." Jungkook smiled at the thought, his eyes drifting shut as Yugyeom worked around them. He pictured a place far away, where the food was great and the sights even better.

"A place where we'll probably be scammed out of all our money trying to buy a pair of coconuts," Yugyeom laughed. He sounded exasperated, but despite having his eyes closed, Jungkook could just tell the other witch was wearing a fond smile.

"We'll probably be burnt to a crisp within the first few hours." Jungkook snickered, nose scrunching up as he pictured the both of them red and sore as they moped about in their hotel room.

"Oh! We should give each other those sunscreen tattoos. I'll draw you a little bunny; wouldn't that be cute?" Yugyeom gushed. Jungkook smiled, opening his eyes and looking into the small compound mirror Yugyeom held up for him. His reflection looked more composed despite the still bloodshot tint to his actual eyes; however, the telltale pinkness surrounding his eyes post-crying had been completely covered up. He looked better.

Jungkook couldn't help but smile, "Yeah, I'd like that."

A small jingle of bells resonated throughout the musty bookstore; the small ornament hung to the door frame was useful when neither Halmoni nor Jungkook was tending to the front desk. The crisp freshness from outside contrasted pleasantly with the subtle warmth within the actual store, causing both his and Yugyeom's cheeks to turn a subtle pink. But it was well past opening hours now; the trip from Viles was approximately ten hours without any delays. Jungkook still felt bad about making Yugyeom travel by train with him when he knew the witch could've easily transported them somewhere nearby. Despite the countless reassurances and the sheer gratitude he felt for Yugyeom's relentless support; Jungkook would never be able to shake off the guilt those efforts sparked, too.

"Oh lord, did I forget to lock the doors again?" Halmoni's distant voice echoed from the back of the store, making Jungkook shake his head. Yugyeom, on the other hand, seemed to be grinning a little. It still shocked Jungkook, despite what they had talked about on the train ride here, that Yugyeom really was interested in seeing the life Jungkook made for himself while they were apart. It touched him.

"Sorry, Loves, but the store is closed! Come back tomorrow at noon." Halmoni ushered, coming out from the back door and hurriedly brushing her hands off on her clothes, leaving small flour stains.

"What did I tell you about locking the doors, Halmoni? It's not safe." Jungkook finally announced, smiling kindly as he walked forward. Chae-won gasped joyfully, finally spotting the two and letting out a happy but gentle squeal.

"Oh, look what the cat dragged in! Ought' to be my lucky day today, but I ain't really surprised." Jungkook chuckled at his energetic Halmoni, letting himself be enveloped in a bone-crushing embrace. Chae-won's hugs were the best, in Jungkook's opinion, and the sweet old woman always smelt faintly of cinnamon and citrus teas.

"You're not surprised?" Jungkook asked, a slight pout on his lips. He had come here unannounced, partially because he knew his Halmoni would send him away if he did tell her. But love and care went both ways, and Jungkook would always make time for his family.

"Mhm, the cards told me you were coming." Chae-won mused, a happy smile stretched across her slightly wrinkly features. Card reading was a debated topic amongst magicals, mostly due to its popularity amongst humans. Tarot cards or fortune telling was a popular sham amongst the community, so when witches like Halmoni practiced the craft, it was often downgraded. But Jungkook knew better; most, if not all, readings his Halmoni had ever done came true. Sure, once Chae-won had predicted something fragile in Jungkook's life would soon break, promptly leaving the witch on edge for the remainder of the week, only for the prediction to come true in the form of a small porcelain teacup.

So, the predictions do come true, but perhaps not in the grand form everyone expects them to. "They also told me," she began, now turning to Yugyeom, "You were bringing someone special along with you."

Yugyeom had stood by one of the bookshelves as Jungkooks and Chae-won reunited, a relaxed expression on the other witch's face. Jungkook nodded, his own dopey smile stretching across his lips. Never— never , had Jungkook imagined introducing someone from his old life, someone as special as Yugyeom, to his Halmoni.

“Mhm, Halmoni, this is Yugyeom. I've told you about him before, remember?" Jungkook prompted Chae-won to turn to the now slightly nervous witch. It was clear Yugyeom wanted to be liked by Chae-won, which was what Jungkook had garnered from his perspective; his best friend viewed his Halmoni as Jungkook's family.

In many ways, Yugyeom was absolutely right with that assumption.

"Ah!" Halmoni gasped, clapping her hands together in a sound of recognition as she rushed over and pulled Yugyeom into a crushing embrace, too.

"The little good-doer from Jungkook's past, I've heard much about you." Over Chae-won's shoulder, Yugyeom mouthed the words ‘g ood-doer?' back to Jungkook, a teasing glint in his eyes. Jungkook rubbed his neck sheepishly; after about a year of living with the old witch, Jungkook had finally opened up a little. Throughout their time spent together in total, Jungkook would leave breadcrumbs of his past out for Halmoni to judge—only, that judgment never really came.

"Oh, it's lovely meeting you, cherub. Come, come! Let's move inside, I'll make tea." Chae-won cheered, ushering both of the young witches behind the counter and into the apartment. Taking off their coats and setting down their bags, Jungkook got an odd sense of deja vu being sat back in the living room, a steaming cup of tea resting in his hand.

Yugyeom looked around, sitting adjacent to the couch in an old-looking armchair. There were two armchairs and a couch, all three wearing the same striped pattern of pastel pink, white, and yellow. Chae-won was the stereotypical, soothing grandma—her furniture wasn't exempt from that. But Jungkook loved it; the colors, the furniture, and the coziness from the nearby fireplace made it feel like an escape from his otherwise dreary world.

"Yah, look Kookie!" Yugyeom gasped, arching over the coffee table and grabbing a flimsy magazine. Chae-won was sweet as sugar, but no one could deny the fact that the old witch was a sucker for gossip. The personal kingpin of rumors, secrets, and scandals. So seeing a magazine on his Halmonis coffee table wasn't unusual—no, what made Yugyeom strike out in the first place was the magazine's front cover. A candid photo of Jungkook crossing the street in a gray bucket hat and face mask, looking slightly off from where the photo must've been taken. Above the shot, written in bold black letters read, "JJK Revealed! The Real Deal or Just a Phony?"

"Phony! Aish, those bastards!" Yugyeom protested, plopping the magazine back on the wooden table while crossing his arms, muttering promises of hexes and curses.

"You didn't know? Kookies made quite the uproar lately, nearly everyones talking about it—Oh, even your old mentor gave a brief chat with MCA Health Association, to y'know;" Chae-won gushed, one hand cupping her cheek and the other moving enthusiastically as she talked, "confirm your identity and all."

"How dare they still call Jungkook a phony then—I mean, it's a direct hit to Kookie's integrity!" Yugyeom groused, huffing softly before abruptly turning his body towards Jungkook. "You should deny them healthcare!"

Jungkook spluttered, momentarily caught off guard as he coughed on the short sip of tea he swallowed. Shakily, he set the teacup down before he threatened Chae-won's precious porcelain. "Yeah, not exactly legal, Yugs," he remarked with a duh kinda tone, but his smile persisted. Honestly, Jungkook felt unnerved that his face was in a literal magazine, front page and all.

How had he not noticed this?

"You're complaining? I had to find out my little Kookie-dearest," Chae-won's tone darkened, yet her menacing little grin remained as she spoke, "Was going public through the morning news." Chae-won's smile didn't make her eyes crinkle, and with that overly unctuous goading tone, Jungkook quickly realized: he was fucked.

Jungkook huffed a peal of nervous laughter, straightening up underneath Chae-won's analytic stare as he stammered for a reason. Nothing had gone down the way Jungkook had actually wanted or planned for, between seeing his ex-soulmates again, meeting up with Yugyeom, and the worsening condition of his health. Jungkook simply forgot to tell her, which—considering the sheer amount of drama he's been living through was probably a more severe crime for his Halmoni.

Yugyeom, being the angel that he was, immediately hopped onto Chae-won's train of thought. Setting his teacup down, Yugyeom gasped in his ever-hyperbolic fashion, shaking his head with clear disapproval. "Not even a call? Aish, kids these days. No manners."

Chae-won nodded stringently, heaving out a long, dramatic sigh. "Alas, not even my own boy grew up to be respectful of his dear Halmoni."

Jungkook sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, clearly exasperated at their teasing. "Sorry Halmoni, things at Viles grew so damn hectic so quickly, I completely forgot to call you."

Chae-won hummed in faux conviction, but her gaze and aura thankfully returned to its usual peacefulness. Feeling like a fish out of shark-infested waters, Jungkook released a small breath as his tense shoulders eased.

"Oh! My apologies, cherubs. Are any of you two hungry?" Chae-won perked, sounding nearly aghast at her supposed negligence. It prompted Jungkook to raise both his hands, moving them in a hopefully soothing manner.

"No, no, I'm good, unless—" He glanced at Yugyeom, the amused witch shaking his head quickly in agreement. "We had tteokbokki on the way back from the train station," Yugyeom chimed in, smiling encouragingly as Chae-won stare remained unconvinced.

A fake, exaggerated scow, twisting her features until she deemed both their answers honest—and their faces plump enough—to lower back down. One of her hands grasped her lower back while the other stabilized itself on the armchair. Hissing a little as she sat, her hand beginning to rub a soothing pattern into the aching tissue.

"Aish, Halmoni, how long has your back been hurting for?" Jungkook asked, frowning as he quickly inspected his Halmoni more closely.

Chae-won waved his concerns off with her hand, shaking her head. "None of that now; I don't need you fussing over little old me."

"Is it the muscle that's hurting?" Jungkook brushed her off; perhaps he learned how to do that from Chae-won himself; both of them had stubborn tendencies. Jungkook was experienced; if his Halmoni really was in pain, he wouldn't mind spending a few days, if not weeks, trying to create a proper tincture to diminish her discomfort. Sure, it would cut into his research time, but Chae-won was worth it. Besides, if it really was just a surface-level muscle or tissue problem, a simple balm could help. Those weren’t necessarily as hard to solve as terminal, magically unstable diseases.

There weren't many benefits to Jungkook's dreary, chromatic lifestyle. However, if a doctor ever broke unpleasant news to any of his loved ones, Jungkook would only be getting started.

If it doesn't exist, then he will simply have to make it exist.

"Oh, I was just picking up a new delivery, Sojun—you know, the usual delivery boy," She briefly turned to Yugyeom, " such a sweetheart—anyways, he'd broken his leg, so he couldn't help me. I think I might've pulled something by picking the box up myself." Chae-won explained, making Jungkook sigh as he got up.

"Alright, I'll see if I can mix something up for you." He still had most of his previous supplies in his bedroom—well, a laboratory with a little cozy bed corner would be more accurate. Chae-won only hummed, shaking her head. "I couldn't even stop you now, even if I wanted to." She mused, tone fond as Jungkook walked over. He leaned down, pressing a quick peck against his Halmonis cheek.

"Nope."

Yugyeom laughed, getting up himself. "Should I clear out the dishes for you?" He asked, wanting to be mindful of Chae-won's back. The elderly witch shook her head, "That's sweet, deary, but no. I'll do it in the morning; off you two go now. Get some rest."

Jungkook carefully propped his hands against Chae-won's arms, helping the switch stand back up before walking back to the front door and collecting Yugyeoms and his luggage. The two passed Chae-won briefly in the hallway, "Goodnight, cherubs," she sang softly before closing her door.

Yugyeom smiled, although his attention was quickly shifted to Jungkook's bedroom. It was partially cleaned, the interior remaining the same despite his desk having been organized a little more before he left. The shelf adjacent to the table still contained a row of herbs in vials, small little corks keeping dried assortments from growing moist.

"Wow, so this is where you've been hiding out, huh?" Yugyeom remarked before beelining towards the cozy bed area and flopping onto the downy covered mattress. "It's so…" the witch began, glancing over the still remaining green plants, the windows lining the walls and leaving a view of the streets and city, the bed covered in a thick downy comforter and layered with a few fluffy toppers and pillows. " You. "

Jungkook hummed, scoffing a little at those words. "I can't tell whether or not you just insulted me." He mumbled, chuckling a little under his breath as Yugyeom grinned at him in return.

"Why don't you shower first? The bathroom is the door opposite to mine; I'll just whip something up for Halmoni real quick." Jungkook suggested, turning his attention towards his supplies while Yugyeom rummaged around behind him before eventually leaving for the earlier-mentioned bathroom. It gave Jungkook a moment to think before eventually grabbing a mortar and pestle and setting it on his desk.

Humming quietly as he worked, Jungkook grabbed some wispthron root, shadefern, lavender, and embermint before grinding the leaves diligently into a powder. The ground herbs began emitting a strong, herbal, and medicinal scent; the lavender notes slowly growing more pungent. Jungkook eventually stopped, grabbing one of his packed notebooks and flipping through a few pages until he stopped on his research concerning muscle and joint pain.

He wasn't a stranger to muscle or joint pain either, nearly sitting hunched over a desk all day or his own illness affecting his joints; he was familiar with the throbbing discomfort. Skimming over his past notes, Jungkook began grabbing some of his liquid tinctures and adding them to the mortar. He kept grinding the stone pestle in a slow, rhythmic, circular motion until the balm began taking on a creamy texture.

"Wow—"

"Gah!"

Jungkook jumped, grasping the part of his shirt that lay over his heart. Turning to Yugyeom, the other witch clearly tried to stifle his laughter by looking away. "Sorry, Bun, I didn't realize you hadn't noticed me walk in." Yugyeom shrugged, walking over to the bed as he continued towel-drying his hair. Jungkook couldn't necessarily be mad at Yugyeom; it wasn't the witch's fault. Jungkook just wasn't used to having Yugyeom in his old room yet; Halmoni rarely ever entered unless he hadn't come down in a few hours.

Seeing Yugyeom by his side still felt so new .

"I just can't believe you don't realize how impressive you're being." Yugyeom shrugged, letting the now-damp towel flop onto the floor. He wasn't really sure how to reply to that; Jungkook didn't feel amazing. He felt like a fraud, a con artist who managed to fool the world into thinking he was some impassioned, philanthropic healer.

He wasn't.

Clearing his throat to try and clear the sudden lump in his throat, he looked away as Yugyeom's face fell from his response. But Jungkook was tired of lying, and he knew that he couldn't say a single word about his true feelings toward the subject without getting a few hours with therapist Yugyeom. Yugyeom was already doing much for him.

"Anyways, I'll go take this over to Halmoni and hop in the shower." He hummed, cutting Yugyeom off before the witch could inquire about the sudden shift in atmosphere, grabbing the mortar before stepping out of his room.

Walking down the creaking hall, he softly knocked on Chae-won's door, waiting for a soft-spoken acknowledgment before entering. Chae-won's room was already prepped for nighttime; the embroidered curtains hung closed, the only light in the room emitting from an old lightbulb attached to her bedside lamp. The room smelt distinctly of floral herbs, the blend of her favorite teas nearly making the air sweet. "I made you an ointment for your back. It has emberfern in it, so it'll be a little warming." Jungkook walked over, the floorboard squeaking softly underneath his steps. Chae-won hummed, setting the book in her hands on the nightstand.

"What a busy-bee you are," she mused with a fond tiredness. Jungkook smiled in return, helping his Halmoni up into a proper sitting position. Shifting slightly so he could apply the balm onto her lower back, under her guidance, Jungkook made sure to rub the created balm into the right places. The silence stretched as he worked, not setting the mortar down until he was satisfied. "Oh, I can feel the heat already." Chae-won chuckled, huffing a small sigh as Jungkook helped her lay back down. He propped another pillow against her back, wanting to support her back a little more as she rested. Deeming her position comfortable enough, he couldn't help but fuss a little more as he tried tucking her in.

Halmoni promptly swatted his hand away, a playful mirth to her eyes. "I may be old, but I'm not dying, bun."

Jungkook laughed, nodding softly as he sat beside her. His legs were still touching the warped floorboards, his side briefly touching her blanketed legs. It felt strange to only be visiting his Halmoni. He had missed her.

With Chae-won's all-knowing gaze, she hummed in faux surprise before gently grabbing his cold hands within her aged ones. Despite the visible spotting and freckled skin from years of sun exposure, Halmoni's hands always felt so soft. Warm, like a gentle hug. "What's with the sad face, bun?"

Shaking his head, Jungkook had hoped to brush off the concerns from his Halmoni. But her penetrative gaze was merciless, and before he could even register his surrender, his shoulders sagged slowly. "I just missed you, it's—"He paused. The avow felt incomplete, but he wasn't really sure what to say in order to properly explain how he felt.

"Strange?" Halmoni finished, finding the words for him.

Nodding, Jungkook let those words dangle in the air between them. It did feel strange; for a long time, it had just been Halmoni and him. Two witches handling a bookstore, inadvertently creating a family where there shouldn't be any. But they had, and it was the best damn family Jungkooks ever had.

"It is strange." Halmoni began; her slightly hoarse voice made everything sound so simple. Clear. "I had you under my wing for nearly six years; that's a long time, cherub. It's certainly strange to not see your face every morning in the kitchen, or mending the front desk, stocking up shelves, chatting with customers."

Jungkook hadn't really realized how much he had missed that. The strange bundle of nurses that had been tussling around his chest throughout the last twenty-four hours, not light or heavy but strongly eager, finally gave itself a name: homesickness . Jungkook had been, and still was, feeling homesick.

"I missed you." He whispered, focusing intently on the witch's hands. Halmoni had been married once, an old, worn-down wedding ring still adorning her left ring finger. There weren't any photos within the apartment except her room; beside her nightstand stood a small, wooden picture frame. The picture was clearly old and slightly discolored, and faint web-like lines gave way to a few crinkles within the paper. It was Halmoni's wedding day.

Halmoni rarely talked about her husband, but whenever she did, her tone filled with such tender adoration that Jungkook briefly wondered if he'd be mourned similarly when he died. If he'd ever be loved the way she loved him by someone else. Of course, Jungkook was no stranger to those cumbersome questions. As rhetorical as they might be, Jungkook never wanted to meet the day when he'd find an answer. To see such a day would imply that he'd died.

"Oh bun," Halmoni cooed, her calm voice pulling Jungkook out of his melancholic thoughts. He looked up at her, and despite the tiredness that seemed to pull her face down just a bit. She smiled in all her endearing glory. "I missed you too," her hands carefully began brushing over his. A rhythmic pattern between gentle strokes and small taps. "And although it's strange, that doesn't mean it's something bad. You know you'll always have me, kiddo." Halmoni chuckled, executing her words with quick, short taps against his hand.

"Take that as you will."

Jungkook laughed wetly at the pent-up emotions he felt, but he felt like he had done so much crying lately. He'd cried similar amounts after leaving Hangawoondae, but these tears he kept shedding felt different.

"It's good. You're doing good, hun. This old bookstore ain't going nowhere, and it's served its purpose." Jungkook nodded absently. Halmoni was right (again) when Jungkook was first invited into the bookstore to seek shelter from the rain. He'd unknowingly discovered what would become his place of refuge for far longer than just crying clouds; the disorganized shelves, crooked floorboards, and always steaming teas would become his home. An anchor of sorts.

"I don't think I'll ever be able to find a place like this again, Halmoni." He argued weakly; the thought of this apartment, worn-down as it may be, felt like such a safe space. The thought of needing to find someone new one day, again, felt more daunting. An antsy kind of anxiety sparked at the sheer idea, making his leg gently bounce with jittery nerves. It felt hard to swallow, and Jungkook had to focus on his breathing to try and keep this potential breakdown at bay.

"Oh hush," Halmoni gently slapped his hand, tone chiding. It reminded him of Balam, the strict cat most likely resting on a fluffy blanket about now. Unfortunately, the university's spirit animals weren't allowed to leave campus; they were bound to the grounds unless given specific permission to pass through the protective wards concealing the land.

"Of course you will! You're you, bun, one of the most incredible witches I've ever met." Halmoni encouraged, making Jungkook smile dimly. Shifting her hands to now fully grasp his, she squeezed them gently, "You don't have to do it alone."

"You have Yugyeom." She reminded, lifting her hand and gently combing back his fringe. "Soon, I'm sure you'll have more friends. The cards told me so, you'll be okay."

Jungkook soaked in those words, briefly skimming back to what Yugyeom had said during their train ride here. He didn't feel okay, but he was growing hopeful. Somehow, Jungkook had faith again that one day, he would be. He didn't trust his voice, so he simply took to a hesitant nod.

"Oh, Kookie, come here." Halmoni gushed, cooing softly as she tenderly pulled him into a hug. It lasted for a while, Jungkook briefly taking a moment to breathe in oranges and ginger of chae-won's perfume, letting himself be wrapped up in the gentle warmth that was his Halmonis hugs before pulling away.

"I love you, kiddo."

"I love you too, Halmoni."

Jungkook quietly closed the bathroom door, the old hinges hissing softly as he shut it. The ventilation fan in the bathroom was loud, so closing the door would hopefully dim the obnoxious buzzing the old machine made. Tip-toeing down the hall and into his bedroom, he did his best to avoid the floorboard he knew would creak, glancing briefly at the figure lying in his bed.

The lights were already turned off, as Jungkook had taken much longer in his Halmonis room than planned. After their heart-to-heart, he briefly told her about what had actually happened in the past two weeks since he was away. Seeing her old features jump from pride to shock, then to anger, before settling on sympathy was amusing. Her fondness for Balam and Yugyeom grew throughout the conversation, but her animosity towards his old soulmates seemed to grow further.

With a few more hugs and confident reassurance that her back was already feeling better, Jungkook had left. Having showered quickly, he now found himself glancing at his usually empty room. It used to feel so lonely at night. But seeing Yugyeom's familiar head of hair poking out from the comforter, the emptiness contained within these walls faded. Slipping into the bed and ducking underneath the covers, Jungkook settled on his back, eyes following habit as he stared up through his ceiling window. The starry sky—as star-filled as the nighttime could be within a city—looked back at him.

Yugyeom moved beside him, the fabric rustling quietly in the silent room before an arm curled around him. Jungkook glanced over, features turning apologetic as he looked into Yugyeom's sleepy gaze. "Did I wake you?" He whispered, his hand resting on Yugyeom's outstretched forearm.

"No," Yugyeom replied groggily. Liar.

Jungkook chuckled, "Get some sleep, Yuggy."

Yugyeom grunted a reply, nuzzling his face briefly into one of the pillows before sighing. "I like your Halmoni," he began before being cut off by a big yawn.

Jungkook chuckled, smiling contently. It was important to him that they approved of each other, knowing that they did brought him peace. "She likes you, too." He hummed quietly. He could practically feel Yugyeom smile, his hand gently beginning to rub the sleepy witch's arm.

"When we go to that sunny place, let's bring her a souvenir, okay?" Yugyeom suggested, prompting another fond chuckle from Jungkook. He felt tired, but the ache in his own joints seemed far away with Yugyeom there. Talking about brighter days.

"Sure, that sounds good." He hummed, his voice sounding hesitant. He did believe Yugyeom, but there would always be lingering doubts. Although it was a grim reality, Jungkook dying still was a very real possibility. He knew Yugyeom didn't like thinking about—Gods; Jungkook couldn't even fathom the thought of Yugyeom dying. The simple thought was a good way to get one foot into having a potential breakdown over nothing.

Yugyeom slid his arm off of Jungkook, perching himself up on his forearms instead. He leveled Jungkook with a stern gaze, apparently disliking the level of uncertainty he had answered with. "Don't talk like that," Yugyeom muttered. Reaching out, the sleepy witch grabbed his hand before wrapping their pinkies together. Red strings tied to each, fraying off into opposite directions.

"I promise—you hear? I promise you, Kookie, I'll get us there. A place where the sand is always soft, the water warm, and the air fresh."

Jungkook smiled a bittersweet and rueful smile that was hidden within the darkness of his room. The hope that had been planted just a few days ago was gradually beginning to sprout. He nodded, leaning over to kiss Yugyeom's brow.

Jungkook believed him—even if what Yugyeom was describing sounded oddly like heaven.

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