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Bad Things Happen Bingo: Rage against the reflection - Boreas and Orion Words: 10 613 (woops) Warnings: war and horrors of it, murder, Boreas being shit at healthy sibling relationships

Boreas’ Blessing was supposed to be a correction of the mistake that was the true first Iterator of the Eo group, Abet Zephyr. Named after the strongest wind god, begging him to bless and reach through this Iterator in kindness. A great bio-machine that was a gift to both the world and a divinity.

Physically he was made larger than any other. Stronger, more durable, with the ability to fix any damage to him in record time by giving him the ability to command and produce the fixing microbes usually used in buildings beneath the clouds. That required him to be aware of every last piece of his facility grounds- anything that the Anemons would want to last. And so he is aware of every footstep that falls on the streets of his city, Desaevio. He knows what animals crawl through the pipes in the lowest reaches of his pillars, what feeds in his farm arrays, what his Houses say even in the tallest building. Omnipresent… Once his facilities are entered, he sees you.

Capable of rearranging molecules as he sees fit, the industrial miracle that he already was became an industrial hub. Almost any complex material anyone in the Eo group receives is basically conjured out of thin air by him.

Even in the weaving of his genes an exception was made within his taboos. As a determined capital city of the group, the Aeolus Council decided to grant him a little more freedom for the benefit of public safety. Or their own, the more cynical ones say.

Personality-wise he was programmed to be especially protective, of both himself and his citizens and with the taboo exception of being able to attack and kill an invader he’s well able to follow this personality urge. It is said that there are still leftovers of other strings of code that dictated him to be loving and kind, soft and considerate, patient, understanding. All that one would want from a protector.

But programming an Iterator personality is… a kind of a minute thing. Personalities (especially theirs) are able to develop and change as an individual learns about the world in order to adapt to it. And what is a bigger incentive for a need of adaptation than traumatization.

Orion’s Pathway still remembers his elder brother before the change.

Because things started changing once Orion’s construction was announced to the public and things *really* changed when he was finished being built, Abet Zephyr explained to him one day.

She continued clearing up his confusion by disclosing that Orion pretty much carries the same core aspects of personality like Boreas originally did. Basically the same is the case with the physical build of Orion’s superstructure.

Boreas just worked out for the engineers of the Eo group, so they took the success and copied it at a smaller scale without so many revolutionary technologies and built it all some distance away in the northeast, at the edge of Root Aeolus’ range.

For all purposes and reasons, Orion is just a humbler Boreas 2.0 with a different name, city and puppet.

“A brother!” She said, clumsily trying to sound comforting through the ever present static and glitches in her voice. “A… reflection of what he could have been, now. Perhaps what he *should* have been.” She continued, sadder than usual but still holding on to her characteristical solemnity.

“Why isn’t he that reflection himself, then? Find himself a reflective surface, stare at it, cut it at that. He scoffs at me now, levels me with glares and contempt. I know he’s been hurt, but I do not know how. He didn’t look at me that day, I didn’t call out for him.” Oh how frustrated Orion has been with this.

At first he did feel that brotherhood with Boreas’ Blessing. He felt close to the other and the other guided him as he caught his bearings. Suddenly existing, being alive, wielding such a giant and mighty body through multitudes of smaller bodies is no easy task. He was forever thankful when his Mechanics reported for duty and, wonderfully, Boreas reached out to him through a broadcast.

Who better to walk him through the art of gentleness than someone who politely closed doors behind his citizens, carefully played and joked with children thousands of times smaller than him, softly turned on each streetlamp as the sun slowly set in the west.

Though Orion has no such control over the city of Terminus, Boreas holding his hand through the familiarization process was… well, a blessing. Boreas was truly a blessing. But now…

“It isn’t my fault he got hurt.” He says to senior Abet Zephyr, frowning, pouting the best the limited face of his puppet can. “I refuse to take responsibility for it as he seems to wish for me to do or weather this treatment. I don’t want it. Let him stew in it and shrivel up.” He crosses his arms, letting the simple childish anger at it pool right out through his words.

“I do not blame nor fault you for that, Orion. But watch your tone.” She hisses, immediately righting a wrong he doesn’t see yet. It’s a bit too sharp for the barely one year old him and he flinches away. To that, she immediately softens. Gives him an apologetic nod of her head that makes her spine creak terribly.

He forgives- she already fretted, uncomfortable and worried about interacting with him, about how little experience she has with being gentle. Everything of her is sharp edges and rabid agony. She’s trying to learn despite *all that* and never means to cut either of her little brothers. That is all Orion really needs to know.

“Watch your tone, watch your tone…” shushed, she reiterates. “Not for Boreas’ s-sake, but yours. Arrogance and disinterest are a poison. Do your best to keep yourself clean of them as long as possible. As much as this damn world allows. Balance of loving yourself and lack of expansion over other’s presence is important, child. You do not have the right to spit and look down upon someone else, wish them wrong.”

Sigh. “We all are riddled with faults and only one that is without mistakes would have a right to do that. None exists- such as that.”

“Ah.” He nods, understanding. He files the lesson away to a different front of his mind to ponder it after the call. “I know my worth. And that value doesn’t agree with this treatment.”

“Mm. I agree-e with your evaluation.”

“What am I to do, then?”

Abet Zephyr considers. Maybe how much should she point him towards answers, after all he needs to learn. Including such a thing as thinking for himself. Or maybe she’s trying to parse how to navigate through the relationships. Between him and Boreas, but also herself and him.

…they’ve only had each other for so long. Each time Boreas spoke about her to him, before this conundrum, his face took on the softest expression. He has seen how much joy their banter brings the both of them. Orion wouldn’t blame her if she wouldn’t be able to give him a harsh option.

“You could completely cut him off.”

Blink blink. So maybe he’s wrong! “I could What???” In terrible confusion, he shrugs at her. “I thought you two are extremely close??”

Completely unfazed, Abet Zephyr waves a hand as if trying to sweep away the stupid question. “That we are, yes. Of course.” “Then? Isn’t that a bit cruel?”

“You are not me, child. Your situation-tion with him is very different from mine in many facets. He would never dare to dismiss *me* as a mirror or some spectre representing the potential of his past self, yet to be twisted. That is a serious thing, you need to act appropriately.”

“Mh…”

“But yes, that is sort of the… worst case scenario solution,” she admits, squinting. Her bad eye flickers and the next words come hard, through a wall of white noise. “I would… recommend attemptin…g.. to talk about it. Warn twice, cut once- s-ssee how he will r…”

With a shudder, her puppet slumps forward against its knees. The speakers crackle into quiet and the few internal pieces of her still functioning whine behind the walls.

That is his cue to leave.

To the unresponsive empty puppet, to the trapped suffering Hivemind consciousness of his older sister, Orion gives a respectful bow and whispers a gentle thank you, tinted with mourning. He wishes her that this episode won’t stretch for too long.

The Overseer rejoins with the rest of Orion’s Pathway Hivemind safely. The Individuality marvels at the reconnection, the members drink in the little eye’s sensation of travel. The feeling washes over them- it’s like a breath of fresh air.

Riding the high of it, everyone comes together and they call Boreas, positive that it’s going to get better and they’ll have their brother Hivemind back again as it used to be.

…it doesn’t get better.

The moment Boreas sees him, hears Orion’s voice, his face twists into an ugly thing. He pretends to listen for a second and then tells him to go away without a single attempt to engage with the topic. Orion gets angry and puts a bit too much of an uncompromising tone for Boreas’ taste into his next sentence.

That apparently justifies growling, screaming, threats… he pulls out of the conversation scared.

And when the Mechanics ask him why the readings are telling them the whole Hivemind is having a panic attack, he refuses to disclose it. Only asks them to help him calm down artificially.

Things with Boreas get some worse each time Orion tries to reach out and talk (it's been more than twice. why isn't he cutting, why is he still taking this-) until they finally plateau at Shitty.

Orion’s Pathway learns how to work all by himself in record time, baffling the exchange Mechanics from the Wellspring continent. They say that it’s usual and healthy for Iterators to interact and bounce ideas and theories off of each other, even if loneliness may be a good tool within the spirituality. The Anemons can’t really keep up with them, day and night, so they need each other especially while they are still maturing. They whisper behind his back that they are worried he will be broken. He hears them by accident and they are sorry.

Still he doesn’t say that he’s unwilling to interact with the only Iterator whom’s existence they acknowledge in this group, because he is a terrifying and mean one- they know that anyway. And they don’t care that they are maintaining that rabid dog. Maybe if he told them, they would’ve tried connecting him to an Iterator from a different group, but well… he chooses the polite silence.

As for his only other choice, senior Abet Zephyr… she tries to be there for him. She teaches him the lessons that she can, mostly about morality and philosophy they are supposed to dedicate their function to. But she can’t do much more. Her own hardware is mangled beyond recognition. She doesn’t have any pointers or tips on how to wield the lab equipment reasonably. Even then, she’s often too tired to speak or is just left straight up unresponsive.

So the Iterator adorned with a star for a blazon clenches his metaphorical jaw and forces himself through the learning process. It feels like the entirety of him starts adopting some of the cold of the northern hemisphere directly into his chest. Too weak to handle loneliness by himself.

Then a new Iterator came online.

Inconvenient Sporadic Change has strange eyes. They are white and wide, with emotive pupils, usually filled with nervousness and panic. The Anemons say one of her main purposes will be researching medicine and other hospital-related things. Her city, Chlora, was even built in such a way so she could interact with the Anemons more directly. Even with the fragile infants!

And… She stays without help longer than he did.

Orion counted on Boreas making the first step, what with it being his job as the available senior. Calling her, explaining to her who and what they all are, how to work her comms and so on. But he didn’t.

When he realizes that this poor new person has been left alone far too long because of his (correct) assumptions, he reaches out immediately. He stays with her for three days and nights, showing her things, answering all questions she had… getting to know her.

Spore’s laughter is a shy pretty thing, her smile something to stay warm for. She often falls into the state without Individuality, says they find it comfortable to just exist with each other much to his intrigued surprise. She was given a mushroom cap hat for her puppet and they all love it! Pulled at the sides of it, framing her face, making him grin. She said, ‘I adore taking care of everyone, they are like miracles to us- wondrous just by living.’ and suddenly there was magic in the world, brought to him by her.

They grow close extremely quickly, upgrade to nicknames basically immediately even though the Anemon customs usually go against that, out of respect for strangers. But she’s his little sister Spore and he will protect and accompany her till the end of their lives. He’s her big brother Ori and she will make him smile, be his companion. They are each other’s, holding hands through radio waves.

And they will be alright.

The next Iterator created is Aftertaste of Disdain. She is a very strange one. She cuts without an issue, unlike him.

He waited for Boreas to make the first step again for a day, but of course he disappointed on that front. So he reached out to her. And what did Aftertaste of Disdain do???

She Declined The Damn Call.

Who the hell declines their first call. Who the hell knows HOW to decline their first call. One usually fumbles around trying to answer it before it automatically goes through. What is this.

She writes him a message (a message!!! he didn’t figure those out until they were shown to him!!) about five hours later.

AoD: Pardon me, I was negotiating with a ghost. What did you seek to converse about, sir?

Again. What the hell is this.

OP: You were What? AoD: Negotiating with a ghost. OP: Negotiating with a *ghost???* AoD: Yes, sir. OP: They are actually real? Wait- and- How. You are barely two cycles old. AoD: Well, the bloke sort of infiltrated my facilities out of nowhere while I was going through the list of my functions for orientation purposes. He was a bit upset about my existence I’ve gathered, something about throwing shade at his chosen place of haunting? And then he started spitting hard to discern rubbish. AoD: I tried to reason with the fellow at first, but he was so bloody mad he refused to listen. I concluded he was a few sandwiches short of a picnic and upon his next outburst- which happened approximately 2.451 seconds after my conclusion- I began to throw hands. OP: With a Ghost??? AoD: With a ghost. AoD: It was a battle of wits and mind! I’ve even managed to chaff him a tad here and there, too! Bloody radical. The mind more so as in he was only capable of mental attacks so I turned to my nature as a Hivemind and committed to ensnaring the fellow by the encircling method. Like predatory animals. AoD: You understand. To make another attempt at communication. Unlike predatory animals.

Oh he’s hooked now.

OP: Uh-huh, I do. AoD: At first I was a little worried. As you have pointed out, I happen to be barely two measly cycles old. The nerve! He tried to possess us! OP: Oh no- AoD: I had gone majorly unpossessed however. Worry not, good sir. OP: Oh, thank the void! AoD: Indeed. AoD: At some point we’ve collectively realized the ghost is more a nuisance than a serious threat. You see, we were too plentiful for him to effectively overtake, especially while divided, out of our state as an Individual.

Saints dammit, this literal baby has a better grip on her identity than him. She already weaponized it, someone has to be pulling his leg.

AoD: He jumped from multiple neuron flies, Inspectors, spider starfish, streak antiseptics, rest docks and, most notably, he somehow managed to possess the same Attendant five times. It was Attendant #3546. We dubbed it the unluckiest bloke present within our internal facilities. OP: That’s tough. AoD: Yes. It is currently sending in a very minor despondency. We are performing soothing procedures as we speak. AoD: Either way, with our acknowledgement that he is unable to seriously harm us, we’ve changed our approach to the situation to a more reckless one. AoD: It had proved to be an alright call. We ensnared the fellow within twenty minutes afterwards. The negotiating took up the largest amount of time. AoD: Turns out ghosts are susceptible to emotional outbursts they cannot control as a result of their manic clinging to the physical world (which is of emotional nature too) rather than passing onto the next incarnation. Maybe this is already a known fact, but given the circumstances, I did not have the chance to read up on them yet.

It is… not a known fact. Not as far as he can see in the entry on ghosts and spectres he absentmindedly looked up. These things aren’t researched too much. Ghosts are like the exact opposite of what Iterators are searching for- how to stop being a slave to the Great Cycle en masse. There *are* the Echoes which are actually the reason for the existence of the Iterators, but those can allegedly occur only when the Void Fluid is involved.

OP: That is very much understandable. You’ve handled the situation very well! AoD: Thank you, sir. This whole tale ultimately culminates in the fact that I now have a new Hivemind-mate. OP: You didn’t exorcise it-??! AoD: Sir, with all due respect, that is my buddy now. AoD: So. What did you wish to speak about?

Aftertaste of Disdain, to say the least, ends up being a great addition to their slowly growing group. At this point in time they are able to reach out to Iterators in other groups without much trouble, but having their own team grow is… nice. Especially considering the first two members are generally unavailable. Most of the time it’s just him, Spore and Disdain in all of their work-related discussions.

Spore and Abet Zephyr get along well, in retrospect. With how sensitive Spore is, Zephyr visibly acts like she’s walking on broken glass around her, but it’s endearing more than demeaning. Spore appreciates it. It’s all kind of adorable. Which is weird to call senior Abet Zephyr, but it sure is happening.

With Disdain it was another whiplash.

He was sort of worried at first. Both of them don’t like beating around the bush much. He found out Disdain’s story about her wrestling match with a ghost was so long only because he kept prompting it- she was ready to drop the topic first sentence in, in favor of getting to the point of him initially calling her.

This was either going to end in an argument or-

The two ended up getting along swimmingly.

They greeted each other (very shortly and directly), they locked lenses for a while… and then proceeded to have a conversation with the least amount of fucks given he’s ever attended. Compared to the rigidly polite culture of the higher circle of Anemons he is used to- it was just plain obscene. Almost had a heart attack. At the end, Zephyr said that Disdain might be her favorite. He was too flabbergasted to react in any other way than nod.

Introducing the girls to Boreas was… Horrible.

Orion already went in with spite boiling in him. They should already know him. He should’ve been the first to meet them, with Abet Zephyr’s inability to do so. *He* should be introducing them to Orion right now.

With Spore it was worse. Of course.

They group called and barely managed to get a greeting out and he was already glaring. With Boreas being new to Spore, alongside being glared at with such passion, she flinched away from the screen real bad. He took a note of this and worsened that glare to something so intimidating that poor Spore squawked, apologized profusely for intruding while trembling like a leaf and left.

That was the first time the Orion Hivemind felt hate bubbling in their consciousness.

But as they looked from the place Spore’s screen was a moment ago to Boreas to confront him, the hate fizzled out unceremoniously. The expression now fixated on him. His eyes were sharper than the fangs of red lizards, more terrifying than the pittering steps of an unseen giant spider.

For a second, he tries to stand his ground. Tries to frown back and get them on an equal ground, make the reflection match. But he gives up, too afraid of his senior. He turns his head away in submission, breaks the line of sight with his winged antenna and finally, retreats.

The reflection is inherent, yet he can’t seem to make it at least match. He can’t take the stare.

When it comes to Disdain’s turn, he thinks he will do better. He ends up doing worse.

Mainly because instead of focusing on the newbie like last time, Boreas immediately levels Orion.

Disdain doesn’t let that slide and starts a fight. She calls their placeholder senior names, matches his vile glare without an issue, stubbornly doesn’t back away until the introductions are over. Orion isn’t sure if this is just how she is or if her alleged ghost roommate is backing her up and so she isn’t terrifyingly alone in this like he is, but… he thinks his- as of right now- youngest sister might be his hero.

He better tell her, one day. The thank you he left her with that day didn’t feel like enough.

This has become the norm. A new Iterator is built, Orion’s Pathway reaches out to them first and guides and teaches them as much as they need. Then he introduces them to Boreas’ Blessing which is always terrifying and sometimes Abet Zephyr, if the newbie is considerate and kind enough and she’s able to handle introductions.

Orion knows everyone so well. He knows something went wrong with Gem in an Eye’s sympathy modules and he’s trying to figure out how to help her- or he considers her state of being from a philosophical angle. He admires Ideas of Scales’ sense of justice, he hums songs with the mellow Of Forgotten Hiraeth and asks her about Zephyr, since she’s built oh so close and visits her often. He knows that despite his best attempts at indifference, it bothers Purpose of Time that the plating of his puppet is matte translucent and that it lacks legs. Or that Fish Inside a Birdcage might exclaim all the time he’s in no way a part of any Iterator group, but gets all giddy whenever Orion calls to share some of his recent iterations with him.

He shares stories with Reclusive Reed about the darkness of night and what it does to swamps, what fireflies up north look like once they dig themselves out of soil in summer. With Torched Beacon, they spin tall tales in free time about the seas that wash against their structures’ legs, make up fairies and gods to explain the waves rather than to turn to logic. Blunt End of an Arrowhead tells him all about wildlife and the hunting of it, her voice strong with authority that reminds him of seniors all across the globe, even though she is a Generation 2. And he admires her for that. Even though he is the Third, he doesn’t believe he’d make a good senior.

At this point, he’s been sort of forced into working with Boreas’ Blessing a few times. He still dodges eye contact, keeps the interactions as short as he can. But he doesn’t fear him like death itself anymore. The terror became old, familiar (and isn’t that even scarier). For the minutes of extreme discomfort born of direct long interaction when he has to introduce the newbies to Boreas because of protocol, he is willing to pay.

Because in these new people he found home and purpose, identity beyond being a scared reflection, trapped in a mirror not of his own making nor choice. These fellow communities of creatures, his family, expanded his world beyond the bounds of his superstructure, beyond his relationship with Boreas.

They *freed* him. Without them even knowing about it.

But everything comes apart at some point during the middle ages of the Generation 2 era.

There hasn’t been an actual war in the world in ages. With everyone focusing on the soft aspects of the world- the feelings, emotions, morality, mind, heart, predominantly the matters of the soul- nobody was exactly eager to start something that would end with mass bloodshed. It’d go right with the very first sin, the most basic one to get over. Wars were things of the past. Before the Void Fluid was found and the Global Religion blessedly took strong hold over the whole planet.

Anemons are people of introspection. Not of ammunition and blades.

Yet here one came. With him damn near right in the middle of it, unable to run away, being rooted in the earth as he is. There was no other choice than to become a military base. To iterate war tactics, to let his retaining walls be rebuilt into impossibly tall borders. To kill his identity as a holy, pure object- murder himself as a manmade god in favor of turning into a scout.

Well, first the reason for it-

One day, the group above the Children of Eo, called Frost’s Promise, just declared war on them. Later he would learn that their reason for it was a collapse of one of their own Iterators. It was a city bearer… So many lives lost in such a horrible way, so many left without work, shelter and safety.

The Iterator, Inner Compass, allegedly collapsed by purposeful bombing. Frost’s Promise blamed Children of Eo, considering they are the closest and some past political skirmishes.

*Purposeful bombing,* Void below. Orion doesn’t believe it. They are definitely lying. It had to be an inside job- bloody self-sabotage for the sake of a reason to go to war with the better developed and cultivated Eo.

Apparently there were explosives strapped to Compass’ legs, nestled within as well, and then someone pushed the button. If the bombs were only outside, he’s sure an Iterator would’ve survived it, even though reports on Compass say he was a very precarious mix of Generation 1 and 2. The real destruction was brought down by the explosives from within.

From attempts at reconstruction of the attack or at least finding a logical explanation, it was determined those damn things were nestled right next to his powerlines. So there was a chain reaction in enough of the legs that he started tipping over. There was nothing Compass, his admin or anyone else in the entire universe could’ve done to prevent the crash.

He went up in flames, taking a good length of the train tracks connecting him with other Iterators down, permanently killing all children and elderly housed in his facilities- the tragedy of it left in the world for the adults coming back the next morning to grieve over. Void Fluid spilled out from his gravity generators and hearts, making the whole place of crash beyond dangerous. The citizens couldn’t even stick around to search the ruins for anything that might’ve been left of their old lives. Unless they wanted to risk involuntary Ascension and potential fates as trapped Echoes, that is.

Inner Compass is still technically alive. Around and around it goes, but also the virtual immortality of Iterators. He survived all thanks to one singular Streak Antiseptic miraculously making it out. Last Orion heard, the little guy is ferried around in the chest pocket of his Admin. That one is going through immense guilt and trying hard to figure out what to do with Compass (and himself) next.

Orion himself isn’t so sure what would be kinder: give Compass another shot at existing even though he’ll have to start with everything (except traits of consciousness) from zero, or just finish the job and let the last soul of the Hivemind move on to the next incarnation as something else. Or a piece of a different Iterator.

And at the time, he couldn’t have given less of shit.

The war began and beneath him the Eo army gathered before they marched on northwards. His Houses voted and changed his wardrobe to be more fitting, inspiring, patriotic- this included searing a war helmet to his puppet’s head. Evidently without the consultation with a Mechanic or consent of his Admin- oh, Five Innovations behind Cedar Doors first had a heart attack about it and then verbally kicked the Houses’ asses. Or so she told him through a call after she came back, crossed arms and pouting like a child.

He attempted to comfort her, after all the two of them are close enough to fall on nicknames, damn right he’s going to try and help, but well… Orion himself was at his wit’s end with it.

Almost three thousand years alive. Three thousand years of the same thing. And even though the puppet often disappointed him with its limits in expression making, having it changed now feels… wrong. He feels different. He doesn’t look *too* bad with it, even Ceda reluctantly agreed through her pissery he’s at least absolutely rocking it, but this was a permanent change.

This helmet is a scar, sealing his head shut when it should not be. And it had yet to show what pain it would carry.

The soldiers hated him for wearing the mark of their torment.

In this world, wars cannot be fought with the idea of killing at forefront. That will not stop the waves, no. Only delay them ‘till the morning.

These people went out there to the battlefield to specifically get crippled. To be taken hostage. And if the enemy was as worried about losing as the comparably smaller Frost’s Promise army, they wouldn’t hesitate much to torture. Anemons can regenerate limbs, fix broken chitin bones incredibly fast. But the mind? The mind can be destroyed beyond repair and there will be nothing to save them from the nightmares, from the shaking hands and manic episodes, being permanently broken.

‘And there he is!’ They used to say, ‘Somewhere safe south from us, giant and untouchable by the suffering, yet still wearing our uniform as if he is one of us and dealing with the same pain.’

The guilt he felt from that managed to rival anything from his long long life. He admitted to Ceda, that he didn’t know how to bear those bitter hateful looks the poor troops shot his Overseers each time he came to the camps for the sake of battle tactic exchanges and new information regarding positioning of the enemy.

Ceda told him, her words heavy as they fell from behind her beak: “Don’t look towards them, then. None of this is your fault. You didn’t don the armor… Someone else shoved you into it, just like someone shoved them into a war.”

“I cannot accept that.” With disbelief he replied, distress within the Hivemind making her watch ping. “I can’t just *leave* it at that.”

“I’m sorry, Ori.” She said weakly, as if the entire war was her fault in the first place. So much pain, even in the relative safety far away from the fights, above the clouds, in his care.

How can one handle this…

Senior Abet Zephyr is of no help when he asks for it. She is angry at all of the Anemons, unjustly- her face pulls into a hateful scowl as she growls out “Good. Let them beat each other to insanity.” through her broken speakers. He feels sick, knowing that someone he looks up to and loves so much could ever say that.

Spore is in this mess with him. She’s more appreciated by the soldiers though, much more. She is their head medic. Her Overseers zip through the medical tents, anxiously taking notes of the supplies on-site and if those things will allow her to save another life, spare it any more suffering. Often, she stretches those things as thin as possible to help everyone. The soldiers know. They don’t fault her for it, when mournfully she says anyone badly injured and with a safe place to wake up in will have to be killed to rather treat the ones capable of faster recovery.

Killing her own patients, when she cares so deeply for each little life… He cannot imagine it.

Asking Disdain is off the table right away. Alongside most of the older Eo Iterators, all that stand in the north. They are too busy with balancing their own issues- shortages of food and resources in particular. The rich demand that their normal life is maintained, the soldiers need the support, prisoners of war are transported to their facilities and they have to be kept alive as well- the working class of the lower circles as a result suffers from exhaustion and famine.

Disdain told him how hellish that is. She wants to lower the resource tax on the lower circle so they could be stronger, able, not be tormented as much, but the high circle refuses to lose its comfort and lower its demand. Or the religious persuasion of the Great Problem. Without the okay from her one lone House, she cannot help them.

“It is like hacking away at my own legs. Incisus needs them to keep standing. I need them to keep functioning to my fullest potential. But my hands are tied, my mouth taped shut.”

Not to mention that apparently her ghost friend has gotten worse with the emotional outbursts because of the overall stress. It’s near constant screaming of rage and plain raw agony, from deep inside of her as if it was her own. Orion wishes there could be anything for him to do to help.

The last drop for him is when one of his Overseers comes back from a routine patrol of Terminus full of grief.

It reconnects with the Hivemind, sharing with all of him what it has seen. Little girl with shaking hands, handling a pearl with a message to a letter carrier, asking to please please make sure to deliver it. She hasn’t heard from dad in too long. She is worried sick he had been taken and won’t ever come back the same.

…what an absolute failure Orion is.

He doesn’t know the child personally. Never probably will. But she is his responsibility, in his care. He is her protector and he’s just standing there, hiding her behind his back as if that is going to keep her safe from fear. He’s a guardian and he isn’t doing *shit* to fulfill that role.

He can’t take it. So he decides to change it.

Without telling Ceda, he sends an Overseer on the journey back to the military camps. He can’t tell her, even though he adores the young small one- her orders are pleas that he cannot deny. He cannot afford her forbidding him from speaking his mind even though she'd meant well.

The general of the Eo army, named A Dagger, Sharpened by a Hook who's tinted with grey thanks to age already, isn’t too happy to see him at first. The soldiers try to chase him away.

But he *begs* them. Tells them he saw the grief, found a worried child’s ID in his files, identified her father as a scout. Orion has sired so many of his own kind- too many to ignore her sad eyes. She was too similar to his own small ones. And scouting is such a dangerous thing to do- please please let him replace the scouts or at least assist. He needs to help. He can’t take it anymore. He is incapable.

The soldiers step away in shock, the general hums in surprised intrigue. His eyes narrow in healthy suspicion- after all, he is the guardian of this army just as much as Orion is the guardian of Terminus. He asks Orion if he’s willing to follow his lead, listen. If such a holy endless thing like an Iterator will submit to one lone fool commanding sin.

And Orion’s Pathway says yes. Promises it on all of his hearts.

The whole Hivemind comes together in unanimous agreement to kneel before the mortal little lone creature, exclaiming that they are willing to be massacred in the name of becoming a single sinning man for this cause. That as the angel that they are seen as, they’d cut their wings for it, tear out their feathers for them to stuff their pillowcases with. They’ll snap their halo, cannibalize their identity until they are reborn more useful.

If it will be needed. If it will be required. Ordered. And not because of code and woven genes, but honest loyalty, every single piece will listen.

From a shell obtaining the potential of a little god to a simple soldier standing in a deathrow. They would fall for the army.

Some step away even further back, horrified at the length his promises reach. He doesn’t blame them- those are dreadful, reckless things he’s said and generally he wouldn’t speak such. Someone of his importance should be too high to be able to fall like this. Someone of his age should know better- and that he does! And yet…

The general takes on a pensive look. Something incredibly serious and blessedly free of a joke or a power trip that an organic could reasonably experience; having a biomechanical divinity bowing at his feet all for a chance at its own suffering. Orion knows some of the soldiers that stood still wouldn’t be quite as honourable. He recognizes the glints in their eyes.

With a nod of his head, the general accepts him. “With your Overseers you shall substitute our scouts. But remember that though you hold this venerable title, it does not carry the respect with it for you. You will have to earn that, strange thing.”

“I understand. Thank you.” A bow and the deal is sealed. He’s one of them now. He’ll earn the respect and the right to wear this damned armor.

In the morning, Orion hails Ceda to his chamber with urgency. She comes in stumbling, hardly fully awake, unused to the antigravity unlike a Mechanic would be. She complains that he didn’t even let her fix herself a morning cup of tea. With a little smile, he apologizes and to make up for the early waking call, he gets to fixing her bed hair.

Ceda lets him, grumbling all along, leaning into his hands far too sleepy to put effort into standing straight.

Orion doesn’t like pulling the “relationship” card- relationships are binding things, no matter their nature. It’s all chains. They carry terms, obligations, expectations when the requested goodness should come naturally- he iterates these things often and came to the conclusion he’d rather purge himself of that. But he does acknowledge the phenomenon of two people simply… harmonizing together. Getting along without the need of the choking idea of a relation, society’s definitions. Letting both participants breathe- just *be.*

Some days Ceda is a friend, some days a pupil. Some days *he’s* the pupil, looking up to her for help. Sometimes she throws an arm over his puppet’s shoulders, as if he was a brother- he replies by pulling her down into a noogie. Sometimes when she visits, she hides into his side like a daughter would with her father and each time he accepts it, sliding into the role seamlessly and holding her gently. He rocked her through her hard times, shushed her softly, let her fall asleep in his arms- no one will ever be too old for the ancient him to ask for these things, he told Ceda when she woke up with her cheek squished against his chassis, embarrassed.

They harmonize well. Which is why he refuses to be dishonest with her.

He shows her all that transpired during the night, explains that he isn’t willing to break this loyalty. That he did this as a person with power over his own life and choices. Don’t take this autonomy away from him.

Ceda stares at the projection of his memory conflicted. “But I’m… responsible for you. This is dangerous- if not physically then definitely for your mental wellbeing!”

“I came to the conclusion that leaving it would not be doing me much good either.” He says, matter of fact, arms hidden behind his back. He looks all business, a sign between them that he’s in the process of outfoxing rules set in by the Houses, the society or even his own blueprints. He tops it all off with the best cheeky expression he can give her. “As my Admin, you certainly have to find this foresight beneficial to your role! This, combined with the idea agreed upon by multiple Iterators that cites Stagnation is just another means of perpetuating a form of the cycle, results in the most obvious conclusion that this is the best case scenario we could have followed.”

She stares at him astounded.

“Don’t worry, shrimp.” He adds with a wink, reverting back to a more fitting tone of voice for who they are with each other. Deeper, with a slight rasp and most importantly: comforting and warm. “I’m not letting anyone take you away from me except if you decided it yourself. I made sure I could get you out of my decision unscathed.”

She breathes a sigh of relief, but worry doesn’t completely leave her face. “I still don’t like this. You’re in danger.”

“There is no path out of this that wouldn’t be dangerous. Either I’d stay passive and hurting, or I’d choose to be active about this in the least. I’d rather take the latter option, Ceda. I am not a particular fan of the concept of getting beaten while comatose.”

“I guess that’s a good point… Just be careful with what you take on out there? I don't know how many heart attacks I can take, man…”

“Says the one with a red lizard for a pet. I’ll try, but I’m no coward!”

And he proves himself as such. Overseers are fast little things, pesky too if their Hivemind tells them to be. With his already dark coloration they even manage to be stealthy and not glow that much.

Ceda joins in with him, too- bypassing his taboos with high importance orders that they discussed together, stuff to let him actually do damage to the enemy Anemons. Another thing she did was upgrading a few of his Overseers specifically for the scouting job. She worked to give them bigger data storage, tendrils that could pierce skin and administer potentially crippling shocks. The low blue light of his eyes became a guiding star for the Eo soldiers if they ever got lost.

Soon enough, his allies found appreciation for him too. Soon enough, Frost’s Promise took note of an Iterator's involvement and persuaded their own Iterators to come into the fights as well. Orion has zapped so many foreign Overseers to an offline state… Racing against his own kind felt different than dodging bullets of an Anemon soldier.

And soon enough, he was forced to face the ugliness of war.

He saw such brutality. So much blood, so many prolonged deaths, heard so many cries for mercy in the shape of a blade. The torture of not knowing if people were going to make it back from a battle. Sometimes, before he explained it, his own begged him to just short circuit their brains to escape the suffering. But he couldn’t. His taboos forbade him from harming his own. He could only watch.

At some point EMP weapons came into the mix. Losing an Overseer in the field kind of hurt because of how much presence he put into them, but it was manageable, not to mention how rare he made the losses. But the gods damned EMPs- one of the biggest attacks with them happened when an enemy snuck into the camp in the night and planted the things around, detonating them all at once.

One moment he’s conversing with his closest comrades by a bonfire, the other he’s fully forced back into his chamber screaming. He was *blinded.* He still could see through Overseers within Terminus, through his puppet, but the panic at being blinded out of nowhere in such a large capacity clouded those other visions.

He’s not even entirely sure when Ceda barged into his software and started artificially calming the Hivemind down. She soothes them, tells him that her watch pinged and then the lights in the city started flickering, some even blew up. His hearts raced, put out too much energy.

Orion apologizes for getting hurt. She rolls her eyes at him and starts giving him shit for it in her native tongue. Her idle salty chatter finally brings him his peace fully and naturally back.

When he gets back to the camp it’s all burned and torn apart. Spore is already there, frantically searching the ruins for anyone still alive or returning from death. He helps her look.

They accumulate quite a few confused souls that were mauled during the whole thing. It was a sneak attack, they told them, some saw the enemy specifically stealing their Overseer eyes along with taking prisoners where they could.

That… didn’t bode well at all. The both of them knew just about everything in the plans of the Eo army, had a lot of it stored in the banks of the Overseers that hadn't managed to return back home to empty them yet. With the enemy having Iterators who ought to be pissed enough at this rate to go against the moral code and do autopsies on their eyes, Frost’s Promise might as well already have large chunks of the plans too.

Spore and Orion share a nervous glance. The Anemons with them indulge themselves in worried silence and fear. Some kick the ground in guilt, muttering something about how they should’ve been awake and done anything to help out.

Who knows what difficulties will await them now?

After an hour, general Dagger marches to the ruins along with still a good sized chunk of the army following behind him. ‘Ordered out a strategic retreat,’ he was saying to an Anemon they sent out to be a look out as he was making his way to them, ‘collected the survivors before coming back to pick up the returnees.’

“General!” “Sir!!!! SIR!!!!!!” Orion and Spore call out, racing to him.

Orion tries to project his puppet in a call as always and report, but Spore beats him to it. “SIR!” Her voice is shrill in panic, eyes unbelievably wide, face pressed against the camera. “Sir they took our eeeeeeeeeEYES…….!!! They carried SENSITIVE information, they know everything, their Iterators have to be prying into us as we SPEAK, I’m so sorryyyyyhhhhhh… we didn't mean to betray youuuuhuhuhhhhh….” If she had tears, he does not doubt at all they’d be streaming down her cheeks in rivulets.

The general considers her, then firmly says: “Hey.”

It snaps Spore out of her fit. She pulls away from the camera into a more proper distance and looks at the general from beneath the brim of her hat. It’s as if she’s expecting to be scolded.

“Calm down, doctor. We will be alright yet.” Recognizing the firm tone was there out of determination and not offense, Spore relaxes, breathes a heavy sigh of both relief and stress. “Things aren’t completely lost, but they will be harder. We will prevail, we will fight on.”

There is not a single tremble in his voice. Orion’s eyes twinkle as he recognizes this steadfastness- finding it so similar to what he knows of Abet Zephyr.

The strength that lies behind the fight for the sake of better days. The fight backed up by truth. Lacking any selfish gains, just seeking the safety of tomorrow. He didn’t really… think Anemons had that in them.

Seeking an escape route by effortlessness. The jellyfish in a net analogy, the Iterators' very existence and all. Their lives are like candles- they burn bright and then run out of wax, having not moved anywhere “in the name of spiritual "progress"”. He considers, if he has just been looking at the wrong group all this time and not the whole. If maybe the jellyfish leaves things too much up to chance, if maybe a skilled little minnow that fights and finds a hole in the net is not safer.

The Anemons are small, finite. Yet seeing the soldiers gather around the general, hands clenched in tight fists, jaws set, unspeakable will to *try* inherent to fully organic things flickering even in the scared eyes… it moves him. It makes him understand. Develop a connection, comprehend their strength.

It fills him with *trust.* And casting a glance to her, the same it does for Spore.

The two of them list things they think their Overseers held when they were taken, general Dagger thanks them as if the plans weren’t leaked because of their mechanical natures in the first place. He works with them to develop new plans, takes suggestions from officers and soldiers alike.

They’ll get through this.

The next few months are a mix of ridiculously hard operations and suspiciously easy ones. Then the enemy somehow managed to get into the Eo group, directly into Spore’s facilities. Apparently a lot of prisoners they caught were sent there to be held. Which is… kind of strange, considering Spore’s place is infested with dangerous mushroom overgrowth that even caused her to be eventually rid of her title as a city bearer. But the strangeness of that didn’t register in anyone’s mind, even his own. They were too preoccupied with readying themselves for stronger waves of attacks. With so many prisoners freed, they would be feeling it on the battlefield.

But nothing came… For almost a month, complete silence.

And then…

The Siege and Capture of Orion’s Pathway takes up a whole chapter in history books all across the Eo group, all the way until the Anemons kept treasuring history. It is written about as a great tragedy, as it should be. Shows passages from diaries of Terminus’ citizens during it to communicate the dread they’ve felt as they were enslaved and hunted.

To Orion himself, the event is a marker. It is when he lost a dearness of his.

He never quite fully understood it before, why Abet Zephyr couldn’t just *be* gentle. Factually he may have, but with his spirits he couldn’t grasp it. Isn’t it easy? Isn’t it natural?

He started understanding when his systems seized in the middle of the night. The hardware mechanics of him simply wouldn’t listen to his will. Someone had to get past his firewalls, he immediately concluded, trying to find the intruder and purge them out. His software came to a halting stop next- it was like being frozen alive.

Still he could somewhat think, through the organic pieces of him. The Hivemind held together strong as an Individuality. They couldn’t move, couldn’t really do much, but they were still whole. They still could’ve alerted Ceda through her watch monitoring their biological functions. …then the hacker decided they won’t allow the Orion’s Pathway Hivemind even that.

Whoever it was knew how to turn an Iterator’s own hardware against it. The tubes, metal, speakers and all, the horrible frequency that came out of them tore all of them apart for the first time in centuries. Just like that, Orion simply couldn’t exist anymore.

The days of the Siege and Capture are all saved within his memory arrays only as muffled matted short videos taken by the lesser eyes of the Hivemind members that succumbed to more animalistic behaviours without the ability to come weave together a superior Individuality. From reports he knows his hearts still beated, but his antigravity generators were out. That meant neuron flies couldn’t do their job at all. Without them, they had no chance to come back together. His flesh started rotting, while his machinery ticked on to someone else’s whim.

They remember a vague sensation of someone prying at their puppet’s chassis, popping it open with brute force. All they knew was the pain of it, of someone sticking dirty hands right in between their organs-

It takes five weeks for a change to happen. So he finds out from outside sources later.

In the fog that is his nonexistence, a Polaris comes alight. It calls out to his components, urges them to come together, gives them a Somewhere they’ll be able to unify. The antigravity came on at some point they couldn’t have noticed.

“Please. Hurry.” The guiding star calls out to them. “Help-,” it begs.

They stitch themselves together with gurgling rage. Reach the light, clumsily take the control they’ve lost from her.

With a start, the consciousness returns into a sore and open puppet. Orion doesn’t have time to really process even that he exists again, much less that he’s apparently airing out his innards and his lenses are covered in fingerprints. There’s sounds of gunshots and sharp blades colliding. In his chamber.

Instinctively he yanks the puppet away from the ground, makes everything in here *stop*.

He traps everyone that is within the room in his grasp, while he attempts to collect his bearings.

There’s silence, a while. He’s sliding between being whole and breaking apart out of stress. It’s giving him a killer headache. His systems ping him that there’s fighting elsewhere in his structure as well, but he can’t give it any piece of his broken mind.

Then there’s the sound of futile struggling. They, he, force their eyes to focus and take in the scene through the fingerprints.

The whole chamber is a mess. It looks like a hastily put together camp with blood stains and damage here and there. Some of the panels are pried off of the walls- he can see his components thrown about, some in the middle of being recycled into different objects. He was being taken apart while still alive, that's- There’s… far too many people in here. Who- Five of them aren’t trying to fight against him, that means- ugh…

“Hey, Ori…” The one unarmored not-struggling one gently calls, waving to him. He feels like he should know her. She’s familiar and registers as crucially important in his systems, but- he can’t comprehend her disheveled hair, bleeding and dirty face. It’s far too complicated. His memory arrays aren’t responding properly- He can’t-

“Kid.” A male, gruff voice speaks up instead. Orion doesn’t have the will to look towards it, blankly staring at a hand that waved to him. “Kid, you did good. Just calm down. Take a moment to gather yourself.”

He’s *trying,* but this damn noise- his speakers spit out too many words at once as he’s unable to collect his mind. It’s even louder than the breathing, sharper and more offensive than clincking of armor. A broken hiss comes out next, he grips his head in agony.

*“Silence!”* The gruff voice snarls out quietly into the room. Some of the struggling ones listen to him and cease, the other three that weren’t putting up a fight against him hum quiet encouragement. He knows those voices, but where from-

And one growls back in challenge loudly. “Why should I, you old hag.”

“Sir, maybe you should- listen- You don’t want a dazed enemy Iterator on your case!”

“You lot have a ton of nerve to speak now.” The first gentle voice speaks again, but shaking terribly this time. Orion doesn’t know who she is, but she is the only confirmed vulnerable thing here. That means she is safe. And if she’s afraid of something, he should be taking note of it.

He barely manages to spot her, as she makes her accusation, glaring at a particularly well clothed one: “You are the one who did this to him. Bastard!”

It’s like flipping a switch…

His head snaps towards this offender, the chamber turns impossibly dark worryingly quickly, as the Hivemind all spills into the puppet in a rush. They bubble with rage and horrible hatred, and now they know who to point it all at.

The halo comes back online, it grows large in intimidation, arcs of electricity bouncing from it to the walls. His hold on all of them tightens.

“Ugh- Admin, what-!”

“Hush! The taboos won’t let him seriously harm us, just be quiet!”

The offender is brought closer. To him, the Iterator only treats him to an ugly hateful glare. But he doesn’t know what goes on inside. The Hivemind simply… can’t decide what to do with him.

‘Let’s skin him,’ some parts say. ‘Make his veins explode, so he may drown his organs with his own blood,’ suggests another.

‘Shove him out of the chamber,’ another purrs. ‘We will take him deep inside of us. Let him get lost within our wires, trap him in our tissues, starve, so he’ll remember how much of a vermin he is compared to us once he awakens again.’

‘Parasite. Parasite!’ ‘Let us all tear him apart… Like vultures…’ ‘What about eating him from the inside?’ ‘Push his face under acid, we say! Make sure he’ll live through it.’ ‘We should digest him. As slowly as we can make it be. He chose to belong to our body the moment he stepped inside.’

“So are you going to do anything or just gawk at me, toaster?” The villain attempts to kick Orion in his open chassis, but thankfully doesn’t manage to reach.

Oh, but the audacity. It angers them enough to stop their ponderings.

With bare hands Orion grabs that man’s head. With the most disgusting twist he can come up with in the moment, he snaps the bastard’s neck. With the crack, a sensation of tension lifts off his shoulders. The head falls limp at an unnatural angle and he feels lost.

“Orion’s Pathway.” The Admin’s voice rings in the silence left after the murder a beat later. “Cease.”

His grip loosens on them and all fall. Nobody starts another ruckus, the enemies left in here surrender and go quietly when the allies bind their hands.

She walks up to him with a visible limp. “Bring your puppet down to me.” He does so, and gladly. The orders feel like a breath of air as he’s fighting against drowning in his own Hivemind, still painfully restless.

Gently she closes their aching chassis. “I’ll treat you after the coast is clear. And…” She looks into his unfocused eyes. “And you’ll be more mentally stable.”

“Will he be alright?” The gruff voice asks. Heavy hand settles on his puppet’s shoulder. He manages to recognize the squeeze as comforting.

“Yes, he should be- it’s just. Going to take a while. I’ll have to call Mechanics to help out, but with the current state of Terminus…” sigh. “It will take a bit until they’ll be able to arrive.”

“Mm. You look after him good ‘till then, in that case.”

“...of course…” her voice is tight.

“I’ll go help out the rest out there. Take the body with me, too.”

“Thank you, General. May the Winds be kind to you.”

“...of course. May they be kind to you as well.”

The general leaves his chamber with a farewell and the body thrown over his shoulder like a bag of fish. The Admin waits for a second, then she pulls him into a hug.

It takes them a few minutes to remember what a hug is and that these are generally reciprocated. Shaking three fingered hands settle on the small of her back and he buries his face into her shoulder as he mourns the death of his hateless life. She embraces him dearly tighter.

Like a son and his mother would.

…

It takes two months for Orion to be able to access all of his functions again, including his Overseers. Though, he still feels… crippled. Something isn’t right with him. There’s poison somewhere within and he can’t rid himself of it.

Ceda loses hours of sleep looking for anything amiss with him that she could fix to make things better. Sometimes she tells him that all that’s left is probably only the emotional trauma of the whole experience, changing him. She even admits he feels colder now. More detached even from her. That makes him feel… not exactly guilty, but definitely like shit. He doesn’t want to be those things.

So she brings into his chamber her blue pet lizard, Procyon, in retaliation against those feelings every time she visits. Even before the war Orion adored the little goof. Getting to hold and caress it now calms him. Procyon was always supposed to be a service lizard, but its trainers most likely never expected that it would one day be supporting the emotional state of a whole ancient Iterator.

The thought makes him let out a little desperate chuckle.

Though he can use his Overseers again and the war is still raging in the north, general Dagger refuses to take him back into the scout service for now.

At least he was allowed to say hi to the soldiers and let them know that yes, he’s still alive and no, he wasn’t completely wiped like an old computer. Don’t worry people, it’s a little more complicated to do that with a whole Iterator than with the desktop back in your home.

His favorite reaction to spotting one of his Overseers up and about came from the group he hung out with the most before the Siege. The same group of three that were in his chamber that day, he found out. They all pointed at him and yelled, one started full on bawling before he booked it to the Overseer waving his arms and screaming at the top of his lungs: “NYURHG VOID BELOW!!! You laggy son of a fridge, you are alive!!!! You looked like a fucking corpse, brother!!”

In retrospect, it’s kind of funny that it is his favorite. Calling upon the Void for naught, being insulted like three times, the explicit implication of a relationship, being praised for being alive even though his primary function is finding a way to inflict permanent mass death upon the whole world. All goes against what he was made to be. The war really did change him, with scars and trust and he can’t deny it.

And when he next calls Boreas’ Blessing to request more weaponry and armor be made for his organic brothers-in-arms, he doesn’t back away from the angry eyes and threatening voice. He’s over it now. Over fear. Doesn’t have time nor patience for it.

Boreas rages against his reflection. And the reflection finally matches him with an equal rabid glare of its own.

#rw #rain world #oc: orion's pathway #oc: boreas' blessing #oc: abet zephyr #oc: filler iterators #oc: cedalion #oc tag #philosophy sessions au #my writing

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vminity21 · 2 years

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The Truth Untold | ksj

Pairing: bestfriend!Seokjin x singlemother!reader, singledad!btsmember x female!reader, f2l!au

Word Count: 22,340

Genre: fluff/smut/angst

Warning(s): profanity, mention of divorce, mega angst, mention of child birth, smut, unprotected sex, oral (m + f receiving), shower sex woop woop, nipple play, morning sex, dirty talk, slight fem!dom, it took me three years to write this story and I am so thankful that it is finally finished Rated: 18+

Summary: When a job opportunity arises in the hometown you left seven years ago, you return with the gift that was never made known to the one person who hasn't left your mind. Despite the love interest tugging on your heartstrings, you wonder where he may be; tired of suppressing the guilt for hiding the biggest secret you have ever withheld. Now, after all this time, the truth is approaching much sooner than you anticipate, and the untold story of why you left will soon be revealed.

Co-author: @yoonoclock (suhflix) is the first human whose writing I fell in love with and her talent never ceases to amaze me! This collab right here is an absolute dream come true and this story can finally be told after years of the idea living rent free within my brain. I love you so much my Monnie! Seriously thank you so much for cowriting this piece with me.

Credits to: @dee-ehn for making such a beautiful cover, it truly embodies the story. Thank you so frickin frackin much!

Greenery zips by, your hands guide the steering wheel in concentration nearing the road to your new home; one that is bringing you back to the town you left years ago, and even now, you never imagined you'd ever return. A brand-new office job opportunity discovered online, you immediately applied, accepting the position that happened to be in your hometown; and, with the experience you've already had with a desk job, you were at the top of the list.

In the passenger seat sits your daughter, Mae, cuddled against the door, eyes glued shut in sleep while classical music serenades through the speakers at low volume. Nostalgia is a funny one- sneaking up on you in times you desperately try to avoid it. But, finally caving, you convince yourself this is all a good idea; with your sister, Monnie, and her husband being closer, at least you have someone you can rely on, the same as she can rely on you.

A moving company has already moved the heavy stuff into your home. Rooms are finished. You started unpacking Mae's room first, so she would have everything she needed available. And today, you're coming home from 'Back to School' shopping, purchasing your daughter a new backpack as well as supplies with the infamous request of colored pencils. With summer ending, you've already transferred Mae's records to the new school she will be attending; starting second grade, her seventh birthday passed, you're nervous for the new adventure ahead, and all you hope with every fiber of your being is that you made the right decision.

“I hope,” you think repeatedly as you look back at Mae every few minutes. She’s okay, therefore, so should everything else… right?

Receiving an email once you arrive home, you read over it to see an announcement for an open house- a way for students to see their classroom and meet their teacher. Though you're excited about the news, your heart falls in disappointment all the same, because of course, the date of the open house is the same day you're beginning your new job. With your luck, the times clash. Sneaking a glance to check on your daughter, who is groggily hugging her favorite stuffed animal (one given to her by her grandmother), you dial your sister's number.

"Woman, you've been gone for a total of two whoppin’ minutes, what do you want now?" Monnie's voice answers the line abruptly which prompts you to pull the phone away from your ear when you hear the familiar muffle of a car.

"Are you driving!?" You say incredulously into the phone- a conversation you have openly said you're uncomfortable with. Monnie exhales into the phone which you imagine involves a painfully long eye roll.

"First of all, no, I'm not driving. You and Yoongi seem to think hell has frozen over if I do, and secondly, I'm pregnant, not helpless,"

A hearty snicker escapes your mouth, excitement filling you for your future nephew, "I know, but you can't even see your feet anymore,"

"And" she draws out, "My due date isn't until two months from now so you two need to calm down before I legitimately find relaxation pills to sneak into the wine I can no longer drink."

You sigh, “I don't like bitter wine-"

"Who said I couldn't find other ways to-"

"Fine," you raise a hand in the air, "Anyways, I'm not calling to fuss at you. I need a favor," bringing the tip of your thumb to your mouth, you nip at the nail, guilt brewing for even asking.

"What did you do," Monnie immediately asks as a reflex.

After years of schemes and numerous escape plans back in the day, it comes as no surprise that whenever you hear the words ‘favor’ the need to question arises.

"Nothing!" You scoff teasingly, pacing back and forth into the dining area ignoring the numerous small boxes you're procrastinating to unpack. "Monnie, really, I need a favor,"

"What's the catch?"

"Coffee," you answer straightway, "Caffeine-free coffee.”

"Ugh," your sister bellows, the staticky feel of the phone line poppy within your ears, "Hence why I want this little troublemaker to exit my body. I miss caffeine," she pauses, "But, not as much as I miss bitter wine.”

The quiet snicker of Yoongi is heard- you shake your head at your sister's playful banter- something Yoongi loves about his wife.

"Well, it's the least I can do," you offer, "But is there any way you can take Mae to her open house this coming Monday?"

"Yes, of course, we can. Yoongi's off that day surprisingly, so no worries, he will be driving."

You’re very thankful your sister will take care of it, and you soon hang up the phone for the evening and turn on a heel to prepare dinner for you and your daughter.

Everything will be okay.

When Monday rolls around, you fluff at the curls layered in your hair, triple-checking your makeup, and doing a couple of side glances in the mirror before your clicking heels leave the bathroom. Monnie and Yoongi wait in the driveway, planning to take Mae to her new school while you tackle a new job.

"I love you so much, Mae," you hug her close, letting her soft hair tickle your nose before pressing a kiss to her forehead. "And make sure you say ma'am or sir when greeting your teacher, and say please and thank you, okay?"

"I will Mommy, I promise!" She says, her nervous eyes mirroring your own, though they resemble the eyes you used to get lost in once upon a time. Burying the thought further, you refuse to dig up the lurking past until you're ready.

"Be good, kiddo," embracing your daughter one more time before she heads to the car.

Your eyes linger out the door to ensure she safely enters the car and drives off until you can no longer see them. Once out of sight, you can assure yourself that this day will move along smoothly for both of you.

Walking into the new job, the boss, Kim Namjoon, shows you around, introducing you to the staff. Slightly bowing with each face to show respect. It's then you're led to what will be your office.

Namjoon hands you a schedule and goes over the code of conduct, also explaining your role in answering phone calls or preparing projects he asks of you. Lastly, he assists in providing you with a username and password. All the basics are covered, and you can say that it hasn’t been as terrifying as you originally thought.

"I'll be looking forward to seeing you further your skills with our company. Thank you for joining the team," Namjoon shakes your hand, nodding once, his black glasses slip to the bridge of his nose before he fixes them. "Your trainer will be here shortly to show you the ropes. Once you feel comfortable on your own just let us know,"

"Will do, thank you, sir," you smile, settling behind your desk once he departs.

Though decorations to make the atmosphere more like home has been a goal, the only thing you need right now is just the picture frame of your daughter; one you slip from your purse to steady next to the computer- her toothy smile lighting up your whole world as her happy eyes warm your heart. Staring at the photo once more, you log in to your computer, bringing up the first message you receive. Deeply focusing on the list of projects forwarded to your work email that was already prepared prior to your arrival, you scan through everything, scribbling down your login onto a pad of paper you plan on keeping within your purse. Unbeknownst to you, a tall figure leans into the entryway, poking his head just enough to reveal his identity,

"When I saw the name on the schedule, I had to do a double-take! Since when, did you decide to come back to the underworld?" The deep voice utters prompting you to jolt from your concentration to gasp at the handsome face smirking at you.

It takes a total of two seconds for you to recognize the man standing before you.

"Kim Seokjin!" The excitement leads you to jump from your desk, arms outstretched, you rush towards him until crashing into his embrace while he sways you from side to side. "I didn't know you worked here! Jin, how are you?" Your hands grip his shoulders, gazing at his dancing eyes- dark hair longer from what you remember in high school, covering his forehead in the softest fluff.

"I'm doing good! Never been better."

When you realize you've been in his arms a moment longer than expected, you slowly back away, a timid smile forming on your lips.

Clearing his throat, his expression reflecting the same awkward tension, you can't help the slight attraction within your chest. It most definitely had to be due to your lack of physical contact. When was the last time you went on a successful date? Oh dear… far too long for you to remember.

Yes, this slight tingle you feel upon your skin has everything to do with the lack of romance in your life. Definitely.

Seokjin politely ignores your forced smile by shoving his hands within his pockets. It is in that moment you catch a glimpse of his bare ring finger kindling a subtle surprise. Out of everyone in your past friend group, you expected him to be the first one married.

Everything about him then screamed husband. It’s probably the same now.

“How are you, y/n?"

“Wonderful," you sigh, inwardly grateful to have a familiar face welcoming you, bringing a sense of comfort until you get used to being here, "Excited to be back,"

"What's it been, like, seven years?" Jin tilts his head while his eyes scan the ceiling, "Gosh, we were children, then,"

You nod in agreement, "Still to this day, I remember dreading pre-calc, if it wasn't for you and-" leaning backward onto your desk a bit too far, the clanging of your picture frame lands on the desk interrupting what you were about to say.

"Oh!" Jin reaches to set it back up, eyes widening when he sees the picture, "Is- is she-?"

"My daughter," your head is slightly lower when answering, the realization Jin makes bundling nerves within your tummy.

Seokjin was your best friend in high school and even after his graduation, since he's a few years older than you, both of you maintained a friendship up until you vanished without any explanation. Jin helped you with all your math classes, which was something you consistently struggled with, and supported you at any event you attended. No one ever knew why you left so suddenly after your graduation, and though there were people you trusted with your whole life, you couldn't bear to tell them when you found out you were pregnant. Seventeen years old and pregnant, "Her name is Mae," you smile.

"How old is she?" He asks, eyes meeting yours- his nervous fingers fiddling within his pockets.

"She's seven," you can't bring yourself to meet his eyes- a dawning 'oh' becoming present on his lips.

"Well," he swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing, "She's beautiful."

"Thank you," you say softly, turning to stare at the photo fondly, "She's my best friend,"

When silence falls between the two of you, he rocks on his heels once, gathering words carefully. Now fully understanding that whatever your motives were for leaving seven years ago, you did not do it with the intention of hurting anyone.

“She looks just like you," His compliment catches you off guard, your eyes trailing from his broad shoulders to the gentleness resting in his brown irises, heart fluttering though you mask it.

"Thank you, Jin," he bows slightly, turning toward the entrance.

"I'll see you around, y/n," and with that, his presence disappears, leaving your wondering heart thudding beneath your chest.

Min-a, a lady with red-rimmed glasses and matching lipstick, dangly, red earrings and a messy bun happened to introduce herself as your trainer shortly after Seokjin left. Quickly going over how the system at your new job works, she answered any questions you had, even letting you try a couple of phone calls as well as preparing for the first task on a presentation that involved the selling of a cosmetic product. Although the hours seemed to drag, the only thing your mind focuses on is how your daughter is doing, and how open house went.

When the opportunity presents itself, you quickly give a call to Monnie.

"You asked questions, correct?" You panic into the phone. Your sister is chuckling at your rushed state.

“Met her teacher? Showed her the classroom? Took notes? Did they provide any information?" You can't help yourself, slinging your purse into the passenger side after the long day, pressing the phone between your cheek and shoulder as you triple check to make sure you have everything you need. Keys, wallet, paperwork from the job.

"Can you breathe?"

"Did they provide any information," you repeat with a playful yet stern tone. "And did Mae-"

"Y/N, hold your titties. Yes, we did. We met the teacher, she knows where to go next Monday and no, I didn't take any notes. You are being dramatic."

Now, most people assume that she was being rude. That she didn’t understand the stress of motherhood. Monnie may not be a mother yet, but she is a woman who saw everything you have endured. She is fully aware that you seek to make this transition smooth for Mae because you love her. And Monnie loves you.

She just happens to know when you are stressing yourself out beyond what you should be. Sometimes reminding you to take a breath is the best decision.

"Okay, okay," you lean back into your seat with eyes squeezed shut, "I'll relax. Just- just, thank you. Thank you for doing all of this for me," you're grateful despite the guilt from missing your daughter's preparation for the big day in a week's time.

"What can I say? I'm the best auntie ever," Monnie gloats. You know the tight-lipped smile she most likely has planted on her face while Yoongi stifles giggles.

"Yeah, and you're the only one so what choice does she have?"

"You're just jealous because I am the best thing since sliced bread-"

"Stale bread.”

"I'll have you know that these hot crossed buns didn't form a baby with being sta-"

"SPARE ME," you yell into the phone, turning out of the parking garage and into downtown, "I'll see you when I get home you sicko. Tell Mae I love her very much, and I really hope she's wearing her headphones, I don't need her listening to your profanity-"

"Yes, she is listening to music, I'll see you in a bit, love you,"

"Love you," you make a detour, stopping for some iced coffee as you promised, also purchasing your daughter's favorite treat in celebration for her beginning second grade.

Keeping your full attention on the road, it's still quiet enough, even with comforting music, to let your thoughts spin. With this new job you have acquired, it's come to your attention that this will be the busiest you've ever been, at least according to Min-a. Though you and your sister's relationship had been strained nearly seven years ago, it took Mae turning four years old- a time where the guilt nearly consumed you- to reconcile with the one person you hoped had forgiven you. One thing you did think about, too, especially with moving back after all this time, was looking for the individual who changed your life. A young man, full of life, numerous dreams he was determined to accomplish, laughter that made you swoon, and a heart that pieced yours together when your world was falling apart. Where he is now, you're uncertain of. And, whether he'd be happy to see you again, that's unknown to you, too. With the news, you've buried deep enough, and with the way you left him, he still to this day has not an idea of the gift you brought to this earth without him.

Even Seokjin, who was your rock most of your high school years, didn't even know about the situation. The only thing he was aware of was the man who had captured your heart at the time; though, you hope he wouldn't say anything or ask about it... Either way, you are thankful for the beginning of the reconnection with Jin. If anything, this job may draw the opportunity of really catching up; seeing what all he's been up to since you've last seen him, including the curious inquiry involving his love life hidden subconsciously. With a handsome man like him you'd think women would snatch him up quick. Though deep down, you've really missed him, and are hopeful in the fact he's still single.

Perhaps it’s okay if you search for someone too. Is it too soon to see that in Seokjin? Years may have passed but his enduring existence has not.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” you murmur to yourself.

Pulling into your driveway, you park the car, letting a long sigh out through your nose. No one knows who Mae's father is in your life, other than you. Something your sister has chosen to accept as well as your parents. Having Mae in their life is what matters to them the most, the same as Mae is your constant- the little girl who will always have your heart.

She is what brings stability to your life amid all the chaos from past, present and future.

Carrying the iced coffees into the house, Mae greets you with an excited smile and hug,

"Mommy!" She exclaims, her arms tightening around your frame, her long, black hair nestling into the material of your pants suit.

"Hello there, my sweetheart. I have a surprise for you," you coo, handing her the paper bag with her favorite dessert.

"Oh, thank you!" She takes it, opening the bag with wide eyes, "By the way, I think I'm really going to like school this year! Everyone is so nice!" Her toothy smile makes your heart swell, your hand running along the top of her head.

"And I can't wait to hear all about it," you beam, watching her take a bite out of the treat while sitting comfortably on the couch where her iPad is charging.

The simplicity of the evening is what naturally has your mind flooded with thoughts of what once was.

Freshly graduating high school, you weren't quite showing, yet upon the discovery of your pregnancy which is something you were thankful for. Your parents divorced when you were a freshman, with Monnie and you being a year apart, (also her being closer to your father, while you were closer to your mother). The two of you ultimately decided to live in separate houses. Monnie being completely unaware of your social life the same as you were hers. Well, when it mostly came to boys. Monnie happened to fall in love later; meeting Yoongi in college, both falling head over heels in love that led him to proposing within two years. Now, the two are expecting a baby boy. This time it is your turn to be an aunt.

"Well, well, if it isn't my favorite nemesis," Monnie waddles into the living room, her hand resting on top of her swollen belly; Yoongi follows behind her, shaking his head at her joking tone.

"Do arch nemesis buy coffees for their loved ones?" you lift the drink tray of coffees into her line of vision, "Decaf for you, Preggers."

Playfully snatching it from your hands, she takes a quick sip, "Ugh, I need something hell of a lot stronger.”

Yoongi chuckles, planting a sweet kiss to Monnie's temple, "I think childproofing is no longer of concern, Drunkard.”

Monnie scoffs, "Well, excuse me, Curly," her eyebrows raise while a tug of a flippant sneer aims back at her husband, "How about you carry this infant for nine months within your womb that deprives you of your weekly festivities.”

Yoongi sips his coffee in amusement, "I thought you said you got drunk off my love. Isn't that enough?"

"I-" Monnie pauses, not expecting such a soft retort that she can't deny. She shrugs before leaning into him as he wraps an arm around her.

"Get a room before I regurgitate," you tease, cackles echoing within the living room. After a few more conversations, Monnie and Yoongi head home. Night comes quicker than you anticipate, which brings you to tucking Mae into bed, kissing her forehead before turning to waltz to your bedroom.

"Mommy?"

You halt at the sound of your daughter's soft voice, arching an eyebrow in concern,

"Everything alright, Mae?" Her almond eyes show a sadness you are familiar with- especially when something has been weighing on her mind- something you have feared since she became old enough to talk. A subject you're not sure you're ready to talk about. A pout forms on her lips as she bundles closer into her covers.

"I saw a lot of families today," your shoulders tense, heart beginning to thud louder beneath you while sorrow overwhelms your chest.

"My teacher actually thought Aunt Monnie and Uncle Yoongi were my mom and dad," her eyes meet yours, reflecting the same eyes you try to keep suppressed in the back of your brain, but sometimes that's hard to do- especially when her heart is as pure as his was.

"Mommy?" Her sweet voice breaking you from your trance, you dread the topic more than you'd like to admit- also wondering how long you may have been zoned out just a moment ago.

"Yes, love?" You try to pretend you're not nervous, which is extremely difficult to do because it's written all over your face.

"Do I-?" Mae begins, gulping carefully before continuing, "Do I... Have a dad?"

Your shoulders fall expectedly at her question, your eyes immediately gazing at the bed covers your hands are gripping. Swallowing, you're trying to gather what little words you have spiraling relentlessly to the point you feel faint. How can you answer her? How can you tell her how cowardly you were? Running from him to keep him from giving up on his dreams? Leaving for the fear of him rejecting you? Rejecting your daughter? His daughter?

You left him without any warning. Something you never thought you would do. Pregnancy wasn't part of the plan, but you are thankful it happened. Although, every day you wonder what it would be like if her father was or had been in Mae's life. Would you be where you are now?

"Honey," you murmur, wishing you could muster the strength to answer her, "It's time for bed, okay? Mommy's got work in the morning," you can hardly meet her eyes- brimmed with tears. But instead of questioning you, her small hand reaches forward to hold yours, and all you can do is let your tears pang the comforter. "I love you so much,"

"I love you, too, Mommy."

Wiping away your tears once you re-tuck Mae into bed for the night, you briskly walk to your room, shutting the door behind you. Now you rush to your closet to find a bin you keep all your old journals in. It doesn't take long before you find it; a journal you kept in college. Nearly torn to pieces it seems yet held together just enough to keep the written pages intact. You flip through the sheets until you find it. The picture of you and Mae’s dad taped onto one of the pages; you run your fingers along both your smiling faces as a tear slaps onto the paper. You carefully remove the photo, folding it in half and tiptoeing to the kitchen to place it safely within your purse. One day, you promise yourself, you'll show it to Mae- you'll finally find the strength to reveal who her father is. Because your daughter deserves that much.

It was the fighting that brought you here; innumerable nights of hiding in your bedroom, counting down the time until the arguing silences. Holding your sister close while she covers her tear-stained cheeks into your shirt. It was the shouting that brought you to where you are now- back pressed against the crinkled rooftop while your bare feet smooth amongst it. Your parents announced divorce a few days prior, yet the two can't seem to settle things enough to become civil. Although you and your sister have tried to make ends meet, the truce was made that both of you will part ways as well. You would remain here with your mother while Monnie moves in with your father.

The stars stare down at you- shimmering above as if dancing to the songs of the chirping crickets neighboring the night. Warm tears stroke your cheeks, your hands folded upon your stomach while you swallow the sour taste on your tongue. The familiar sound of the treehouse ladder, which is what you typically use to pull your way to the roof, prods you to focus in on what you realize are footsteps. They carefully step onto the roof. The metal clinking sounding until the figure settles beside you, raising their knees while they lean back onto the palms of their hands.

"Your call had me worried," the voice of your best friend brings a relief you've needed all day, but you can't bring yourself to look him in the eyes, "What's up?"

You can feel his gaze- him blinking a few times in reaction to his contact lens, the infamous blink you're so used to seeing. Seokjin nudges you slightly, bringing your attention to reality while you glimpse up at him to notice his recently cut hair gelled to the point it shines beneath the moon.

"They're getting a divorce," you murmur while fresh tears stew, returning your glance to the constellations above in an attempt to distract yourself from the stab beneath your chest. Seokjin's shoulders fall almost brusquely, his lips ajar while his heart aches for you.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry,"

"It's okay," your eyes squeeze shut, "I knew it was coming, I just- I didn't know who else to go to,"

"Hey," voice soft, he slides to lay on his back, his shoulder touching yours just enough to remind you he is here- the comfort of a friend that will do anything to put a smile on your face, "I'm right here."

It doesn't take much for you to bury your face into his chest, muting the sobs that overwhelm your frame in harsh trembles. Your hands grip his shirt to somehow force the pain away. Seokjin visits you nearly every day after school, and tonight was a night he was studying for his midterm. Hence why when you called to find out he was busy, you refused to burden him with your heartache that you merely told him you were fine, just bored out of your mind. Of course, he knew better, dropping his studies to rush to your home- climbing to your rescue to join you underneath the stars. He figured it had to do with your math homework- he didn't expect such saddening news. Yet he holds you tight, wishing there was something he could do to tell you everything will be okay.

'Do I... Do I have a dad?'

A long, dreaded sigh escapes your lips as you lean into your chair; anxiety builds with every passing minute. Work is not helping nor is your mind that happens to be too foggy to concentrate on any tasks at hand. Crossing your arms, pen gripped between your fingers, you still can't help but ponder the one lingering question that refuses to vanish since Mae asked you nearly a week ago.

The picture from your journal lays unfolded in front of you. The computer screen is bright and alert which is the opposite of your current mood. Yet you lean forward, minimizing the blank word document that has sat before you untouched since you've clocked in, and you click online to search through your Facebook. If anything, he must have a profile, something to give you an idea of what he's been up to. Posing your fingers above the keyboard, you hold your breath, typing in his first name just to huff in frustration. You quickly exit out of the screen before it even has a chance to compute what name you were trying to search.

"Fuck," you whisper, running your hands along your face once again, "Why can't I do this?" rubbing your eyes, you lift your head to see the photo of your daughter. She's the only reason you've made it to where you are today. Her patience and understanding for why you don't always have an answer. The trust she has regardless of what situation is thrown your way. You are the strongest woman she knows aside from her favorite auntie though you doubt yourself from time to time. No matter what, even if you were to find him- her father- even if he chooses to remain unheard of once the revelation is made known to him… At least, you have her.

Clicking off the site, you refold the picture of you and Mae's father to settle it within your purse. You know it's wrong. Keeping this from him. But you've done it for so long that you just accept that right now, you need some time. The time that you always assure yourself you have even though you know one day it will run out. Wincing from the pain that waves within your chest, you bury your face into your palms, the tips of your fingers tickled by your hair.

"Having second thoughts?"

When you recognize the voice of Seokjin, a small smile forms on your lips while you raise your head to greet him. Your eyes adjust to the light while you watch him approach with hands in his pockets. He drops into the seat that Min-a had brought in which was positioned next to you. His warmth being so close brings a sense of comfort that you've been needing all day. And despite the sensation that burns in your chest from the attraction, you try to ignore it. You hardly notice that you haven't said a word since he arrived.

"You seem… rattled," he observes, concern shedding from his eyes while he pivots in the chair.

"And, you seem entertained,"

Jin pauses mid-spin and throws you a humorous glance, "You're never too old to swivel, okay," laughter just falls from your smile, him pausing to run his hands together, before turning to face you once again, "Wanna grab some coffee?"

"You act as if you've already had some,"

"One cup is never enough, now let's go,"

The two of you walk to the nearest shop to order your drinks which Jin insists on paying despite your objections. The two of you settle into one of the tables outside. The sun shines high in the sky, causing his hair to glisten as well as the smooth skin of his face. You can't help but take it all in; uncertain of how you could have forgotten such a content face. His stare remains off to the side- investigating the parking lot; unaware of the way you watch him. You are happy to have your best friend from what feels like a lifetime ago, sitting before you as if the friendship had never been lost. When guilt seems to raise its ugly head, your glance drops to stare at your drink curled within your fingers prompting you to twirl the cup. This then becomes the moment where you fixate on the tiny details, such as the perspiration from the melting ice that dampens your fingers.

"You've gone quiet," his voice is tender as it always is when he's concerned, which is something you’re glad to see has never changed.

It really is just like it was back in high school. Suddenly you feel as if all those years away vanish. You are a girl spending time with her best friend.

Shifting in your seat uncomfortably, you take a moment, swallowing before answering.

"It's Mae's first day of second grade," you lean back in your chair to cross your arms, trying to ease the nerves wanting to plague your mind, "And... I think it's safe to say I'm more nervous than she was this morning.”

Trying to make light of the situation, Jin lets out a breathy laugh of understanding. However, when your smile slowly falls into an anxious line, he can't help but intercede.

"Hey," he reaches over to rest his fingers upon yours, the shape of them igniting memories from the times you'd tease him (a cute trait about him amongst many) which he'd retort with mentioning how bad your hair frizzes when it's humid.

Your eyes never leave the scene of your fingers touching. The desire to interlace them has never been so strong- something you hadn't thought of before with him.

He must have mistaken your stare of one of discomfort, so he quickly brings his hand back to his coffee to take a quick sip, "If she's anything like you, which I'm pretty positive she is," he tilts his head, the serenity pooling within his gaze bores into yours, "She's going to be just fine."

The rest of the time is spent slowly walking back to work. Your shoulder brushing slightly below his. The urge to want to hold his hand is still present although you're uncertain if he will reject you which is something you'd rather not be embarrassed by. But his words from nearly ten minutes ago spin profusely like a record.

Seokjin isn't angry with you, except that's something you're oblivious of. On the contrary, he finds you the most determined human being to walk the planet. He doesn't see your daughter as a secret, he sees her as someone who fueled you to become the best mother and person you can be. He sees your leaving as taking responsibility upon yourself and whoever the father of Mae is. Though he thinks highly of you, he is also oblivious of the one detail that is too soon to reveal. The father has no idea of Mae's existence, which is something you know would upset Seokjin if he were to find out.

It's then Jin glimpses at you, your worried expression evident, "She's going to be fine," he reassures you.

The road soon leads to the parking lot of your job when the courage to reach for his long fingers turns into a reality.

Damn, y/n. I never thought you would be so bold, you thought to yourself.

You haven’t been here very long. But it appears that none of it matters when it comes to being with Seokjin. The years separated doesn’t feel so foreign to you but a fond memory that follows you wherever you go.

Yes, you have wanted to hold his hand long before this exact moment.

His eyebrows raise in surprise, but you refrain from averting your gaze, letting the corners of his eyes crinkle from the side grin that tugs upon his lips. With the sensation of his fingers sliding to fully intertwine yours, you hardly register the time that's passing, but you're so enthralled by the kindness he's never rid of that you don't want to move.

"Thank you, Jin," your voice softer than the wind breezing through the ruffling trees. He squeezes your hand once before nodding, hoping that after all this time you'll finally see what's been standing right in front of you.

Mae traces each letter carefully onto the notebook paper until everything upon her heart has been written. The assignment today is to write a note to someone special whether it be a family member, a friend, or a person in uniform one may know. Once the projects are graded, the messages will be returned for each student to give the letter to the person they wrote it to. Sadness overwhelms her heart while she scribbles down the final sentences, soon rising from her seat to lay the paper onto Mr. Park's desk.

"Thank you, Mae," he grins, accepting the paper, "Everything going okay with today's assignment?"

"Yes, sir," she nods politely, remembering to greet her teacher the way her mom taught her.

"Good," Mr. Park smiles, proud that his students so far have been doing well with the English portion of his lessons, "Any questions?"

"No, sir," Mae replies, turning on a heel to be seated at her desk.

Once all the papers are collected, Mr. Park begins the math lesson. Mae is hardly able to focus because the one thing she can't seem to shake is the burning question she has yet to know the answer to.

Transitioning to the new school has gone smoothly: her gradually making new friends, and Mr. Park is enthusiastic with the way he teaches. She enjoys coming here almost every day.

There's just something missing.

There's a half of her reason for existing- one she has questioned since she became old enough to notice that her tiny family wasn't complete. One she wishes she can tell her day to just as she does with you. She wants to know who this missing piece is, and though she has no idea where to start, she refuses to lose hope. Reaching for her pencil, she copies down each math problem Mr. Park adds to the board wishing nothing more than to hear your voice, telling her everything will be okay.

Sometimes, at night, before Mae goes to sleep, she pulls out a journal Aunt Monnie bought her a while back. The journal Mae writes letters to her father in- telling him about her days spent with you. Days where she's sad and wishes she could meet him. Days where she mentions her favorite hobbies and foods, even animals. It's something you don't know about because Mae knows it would make you sad if you were to read it, and that's the last thing she ever wants for you.

Overall, she can't help, but close her eyes and make a wish, the same wish she has wished on so many stars. The same wish she put in her letter that is now turned in to Mr. Park,

'I wish I knew where to find you.’

"You know you're supposed to put an X there,"

"I'm about to put an X where the sun doesn't shine if you-"

"It's called accuracy, now mark that X on the spot,"

Seokjin pokes the area on the homework assignment- a math problem you have struggled with for the past hour while you huff in frustration. Your clammy palm spreads along your forehead with the geometry problem staring back at you in a torturous taunt.

"Well," you sputter, "who the hell thought it was smart to mingle Algebra with Geometry?" You lean back in your chair, exasperation evident in your limbs that go limp by your sides, "And, who the hell thought we would ever use this in real life situations? Tell me why this is even a thing?"

The windshield wiper laugh is all that serenades your ears while your best friend's shoulders shake hysterically, "Do you plan on becoming a photogrammetrist?"

"A what-"

"A photo. Gram. Et. Rist,"

Silently, you stare at Seokjin with his plump lips poised in a side grin while he attempts to maintain a straight face. With the way your eyebrows are furrowed so hard, you wouldn't be surprised if it resulted with a wrinkle smack dab in the middle of your forehead.

"... No,"

"Okay," Seokjin claps once, "Then all you have to worry about is acing this class.”

You can't help but squint at him, his amusement making you want to playfully smack his shoulder. Although the idea of having to deal with this class for the rest of the semester makes you thrust your head back with impatience, "And how am I going to do that?"

"Because I'm not going to let you fail," his words catch you off guard, especially when you raise your head to meet his gaze. How you ever deserved a friend as loyal as him you will never be sure, but you give him a soft smile, before he clears his throat, "So, if I were you, I'd write that X so we can focus on finishing the rest of the problem,"

It's hard to snap back to reality just to continue overthinking a Geometry problem, but you reluctantly lean forward anyways, obeying Seokjin's orders. After you carefully write the X onto the lopsided triangle he had drawn earlier, you look over at him, his eyes tunnel visioning before him while he slowly draws a circle.

"Thank you," you murmur, him pausing just to glimpse at you,

"Anytime."

And that's the day Seokjin wanted nothing more than to reach for your hand, but he desisted, merely distracting himself with the shapes and numbers he needed to create in order to help you solve them. Without your knowledge of his inner fight with telling you how he feels, you lay your head on his shoulder, the perfect pillow for your exhausted mind. And him taking in the smell of your lavender shampoo whilst struggling to scribble the final equation beneath one of the angles of another triangle he's drawn. By the end of the night, you are closer to fully understanding the gist of geometry- Seokjin applauding you through it all with him even closer to falling even more in love with the determined soul that you are.

Lack of sleep is an understatement, especially right now while you roam to the breakroom to fill a cup of water just to return to your desk. Namjoon scheduled another project for you to complete within the next week or two- one you must present to your coworkers at the staff meeting coming up soon. The phone has been ringing off the hook- not allowing you one moment of peace. Three weeks officially at the job, and you were able to break from the trainer in confidence that your skills have been met for the company.

Other lists of things tangle a web within your mind; you also have to run to the grocery store to stock up the pantry, write a check for the bills due in a few days, make sure laundry is caught up, and you have yet to unpack some of the boxes from first moving nearly a month ago. Not to mention, calling your sister every other evening to check up on her pregnancy. Despite it all, it's the side grin of a handsome face that waltzes into your office once you settle into your chair to finish up a phone call with a client that fills you with ease. Including him setting a steaming cup of coffee onto a coaster decorating your desk.

"Oh, Jin!" you gasp, "You don't- you didn't- you- I just, why are you so kind," you stammer, causing him to smile at your worn-out frame who ultimately accepts the coffee, blowing into the lid to cool the liquid before taking a sip.

He descends into his chair, his legs stretching before him while a giddy smile adorns your face. You hate being so obvious, but with the way Seokjin has been visiting you every single workday with laughter and little things you'd never expect him to notice after all this time. It’s as if your heart has finally found something to confide in- a place of serenity.

"Listen, if it's anything like how my first year was here, then caffeine is the treatment to survive," he pokes the back of your hand while your chest burns with an ache forming in your cheeks from hiding the dozens of giddy grins.

"Thank you," you murmur, your eyes dropping to your coffee cup to twirl it, a habit Seokjin has picked up on as well as the coffee flavors you tend to order. New things about you that he's gradually learning from the girl you no longer are from what feels like a previous life.

"So," he leans forward, resting his elbows upon his knees, both of your eyes connecting while he rubs his hands together, "Have you thought about tonight?"

A knowing smile naturally spreads across your face at his question. A question he asked a few days ago on if you'd like to go on a date one evening. And though that is definitely something you really want, with all the errands you have to run, you know tonight may not work out.

Nipping at your thumb, you contemplate, "Actually, can I make a proposal?"

He investigates your expression, leaning back just enough to fully see your face, "Should I be scared?"

"No," you retort, folding your arms across your desk, "I just- I- I have a lot of errands to run, and I was wondering if you'd like to come with?" His playful gaze softens as you jump to explain, "Mae is staying at my mom's tonight to visit her, or else she'd be with me. I guess, erm, I would just like the company, you know if-if you're up for it, I, uh-"

His large hands move to steal yours which distracts you enough for your words to trail off. His fingers interlock while his sweet expression refuses to break from your nervous face, steadying you just enough to feel the world around you stop.

"Hey," his voice is soft, his face now a few inches from yours, "I'd love to."

It's then your eyes cut to his lips that part just enough to tempt you. The yearn to kiss him waves within your chest and with the way the tips of his thumbs tickle tender circles along the palms of your hands, you know you're a goner. Seokjin leans closer because the desire beckoning you mirrors his own. His nose brushes yours until-

The sudden ring of the phone causes the two of you to jolt. Both pairs of eyes widen as your heart hammers against your rib cage.

"Oh, um, I, um, I better take this," you frantically reach for the phone, Seokjin clearing his throat as he throws you a thumbs up in understanding.

"I'll meet you at your place to pick you up. See you tonight.”

You nod at him whilst simultaneously trying to gather the question the client has on the line. There have been a few guys here and there you tried to court, but you were always way too afraid to take the next step, not only because you were terrified of the commitment, because you also wanted the right person who would protect and care for your daughter as much as you do. You can’t help but wonder how your daughter would feel if you were to admit to her about your interest in your former best friend; in your heart you know Mae would adore Seokjin, and you know Seokjin would do anything for Mae if given the chance. It’s just all in the timing, you try to tell yourself, but you can’t shake the guilt that you are seeing somebody without consulting with how Mae would feel especially since she recently asked about… her dad.

Thankfully, time flies by, until you find yourself preparing for the evening with Seokjin. Him showing up at the time he texted you he'd be arriving, you send a quick message to your mother to check up on Mae, before letting him whisk you away to the world of adulting. The grocery store is a place you never thought would be fun with anyone else other than your daughter. Turns out there is room for one more. Seokjin cracks jokes from left to right in order to ease your nerves. You end up giggling to the point that you can't breathe. As a result, all you can wonder is how you've never seen him in such a different light. In high school, he was strictly a friend to you, nothing more. Yet the way he's making your heart flutter it's as if the universe was made for just the two of you.

Finishing up errands, Seokjin points with his thumb at the remaining boxes you have yet to unpack. The gesture caused you to shrug with the excuse that you'll get to them at some point. This means the only thing left to do (after the two of you file into your home to unload the groceries and put them away) is to throw the laundry in the washer.

"Ugh," you exhale, running tired hands through your hair, "Finally, all done!"

As you are standing there with nothing else that requires immediate attention, you sense a shift in the air between you. It’s no lie that there has been a lingering tension. You meet his gaze.

Seokjin's breathy laugh escapes through his smile as he approaches you, his hands reaching to settle onto your waist while your arms move to tangle behind his neck. The heat of his chest nearly smothers you with happiness.

“Finally," he whispers, his forehead pressing to yours while you take in the way his heart is pounding in accord with yours. Unbeknownst to you, his finally isn't said with the same intention as yours. His finally is said with the hope he's never lost in winning your heart, making it a promise to win your heart every single day if you'll let him. When his hands then move slowly to wrap behind your back, your faces cuddle. The feeling of his strong arms holding you so tight you never want him to let go.

He is still mind blowing. Even with just the simple acts of him standing at your doorstep at the start of the evening with the way his hair is tint with slight waviness. His brown eyes timorously meet yours while his hands hide within the pockets of his pants. His loose dark denim jacket swallows his frame while the black hood rests against his back. All of these are simple… but so mind blowing. The way your heart moved at the sight of him, you can hardly register the sentiment you can't put into words. Right now, you are still speechless, you want to get lost in the moment with him. A million moments if possible.

Eyes closed, breathing steady. You kiss him. The warmth and softness of his lips causes you to melt as he leans into you. He tilts his head to deepen the kiss whilst the emotions pour out. Your back presses to the couch from moving backward. His frame towers over you, yet your hands find the tufts of his hair, refusing to let him break the kiss in any way.

Clothes start to fall to the floor once you lead Jin to your bedroom, letting his love overwhelm you in ways you've longed for since the two of you reunited. Bare bodies intertwine underneath the covers. Kisses placed on every inch of your skin, exchanging whispers of admiration for one another with his hands caressing you so gently you can hardly breathe.

The two of you become one, ending the evening with both of you crashing side by side. He immediately turns to hold you while you bundle your face into the crook of his neck. Words aren't needed to fill the silence, just the sound of his breathing and beating heart are enough to make you fall asleep with a smile on your face.

Even when the morning comes, the beams from the sun brighten your bedroom while the happiness creases at the corners of Jin’s eyes. His bare body is still glued to you, and you bundle the covers over your mouth as you timidly return his gaze. The tips of his fingers tickle along your skin while you get lost in him- snuggling you closer just to now tangle his long fingers into your hair at the nape of your neck. Lust grows in the pupils of your eyes as you watch him move to hover above you as things start to get heated yet again and he shuffles to place kisses along your abdomen until he reaches your inner thighs.

Moaning in response to his every touch, the ceiling fan wafts cool air along your exposed frame as Seokjin throws the comforter to the side so he can watch the pleasure fill your expression. Goosebumps domino upon your arms as you try to say his name, hips rising in reaction to the tip of his tongue swiping your heat. He slides forward to add more pressure of his lapping tongue along your entrance while he fully embraces your thighs with each arm. His movements against your core are so enthralling, you curve one of your legs behind his shoulders, “Oh Jin- oh fuck, baby you feel so fucking good- ah!”

Just when your eyes start to roll back, Jin runs his fingers from the middle of your torso to where your nipples start to bud from the chilly air of the room though your body is burning from the intense passion stirring between you two. His tongue still speedily moves continuing to lather up any bit of your taste he can while simultaneously beginning to rub his fingers ever so gently upon your nipples while you moan even louder. The strong sense rising in your core is so strong, your palm slams against the bed frame while Seokjin relentlessly enjoys his time with you.

Jin starts sucking on your clit after circling his tongue over your entrance messily before the orgasm starts to build even more, “Keep going,” you breathlessly say, “Keep going baby, ah-!” Your thighs tense as your body fidgets to the powerful sensation, leaving your thighs clenching as Jin watches you smile at how amazing he feels. “Holy fuck,” you squeal, Seokjin shifting to sit on his knees while his chin glistens from the juice of your heat. You lay there, your limbs feeling limp in response to everything, and your calves are pressed against the side of Seokjin’s frame as he watches you closely, so happy to see the woman of his dreams returning the bliss after all this time. “How am I supposed to recover from that?”

Quickly, the pair of you freshen up after sharing a few more lightheaded chuckles, brushing your teeth, and snickering at the trail of clothes in the hallway. After you mouth wash, Seokjin wraps his arms around you from behind to place a slow kiss to your neck- the heat of his skin causing you to feel dizzy while your core lets out a warm gush for the billionth time within twelve fanatical hours. The way his body moved with yours from the night before has you giddy, and thankful you gave sex another chance. Especially with someone you are truly having deep emotions for. A mischievous tip to the corner of your lips reflects in the bathroom mirror as you reminisce on the way Seokjin easily succumbed you to a desire you are addictingly going to dream about for the rest of your life, so why not return the sinful favor? Spinning in his arms, you flit your gaze along his face while you bite at your bottom lip, “You up for round two? Or would it be round three? I wasn’t done,” you coo seductively, just to cuddle to his face again.

“Oh no, what are you trying to do to me?” Seokjin moves a hand to cup your cheek, kissing your lips once while you whisper against his mouth.

“I said…” you murmur, gliding your fingers from his v-line to his chest, “I. Wasn’t. Done.” It doesn’t matter how tall Jin is compared to you. You push up on your tip toes to crash your lips more passionately with his while you push him in the direction of your shower. The minty taste of his tongue collides with yours as you then graze your teeth along his bottom lip giving it a nice, slow suck. If you are going to tease him, you want to tease him just right. Letting you take control, Seokjin inhales a quick breath as you trace his face, reaching behind him to switch on the shower, waiting for the steam of the water to start engulfing the bathroom.

“I’m a little scared,” Seokjin teases with a grin, and you nearly fall into his frame at the feel of his erection now pressing against your figure. This is a side of you that you never thought he’d see, but you do not want the excitement to end here.

“Step in,” you say softly, feeling the water drip between your fingers. Jin obeys immediately and you jerk the shower curtain closed as soon as your bodies mold underneath the pouring water. Arms holding each other tightly, you gasp into his kiss as the pair of you stay entranced, and his eyes widen in surprise when you slightly pull away just enough to give him a hinting glance. At this point, he is innocently reaching for the shampoo to start massaging your tangled strands, but you have something else in mind. Droplets of water linger upon his skin while you start to kneel, taking in the sight of his being which prompts your mouth to water.

“Oh,” Seokjin realizes, trying with all his might not to pounce on you with what he is witnessing before him. He is so turned on by you he can hardly stand it. You start with his tip, clamping your lips around it to run your tongue over his precum before you start to allow him further into your mouth. Taking an agonizingly long suck, you are even more aroused by the low moan he releases. Your hands move to grip his hips when you start hollowing your cheeks to suck even faster, bobbing your head while hot water trickles down your back. He doesn’t use his hand to guide you, he simply rests his hand on your head to keep himself from flipping you over to clap against your ass while you scream his name, letting you continue to give him the high of his life. You are surprised with how much drive all of this is giving you and maybe you didn’t realize how deprived you have been from physical intimacy.

Something about Seokjin just gave you the ultimate determination to please him and you know it is because of how much you have fallen for him in such a short amount of time. One palm moves to start rubbing his scrotum, him leaning his head back in pure ecstasy as you continue to move your mouth deliciously over his erection. You don’t even know where time has taken you at this point other than your back is on the bottom of the tub while Seokjin thrusts inside you- lips clinging to yours while you gasp in awe at how nothing, but magic seems to capture in every caress of his kiss.

Finishing, the water washes away his cum that seeps onto your inner thighs. “Oops,” he chuckles, falling into the crook of your neck while you squeeze your legs from the sensitivity.

“I’m not complaining,” you smile, eventually helping each other stand to start the shampooing. You don’t want to say it too soon, but everything he has done for you since you have known him makes you want to say it. Looking into the sweetness in his eyes, you want to confess exactly every thought turning within your brain cells. But you can’t and you are uncertain of why. Or maybe you just refuse to admit why because you haven’t given your daughter the closure about who her dad is. And your daughter comes first.

After cleaning up, the squeak of the shower knob signals the water being cut off and you reach for a few towels so that the pair of you can dry off. Jin slips out to start gathering his clothes knowing he has a few errands to run regarding work, and you must prepare to pick up Mae once you get the house organized properly. Wrapping a towel around your bare frame, Seokjin is fully dressed ruffling his hair while he waits in the hallway for you. He holds your outfit from the day before in his palm, yet you swiftly brush the tangles from your wet hair before parading to where he stands.

Sadness starts to etch in your expression, “I don’t want you to go.” You murmur, him handing you your clothes, so he can free his arms to hug you closer. Peering up at him, he leans in to press a slow kiss to your lips before resting his forehead to yours. There’s a strong silence between you two as Seokjin battles internally with what he wants to say, but he bites his tongue. He doesn’t want to go either, and his feelings that he has always had for you have returned but in full force- overwhelming him especially as he holds you in this very moment. How can he say it? He has been waiting for what feels like his whole life to tell you how he feels, so where does he even start?

Being with you is magic, it’s like he is in Heaven, and now you are finally sharing this dream of being together with him, and in a way, it doesn’t feel real all the same. “Trust me, I have every intention of seeing you outside of work.”

“Good,” you smile, “You’re fun.”

“Was I not before?” He smirks, moving to kiss your forehead, the tip of your nose, your closed eyelids- he peppers kisses down the side of your jaw while you teasingly shove him away.

“Eh, you talked about math too much,”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about me doing that anymore. That ship sailed when I turned twenty-seven. Now, I talk about physics.”

Rolling your eyes playfully, you scoff, “Same damn thing.”

Seokjin kisses you quickly, “Is that so,” he remarks, smacking your toweled ass once you turn on a heel.

"Is there a reason why you're glowing. You’re acting like you got laid." Monnie promenades along the house, cleaning out small boxes you have yet to unpack still; glaring at her when she attempts to lift heavier boxes which of course you rush to take them from her. "I have muscles, ya know," your sister arches an eyebrow while she rests her hands on her hips.

"Yeah, muscles that need to remain intact when holding your soon-to-be child," you remind her, completely dismissing the surprise you feel at how well your sister knows you after all. You set the box onto the dining table. Wiping the dust off your hands, you meet her shaking head, "And you're not supposed to be lifting anything whatsoever; hence why I have a much safer favor to summon from you,"

Monnie tilts her head, "Depends,"

"I'll buy you the reddest, most bitter wine whenever you are on maternity leave and unpregnant,"

"I'm listening,"

"Sit down,"

"Not until you tell me why you're more chipper than Yoongi's dog."

Chortling, you shake your head at your sister's consistent arched eyebrow.

"Maybe," you rush into the living room to finish dusting the shelves, your voice echoing behind you, the sound of Monnie's hands reaching into the cardboard box heard beneath your voice, "Maybe I have met someone. Well… re-met someone… and got laid."

"Um, excuse me!?” Your sister gasps, "You know I'm going to need more details than that! Do I know him?" Though Monnie's voice sounds concentrated, your auditory senses tune in to the sound of rapidly flipping pages. “And… Was it delicious?”

Snickering to yourself about her choice of complimenting words, you pause, "Possibly, you may know him. He was my best friend in high school if you remember. Happens to work at the same company I do now. Kim Seokjin?" Just the memory of his gentle fingertips running along your arms the following morning- his gaze never faltering while he soaked in every inch of your face. The blooming smile that seems to spread upon your lips images the swelling joy within your heart. “And yes, he is very good in the bedroom.”

You hear Monnie fake gag in disgust despite her asking about your sex life which prompts you to shake your head as you giggle. "Oh girl, he is cute! How could you not tell me about this hunk muffin? I can see why you finally got re-defloured."

"Please, Monnie, for the love of fucking sanity, do not say that phrase ever again!" you snort, then you pause in surprise, "you found him that fast? How-?"

"I'm on the senior section of your yearbook, and he's the only Seokjin I see so far, so girl go get that bread and devour it,"

"Gladly," you circle the living room for any spots you may have missed- the turning of pages being the main sound the next few minutes while you hum your favorite song beneath your breath.

"Hey!" Your sister's voice calls, "I didn't know Mae's teacher went to school with you!?"

"Oh? Maybe she and I were friends! What's her name?" Giving one more swipe onto the bureau holding the TV, you walk back to the dining room where Monnie examines the pictures within your old yearbook. When your sister's focus doesn't dissipate, you snap your fingers, "Hey, are you present?"

"Oh, sorry, I got distracted," she turns the page, "Oh, look, I found you!"

"Ick!” you raise your hands high while you slam your eyes closed, “Please don't show me the younger me. I’d rather talk about sex.”

"Wait a minute," your sister's eyebrows furrow while her stare remains fastened to the book, "Oh my, how he's grown!"

"He?" Confusion clouds your expression, especially since you assumed Mae's teacher was a female.

"Yeah, who did you expect?"

Mouth ajar, you comb back through your memory while Monnie meets your gaze. "Now that I think of it... I don't think anyone ever told me who Mae's teacher is. Here, just let me take a look at the picture,"

Monnie shrugs, "Okay," handing the open book to your outstretched hand. Your fingertips run along the smooth page until your eyes find the face you didn't expect to see. The pang of pure shock stuns your entire being while your eyes enlarge- heart pounding luridly you hardly hear Monnie's concerned tone trying to catch your attention, "So, were you close friends or what?" Hands unsteady, goosebumps raise among your arms- it's like you're frozen in time- eyes refusing to avert from the photo staring back at you. "Y/N? What's going on? Did he hurt you or something? What happened?" your sister's voice blurs through the fog suffocating your mind while nausea gathers in the pit of your stomach.

"Oh my God," you mouth, "Oh my God," heated tears stain your wide eyes while your body trembles uncontrollably. Your throat feels so tight that you aren’t even sure if you are truly breathing.

"Y/N, what the hell is wrong with you!? I seriously don't have time to cater to everyone's needs here. I have needs and that is this baby needs to come out so if you do not start talking, I’m-"

"It's- it's- I-" you stammer, feeling so faint, you are surprised you are still standing.

"Were you two a... Couple?"

Your eyes immediately meet your sister’s infuriated gaze, terror takes its toll over you before you can say more, pleading for her to interpret whatever attempt at telepathy you're sending her while the yearbook slips from your numb fingers just to smack the ground. "Did you-" It's then it dawns on her, words dying off her tongue- eyebrows rising, lips parting in a small gasp; hand raising to cover her mouth when she puts two and two together. ".... Oh," she steps backward as if to steady herself from the mutual tremor overwhelming both your systems. "Holy shit," she breathes, bending forward to grip a chair in front of her. Your eyelids are heavy when you fight through the dizzy spell swarming your fatigued head, your mind hardly registering your sister's continued hunched frame before the sound of water splats onto the wooden floor, jolting you to your senses. "Y/N," Monnie's voice breaks in pain, trying to endure the harsh contraction waving within her body, "Y/N, call Yoongi. Now. AAGH-"

"Oh, shit- oh, shit, oh shit, oh shit!" Realization hits you after your feet rush to where your purse is, fumbling with quivering fingers for your car keys, thrusting your sister's arm around your shoulders while you lead her to the passenger seat- your sister is about to have a baby, and she's about to have this baby soon. Monnie's breaths are steady, yet she winces with every contraction, your panicking expression hardly able to focus on the road the moment you dial Yoongi's number, swerving out of the driveway in the direction of the hospital, "Are you okay!?"

"Yes, I'm fine, I'm not letting this baby be birthed in your damn car, now drive!"

It doesn't take long until you've reached Yoongi- him frantic once it's revealed he's about to be a father, him also promising to pick up your mother and to pick up Mae from school- the three planning to meet you and Monnie at the hospital as soon as possible. Your sister grips the handle above the car window, inhaling and exhaling deeply with her eyes slammed shut. Your heart rams against your sternum, sweat beading on your forehead focusing solely on the road ahead still processing what has happened in such little time.

Mae's father has been right in front of her since you moved back without your knowledge- the guilt encompassing your mind faster than you can decipher- and right now, your sister is in labor, relying on your distressed driving to get both of you to the hospital in one piece.

Though the sudden turn of events shoves the lingering discovery in the back of everyone's minds for the time being laying open at home, in disarray on the floor holds a picture that was taken senior prom of high school, the night emotions were professed, and slovenly kisses were shared; one that unraveled the familiar pair of eyes squinted from a wide smile.

Despite it all, there is only one person other than your daughter that you can't stop thinking about, and with one swoop, you dial his number, inwardly begging just to hear his voice,

"Jin," you choke, fighting the tears the second he answers, "Jin, I need you,"

Seokjin left for college long before you greeted your senior year with a bang, heart moved on from your parents’ divorce, and you and your sister had a bond of steel, yet there were some things you limited from telling her. You never expected to meet him, the man who would capture your heart in ways you couldn’t explain, on your very first day of senior year, his hair tousled, eyes searching the hallways to memorize where he would be going, lips pursed in concentration. You offered to help him- revealing schedules to see the two of you shared a few of the same classes- walking together side by side sharing laughter and contagious smiles- your heart pounding with every brush of his warmth. You informed Seokjin of the newfound love every afternoon when you’d call, completely unaware of the pain you were causing him with every story.

It took months before your crush kissed you for the first time- lips gentle on yours, experiencing new things together- whispering dreams into the night when he would sneak visits to the treehouse while your mother was asleep. It was toward the end of the school year, after applying to several different colleges between the pair of you, that he was accepted to the university of his dreams- a full-ride scholarship that would bring him one step closer to fulfilling his dream job as a psychologist - even observed by coaches of college sports teams who begged him to join their sides.

The same day he reported his exciting news to you- was the same day you gripped the end of the pregnancy test, the red plus sign burning into your memory forever- while an overwhelming toll of fear traced every fiber of your being. You couldn’t destroy his chance- his chance of gaining a college degree, to play his favorite sports and possibly winning the world as your heart soared for his every success. Even seeing Seokjin when he’d be home visiting from college, you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him of your plan; knowing he would talk you out of it if you were to confess.

It was graduation day when you last saw the father of your child- he kissed you so lovingly that you couldn’t hold the tears back while he hugged you.

“I love you,” he pressed his forehead to yours, assuming your tears were from accomplishing high school, unbeknownst to the real reason, your heart was bursting at the seams. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too,” you murmured, his thumbs stroking your cheeks while his nose traces the tip of yours. “I’ll never forget you,” You whispered. He was distracted by his buddies who surrounded him with handshakes, his ears missing your final statement. His happiness was all you cared about, and with one final goodbye, you rushed home, packed your bags, and left as soon as you double checked your savings account for money, you saved up from your job you obtained your junior year. You blocked every number on your phone aside from your parents and your sister- notifying them of your pregnancy when you stumbled upon Monnie in a convenience store an hour out of the way- a convenience store her boyfriend at the time worked at- her eyes wide with the sight of your bulging belly- realization mingled with anger evident within her expression while pained tears brimmed her eyes. You cautiously ran to your car, refusing to look back.

It took the birth of your daughter, holding her in your arms for you to finally find the joy you had robbed yourself from for what seemed like a lifetime. Her small smile brought a new hope- a new beginning. At the time, you knew you could do this- be a mother. Be her everything- the same as she will be your everything- promising to love her unconditionally until the day you die. Even if the picture of his face haunts your dreams for the rest of your life, you'll accept it, because at least you have the bundle swaddled in a pink blanket, beaming up at you as if you're the only one she will ever need.

Seokjin fumbles with his car keys while he enters the elementary school, clipping them to his belt loop. The clear hallways pave glistening tile floors underneath long lit lights that align the ceilings.

Scents of disinfectants waft to his nostrils while he grips his coffee cup, waving toward the principal, Kim Taehyung, who he used to go to college with back in the day. You’re the only one etched in his mind- the way the sun glimmered upon your face until your eyes fluttered open to shine with the rays. Or the way you kissed him so lovingly before he left- returning a smile to him every time he steps foot into your office.

After seven years without your presence, he never expected for you to return- pulling his heart into your direction absentmindedly, yet this time he can finally express his heart- something he never dreamed he’d have the chance to do. Guilt sweeps within his conscious for there is a secret he has kept from you- one he felt wasn’t his place to say, yet he approaches the classroom, knocking on the already open door.

“Ah, Seokjin!” Jimin’s cheery tone echoes, him immediately rising from his creaking chair, “Did Taehyung put you up to it?” Seokjin chuckles, Jimin reaching for his hand just to pull him in a quick hug.

“Nah, I just wanted to give you my condolences,” Seokjin’s eyes hold concern when Jimin’s face contorts in a grim expression. Jimin’s grandmother, who happened to be the inspiration for his switch of majors in college, passed away a week ago- Seokjin received the news from mutual friends promising to pay Jimin a visit, “I’m really sorry about your grandma. She was very kind,” Jimin’s Grandmother really helped the two of them throughout college when they would come home to visit- cooking them meals and sharing words of wisdom when they felt like giving up.

Memories that helped Seokjin and Jimin heal when they lost you.

“Thank you, I really appreciate it,” Jimin pats the back of Seokjin’s shoulder to rest his hands upon his hips, “But, anyway, enough about me, what has been going on with you? Any promotions at your job? I know you mentioned a few new people were going to be hired a month ago,”

Seokjin turns to lean against the whiteboard which happens to be freshly cleaned, scoping the empty classroom assuming the kids are at recess. A grin tugs on his lips especially when a flash of your smile sends a warmth he seems to miss- though, he clears his throat, trying to mask the awkward tension that he doesn’t want Jimin to detect.

“Everything’s been great with the new hires, but as far as a promotion, Namjoon and I have discussed it, but I turned it down. It would mean I’d have to move companies, and I don’t necessarily want to do that-”

Frilly voices mingled with padding footsteps resonate within the hallway distracting Seokjin as his eyes trace to the door of the classroom. “You turned it down? I thought you’ve been waiting for this for years!” Jimin, being immune to the sounds since he hears it consistently, waits patiently for Seokjin to reply. But it’s the silhouette of a young girl skipping to a desk following suit to other pupils doing the same that catches Seokjin off guard to the point his focus dissolves. Her toothy smile identical to the photo placed upon your desk, the realization hitting Seokjin in a pained confusion.

“Mae?” Seokjin murmurs to the point it’s inaudible. His eyebrows furrow, the coffee cup sitting loosely in his hand.

“Hey, Jin,” Jimin’s forehead crinkles in worry, Seokjin stammering when he returns to reality, gripping the coffee cup tighter to prevent it from slipping to the floor, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he replies, eyes scanning Jimin’s desk with the realization that there aren’t any frames of his daughter- the one sitting across from him in the classroom- which plagues the realization that Seokjin has battled with for some time since he reunited with you.

Mae’s gaze flickers between the two men- wondering who the man conversating with Mr. Park is- his hand shoving into his pants pocket while he holds a coffee cup in his free hand. She tilts her head curiously when the men’s’ tones are hushed- that’s when a friend of hers taps on her shoulder to show her a drawing she made during class earlier that morning.

“Sorry, heartburn,” Seokjin’s save seems believable once he pats his chest- Jimin offering an antacid which Seokjin politely declines. When a call at Jimin’s desk rings, he apologetically looks at Jin with a ‘duty calls’ look.

“Well, it was great seeing you,” Jimin shakes his hand, “Taehyung’s golf crew are heading out next weekend. I figured he mentioned it to you, but if you’d like to come, I can send you all the details,”

“Of course, thank you,” Seokjin shares his goodbyes until Jimin answers the phone. Jin steps out of the classroom wishing he had fresh air to breathe. From what he can tell, Jimin is unaware of the little girl who is his own flesh and blood; something Seokjin knows isn’t his place to know, yet the inward betrayal- what if she was his daughter? Would you have kept this away from him? He always assumed that you and Jimin had everything figured out, but with this epiphany, now it all makes sense as to why Jimin never spoke of Mae because he clearly has no idea that he is her father. Seokjin doesn’t want to be selfish- that’s the last thing he ever wants to be- but, in this situation, upon the discovery of your deepest secret, he doesn’t know how to process it- trying so hard to understand your side even though it’s never been discussed.

Sprinting to his car, he settles inside, turning on the air conditioner in full blast while he sets his coffee cup into a cup holder, running his palms along his face tuning everything out. Everyone has secrets and nobody is perfect, but here he is struggling with the thought of possibly being a hypocrite. How can he be angry that you kept your daughter a secret from her father when he’s been best friends with Jimin ever since you left? And how can he admit to Jimin that he’s in love with a woman who happens to be the mother of his daughter?

The pain surges through Seokjin’s chest, stabbing every fiber of his heart- wishing nothing more than to hear your voice. Something that will take away this agony even if for a moment. Minutes drag until the vibration of his cellphone prompts him to open his anxious eyes, reaching for the device to see your name lit up on the screen.

It doesn’t take long before he answers, “Hello?” He breathes, relief flooding his senses.

“Jin,” your voice wavers, “Jin, I need you.”

Sparse memories flicker from when you were in labor, blurrily seeing the rectangular lights on the ceiling as you were raced to a hospital room. Fear gripping your figure amongst the pain of contractions and going through the birth of your daughter all alone. You remember the comfort of the nurses and the kindness of the doctor, and she talked you through every step until your daughter was finally bundled in your arms. Now, it’s your sister’s turn. Although, you have no recollection of how you made it to the emergency entrance where your heart is pounding through your temples and the anxiety is roaring inside your chest.

Monnie breathes as steadily as she can as you rush to the passenger door to retrieve her. You are uncertain how you even alerted the hospital staff to make their way to your car- an attractive, young guy in scrubs with the name tag, Jeongguk, rolls a wheelchair to Monnie’s side while another nurse in blue scrubs named LenLen tries to get the information from you as you muster whatever words you can to answer the questions to lead Monnie to her main physician for the birth. You do not even remember helping Monnie out of the car, and when you start to follow the nurses wheeling your sister into the building, you hardly expect the grasp of your shirt dragging you to your sister’s gritted teeth and desperate plea.

“What the hell do you think you are doing?” Monnie can hardly speak through the pain, her cheeks flushing as you stare at her incredulously.

“What do you mean what am I doing!? You are about to have a baby! I’m not fucking leaving your side!”

“The hell you are! You’ve got to tell Mae’s teach- father, you are going to tell Mae’s father everything before I put you in the hospital myself!”

“Did you not hear me!? I’m not leaving your side-”

“I’ll be in labor longer than you think. And, if you don’t leave now, you’re going to run out of time- AAGH- So GO- AAGH-”

“Monnie-!” The nurses are helplessly watching the pair of you verbally battle match loudly, and you try to calm down, but right now there is no such thing as calming down. “What about Mae!? I can’t just leave her! And what about Jin? He’s on his way!”

“I will take care of Mae-!” Monnie growls in pain. “I have Yoongi and Mom, and I’m sure Dad already booked a flight, so I will not be alone. And I’ll tell your boyfriend everything, but Mae is your priority right now and it’s about fucking time that she knows who her father is,” Monnie tries to meet your enlarged, hysterical eyes. “I know you will be back as soon as you do the right thing. Now, hurry up and fucking go!”

“Okay!” You reply breathlessly, tears you hadn’t realized were muddling your vision fall down your cheeks in tepid paths. “Okay,” you choke, “I’ll do it.”

Monnie’s fingers detach from your shirt and you, crying, run to your car, hardly knowing what else to do other than panic. This is it. This is it- you have no choice but to face your biggest fear, and now that you know Mae’s father has been right here all along, you can’t help the humiliation you feel and are going to feel once you share to him the biggest secret you have ever kept from him. Choking back sobs, you barely can remember what the name of her school is from how distraught you are, but your shaking fingers try to type the name you believe it is until the GPS pulls it up.

There is no escaping this, and you have the route ready as the voice directs you on every turn.

His kiss made you melt every time, and the first time you both became one, he was so gentle, and loving despite the discomfort of it all. Of course, the curiosity and the learning involving intimacy became an addiction you two couldn’t stop, especially when your body was starting to enjoy it. You weren’t on birth control in high school, so it should have been expected that you would have become pregnant. But what you didn’t expect was how you were going to break the news to him when he had so much on his plate already. Kids were never a conversation unless marriage was the topic. Being so young, marriage was a huge assumption during that time because you thought you would get to spend the rest of your life with him.

You were in love with him once, and the thought of seeing him again scares you. Not only because you are about to tell him something that you have no idea what his reaction will be, but that his reaction will be what will prompt whether you tell Mae the truth or not. Mae being front row in her teacher’s life, why would you want her to know who her father is if her father doesn’t accept her after all? What if he becomes so angry with you that he dismisses his own daughter? And do you blame him? Of course not. You hiding your daughter away from him is your mistake. Or was it really a mistake to begin with?

Guiltily, you know what you did was wrong. He was never the kind of person who would mistreat someone from what you remember, and in your heart, you know he would have been a great father. But it’s never too late. Mae is only seven years old. She still has her whole life ahead of her, so maybe… just maybe he will see past your betrayal and give Mae a chance to be in his life, but as her father, not her elementary school teacher. How is this even a possibility? You could kick yourself for not paying attention. It’s been a month and you still had no idea who Mae’s teacher was. But is this how it all was supposed to pan out?

When the school comes into sight, you brace yourself as you turn into the parking lot. You notice the buses are gone and the majority of the cars seen most likely belong to the teachers finishing out whatever paperwork they have on their desk. You wonder which car is his, and you choose a spot closest to the entrance. Even though the weather isn’t that chilly yet, your hands feel like ice, and as you robotically walk towards the building after exiting your car, you breathe in and out deeply before reaching the door.

The nerves are so strong, your head starts to ache, and embarrassingly, as Mae’s mother, you don’t even know where Mae’s classroom is. Someone in your peripherals must have noticed your confused state and approached, “Hello, I’m Hoseok, the assistant principal, do you need assistance?”

Jumping slightly, you hope he doesn’t notice the redness of your eyes from the crying, but you manage to steady yourself enough to force a smile. “Yes, I’m looking for my daughter’s classroom. I, um, have a meeting with her teacher.”

“Ah, of course! I hope it’s all good news to report. We are sending out their progress papers soon with their current grades, but if you have any further questions, you can contact her teacher via email. May I ask who it is?”

“Yes!” You appreciate his smile and his willingness to help, because you are so frazzled, you are shocked that you are speaking anything audibly. “Um, Mr. Park. Is he still in?” You try not to make it sound like a question to feel like you are a good mother for knowing, not really, who your daughter’s teacher is. Plus, you really are hoping he is still here.

“Right down this hallway to the left, classroom 58.” Hoseok points in the direction and you thank him profoundly for his help, clutching the strap of your purse while your mouth runs dry. The swarm of nerves in your stomach grows stronger to the point that you feel nauseous as you step down the hallway while your vision blurs with more tears.

C’mon, you can do this. You must do this. Mae deserves this. He deserves to know.

You pause when the number 58 above the door frame enters your line of vision, and you feel the ice of your hands start to frost your entire body. This is it; you exhale slowly, this is it. Stepping cautiously to the door that you see is wide open, you carefully peer in, your heart stopping as your fingers move to press against your trembling lips. He nonchalantly is shifting through a pile of papers, his expression concentrating as his cheek rests against his fist from how his elbow is leaned on the top of his desk.

He is exactly how you remember him except his hair is a tad longer, and his jawline is much sharper from aging into his mid-twenties. His thick lips are lined pleasantly in a faint grin and a Styrofoam cup rests diagonally from the papers. He still looks beautiful, so innocent. How could you have ever left him the way you did? Now, things are different, your heart belongs to someone else, and you hope he has his heart set on someone else too and if he does, will that person be accepting of his seven-year-old daughter? Or, that you are from his past and will now be his present if he does happen to accept his daughter once it is revealed to him? You honestly have no idea what to expect from any of this, but you check out his left hand to see that there is no wedding ring though that doesn’t always mean anything considering people forget or have lost jewelry of any kind before.

You know you can’t stand there staring at him forever, yet you genuinely don’t even know where to start, so you just… start.

“Jimin,” you say his name for the first time in years, and it sounds so bittersweet coming from your mouth. He lifts his head immediately to the sound of his name with an evident smile probably assuming you’re a coworker, and it takes him a few seconds to register exactly who he is seeing. Jimin’s eyes widen in profound astonishment as recognition forms in his expression, his mouth dropping open in silence.

Standing to his feet, he can hardly believe who he is staring at, and he refrains from rubbing his eyes. “Y/N? Is that… you?”

You can’t help the tears. Hot and streaming down your face, you sniffle while you try to nod and force a timid smile. “It is me, Jimin. How’ve… how’ve you been?”

Jimin’s expression shifts as he analyzes your words. Of all the things to say, after what felt like an eternity…you ask how he has been doing. In all honesty, he would have done the exact same thing.

When faced with the past, what else is there to say? There are missing pieces that need to be mended…but not all at once.

Jimin has to respond somehow.

“I don’t… I don’t even know where to begin, I’ve just been, well,” he has a hint of a nervous smile on his face, probably feeling just as awkward as you feel, and you are so overwhelmed by how kind he has remained all these years. Eventually he gestures with an arm toward the empty desks. “I’ve been- been working, but goodness, how long has it been? How are you doing?”

“I’m well,” you swipe a tear away knowing Jimin probably feels so helpless right now which makes you feel even worse. “I’ve gotten a new job not far from here, so… So, I came back to town.”

“Yeah, I-” Jimin stutters, trying to gather whatever words he can that make decent sentences, “I wondered where you went. I figured maybe a college farther away or if you decided to move with your dad. I never- I never knew where you decided to go in life.”

The prevalent question you know he wants to ask is how you found him since his longtime dream was originally to be a psychologist. He probably is wondering if you reconnected with Seokjin, but how would Seokjin and Jimin know that you were back? You still are under the assumption that they were never super close when you all were younger.

“I’m sorry, I know I should have told you what was happening… I just didn’t know how.” You choke, your eyes dropping to the floor still struggling on how you were going to continue this conversation.

“Come- come in, come in, have a seat,” Jimin gestures toward a chair off to the side that he shuffles to place in front of his desk. You reluctantly take a seat, clasping your fingers together tightly to fight off the trembling, and it mildly helps.

“Thank you,” you whisper, letting Jimin return to his seat across from you.

“Of course,” he replies gently, struggling to find a box of tissues, concern consuming his entire countenance. “What brings you by? Is everything…okay?”

“I…” This is so hard for you, and you know it is because there are no words to fully get anyone to understand why their child was kept from them especially when they haven’t done anything wrong to deserve that. “Jimin…” The tears return.

“Hey…” Jimin used to hold you so tight if you cried, like Seokjin would, but with seven years behind you, it’s pretty clear that Jimin wanting or considering holding you is long gone. Now, he is staring at you in confusion and probably seeing you as a long-lost stranger. “I know I ended up changing career paths, but something is definitely bothering you and the best advice I can give is to let it out.”

Wiping away another tear, you nod in agreement, sniffling before you can speak, “I know… I just never really prepared for what I’m about to tell you. It’s like… I knew this day was going to come but I just didn’t know when or… How.”

With furrowed eyebrows, Jimin leans his elbows on his desk, “What… Wait, y/n, what do you mean? Did something happen?”

Running a sour tongue over your lips, you exhale a slow breath, “Seven years ago, I discovered something and thought at the time I was making the right decision by… by not telling you.” You can’t meet his eyes. “You had so much going for you, Jimin, I was… I was so scared that if I told you what I had just found out that you would reject me… or reject her.”

Jimin’s folded hands gradually move to lay completely upon the desk, his mind is trying to make sense of what you just said, yet he can’t. And he tries to form words, but he is so rattled that he gives no choice other than to listen.

“Jimin,” you brace yourself as your body tense. “Jimin, I was pregnant.”

You can see the horrified shock in his eyes as they enlarge and the way his chest caves from the sudden blow of pain and confusion spreading all over his rigid posture. “You… were what?” His voice is so quiet, so shaky from this revelation that he can’t even meet your eyes either. “Y/N, what are you saying?” A sob chokes you as you reach to touch his hand, but he shoves your hand away. “You were what?”

“I left,” you say between the tears, “I left because I was pregnant. I know I should have told you, but I was so scared, Jimin, I didn’t know what to do- I couldn’t stand the thought of you giving up everything-”

Something is triggered in Jimin. Glass shatters in his heart. Broken. Broken and robbed is what he feels.

“But that wasn’t just your choice to make!” Jimin shoves his chair back as he rakes his hands roughly through his hair with so many emotions he could vomit.

“How could you keep this from me!? You mean all this time, losing sleep because I fucking lost you just to find out now that I had lost a child too!? My child. I have a… child, I-” His voice breaks as he tries to keep himself upright. You know he is angry, and he has every right to be. “How could you-!?”

You feel the weight of his anger. You deserve the weight of his anger. This is a piece of his life that was stripped away without his knowledge. It’s unfair to him. It’s unfair to Mae. You can’t possibly be upset with his response.

“I thought I was making the right decision, Jimin, I’m so sorry, I will spend the rest of my life being sorry, but I owe it to her. She asks about you. She wants to know who you are, and I know I waited so long, but Jimin…” You breathe, “She has your eyes. She has your smile-”

“And yet you kept her from me.” Jimin grits his teeth, fighting tears of his own as he hastily paces back and forth. “How could you-!?”

“Listen…I know what I did was wrong, and I don’t deserve any form of forgiveness from you. You can- you can hate me. Hate me as much as you want, but please, I am begging you to give her a chance to be yours, too.” You plea.

“Here-” Frantic, you fumble through your purse because you know exactly what you are looking for now. Your voice is ridden with despair and desperation to make things up to Mae, you unzip your wallet to the many small pictures you have kept over the years of Mae, and you find the most recent one where her toothy smile lights up the entire world.

Laying the picture on Jimin’s desk, you stand to your feet, “Her name is Mae. She is your daughter. And I’m so sorry that I ruined any chance of her getting to truly know you as her father.”

The pace of your heart quickens as you examine his features, waiting. You royally fucked up. You know it. But you owe it to them to try. To try again.

Jimin’s heart is shattering, and it’s written all over his scorned face as tears drip from his cheeks.

“I understand it may be too late. I may not know firsthand but…I can see how it would feel that way, but… She loved you even though she had no idea you were standing right in front of her.”

The lingering pause that followed was deafening. You were drowning in the tension and agony. What else did you expect? There are years of pain unfolding before him. What else can you do?

“I need….” Jimin’s lips tremble as he fixates on the picture of Mae. “Time…I need time to process. Please.”

You gnaw on your lower lip to refrain from crying. You understand his need for space. You respect that.

“Of course,” you whisper hoarsely.

And with that, you saunter out of the room, waiting until you are safe in your car to wail out the pain, not realizing that Jimin falls to his knees as he clutches the picture of the gift he had no idea he had.

His daughter. His daughter who he recognizes to be the sweet student that sits a few rows back whose assignment she wrote was a letter to her missing father:

Him.

Monnie clutches the rails of the hospital bed with gritted teeth as another contraction surges. The nurses rush in colorful blurs hooking up IV fluids, preparing for IV catheter placement, placing all the instruments and tools out for the doctor and who knows what else. Of course, Monnie is worried about her sister and the hell she is about to go through with Mae’s teach- father, but one thing is for sure, she wishes her husband and her mother would hurry the hell up.

“Breathe as steadily as you can,” Jeongguk, the male nurse, reminds her as she slams her eyes shut from the pain. She can’t even focus on the needle being inserted into her arm for the IV catheter placement, because the labor pains overshadow any other pain she has ever experienced. Despite it all, she is so ready to meet her baby boy. The absolute gift she cannot wait to share with her beloved husband and soon-to-be father of their child, Min Yoongi.

If only that curly headed ham would hurry up!

Palms slam against the sides of the door frame ahead after some time, prompting Monnie to lift her eyes to the silhouette, but she doubles over in brief disappointment because it’s not Yoongi, but another man that takes her a moment to recognize.

Wait a minute… Is that Seokjin? It has to be. He looks exactly like the picture in the yearbook that she saw earlier except his hair is longer and his face has matured from the boyish charm that showed in his high school portrait. He’s breathing as if he’s ran a mile, and his mouth is ajar while his chest swiftly moves in and out- in and out which disrupts the breathing pattern for Monnie unintentionally.

“Please tell me you’re my sister’s boyfriend,” she says through clenched teeth, but not in an angry way, just to keep herself from screaming with these darned contractions.

“I-” He wets his lips cautiously as if taken by surprise at first until a small smile becomes evident but only for a small moment as if he abruptly remembers where he is, “Where is she?”

“Not. Here.” Monnie tries so hard to speak clearly, and it’s obvious to Seokjin that she is doing her best and he doesn’t press further. Plus, Monnie doesn’t know how much he knows about your situation, so maybe telling him everything isn’t such a good idea. She doesn’t want to reveal too much about where you actually are.

“Is there anything I can do?” Monnie notices the nurses seem skeptical about Seokjin since he is not a relative, but Monnie waves an okay and appreciates Seokjin’s efforts at wanting to be of help. Especially, since she promised you that she’d take care of him when he arrived as well as Mae. Then, an idea strikes her.

“Actually...” She exhales slowly. “I need to make an excuse for Mae as to why her mom’s not here yet.”

She understands Seokjin’s confusion. Her sister called him and was not at the hospital when he arrived. And him suddenly meeting your sister who is in the process of preparing to give birth is an awkward way to meet for the first time.

“Okay,” Seokjin’s eyes show he’s trying to think of something, “Wha- what is her favorite fruit or snack? You can say she’s picking up something for you or- or for the baby-?”

“Yoongi loves tangerines.”

“Who-?” Seokjin’s lips form an O while his eyebrows scrunch.

“Just get me some tangerines. Who doesn’t love tangerin- AAGH-” Seokjin panics and helplessly takes his hands through his hair until Monnie recovers momentarily. “I’ll give you a cue somehow. I’ll say the word once after my husband, mom and niece arrive. Just keep your ears alive or y/n is gonna look real. Dumb.”

“Okay.” Seokjin nods once, stepping back immediately once his head jolts to see who is entering the hallway. “I won’t let you down.”

“Yep. That’s the spirit- AAGH-”

Mae nervously fidgets with a stuffed animal given to her by her grandma who is chirping with excitement despite Uncle Yoongi’s desperate voice as he speeds toward the hospital. Mae can’t help the anxious way she feels because she knows something big is about to happen. Aunt Monnie is going to have a baby. Mae is going to be a big cousin and despite her curious stares at the adults talking frantically in front of her as Uncle Yoongi drives- she is also excited. Inwardly, she wishes her mother could be with her, but she understands that you had to take your sister to the hospital.

Mae is unaware of how close they are to pulling into the parking lot of the facility, but once arrived, Grandma rushes to help her out of her seatbelt and Mae grips her hand as they follow a sprinting Yoongi into the hospital doors. “Is Mommy here yet?” Mae whispers, staring up at her grandma who catches her breath once reaching Yoongi.

She smiles reassuringly, “I’m sure she is here somewhere with your aunt and the baby. Don’t worry, Sweetheart.”

Mae can’t help it though. Sometimes her comfort is with you regardless. Either way, she doesn’t lose hold of her grandmother’s hand as the pair rush onto an elevator with Yoongi. His hands are jittery as he fumbles from putting them in his pockets versus running a hand through his hair. He is so ready to be with his wife and soon to be son he can hardly concentrate.

Mae smiles to herself in excitement, until she notices a young couple exiting the elevator she was about to enter. In the father’s arms is a car seat where the sweetest little bundle of joy is currently sleeping. The father has a glow in his eyes as he gazes constantly at the baby and over at his wife. He gazes at her in appreciation of the life she has given. Mae captures this encounter for a brief few seconds before losing sight of them behind the closed doors. The prior excitement subsides. What remains is an overwhelming sadness. Would her dad have been this excited about her being born? Would he have looked at her in the same way that father just did?

A big piece of her heart was missing.

The ding of the elevator distracts Mae momentarily and the three exit the doors and into the hallway.

For a brief moment, Mae’s eyebrows furrow when she recognizes the man who had visited Mr. Park earlier today. What was he doing at the hospital? Is he okay? The man’s hair seems ruffled, and his mouth is ajar as he looks around as if trying to find something… Or someone. Could he be looking for lost treasure? Mae wonders- her favorite fairy tales that she has seen countless times help create a story in her mind as she watches him eventually settle on a bench that happens to be right in front of the door Uncle Yoongi rushes into.

“Who is that man?” Mae murmurs to her grandma who follows her gaze.

“Hm,” Grandma harrumphs, tilting her head as if some recognition forms on her face. “He seems healthy. Let’s go see how your Aunt Monnie is doing.”

When Mae sees Aunt Monnie, she looks around for a baby but learns that he has not arrived just yet. Damp hair covers the sides of Monnie’s forehead as she tries to suppress the pain as much as she can. Uncle Yoongi is comforting her to the best of his ability, and he squeezes Monnie’s hand while she breathes slow and steady breaths in between. Mae also notices the nurses rushing to get everything prepared, but… where are you?

“Where’s mommy? And, where’s my cousin?”

“I’m sure she will be here soon. Maybe she went to the bathroom? And oh, silly girl, babies take time entering the world. He will be here soon enough I promise.”

Mae meets Aunt Monnie’s eyes in widened astonishment as kids do when they seem to understand the seriousness of whatever situation they are about to witness. “Hey there, Mae,” Aunt Monnie’s voice is thickened with discomfort, but she tries to force a smile through the sheer pain of labor. “Your mom will be on her way soon. I made her go… pick up some tangerines.” She tries to raise her voice loud enough as if to capture someone’s attention.

“Tangerines?”

Mae notices the utterly confused look on Yoongi’s face as well as the ajar mouth of questioning that drops open from her grandmother, but it seems Aunt Monnie shares a look of ‘will explain later’ although Mae is too young to understand exactly what that could mean in adult language.

And apparently, Mae is way too young to be watching a woman give birth, so eventually her and her grandmother return to the hallway where Mae notices the man she noticed earlier is still here.

More questions spin in her mind as she watches him, but she also tries to keep herself preoccupied by clutching the stuffed animal closer to her side. Grandma moves her hand to her shoulder.

“Your mother should be here soon. And then once she is, we will get to meet your cousin. Are you excited?”

“Very excited. I didn’t even know babies could have tangerines.” Mae smiles wide despite being nervous, and she hugs her grandma, anticipatingly waiting not only for her cousin to make his appearance, but to also finally get to be by your side during this celebration with a bag full of one of her favorite fruits.

It’s the determination. Bursting through the doors of the hospital with fresh, warm tear stains and hardly a moment to figure out how to audibly ask which room your sister was taken to before you left. Memories of the ceiling and you being rushed to a room spark as well as the intense burn of contractions while you gripped whatever you could with clenched teeth. The desperate way you felt to bring this little life into the world was all you could think about as well as the excitement of finally getting to hold her in your arms. Now, it’s your sister’s turn to experience the endless joy of becoming a mother.

Aside from the determination, it’s the devastation swarming your chest in powerful waves for the betrayal you have revealed, and the forgiveness you hope your daughter will give you over time once the truth is finally brought to light. The truth Mae has been wishing for since the day she understood she had a father out there somewhere. Little did Mae know, her father would unintentionally find her, and now it is your mission and priority to bring them together no matter what it takes.

Jimin asked for time, and time will be what you give him. For Mae, her time to know is now because not only did you rob Jimin from his daughter, but you also robbed your daughter from having a father. Even if neither of them ultimately forgives you, how can you blame them? You are going to have to battle forgiving yourself just as much.

Mae’s face is all you can see as you jog to the nearest elevator and the agonizing slow pace of reaching the level your sister’s room is nearly smothers you in panic. Wanting to see your daughter is all you care about aside from meeting your nephew and seeing the man you have fallen in love with who has no idea of where you just were. It's all too much, but if you can just get to your daughter, you will be okay again.

“Mommy!” Her voice shouts in exhilaration when she sees your running frame enter the hallway. Smiling with more tears blurring your vision, her outspread arms rush toward you until you are holding her so close, your heart swells at her giggles muffling into your shoulder. “There you are!”

Mae’s stuffed animal squishes against you too but you don’t even dare to let your daughter go.

“I love you so much,” you cry, pulling away to peck all over her chubby cheeks as she laughs a tad louder.

“Mommy!” She pulls away slightly, kissing you sweetly on your cheek. “I just saw you this morning!”

“I know, but it feels like ten long, horrendous years.” You swipe at a tear on your cheek as you squeeze her one more time. To your surprise, Mae looks around you and your hands as if she is confused. “Is something wrong, baby?”

“Where’s? Where’s the tangerines?”

Now it’s your turn to be confused as you open and shut your mouth multiple times before hearing the light chuckle of your mom who steps closer not wanting to initially interrupt you reuniting with your daughter before getting an update on your sister.

“Monnie said she sent you to pick up tangerines.” Your mother winks once you realize with a mouthed ‘Oh’ that your sister was covering for you. Which then brings the sharp stab of guilt at the thought of Jimin and the pain you caused him. And the even deeper stab being that your daughter has no idea that you just met with her father who has been her teacher this entire time.

Before you can even figure out how to put your stammering words together to come up with even the slightest excuse, a bag of tangerines dangle in your vision where your gaze slides from the bag to the handsome broad shoulders and face of Kim Seokjin.

“Did somebody say tangerines? I saw you accidentally drop them earlier when I was coming from the cafeteria. Figured I’d return them to their rightful owner.”

The warmth that replaces the sadness from a second ago is enough to make you want to jump into his arms as his lips quirk into a sweet smile. You know good and damn well that this man went out of his way to pick up these tangerines from God knows where, but how did he even know to get them in the first place? He must have overheard Monnie’s explanation to Mae? Knowing Mae and how much she loves to ask questions sometimes, maybe she asked them, and he happened to be in the vicinity? Whatever the case, you are beyond thankful for him stepping in. ‘Thank you,’ you mouth toward him while Mae jumps in enthusiasm.

“You’re the man who visited Mr. Park earlier!” Mae exclaims, which makes you cock an eyebrow in surprise. Jin was with Jimin earlier? But then, the next thought makes you cringe because Mae just referred to her father as Mr. Park- not that she knows of course, but it brings back the guilt all the same. Your plan to tell Mae needs to be soon, but at what moment will be the right time?

Seokjin laughs as if he is embarrassed because now you are aware that he visited Jimin earlier and knows you are going to want an explanation even though he doesn’t necessarily owe you one. It’s not like he knew that Jimin didn’t know he had a daughter unless it was that obvious. Honestly, all these anxious cycles of questions are making your head feel heavy, and no matter what, you hope for a positive outcome for everyone.

“Why yes, I was.” Seokjin says, looking at Mae, “He is a great fella. Me, him, and your mom go way back.” Oh shit.

Seokjin, realizing he may have said too much, locks eyes with you as your heart nearly plummets to the ground in fear. Your mother is oblivious to the whole scene as she keeps her eyes toward the door of Monnie’s room where the doctor has hopefully begun checking Monnie’s dilation. As much as you want your focus to be solely on your sister and the baby, it seems like everything unfolding is keeping you from doing so.

“You know Mr. Park, too, Mommy?” Mae asks innocently.

One thing Mae does know is that you have not met her teacher yet because her aunt and uncle are the ones who took her to the open house and have helped take her to school while you started your new job. Clutching the side of your purse that nestles the picture of you and Jimin, you try to swallow the dry lump in your throat. Seokjin seems as though he wants to kick himself, but none of this is anywhere near his fault. You are the reason this is happening the way it is happening. You are the one who chose to flee from the man who gave you this precious, little girl whom you love more than anything in this entire world. Now, there is a choice that is being presented to you. Struggling with what to do, the stifled shout of a deep voice turns everyone's head toward the door housing Monnie, Yoongi and a medical team which causes all of you to rush with pressed ears to hear what could be happening.

“PUSH!” And with sheer elation, everyone holds their breaths as they know now is the time for Monnie’s baby boy to enter the world. Your hand finds Mae’s as the large, warm hand of Seokjin squeezes your shoulder- his other hand still clutching the bag of tangerines. You’ll kiss him really good later for that one, but for now, your brain is fully devoted to your baby nephew and your trooper of a sister. Sharing delightful giggles with your mother, it’s amazing how a baby can bring a family together in the most serene way.

By the time everything starts falling into place, you and Mae share a happy look as you follow your mother into the hospital room where your sister with teary eyes holds a blue blanket wrapped around the tiny body of her and Yoongi’s baby boy. Mae skips to the bed rails where her small hands hold tightly- her sweet eyes glued to the baby as she gasps in awe.

“He’s so… perfect,” she whispers while Monnie and Yoongi share emotional smiles.

“Just like you,” Monnie holds Mae’s gaze as she reaches a free hand to brush the back of Mae’s knuckles. “Absolutely just like you.”

You’re frozen in place at the beautiful scene- Seokjin’s hand on your back keeps you steady but there is no stopping the silent tears as they drip down your cheeks. He is beautiful. The sweet bundle of joy and happiness making two people you love parents and the absolute unconditional love already pouring from Yoongi and Monnie. This moment will be burned in your memory forever. A moment you wish you could have shared with Jimin.

“What’s his name?” Mae asks quietly, still in her childlike trance.

“Sammy,” Monnie replies, tilting her head to look into her husband’s eyes. “His name is Sammy.”

As the night continues, everyone gets a chance to hold Sammy while pictures are taken from left to right. You even include a swift introduction of Seokjin, whom Monnie briefly met before Yoongi arrived as you learned since Seokjin booked it to the hospital after you called. When it comes to Mae’s turn to hold Sammy, you have to restrain from crying even more at how you fall in love with the thrill in her countenance as her small legs kick after taking a seat, reaching her arms out to welcome him.

“He’s so heavy!” She exclaims as a chorus of laughter echoes within the room.

“Yeah!” Monnie says with teasing eyes, “Imagine how long I had to carry that bun.”

“And then push it out,” your mom elbows Monnie’s shoulder with a wink.

“Oh Lord,” you playfully roll your eyes, “Let’s not teach my child health class too early. I’m not ready for her to grow up.” You mutter to yourself spinning to take more pictures of your daughter holding your newborn nephew. Seokjin offers after an hour and a half of the family visiting Sammy, to take your mother home since you want to spend more time with your daughter and your sister. Your mother’s droopy eyes want to decline, but Monnie insists that she get some rest with her old age.

“I’m not as old as you think. Just you wait. You’re gonna wish you had the spunk I have.”

“The spunk left the trunk in 1976.” Monnie teases prompting a glare from your mother, but you also know Monnie was always closer to your father even after your parents divorced.

“I’ll have you know that your father loved my spunk, why else do you exist?”

Chorus of laughter turns into groaning; you leave Mae with your sister and brother-in-law briefly as you follow Seokjin and your mother out in the hallway. Whether it’s impeccable timing, your mother gets a phone call and starts exhaustingly yapping to whoever it is, giving you a few minutes to talk to Seokjin.

“Thank you again,” you say as he pauses in front of you, staring into your soul with the kindest eyes you have ever seen, yet there is a look of distance that you catch.

“Anytime,” he says. If your mother wasn’t standing right there, you would have kissed him so hard on the mouth, but instead, you reach up just to give him a quick peck on his cheek. “Now you keep my mother safe. She’s a bit crazy.”

“I remember,” he chuckles, pulling you in for a hug. Taking him in, you are so thankful for the man he has always been and the rock you have always needed. How did you make it seven years without him? How was that even possible? He moves his mouth closer to your ear causing pleasurable shivers along your skin.

“He was always my friend.” Your auditory senses perk at his words as your heart skips a beat. “And I realized that I didn’t know he had a daughter because he didn’t know he had a daughter.” Squeezing you tightly one more time, you feel the lump in your throat again. “I know you will do the right thing.” And with that, Seokjin pulls away, holding your eyes before lightly pinching your chin with his fingers. He wasn’t saying goodbye, but you can tell from the sadness etched in his gaze that he wants you to make things right before being with him.

“Jin… I-”

“You’ll do the right thing. It may not feel like it now, but you will make things right because that’s the kind of person you are.” Leaning forward, he presses a slow, warm kiss to your lips causing fireworks to spark deep within your chest. Breathless, even from the simplicity of the kiss, he pulls away slightly to meet your eyes, “I love you,” he whispers, “And I always will.”

Words are taken from you as you stiffly watch him reach a hand for your mother’s shoulder to lead her toward the elevators, him holding your gape before stepping on officially. Your mother is still smiling into the phone, not aware of what happened between you and Seokjin, and your heart is pounding profusely through your temples. Seokjin loves you. He just said he loves you. You didn’t have a second to say it back because you are too stunned to even exhale.

You are uncertain of how long you stand there in the hallway rigid with surprise. Breathing deeply until your shaky hands have settled, you know what you need to do. Turning slowly, you walk into the dimly lit hospital room where you see Yoongi laying next to Monnie, staring down at their son who is now their pride and joy. The exact look you gave Mae after she was born and the same look that will never die. Flitting your vision, you find Mae sitting on one of the cushions laid out for anyone who decides to stay the night with their loved one and sitting there, staring back at you, is your purse that holds the answer Mae has been waiting for as well as an opened bag of tangerines. Stepping softly, you take a seat next to your daughter wrapping a gentle arm around her.

“I think your cousin loves you so much already.” You coo, kissing the side of her forehead. Mae continues to watch her cousin, her smile remaining planted on her bright expression. “You are going to be the best cousin ever, and I know you will let him know it.”

“Thank you, Mommy.” She sighs dreamily. “Today has been a good day.”

“I’m so glad.” You murmur, watching the interaction between your sister and her little family. Of course, you know what you need to do, but would it continue to make Mae’s day better? Or will this good day Mae says it will come crashing and burning if you reveal the truth? There is an urge or a strong pounding of your heart that this is it. This is the time to tell Mae about her father, but are there words to even begin?

You let the minutes pass by slowly, giving some time to settle until you gather your words. Your fingers have already run through your daughter’s long hair before you speak softly.

“Mae, I just want you to know that you are the best thing to ever happen to me.” Mae looks up at you with softened eyes. “And you always will be no matter what… There is also someone who deserves to know you just as much as I do. And though it may take time, I know you will be the best thing to ever happen to him as well.”

Mae’s eyes widen when realization dawns on her, yet she holds the question evident in her expression. “I’m really sorry…” You choke back a sob, “I’m really sorry that I never told you sooner, and I will live the rest of my life trying to make it up to you. And to your father if he lets me.”

Reaching for your purse, you find the pocket that holds the folded picture of you and Mae’s father and once it is securely gripped between your fingertips, you lift it into you and Mae’s line of vision. Her eyes immediately glue to the folded picture as she anxiously swallows.

“I love you, Mae.” You whisper and you unfold the picture, exposing the truth you thought you could keep hidden, but instead, the heavy burden you’ve buried lifts from your heart and shoulders as the opened picture brings closure to the young girl staring back at it.

There is no anger in her eyes. No hatred for being left in the dark. Instead, she is overcome by all consuming joy. She has a father. This whole time she has been in the same room as him. A man so kind. The years as a younger girl that may have been shattered are now slowly healing. Being so little can mean that it is difficult to express her true emotions. Except it’s all right there in her eyes.

Mae has a father, and she couldn’t be more at peace.

Two months later…

“Okay, just remember that she absolutely loves ice cream, but don’t let her eat too much!” You stress as you hold your hands out, “It sometimes upsets her stomach, so just let her have maximum two scoops and that’s it-”

“Y/N,” Jimin chuckles as he gives you a pointed look, resting his hands on his hips. “How many times have I told you that I know this? You’ve told me-”

“Countless times, I know,” you groan, running your palms over your face. “I’m sorry, I’m still not used to no longer being a single parent. Sharing is hard.”

“And I understand that completely, but you also must remember that she is my daughter, too.” A side grin tugs at his thick lips as the screen door remains stopped by his elbow.

“Dad, c’mon! We’re gonna be late!” Mae drones from the passenger side of his car, her excitement exuberant and her nonstop conversation of another adventure with her dad is all she has been talking about since Jimin made the decision to officially be in his daughter’s life. It didn’t take much time- only a week and Mae willingly switched classrooms and slowly became introduced into Jimin’s life. His tears were endless the day he wrapped his arms around her for the first time, nearly falling to his knees while she buried her face into his shoulder. Mae finally found her father. And, two months later, it has been continuous adventures: Jimin and his little sidekick, Mae.

“I’m coming, Kiddo!” He laughs, returning to face you while he shakes his head teasingly. “The punctuality she gets from me.”

You scoff, “Excuse you.”

“It’s true and you know it.”

Your eyes soften at the man before you. Uncrossing your arms, you reach to hug him. Tightly. Every ounce of thankfulness, happiness, sorrow, guilt, any emotion that exists is held within this hug as you feel his arms completing the embrace. He feels the emotions, too. He is taking this all in, too.

“You are also an amazing father,” you whisper as tears brim. “Thank you so much for choosing her.”

He squeezes you close one more time before pulling away. “I will always choose her.”

There will never be a relationship again, but the parental bond you two will share is everything you could have asked for. Wiping at a tear that escaped, Jimin nods his farewell before sprinting to the driver’s side of his car. Laughing hysterically at Mae, who must have made a pouty joke, you watch in pride as your daughter smiling with glee, shoves her father’s shoulder as he backs out of the driveway to head to Mae’s favorite ice cream shop. You never imagined the day would come, but you have all the gratefulness in the world that it did. Your daughter is complete. The father of your daughter is complete. Your family is complete.

There’s just one more thing you have to do.

Rushing to grab your keys, you slip on a pair of shoes and sprint to your car after locking up the house. You know who you are about to visit is off today, and you happened to take some time off to be with your daughter before she stays with her dad for the weekend. It doesn’t take long until you see the familiar road that will bring you to the one who made you whole aside from your daughter, and the second you pull into his driveway, you run a hand through your hair letting a long, jittery sigh escape.

Clearing your throat, you rush out of your car and saunter to his front door, keeping a hand on your stomach from the slight nausea wanting to rear its head. There has been some communication on and off throughout the past couple months, but there is something you have been wanting to tell him ever since the two of you reconnected.

Ringing the doorbell, you run quivering palms over your clothes, and when the click of the door opens, your heart halts at meeting his surprised eyes.

“Jin!” You say faster with a gust of excitement than you anticipate, so you clear your throat again before continuing. “I’m sorry, I just… I needed to see you.”

Slowly stepping forward, Seokjin steadily places a warm hand to your cheek where his thumb strokes your skin so softly it's as if you are in a dream. Yet, your eyes never leave his gentle, brown irises as tears fill his eyes. He’s missed you. He’s missed you so much and he has never stopped waiting on you and the woman he knew you would and have become.

“I love you, too.” You breathe, letting the words sink in before Seokjin’s lips crash to yours. Now that life seems to be exactly where it’s supposed to be- the way it should be, now even you feel complete. The emptiness fled once the truth was told, and now you can happily be in the arms of Kim Seokjin while your daughter gets to learn about the father she’s always wanted to know.

Wrapping your arms behind Seokjin’s shoulders, you let him whisk you away into happiness, because now you can finally allow yourself to feel it.

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