This Is Probably So Random But I Cant Help But Think Abt Jk In Kimset Whenever I Listen To The Grudge

This is probably so random but i can’t help but think abt jk in kimset whenever i listen to the grudge by olivia rodrigo 😫😫😫

OMG?? Yes! That song fits so perfectly with jk at the moment! I have my own playlist while writing Kimset and The Grudge is on there so I’m really glad I was able to capture the vibes of the song while writing about our Kookie.

Honestly, most of Olivia Rodrigo's songs match with Kimset. Another few songs I’d suggest are Places We Won’t Walk by Bruno Major and The Night We Met by Lord Huron! <33

Kimset (III)

Pairing: ot6 x Jungkook | Jungkook x Everyone

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

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

Word Count: 13k

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

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

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

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

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

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

Present but not really there. 

"Are those the thornvine roots?" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Well, we could always—"

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

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

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

At least he got to meet Yugyeom again.

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

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

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

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

It was too intimate. 

Too familiar.  

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

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

When was the last time Yugyeom called him Kookie?

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

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

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

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

Kookie? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kookie? 

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

"Okay." 

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

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

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

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

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

Yugyeom was happy. 

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

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

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

"Sad." 

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

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

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

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

"We?" 

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

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

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

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

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

He couldn't. 

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

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

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

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

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

And then, they both—

"Jungkook?"

Oh.

Oh. 

That was a long time ago.

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

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

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

How could he hate that world?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"So—" 

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

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

"We agreed." 

"Because—" 

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

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

"We lost everything." 

"Or, at least—I had lost everything." 

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

"Jungkook?" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh. 

Hoseok was worried. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jung—” 

“Jeon Jungkook?” 

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

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

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

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

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

Did he realize which of his worlds had remained. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Why?" 

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

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

Honesty. 

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

His parents went ballistic. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jungkook smiled; well, at least tried to.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

How had he not noticed this? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Nope." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Wow—"

"Gah!" 

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

Seeing Yugyeom by his side still felt so new . 

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

He wasn't. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Take that as you will." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I love you, kiddo." 

"I love you too, Halmoni." 

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

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

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

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

"No," Yugyeom replied groggily. Liar. 

Jungkook chuckled, "Get some sleep, Yuggy." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

me, the motherfucker with over 50 abandoned works in progress: i have an idea

Kimset - (III) Teaser

A little somethin for y'all while I wrap up the next chapter

“You were like the sun.” 

“You were my sun.” 

“And—“ 

“—and when you left.” 

“You took the sunlight with you.” 

“I—I spent years in that darkness, not able to see where I’m going, where I’m heading; it was all just empty.” 

“So when I finally—finally managed to light a candle, you show up.” 

“And I don’t care, I don’t care that your presence promises me sunlight.” 

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

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

“—like, like it was easy to leave me.” 

Ao3 Link => Here

Can we guess who Jks talking too? ;)

Kimset - (I)

Pairing: ot6 x Jungkook | Jungkook x Everyone

Genre: Witch AU, Ex's to lovers, Romance

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

Word Count: 14k

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

"Souls are priceless. They exist only once, tied to the nature of our very existence. They thrive when their host does, weep when we do, and wither when we pass. Souls cannot lie. They lack the ability to speak and, therefore, compensate for their silence through the non-negotiable. Emotions. A language in its own right, complex and intricate, and on most occasions, we fail to understand them ourselves." 

The train was more relaxed than it usually was during rush hour but packed enough that some people had to stand and grasp onto the railings to keep themselves from losing balance. A sharp contrast to the near body-to-body contact one would be familiar with during Busan rush hour when businessmen and women would return home from work. Permanent-looking frowns and scowls etched onto their features, their smiles seemingly drained away from the exhausting facade of customer-friendly dedication. 

"People have the innate ability to do what souls cannot, and that is to deceive and lie. Whether to others or ourselves, is a completely normalized aspect of humanity." The woman stated, a natural tut to her voice that lingered with a chiding nature. It was clear she disapproved of dishonesty. "A flower cannot lie about its withering nature nor conceal its yellowing leaves. A cat will never lie about stealing food from the canary; it will simply defend its actions through sharpened claws and ruffled fur." 

Lying is a uniquely human ability. 

"It's this dishonesty that forces souls to weave a more noticeable, irrefutable honesty between each other. People are not meant for solitude, the cumbersome weight of loneliness marrying itself to a melancholy so heavy, it kills. That is why, on every individual, there is a red string. An extension of one's soul, connected to another across some part of the world. Those connected by these red strings are called soulmates."

Jungkook's playlist had run its course a few minutes ago, headphones now resting pointlessly over his ears. He had listened intently to the little lecture the kid's mother provided, his eyes drifting to the red strings attached to his pinky. The tip of his tongue toyed irritably with his lip piercing. Six loops, tied and knotted securely around the little appendage. Secure, occasionally tugging him in one way or the other. 

"So, like you and Appa?" The little kid asked, his voice innocent and cheerful. It had a lilt to its tone. 

The woman laughed, lips creasing upwards and revealing small dimples on each of her cheeks. Small little smile lines were beginning to grow across her features; the woman seemed to smile a lot. Jungkook thought briefly, looking away from the sweet display as if it singed him to look at it. In many ways, it did.

"Mhm, just like me and Appa." Again, that sugared tone made Jungkook cringe. He knew he was being dramatic; he wasn't even supposed to be listening in on this clearly tender moment between mother and son. But the train left little space, or rather, privacy. 

"Soulmates are meant to be together, my little cherub. It's meant to be." 

Bullshit.

Jungkook nearly had to restrain himself from spitting out those words. Memories of Namjoon dragging him to the nearest bookstore off campus because apparently the author of his favorite book series released multiple versions of the same story, but with different endings, and Namjoon just had to have all of them. Even the threat of getting caught by the cynical dean didn't deter Namjoon. Which is what ended up happening. They were stuck in detention for two weeks and had cooking duty for one, but how could he have been mad when all Namjoon could do was beam and gush about the endings, revealing his dimple and shaping his eyes into little crescents?

Or Hoseok, who had bandaged him up after a nasty fight with Ju-won, the academy's grade-A asshole. He had hidden out in the botanical greenhouse, sulking quietly and licking his wounds as he tried to recuperate himself; tears trickled down his cheeks and soaked into his uniform. Jungkook had the nasty habit of hiding his pain rather than seeking comfort in his hyungs. Hoseok was a phenomenally skilled witch, but his greatest skill pertained to finding Jungkook when he didn't necessarily want to be found. It's how he ended up sitting on the edge of the garden's large mahogany work table, Hoseok hiking up his pants and tending to his scratched knees. Kissing his bruised and split knuckles and wiping away his tears one by one. Until his pain felt phantom and eventually disappeared altogether. 

Jin had gone ballistic when he caught word of Jungkook's brawl when he and Hoseok returned to the group's shared dorm. Pacing up and down the room, flailing his arms in a dramatic fashion as he lectured and chided Jungkook. He could still recall the way Jin's eyes melted from stern to a weakening tenderness. Kneeling down in front of Jungkook, an action that nearly gave him a heart attack at the time, pulled him into one of the warmest embraces he'd ever felt. How delicately Jin draped a blanket over his shoulder and pleaded with Jungkook to confide in them in the future if Ju-won became too much. Jin had whispered that once they graduated and were officially able to form a coven, Jungkook's burdens would become theirs as well. 

They never did form a coven. 

The light-recorded voice of the subway station announcer declaring his stop had Jungkook forcing the memories of his past away. Glancing down, he stole a brief look at the six red strings attached to his finger, and his heart squeezed painfully. As if the truth of his situation pained it enough to halt its beating purpose, and weep alongside him. He inhaled sharply, forcing air into his lungs as the metro's tightly sealed doors slid open. Placing one robotic foot in front of the other, he got off the subway and returned to the busy world of Busan. Businessmen shuffled alongside him, shoulders tense and strung uncomfortably straight behind them. Jungkook momentarily remarked how grateful he was to not work in a cubicle all day. 

In the dimly lit depths of the subway station, a sense of unease gradually began to bloom. An unsettling, familiar itch underneath his skin warned him. Practically declared the wrongness inside his body. As the trains rumbled and screeched on their tracks, he felt the tight, spine-curdling sensation—a fleeting brush of something unsettling against his senses. His lungs halted, body tense as he paused his steps. Bracing himself for the approaching horror of his growing symptoms, the city's constant hustle and bustle oblivious to the quiet terror Jungkook fought within himself in public. 

He leaned against a concrete pillar, eyes darting toward the flickering fluorescent lights that cast uneven shadows upon the worn tiles. It was there, in that indistinct interplay of light and darkness, that he sensed the dreaded whisper, a sensation akin to a cool breath upon his neck.

Shifting his gaze over his shoulder, Jungkook felt his fear cement him to the dirty tiles. The shadows around him seemed to move like wraiths seeking form, flickering at the edge of his vision. He blinked, wishing the taunting shadows to leave him be. To abandon their morbid pursuit towards him and return to their rightful place. But then, in the corner of his vision, he caught a glimpse—a shadow that moved, distinct from the others. It was as if it had detached itself from the ordinary play of darkness. Like the outline of a silhouette, a barely perceptible figure materialized for a fleeting instant before fading back into obscurity.

The subway arrived, its doors sliding open with a hiss, and a crowd of commuters shuffled forward. The shadows returned to their rightful place, and only then did he feel his lungs fill with air again. The world stayed oblivious to his dilemma because, of course, they would; they couldn't see what he saw.

Jungkook stood frozen against a directory board, displaying all the subway station stops across Busan. His aura quivered, and the dread torpid pull of experiencing one of his illnesses' symptoms weighed him down immensely. Sometimes, he forgot he was sick to begin with, that the magic inside of him was running rampant and inviting things—shadows, to come and torment him. With a slight push, Jungkook leveled his breathing and began walking again.  

The plastic grocery bags rustled against each other as he navigated his way through the crowds with practiced ease. Upon leaving the station, Jungkook took notice of the soft drizzle from the sky. Littering the ground in small dots before darkening the paved asphalt entirely. It was raining, because of course it had to be. The sky seemed to cry whenever Jungkook lost himself in his reminiscence. 

Taehyung and him had missed the bus back to the academy, having gotten separated from the rest. No doubt an intentional act now that he thought about it. Although all seven of them were connected by those red strings of fate, Jungkook and Taehyung took the longest time to bond. Taehyung was bratty and stubborn, and Jungkook was hot-tempered and just as obstinate. The tension between them was usually thick enough to slice, and most of their conversations were spent bickering and annoying each other. Jin used to joke about how their sole purpose in life was to give him gray hairs and premature wrinkles. It wasn't until they had their biggest argument to date and Taehyung had taken to spray painting a local store in Hangawoondae—the town adjacent to the academy—an act of vandalism the store's owner grew livid over. Typically, a breach of rules would be punished through acts of service, but this was Taehyung's third offense. The punishment would have been expulsion. Jungkook still recalled bursting into the Headmaster's office and berating Taehyung for taking credit for his artwork, effectively taking the blame for him. Jungkook had ended up with weeks' worth of detention and unpaid labor at the store Taehyung vandalized. Neither of them talked about that moment, a lingering awkward tension now between them as neither of the two wanted to start the desperately needed conversation. Neither of them wanted to initiate vulnerability. 

The two had decided to walk back to the academy in the rain, fearing the dean's punishment for their tardiness. But the rain had been ferocious, forcing them to seek shelter in a nearby shrine. They were soaked, uniforms drenched and clinging uncomfortably to their skin. Jungkook could still recall the sound of Taehyung's unfiltered laughter and could picture the way his eyes creased and face contorted into one of sheer amusement and happiness. A lot had been said underneath that shrine, a vulnerability blossomed between them, and the red string tying them together had never felt more in place. 

Taehyung and Jungkook returned to the academy that noon, standing beside each other as the dean scolded their existence to the high heavens. Neither of them could force the smile off their lips, hide how their fingers occasionally brushed against each other, and how their relationship seemingly had changed upon their return.  

Ironically, Jungkook had felt the closest to Taehyung. Both of them were troubled, lashed out, and dealt with their emotions in problematic manners; they understood each other's deviant natures. 

Now, in the present, Jungkook refused to shield himself from the rain. The drops darkened his clothes, cooled his skin, and pulled down his hair as it grew wet the longer he walked. A part of him hated the rain, perhaps mainly because it reminded him so mercilessly of the delinquent he fell in love with underneath the cover of a shrine all those years ago. 

The bookstore was a small distance away, half a block, and clearly visible from its location as a corner piece of the street. The brick walls were painted a mat black, while the doors wore a more rundown but still striking auburn color. Over the two red doors, on a black ledge before the bookstore met the classic unpainted bricks of the apartment overtop, stood bold golden letters reading, BOOKS. The name always made Jungkook snicker; his Halmoni was never the creative type. Opting to be direct over some mystical fantasy titles. She sold books and prefered to make that quite clear. The red doors had a similar design to old telephone booths in England; beside them, separated by a black pillar, was the store's display window. Books are neatly organized and spaced, entirely deceiving of the chaotic nature inside the actual store.

Seeing the familiar store always made Jungkook release the tensions residing inside him; he wouldn't be surprised if that was due to some of his Halmonis spells, but she vehemently denied these accusations, boasting about her calming aura instead.  

The inside of the store was a sharp contrast to its outward appearance; the black and reds gave the store an elegant impression. The interior was different, the floorboards an assortment of different woods. Bookshelves overflowed with books to the point that Halmoni had opted to simply start piles on the floor, some nearly beginning to kiss the ceiling. Small lounge chairs were placed by the windows, and plants and ivy snuck around any pillars and support structures within the store, sometimes raining down on bookshelves. The store always smelt acutely of cinnamon and vanilla, depending on what tea Halmoni had chosen to brew herself that day. The aisles were narrow, with occasional floorboards creaking depending on where you stepped. 

Jungkook adored the store, in all its hazardous nature. He felt at peace at the disorganization, the warm scents, and the smell of old pages. The idly chit-chat between patrons, Jungkook loved it all.

"Aish, if I didn't know any better, I'd say your mood was causing this weather," Chae-Won stated casually, pulling Jungkook out of his memories. The hell was going on with him today? He thought bitterly; entering the bookstore he worked at must've become so familiar; not even the calming jingle of the bells attached to the door frame had alerted him to his arrival. 

"Sorry, Halmoni." He muttered half-heartedly, his head filled with too much to really feel any remorse. Quite frankly, Jungkook wasn't even sure what exactly he was apologizing for. He held the plastic bags of groceries loosely, walking around the front counter and into the actual home he shared with Chae-Won, an elderly woman who had practically adopted him and insisted he addressed her as his halmoni. That was approximately six years ago, and now Chae-Won felt like family to him.

He set the groceries down on the kitchen counter, vaguely aware of the soft footsteps that had followed him into the space. He focused on organizing and storing the supplies he got, Chae-won was a very disorganized person. However, most items need to be stored in the lower cupboards to accommodate her small stature. He devoted his sole attention to the rather mundane task, all to avoid the worrisome stare of his halmoni. The elderly witch had the innate ability to detangle Jungkook with a simple look, finding the root of his problem with frightening accuracy. Jimin had that ability, too. 

Jungkook nearly flinched at the thought, his movements halting as he looked at the now spotless kitchen. Vegetables in the fridge and other dry ingredients stored in the pantry. There was nothing else to do, and yet he still struggled to look up and meet his halmoni's gaze. 

A long sigh filled the room, sounding both tired and sympathetic. Jungkook nearly recoiled at the sound, stealing his body as it leaned against the kitchen counter. His eyes were transfixed against the window, watching the raindrops trickle down the glass and race towards the bottom. The sound of shuffling, footsteps, and the kettle being filled and turned on occupied the room. Two mugs clink together as they are grabbed from the top cupboard and placed on the counter, followed by more rustling of clothes. The water began to screech as it boiled; a moment of silence and then the sweet aroma of herbs and oranges filled the small space. 

"Sit with me, honey." Jungkook forced his gaze to part from the window, glancing at Chae-Won, who had already sat down on the couch in the living room. Adjacent to the kitchen, a large archway connected the two rooms. Two cups of tea simmered on the coffee table, and Jungkook pushed himself off his spot against the countertop, walking over at a lethargic pace before sitting down beside her. Grabbing his cup of tea, thanking her quietly, before taking a sip. 

Halmoni was a short, elderly woman. With gray hair that was often tied into a round tight bun atop her head, her body naturally hunched over as she stood and walked. She had smile lines and wrinkles to indicate all the happy years she's experienced. Usually, a wool shawl was draped over her shoulders, as she tended to get cold rather quickly. If one were to picture a sweet, old witch who tends to a bookstore, that'd be his Halmoni.  

"Repressing what has happened will not make it go away, honey." Halmonis's voice cut through the rooms stillness, the pattering of rain against the windows accompanying her gravelly tone. Soft, but a clear indication of her old age. Jungkook inhaled sharply, releasing a shuddering breath as he tried to focus on the tangy smell of oranges, the taste of sweet herbs, and fruitiness. 

Yoongi had loved tea. Exam season was always so stressful for all of them, but Yoongi upheld himself to the strictest regime. He'd burrow himself in books and papers, hold himself up in his room, and pull all-nighters. Jungkook recalled how dark circles always formed underneath Yoongi's soft features during the weeks leading up to the exams. Shoulders permanently tense, a usually relaxed expression contorted into one of exhaustion and concentration. Jungkook, who often struggled with insomnia, would sneak into Yoongi's room with a tray of sweets and tea. He'd coerce him into taking a break, light the fireplace because Yoongi tended to let the flames dwindle and drape a blanket over the both of them as they took a break on the couch. Yoongi would often feel too drained to uphold a conversation during those moments, and Jungkook didn't mind; they basked in the comfortable silence their company provided them with. Yoongi would tend to fall asleep in those moments, head resting against his shoulder. Jungkook couldn't bring himself to mind and would make his late-night visits more frequent. 

"I know," his voice came out raw in tone as if the words were forced out against his will. Despite himself, Jungkook knew. He knew running was fruitless, he knew ignorance was temporary, and that he'd continue to hurt for so much longer. 

"I know, Halmoni." He repeated, voice more stern this time. A weak attempt to convince himself that perhaps if he repeated the words often enough, he could begin to believe them as well.

The sound of small clinking porcelain chimed throughout the room; Chae-wons eyes appeared downcast as she set the cup down and back onto the coffee table. "Emotional healing is a process, just like physical injuries; we have good days, where we can walk on our own, and we can have bad ones, where we are once again confined to our beds." 

I know, the words were itching to escape him. He knew, he knew how futile his attempts at suppression were, how pushing through what had happened wasn't healing him. But sometimes Jungkook just felt so cursed to be one of the only people in the god-damn world whose soulmates didn't end up together. How fortunate it was to have found them all, how much praise they had gotten for their sheer luck; the thought nearly made him snicker. Luck, yeah, he didn't have any of that.  

"Oh, my little cherub." Chae-won sighed, a pained lilt to her tone that made Jungkook gaze harden. Her hand reached out and placed itself atop one of his, her fingers wrapping around his cold hand and giving it a tight squeeze. "With everything that's been going on, the diagnosis—"

Jungkook couldn't prevent his expression from contorting, eyebrows furrowed, and expression scrunched up as he cringed at the words. Delicately chosen, all to avoid hurting him further. Nexus Entropy is a chronic disease that gradually kills the afflicted individual in stages.

Jungkook was dying; his own magic was slowly devouring him. It was a rare illness, genetic apparently, but it seemed to have skipped over both his parents and actual grandparents. To summarize, that meant that Jungkook was once again being fucked over by fate itself. 

"By shunning the world, honey, you're punishing yourself." His Halmoni finished, once again ripping Jungkook from his heavy thoughts. His mind was like a viper, his thoughts snaking around his body, piercing his soul with its venom. A fierce-like grip around his throat and heart, squeezing and seemingly choking him on his own words. 

"Jungkook, you've done so much already. You've contributed priceless information to medical research for supernaturals. For heaven's sake, m'boy!" Jungkook couldn't bring himself to meet her gaze because, at the core of his research breakthroughs, it was all accidental. Jungkook hadn't meant to necessarily cure any other disease, but his own, curing E.E disease was only a successful byproduct of his failed attempts of curing himself. He vaguely recalled the news uproar about his discovery, but Jungkook went by the pseudonym of JJK. He didn't want them to see his discoveries. 

Jungkook was a green witch, meaning that he had a knack for anything pertaining to nature. Most supernatural diseases couldn't be cured by modern human medicine; they needed to be derived from specific mystical ingredients that Jungkook had a tendency to cultivate. His powers were slowly waning from his illness; cultivation, potions, and medicine is what he chose to distract himself with. A sharp contrast to the bellicose habits of his youth. 

Chae-won got up, ignoring Jungkook's questioning gaze as she walked over to a drawer and pulled out a familiar-looking letter. It made his slack body tense, posture straightening, jaw clicking as he ground his teeth together. The red taunting wax seal makes his body cold, hands and feet tingling with wild nerves. His stomach dropped, coiling and clawing inside of him like two meerkats fighting and tussling with each other. 

"Halmoni I–"

"I found it while cleaning your room," She cut him off, giving him a look that quietly scolded him for even leaving his room in such a messy state. Jungkook had grown messy, too tired to force himself to clean. Sometimes, the reality of his situation dawned on him so harshly that he couldn't force himself to even escape the clutches of his bed. Sometimes, those days turned into weeks. Halmoni was very considerate during those times, bringing him newly delivered books before she put them onto her shelves, bringing him tea, and letting him pace himself while still providing her presence as support. Occasionally, she'd cast a spell to clean his room while he was out. She always insisted that a clear space was key to a clearer mind. 

The letter had a wax seal keeping it shut, the wax being indented with the design of a golden eagle. It was clear that Jungkook hadn't even bothered to open it because he had known that it was a letter from the Vesperium Veil University, a place he swore he'd never visit. No, Jungkook swore it all off. Studies, magic, adventures, and love. He wanted to work at his Halmoni's bookstore until he died, peacefully miserable and wallowing in his own puddle of self-pity and remorse. 

"You're hurting, honey. You're allowed to be hurting. But there's a part of you that loved magic, and I know you still do cherub. You worked so hard back then; please don't give all of that up." She pleaded, handing the letter over to Jungkook. Although only a flimsy piece of paper, it felt like the most cumbersome weight he had ever been forced to carry. The sight of that letter choked him. 

"Your hearts hurting—it's been hurting, and the wounds done to our heart take the longest to heal. Sometimes they don't heal at all," 

Jungkook didn't think he'd heal. 

"Eventually, we have to learn how to move forward. Hun, I think it's time for you to take that step." She finished, standing up and gently resting her hand on his head. She petted it, once, twice, before leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his head before leaving the living room and returning to the front of her store. 

And just like Halmoni, the sun seemed to leave with her. The noon casting the world in a golden glow made the living room look oddly tranquil. A peacefulness that sharply contrasted with his emotional turmoil. Jungkook had grieved for the past six years, had tried coming to terms with his break-up for one, accepting his diagnosis for another, and had stopped moving forward the day he left the academy. In the third year, he began pursuing his education under Kwang-sun in an attempt to cure himself. 

Glancing at the retreating sunlight, a memory of him and Jimin at fourteen flashed before him; the two had known each other since elementary. Since then, Jimin used to call that red string connecting their pinkies his lucky ribbon. Jimin had run up to him, huffing and puffing, cheeks reddening from his galloping pace as he panted before him. Nearly doubling over as he rested his hands on his knees, Jungkook had been so worried, but all his anxieties were stilled when Jimin looked up. Flashing the brightest smile, eyes scrunched together in crescents at his sheer happiness. In his hand was a letter, folded neatly with a silver wax seal. That night, Jungkook and Jimin had both gotten their acceptance letter to the Sable Spire Institute: For Young Witches. There wasn't a more prestigious and well-known wizarding academy in all of Korea. That night, they had snuck onto the rooftops to look at the stars, a woolen blanket draped over them. Jimin had held his hand and made Jungkook promise to always stick together. Jungkook did and, in return, made Jimin swear the same.

Jimin had broken his promise.

They all did.

A bitterness he usually swallowed resurfaced, his eyes refocusing on the letter in his hand. He stared at it for some time, unsure for how long exactly, but by the time he pried away the seal from the paper, the golden hour had long passed. The sky is now covered in dark maroons, purples, and a growing blue. 

Unfolding the letter, he read with a shaky breath:

"Dear JJK,

We are delighted to extend our warmest congratulations to you on behalf of the faculty and administration of Vesperium Veil University. It is with great pleasure that we offer you a place at our prestigious and exclusive magical university for the upcoming academic year…."

Jungkook's eyes skimmed over the acceptance letter half-hazardously, rushed, and partially uncaring. Accepting this invitation would fulfill his seventh ring of education and would provide him with a complete magic permit, subsequently allowing Jungkook to use magic anywhere. But most importantly, it would declare him a Master and enable him to teach. A silent ambition Jungkook would most likely carry to his grave. 

The seventh ring was held back at an establishment, but for non-magicals, it was simply referred to as an exclusive university. The Vesperium Veil was one of these esteemed locations, notorious for its brutal trials but famous witches. Anyone who managed to succeed at Vesperium Veil was bound to become a renowned witch.  

Jungkook scoffed; he never sent in an application. It must've been Kwang-Sun, too hellbent on not letting his "talents" go to waste. But perhaps if Kwang-Sun hadn't, Jungkook wouldn't have been presented with this opportunity; the thought lessened his agitation from not being consulted about this. Vesperium Veil University was famous for its achievements; it was legendary. 

And here Jungkook sat, uncertain if he even wanted to attend. But the nagging voice of his Halmoni beckoning him to move on, ringing throughout his mind on repeat. It made the decision, which would've been much clearer a week ago, uncertain. 

Standing up and promptly ignoring the sharp popping of his knees—something that visually aged him nearly a decade—he left the living room. He headed to the wooden staircase, a crooked assortment of wooden planks that creaked and sang of old age depending on where one stepped. On the second floor were three rooms, one being his bedroom, another being a storage closet, and the one closest to the stairs was Halmoni's room. Jungkook was conveniently the furthest, and it comforted him to be distant. The silence his room carried was comforting, a stillness inside that generously seemed to offer him time to think, to process.

Swinging his door open, he glanced at the cluttered mess that was his room. He had three windows, one on each side of the corner where his bed stood. Both large and tall, giving a clear view of the street before him. The last was against the ceiling, where the roof came down to reach the building's walls. The windows provided ample sunlight, which was necessary for the sheer amount of plants Jungkook had accumulated over his years of living with Chae-won. Over one of the windows was a shelf nailed to the wall, a simple wooden plank upheld by sturdy metal hooks. From the ledge, vines and ivy rained down onto the wall and nearly provided a curtain for the window. There was a bookshelf that mainly held medical books and research he had studied throughout completing the fourth, fifth, and recently sixth level of education. His desk, an abomination to any neat freak, was littered with papers, spread open books, pens, and pencils. A candle resting on an elegant candle stick, for when the old building once again lost power and Jungkook needed to resume his work, was already half melted. Wax dripping onto the wooden tabletop.  

Kicking the door closed with his heel, Jungkook threw the letter onto his desk before promptly flopping himself onto his bed. A queen-sized mattress without a frame, mostly because he couldn't be bothered to buy and build one, was pushed against a corner. Multiple blankets and pillows decorated the surface, and upon all the trouble today brought him, it was all too tempting to just sleep his complexities away. 

But he couldn't; peace wasn't necessarily something he got a taste of often. Sometimes, he entertained the idea that perhaps overthinking was his true talent. 

Perhaps it was time to come to terms with what had happened; their mission had failed, his soulmates had broken their promises, they never became a coven, and Jungkook suffered from a chronic illness that would one day kill him. In many ways, the letter in his possession felt like the last opportunity he held for tasting magic again. To indulge in the pleasures of learning, discovery, adventure, and intimate connections with other witches. He'd never have to see them again, and although his soul seemed to sob at the thought, it brought him relief.  

Glancing towards his desk, the folded letter sat like an elephant in the room. His gaze lingered before drifting upwards towards the decorated walls. Newspaper clippings were framed, along with specific certificates, that illustrated his achievements throughout the past years. Jungkook hadn't been the one to suggest or even collect evidence of his accomplishments. It was his  Halmoni's idea; the old woman was hellbent on celebrating him. 

If only he could share those same sentiments. Jungkook thought, a strange heaviness taking form inside him at the sight of the cut-out articles, once again celebrating the anonymous JJK. They branched out from small achievements like developing a more obtainable medicine for the common witching flu by substituting newt syrup with a subclass of thistle. To extend the life expectancy of someone diagnosed with Draemori Flux and his most prized achievement: providing a curing for Faerune S. Fever. A brutal disease with even more terrorizing fatalities. 

But despite the evidence of his good deeds, Jungkook couldn't bring himself to be proud. Because he knew, he knew that those discoveries weren't intentional. They were byproducts of his selfish pursuits and desperate attempts to cure himself. It hadn't ever been his intention to heal others; he came into this field because it used little to no actual magic and relied upon knowledge instead. It was something Jungkook's depleting body could still do without causing harm. When he looked at that wall, eyes lingering on the testimonies of his supposed selflessness, all he could really feel was guilt. 

Despite what has happened, losing his coven to the third level trial, Jungkook still loved life. The uncertainty of existing, not knowing when or where the next change will emerge. The raw purity of morning dew, the charming melodies of singing birds at the crack of dawn. The purity of emotion, hate, love, despair. Despite its pain, Jungkook loved living. 

He wanted to continue living.

"Hello, sweetheart. Jung-so is in his usual spot." The sweet barista—Han—mused as she set his coffee on the counter. After completing his apprenticeship, Jungkook had begrudgingly decided to take a year off. He now focuses his efforts on small jobs like helping out in the bookstore and occasional tutoring. 

Tutoring, by far, was his favorite job. Teaching kids, watching them learn, and taking in new information brought him joy. Perhaps because he had met some inspirational teachers throughout his childhood and wanted to return the same level of care he had received as a kid to the next generation. Besides, kids were cute. 

He tutored a small batch of kids, ranging from anywhere from elementary to high school. He had to silently thank his strict parents to value his grades above anything else; when showing his academic history and apprenticeship under Kwang-sun, parents seemed more than eager to accept his cheap labor. Jungkook didn't do it for the money, sometimes even offering to teach for free if the parents seemed hard on cash. After all, education shouldn't have a price. 

Jung-so was one of the kids he tutored for free; he had met his mother—Iseul—in Halmoni's bookstore trying to barter on a zoology book for her son. They exchanged more frequently when she visited and eventually she disclosed her situation. A single mother working at a twenty-four-hour convenience store to keep them afloat. When she mentioned her ten-year-old son, Jung-so, struggling in school, Jungkook offered without thinking. 

It was only supposed to be a short session until Jung-so got caught up in math, but upon seeing how eager Jung-so was to learn, it quickly became a long-term arrangement of meeting every Wednesday and Sunday to go over anything the kid needed. They met at a cafe across the street from the convenience store where his mom worked; after each tutoring session, Jungkook would walk the kid back there to ensure he got to his mother safely.  

Grabbing his coffee and the kid's hot chocolate he always ordered, he walked to the back of the cafe and greeted the usually hyper boy. Only he wasn't acting hyper today. 

No, Jung-so was a cute kid. Normally cheerful and a little hyper, unable to sit still for long and shifting his focus constantly. But today, he sat still. Head lowered and gaze focused on his restless hands that played with the hem of his school uniform. Something was clearly wrong, and it worried him deeply. 

"Hey kid, what's wrong?" He asked softly, setting his bag down and shuffling into the booth beside Jung-so. 

"The MCA came to our school today," Jung-so all but mumbled, not even bothering to reach out for the warm hot chocolate he usually leeched off the moment he set it on the table. Okay, now he was really worried. 

"What happened?" He asked worriedly, the MCA were government officials who worked for magicals, but usually, they were very friendly. It took a moment for him to realize that the MCA must've conducted the annual magical testing to see if students were part of the magical community or remained null. People presented with magic throughout elementary school, which is why during those three years the MCA came to test the students. Still, that didn't explain why Jung-so was so upset. 

"Well.. my eomma isn't magical, but it turns out I am," Jung-so mumbled, playing with a loose button on his school uniform. 

Jungkook's eyes widened, nodding dumbly as he processed the information. Of course, witches didn't necessarily need to be related to a witch to develop magic; mana could build within anyone really. But perhaps Jung-so's father could have had mana, but Jungkook didn't know. It wasn't his business to pry. 

"Ah, and you're upset over that?" He asked carefully, watching as his little question seemingly unleashed the dam of tears the little kid was trying to hold back. The sight broke his heart, Jung-so hiccuping and rubbing his eyes harshly with his sleeve out of frustration. Without sparing it a second thought, Jungkook pulled the kid into a comforting hug. Rubbing his back in soothing circles, letting the kid freely express himself as he held him. 

At first, Jung-so was just some kid he tutored, but throughout their time together, Jungkook really began seeing him more as a little brother. Someone Jungkook wanted to protect. 

When Jung-so calmed down, his eyes were a little puffy, his hair a tangled mess, and nose a little leaky. Jungkook got up, went to the cafe counter, and grabbed a few tissues before returning. Besides his gentle reassurances, he didn't say much until he was sure Jung-so had calmed down. 

"Do you want to talk about it?" He finally asks, silently hoping Jung-so would accept his offer. Jungkook, after all, was a witch himself. 

"Everything's gonna change," Jung-so admitted, sniffling. 

"It is. Magicals go through a different system than humans do." 

"I don't want things to change." 

Ah. There was the actual problem. Jungkook nodded, beginning to gently rub small circles onto Jung-so's back. 

"Change is constant. Even for humans. You won't be able to escape it either way," He began, keeping his voice light and soothing. Gentle—a little scared to make Jung-so cry again if he was honest. "But it can also bring a lot of good things; you'll get to do cool stuff now that others can't." He added, trying to cheer the kid up a little. 

He assumed that Jung-so and Iseul didn't know much about magic, mostly because he could recall how the stressed-out mom marveled at their magically self-organizing bookshelves. A sense of responsibility washed over him, feeling like it was somehow his job to gently introduce them to the upcoming changes they'd be facing. 

Still, on the pursuit of cheering Jung-so up, Jungkook focused on the hot chocolate still left untouched on the table. Focusing on the object, zeroing in, and recalling the simple levitation spell every witch learns during their first year at a magical cratered school. He makes the warm beverage begin to float, watching observantly the way the corner of Jung-so's lips curve upwards. The little boy watched with slight fascination as the cup floated around him, making him chuckle before landing back on the table. 

He ignored the dull ache that erupted within him, his core upset at the usage of magic. Technically Jungkook shouldn’t even be using it, not if he wanted to extend the little life expectancy he had left. But seeing Jung-so cheer up made the uncomfortable pressure oddly worth it, so he opted to ignore the throbbing and simply massage the sore spot over his chest instead. 

"Can I do that too?" Jung-so asks, mimicking Jungkook's earlier gaze on the cup and joyfully exaggerating his actions with displayed hands. It was Jungkook's turn to laugh at that. 

"You'll learn how to levitate objects during your first year; pretty cool, huh?" He mused, leaning in and covering his mouth with his hand as he mimicked telling Jung-so a secret. "But don't tell anyone I used magic in public, okay? I'm not exactly allowed." 

"You're not allowed to use magic in public?" 

Jungkook shakes his head, leaning back against the soft booths padding with a small but amused smile. "Well, not yet. I'm not qualified yet." He explained, trying to uphold his smile as he thought of that abysmal letter. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table as he took a sip of his coffee. It had been a week since his Halmonis had confronted him with it, and the folded paper still remained blissfully untouched on his desk. 

"Let me explain," He began, setting the cup back down. "Unlike humans, us magicals—"

"Why don't you just say witches?" Jung-so interrupts. 

Jungkook chuckles, shaking his head at the boy's impatience. "Well, magicals is an all-inclusive term. Witches are only one aspect of a much larger community." He could practically see the next question forming on the boy's lips and held up his hand to pause him. "There's all kinds of people out there that carry magic, such as demons, Dokkaebis, vampires, fairies, Selkies, sirens, and so much more. Us witches are the most like humans; the only difference is that we contain mana." 

Jungkook didn't want to overwhelm the boy, but he also wanted him to understand that he wasn't nearly as alone as Jung-so thought. A brief sound of acknowledgement and Jung-so continued on with his questioning. "What's mana?" 

Jungkook scolded the human education system for that because why didn't they at least prepare the students, even just a little? Magicals and humans were separated after elementary school, not for any segregational purposes but to fulfill more specific educational needs.

"Mana is the magic inside you; it's what witches like us harness to perform magic. Without mana, we'd be just like everyone else. The more mana, the stronger spells you can perform." Jung-so nodded, letting out another sound of acknowledgment. 

It made Jungkook hum in amusement, trying to recall his earlier point before he was derailed by the boy's question. "Ah! Yes, unlike humans, we magicals diverge from the traditional education system after elementary. This is why the MCA—Magicals Class Association—tested you. It's to make sure you get the education you need." He explained. 

Jungkook never got tested by the official governmental process; he was the son of two powerful witches and, therefore, got tested privately. He only knew about the actual happenings during the testing from Jimin, who had also found out about his new abilities during elementary. Although Jimin was much more aware of witches due to his association with Jungkook. A fact his strict witching parents were most unhappy about. 

"Instead of attending a regular high school, you'll go to one specifically for magicals and—"

"What if I don't want to go? I have friends now, and none of them tested as a witch." 

Jungkook couldn't even be mad at getting interrupted; this was a lot to take in, after all. He ruffled Jung-so's hair, chuckling softly. "You'll have three full years until you do that; I'm sure you'll find magical friends throughout that time. Even if you don't, you'll make lots there! I promise Jung-so, you won't be lonely." 

"Promise?" That timid, insecure voice once again violently tugged at Jungkook's heartstrings. He nodded quickly, pulling the kid into his arms once more. "I promise, buddy." 

"Now, let me finish before you interrupt again. I might lose my point completely if you do," He jokingly chided, pulling away and playfully nudging his pointer finger against Jung-so's arm. The kid laughed, letting him continue. 

"I want to explain this to you so you know what's going to be different in your life; uncertainty is only going to let that mind of yours go wild, and lord knows what'll happen then." He teased, rolling his eyes before continuing. Unable to hide his smile at the giggles his exaggerations earned him. 

"Magicals follow a seven-level system. From preschool to high school is a total of three levels. These are the only necessary levels you need, they are mandatory.” He explained. “If you want to pursue a human career after that, you’ll simply attend a human university. However, you won’t be allowed to use magic in public or apply for magical jobs.” He glanced at Jung-so, waiting for an approving nod that the kid was indeed—still following along. 

“However, if you want to work in the magical community things will go differently.”

“How different?” 

“After you're done with high school, you won't be attending university—" He watched Jung-so's mouth open for a question and shook his head to keep the kid quiet. "Instead, you'll get an apprenticeship with another magical. For me, that was an old, pruney but kind man who studied medicine. Apprenticeships range from three to six years; mine lasted five. A completed apprenticeship will take you to level six. The seventh is an extra level, not necessarily needed—but advised if you want to involve magic in your profession or use it outside in public." 

The thought of the letter currently sitting on his desk flashed through him, haunting him like a ghost. That was his ticket to completing his seventh level, and then he could become a teacher. He could gradually teach little kids like Jung-so about magic instead of giving them a crash course in over an hour. 

"Have you completed your seventh level, hyung?" 

I might, I have the letter, I could, but I won't. Right? 

"No, buddy, I haven't." 

Instead of redirecting the attention back to math or science, Jungkook spent his tutoring hour purely on magicals. He wanted Jung-so to be knowledgeable about his own community, and every moment he spent gushing about his own experiences made him feel more and more like an utter hypocrite. 

After having a chat with Iseul, Jungkook returned home to the bookstore. Unable to look at the letter waiting on his desk, instead hopping into his bed and trying to tune the rest of the word out. 

He wasn’t very successful. 

It took three more days of avoiding his own bedroom until he caved. Glancing at the letter, Jungkook made the rash decision of accepting. By the time he was done, an odd feeling emitted in his chest. It wasn't negative, no—it felt similar to when one would plant a seed and stare at the tilled soil expectantly. Anticipation. 

Glancing at the window as he stood, Jungkook marveled at the night-cloaked sky. Walking back downstairs to the bookstore section of their home, he pushed open the door and glanced at his Halmoni, standing a few meters away from him by the cash register. Sending off a customer with her signature smile, Jungkook waited as the man left. Silence seemed to drag between them, even as the store's usual customers wandered about. 

"So?" Her nasally voice dragged out curiously. 

"I'm moving forward, Halmoni." 

Her sigh was quivered, a look of relief washing over her wrinkled face. Shoulders sagging as she released the breath Jungkook hadn't even noticed she was holding. 

"Good. That's very good, Kookie." 

"We can salvage this," Jungkook's voice trembled, a shaky quiver to his words that hinted at the raw turmoil being erupted within him at the moment. His heart was frantic, clawing inside him—reaching, all because he was currently losing the only thing in his life that mattered. Tears pricked at his eyes, unyielding as he tried pushing them back. But the anguish inside him was rampant and wild. Because this was his nightmare, sparking such a guttural clenching as his soul coiled inside himself. 

"Speak for yourself; I'm not the one who ran off like some dog with its tail between its legs." Seokjin huffed, crossing his arms over his chest as a scowl etched its way onto his usually calm features. Eyes, usually holding such devotion, were now clouded with contempt. Seokjin's gaze was focused on Taehyung. 

The boy previously sitting hunched on the couch looks up sharply, gaze narrowed, and nose flared in barely contained anger. "Who the hell are you calling a dog?" He spat, the sheer venom in Taehyung's voice making Jungkook swallow. No, none of this was right. Taehyung only used that voice with rude people, people he brawled with, people he cussed out before vandalizing their dorm rooms. Not one of his soulmates. 

"Taehyung–" Jungkook knew what they saw wasn't real; the Deep toyed with their minds. Made them envision and hallucinate their worst fears in one another; they were angry at each other over nothing. 

"Shut it, Kookie." Jungkook's words got caught in his throat, eyes widening at the bitter tone. It was a tone so painfully familiar that its presence nearly sent him back to his childhood. A time filled with neither happy endings nor warmth. A place in his past his hyungs had promised to keep him from, to help him heal from.  

Taehyung had stood up, taking quick, forceful steps towards Seokjin. When in reach, he began jabbing his pointer finger into Seokjin's chest as he spat every word. "I'm not some snobby princeling who only validates their existence solely through mommy and daddys praise–"

"Oh please, what do you know about responsibility?" Seokjin had cut him off with a burst of cold, empty laughter from his own rebuttal. The rudeness and unfamiliarity of such actions made Jungkook cringe internally, but he wasn't sure how schooled he was in keeping his expression. No, not when what was happening felt so devastating. No, this wasn't like their previous bickering; this felt like more—this fight would have consequences. 

"Enough! Clearly more than you." Taehyung nearly barked, eyes narrowed and jaw tense as he clenched his fist so tightly it began turning a pale white. 

"Let's not kid ourselves here, Taehyung; I think we're far past the point of lying." Namjoon's oddly arrogant tone chimed in, laced with disapproval usually reserved for Namjoon's parents. 

This was getting so out of hand Jungkook needed to find a way to stop this. "Namjoon, not you too." Their leader, usually a gentle and patient staple of their soon-to-be coven. Namjoon would never talk to any of them like this, so why now? Why, why, why, why?

"Ha! Calling me a liar—that's rich coming from you, Namjoon." Taehyung was livid, it was apparent. Jungkook reached out, placing a hand on his lover's shoulder, only for Taehyung to brush him off roughly. The rejection stung; it was too familiar. 

They had been passed this.

"Oh, and what's that supposed to mean?" Namjoon's eyes narrowed, silently analyzing and challenging Taehyung to go on. To put it simply, a look like that from Namjoon was demeaning. As if you were the product of insubordination itself. 

"You know exactly what I mean, Namjoon. Whatever it takes to remain in charge, em' I, right?" Namjoon tensed, shoulders pulled back and back straightening. 

Jungkook didn't understand that reaction but didn't want to delve deeper into it. He wanted this to stop. It wasn't real; the Deep was at fault. "Lets all just calm down, take a moment to ourselves—"

"Jungkook, stop playing pacifist here." Jimin's voice cut through his desperate pleas, making Jungkook's words catch in his throat like a noose. Eyes flicker over to his childhood friend, his first love, his soulmate.

"Jimin?" The words escaped Jungkook the moment he found his voice again, although the tone he used was pained and hoarse. Jimin no longer met his gaze. No, no, no, no, no.

"Don't let this out on Jungkook, Jimin." Yoongi's baritone voice berated, and a part of Jungkook was grateful for it while another winced. Yoongi's voice sounded just as raw and uncertain as Jungkook's. 

"Oh, yeah. I should just bottle everything up until I accidentally implode on someone. Or, maybe just lock myself away all day long—" Jimin and Yoongi were complete opposites, while Jimin was open and vocal about his thoughts and feelings. Yoongi struggled; he handled his emotions differently. A way that may be different than what they'd prefer, but it was a way Yoongi felt was best. They understood this, so why was it being brought back up? 

"Fuck off." A defensive tone Jungkook hadn't heard since they'd met Yoongi. No, they were going backwards.

"Please, spare us the noble-knight facade, Yoongi; we all know who you really are." 

“And who am I, Jimin?”

"Stop–" Jungkook felt desperate, his own soul weakly tugging on the strings around his finger. Something that had always made him smile, something that he cherished more than the stars in the sky. This coven was Jungkook's world, and he was watching it go off in flames at the moment. 

"A lying, secretive, deceptive son of a—"

"Stop It!" Jungkook's voice boomed for a moment, the arguing halting. Namjoon, Seokjin, and Taehyung stilling. Jimin and Yoongi paused, and Hoseok turned his attention to Jungkook. Hoseok hadn't said a word since they came back from their debriefing. But he had a distant, calculating look in his eyes. It unsettled Jungkook to his core, acutely anxious about what was happening inside the witch's head. Why wasn't he trying to contain the situation with him?

Jungkook wanted this to stop; all of their emotions were too strung up. Another sharp tug or pull, and he was afraid they'd snap. "Stop it! Can't you hear yourselves? Fucking—stop, please. This isn't how we handle things." 

“I’m sorry, Jungkook.” Jimin's voice filled the room, sounding apologetic but strained. Stealing a glance, Jungkook can see the remorse in the boy's eyes. The way they looked so unhappily at him, it took that string of fate between them and wrapped it around his heart—tugging painfully. 

"But I can't be a part of this coven anymore, not with these people," Jimin whispered, single-handedly crushing Jungkook's heart to pieces. 

"What?" He pleaded—begged, that he had misheard. 

"I second that. You make me sick." Hoseok's voice cut through the room, and Jungkook felt tears cascading down his cheeks. This couldn't be happening, no, no, no, no. 

"No—"

"Fuck all of you, honestly. I can't believe I fell for any of this bullshit in the first place." Taehyung spat, turning around and walking towards the door. He swung it open, not sparing the rest of them a glance as he stormed out. Seemingly taking the sunshine with him, Jimin scoffed another last insult towards them before leaving, too. Jungkook's eyes darted towards the remaining members, his own lip wobbling pathetically as his mind wailed for the two to return. They could sort this out.

"This was such a mistake," Seokjin muttered, unearthing his breath. Brushing his fingers through his hair and successfully tussling up the messy strands further as he, too, walked out the door. 

Jungkook couldn't do it; he couldn't bring himself to look up at the remaining three. Not when all he'd get to see was them leaving—leaving him. 

"Please." He whispered.

Neither Namjoon, Hoseok, or Yoongi had the decency to look him in the eyes. Something Jungkook was both grateful for and hated. Because he deserved to be looked at, for them all to confront him while they left.

"Sorry, Kookie, but I can't do this anymore either. It was nice while it lasted." Yoongi sighed, hands in his pockets as his slouched figure retreated from the room and left, too. 

Namjoon and Seokjin remained silent before they, too, left. 

Seven turned to one, and one turned to none. 

The sun stopped shining that day, and his world stopped spinning. Jungkook had lost all that mattered to him in a single day. They had completed the third trial, but at what cost?

Eyes fluttering open, Jungkook slowly returned to the present. Watching the trees move past as the train moved, the tracks provided a nearly soothing thumping soundtrack. Rich green fields, occasional patches of grass that remained unattended and therefore let the blades reach impressive heights. Farmer fields, dirt patches, agriculture, fenced cows and horses. Jungkook took his time getting lost in the present beauty around him, his chin resting in the palm of his hand as he suppressed a dry chuckle. 

He was hopeless. 

He was constantly returning to the past, unable to stay, and haunting himself with the possibility provided by two simple, daunting words: What if? 

His six soulmates left, but they never really left. 

Watching the world pass by him, he gradually lets go of the Jungkook, whose nickname became Kookie, a nickname he hates nowadays, and slowly accepts that he is someone new. 

That's what all this was for, anyway, for him to move on. To hopefully complete his seventh trial and begin teaching; if he failed, then Jungkook wouldn't really have much time to do anything else regardless. The two options were oppressive in nature, but somehow, they still provided him with a strange sense of hope. 

This year would change everything, better or worse; Jungkook was ready to be himself again. Despite the past, who he lost, Jungkook wanted and will move on. 

The train halted thrice before it settled on his stop, his back cracking as he stood up. A small grunt escaped him as he rubbed his sore muscles. He preferred train rides over flying, but sitting in one spot for several hours resulted in soreness no matter what he did. Grabbing his backpack and slinging it over one shoulder, he pulled his suitcase from its resting spot above his seat before hopping off the train. Other students wandered around the station, a little chaotic as everyone tried navigating their own way through the busy crowds. 

To say he was a little overwhelmed was an understatement; tired from the trip and hungry, all he could be bothered with was a meal and a bed. 

"Mr. Jeon?" 

Perking up, Jungkook looked around before something tugged on his pants. Looking down, his eyes widened at the sight of a Siamese cat, an elegant blue bow tied around its neck like a collar. It sat before him, tail swishing irritably as it looked up at him in mild annoyance. 

Of course, how could he forget? At VVU, students were assigned familiars; guides to help them through the process of their seventh level. Glancing around, he saw that some students were greeted with all kinds of animals. Sheep, deer, and an assortment of birds, from pigeons to hawks. Others got significantly more intimidating—cooler, familiars. A tiger walked past him; a short blonde student even got a bear. 

"They gave me a cat?" 

A sharp swipe at his ankle made Jungkook drop, hissing at the painful scratch just delivered to his exposed skin.

"Ungrateful bastard, I'll have you know I'm the prettiest familiar here." The feline hissed, cold blue eyes peering up at him with a judging look. 

"I won't have myself be judged by someone who dresses like they've only ever heard of the word fashion through a dictionary. Honestly, just because something is on sale doesn't mean you should buy it." The cat's voice was high-pitched, an accent to her tone that made her sound oddly formal. As if she crowned herself royalty. 

"I should leave you here." Her voice chided, tail flicking. Somehow, Jungkook managed to feel a little small in front of the feline's scrutiny. 

"But I won't, Mr. Jeon. Now follow me," Without another word, the cat turned around and began walking off. Leaving Jungkook slightly stunned because he had just been told off by a cat, scrambling to compose himself and follow. 

"And for the love of all, straighten your posture." 

Straightening his back and lifting his chin, he followed the authoritative cat. It was amusing seeing a tiger familiar lead another student down the same gravelly path from the train station. Comparing the cat and the tiger, one would think the cat had more power. She carried herself with a natural prowess, not even sparing others a glance. 

"And before you address me as just some cat again, I'll have you know my name is Balam, and I have overseen several royal witching generations." 

Ah, so he was correct about the cat treating herself like royalty. A practiced snobbish attitude that one would usually imagine when engaging with royalty was very present in the small feline. 

"I'll be your guide throughout this year. I'll help and aid you wherever I can; however, I will not do things for you." She continued, not even glancing at him. Simply assuming the newcomer and her new witch would follow. "You'll do well to remember that." She finished, walking up to the university entrance. 

Upon handing in his acceptance, the university's familiars could choose which student they'd like to guide for the respective year. It was one part choice, and the other was instinct. It made him wonder why Balam seemed to have chosen him; by simply glancing around, there were a lot more posh looking students wandering around. People who might've been a much brighter fit for Balam, compared to him, of course. They carried themselves with the same aristocratic arrogance Balam did. 

"Of course; if I gave you my full name, we'd still be standing at the train station. The one I gave you shall suffice," she stated bluntly. Completely ignoring the slight stupor Jungkook gave in response, proving his suspicion right that the familiars sole intention throughout this year was to scold him. 

Upon entering the actual campus, Jungkook quickly realized that University was a light term; it was more of a gothic European castle. Large winding towers point to the sky, a courtyard filled with chatting and bickering students. If it weren't for the fashion and students littered with electronics, Jungkook might've assumed they had entered another time period altogether. 

There was a courtyard in front of the building, enclosed by open stone hallways leading to other parts of the building. A gravelly path began from the front gate and snared itself around the fountains in the center of the field before splitting off and leading towards the stone steps towards the—castles—main entrance. A set of large, impregnable wooden doors that led into the university. Although the architecture was imposing and a lot to take in at its naturally dark demeanor. Jungkook didn't actually find himself halted because of the building but because of the abundance of magic in the air. 

Throughout the lovingly tended to courtyard, pruning shears seemed to magically float about. Skillfully trimming, tending, and aiding the bushes, flowers, and trees throughout the space. Two students had carelessly plucked one of the white roses from the lining rose bushes and began shrieking as a subsequent pruning shear began chasing him. Water cans also seemed to be flying about, tending to the flowers diligently. 

Jungkook had nearly forgotten what it was like to be present around active magic, visible incantations, flying objects, and other notable hexes. It was refreshing, and an odd part inside himself felt oddly rejoiced at the sight. 

The inside of the university did not disappoint either, although filled with winding hallways he'd surely get lost in later. The entire space—no matter what room—felt special. Rich and purposeful. 

Jungkook hadn't even been aware his mouth sat slightly ajar until Balam’s sharp hiss, "Close your mouth before you begin to catch flies." Perhaps if he wasn't so tired or in awe of his new situation, he would've sent a snarky or sarcastic remark right back at her. 

"I'll show you to your dorm now. Considering that you are in your seventh level, you'll be sharing your space with students on the same level as yourself. You'll have a total of six students—" 

"Seven people all in one room?" 

"If you'd let me finish." She huffed irritably. 

"Sorry." 

There was an awkward pause, and Jungkook was sure that if he looked down, he'd be burnt to a crisp from Balams scolding glare. Eventually, she cleared her throat before continuing, "In total, there are seven bedrooms; you won't be sharing a bedroom with anybody, but what you will be sharing is a living room, two bathrooms and a kitchen." 

Jungkook nodded, not necessarily surprised. It was a similar living situation during his time at the academy, only that the bedrooms were meant for two people instead of one. He had been bunked with Taehyung, something Jimin and him had been devastated over when they first arrived. Of course, Jimin had grown all too fond of the idea when he realized they were soulmates. But Jungkook had remained devastated for much longer. Taehyung and him had been in constant competition with one another over Jimin's attention. Something Jimin revealed later to have been utterly amusing. 

When confronted with the front door to his dorm, he stood in front of it silently. Shifting his weight anxiously from one foot to another. He grabbed his phone, opening the camera and quickly fixing his hair to the best of his abilities. 

“Will you stop that? You’re worse than a fish out of water.” 

“Ok, ok. I’ll open it.” 

Entering his new living quarters became both nerve-wracking and exciting, leaving a mixture of giddy anxiety to settle within him. Silently, Jungkook prayed to whatever god would hear him that his new roommates for the year would like him. Balam seemed to have little regard for his own nervousness, walking past the shoe rack that seemingly already had six pairs of shoes neatly resting against the wooden storage. A neat set of pale yellow house slippers were set out for him, and Jungkook carefully took his own shoes off before slipping into the more appropriate houseware. 

"Hyung, I think that's them!" An excited voice chimed out; the nature of its tone sounded strangely familiar to Jungkook. 

"Jimin, calm down. You'll scare them off before they're even properly inside." 

Jungkook recognized that voice. 

Park Jimin 

That was Jimin-ssi getting lectured by Seokjin-ssi. 

As if being able to sense something was off, Balam sent Jungkook an inquisitive albeit concerned look. Ah, Jungkook hadn't spent much time with familiars. His Halmoni had one when she was younger; she would talk vaguely about the owl with a deep nostalgic melancholy that didn't let Jungkook question why the familiar wasn't physically summoned anymore. Familiars couldn't necessarily die; when they became close to death, their physical bodies would depart, but their spirits would continue living in the spirit realm. They only needed time until they could be summoned again. The bond between a witch and their familiar was inseparable, and it was the familiar that chose the witch. They'd form a bond, and the familiar would eventually die alongside the witch. 

It was why familiars only ever bonded to one person, and even then, it was a rare occasion. Despite that, Balam seemed rather in tune with Jungkook's current emotions, and her tail changed its pace from a gentle swaying to a rather cautious flicking. 

Spinning out from the corner, Jungkook's thoughts came to a screeching halt. His throat locked itself in place, and his body froze. Before him stood his oldest friend, the love of his life, and the creator of so many firsts. 

Jimin looked older—it had been several years, after all—now having dyed his hair a warm bleach blonde, some of his roots still hinting at the natural color of his hair. His face, as strikingly stunning as it had always been, looked back at him with pure shock. Eyes wide, flicking over his entire body rather rapidly before zeroing in on his own face. As if confirming Jungkook's very presence to himself as well.

Jimin wore a dark beige cardigan, the knitted and oversized garment looking cozy and warm. Underneath was a loose white shirt that complimented a silver necklace around his neck, leading Jungkook's eyes to Jimin's piercing. Ah, that was new. He thought, being able to recall Jimin's lingering gazes on the earring jewelry in stores. Always claiming that one day, he'd get one. 

Both of them stood frozen, eyes taking in the form of the other. Perhaps if he wasn't dealing with years worth of emotional heartbreak suddenly getting figuratively thrown at him, Jungkook would cuss himself out for only wearing a simple black hoodie and some gray sweatpants. The trip from Halmoni's bookstore to Viel was lengthy, a nearly ten-hour trip. So he had chosen comfortable instead of fashionable; he hadn't expected to meet one of them again, regardless.

But he couldn't bring himself to waste much attention on the fact, now that he was being assaulted by a past he had just come to leave behind.  

Footsteps seemed to be approaching from a distance, soft and slow, as the person seemed unaware of the silent moment transpiring between himself and Jimin. Every emotion he had refused to acknowledge for years was bubbling inside him, fighting for dominance, leaving him stunned and unable to pick one to actually go with. 

"Jimin, what did I tell you about bombarding our new roommate—"

Kim Seokjin. 

Kim fucking Seokjin stood before him now, too. 

Seokjin stood just as still as Jimin as if he was being confronted with a wild animal. Seokjin had dyed his hair as well, a brown color with a reddish warm tint to it. It was nicely styled with the part off to the side, complimenting the turquoise satin sweater he wrote that loosely shaped his upper body before being tucked into some white pants. It was simple but painfully familiar. 

The eyes of his older hyung—friend? Ex—flickered over him, but unlike Jimin, Seokjin seemed to find his voice much quicker. 

"Jungkook?" 

Again, that voice he hadn't heard in forever addressed him like a deer caught in headlights. As if he was about to make a break for it, and the thought seemed all the more tempting now than ever before. This wasn't what he came here for; the plan was to come to Veil to move on from his past, find new people, and build new relationships. They weren't supposed to be here. 

Jungkook was pulled out of his stupor by the nudging of Balam against his leg; the familiar must be tuning in with his emotions. Even if it was just surface level, Jungkook's entire being felt heavy. A glance down seemed to answer a question of hers she hadn't even asked, prompting the familiar to step in front of Jungkook and redirect the attention of the room. 

"How rude, a new guest enters, and you neither offer to take his coat nor provide some refreshments." She scolded, and oddly enough, that familiars chiding tone seemed to provide him an odd sense of comfort at the moment. He watched as both Jimin and Seokjin straightened at the scolding, unable to form words as they stammer and stumble over themselves like baby giraffes. 

It would've been an amusing sight if Jungkook didn't have a hundred-and-one things to think about at the moment. 

"Now, my witch is tired after his travels and needs to be shown to the remaining available room to be given time to recuperate and freshen up before dinner." 

Being redirected by the strict familiar once again, Jimin rushed to grab Jungkook's suitcase, and Seokjin carefully ushered him inside. He decided to ignore the lingering gazes, the hovering touches; he couldn't think about any of it. Especially not when the entrance hall led to the open-spaced living room, where the rest of his past resided. 

Yoongi had large, clunky headphones on and was nodding his head off to some music. Sitting on the floor by the coffee table, sheet music sprawled about in utter disarray, with a laptop resting on top of some of the papers, his headphones connected to the device. He had kept his hair black, slightly longer, as his bangs threatened to slightly cover his eyes. Yoongi's back leaned against Hoseok's legs, who was sitting on the couch mindlessly scrolling on his phone. He also kept his hair a natural black; however, Hoseok's hair had more of a natural wave to it. Compared to Yoongi, whose clothes resembled a dark academic style, Hoseoks seemed more light and summery. Much like his personality, Jungkook noted. 

His eyes lingered on the sight for a moment, soaking up the sheer domesticity surrounding the two. It was a sight he had taken for granted all those years ago, something that would've warmed his heart now cultivated an uncomfortable bitterness inside his chest. 

Namjoon sat not too far off, a steaming mug of what he assumed to be coffee in his hand with a book in the other. Unlike the rest, Namjoon was the only one who had dyed his hair an unnatural shade of gray. With the sunlight hitting it, making those natural highlights practically glow—his hair nearly looked silver. A warm, black sweater covered him. He sat comfortably on a cushioned windowsill, reading silently as he took occasional sips from the mug. 

It felt strangely surreal like nothing had happened to them, making Jungkook acutely angry. Another nudge against his leg had his momentary rage return to a simmer, a strangled sigh escaping him, sounding shakier than he'd have liked. 

"Jimin, have you seen my hairbrush—" Taehyung had come out from a hall down the left side of the living space. No doubt where the actual bedrooms were. 

Wide fox-like eyes met his own, widening and ironically also taking on the expression of a deer caught in headlights. Just like the rest, Taehyung's hair had been dyed as well. A medium shade of brown, complimenting his soft features despite the messy nature of his hair. He wore a mustard colored wool sweatshirt, with a white dress shirt seemingly underneath. Its white collar and sleeves folded over the sweater, and his pants were a light beige. Glancing at Jimin, Jungkook noted that both Jimin and Taehyung wore a rather light academic style of clothing. 

"Jungkook?" 

Taehyung gasped a name that seemingly grabbed the attention of all the others inside the room. He could feel their eyes on his body, practically bolting him to the ground with how much he hated this situation. None of this was supposed to happen; he wasn't ever supposed to see them again. The sound of a mug drooping pulled his attention towards the windowsill, Namjoon stood practically frozen as he had dropped his mug and stumbled onto his feet. 

Seokjin had muttered something under his breath at Namjoon, something along the lines of 'you clutz’ as he walked over, grabbing a towel from the kitchen and hurriedly beginning to dry the floor. That sheepish look on Namjoon was strikingly familiar, from the blush that dusted his cheeks to the way he rubbed his neck to relieve a phantom pain. It was too familiar; it hurt. 

"Goodness, sake! Has everyone here lost their manners?" Balam exclaimed, promptly pulling whoever was still in a daze back to reality. Hoseok stood up, grabbing Yoongi's forearm and helping him stand as well. 

"My room," Jungkook finally muttered out. Cringing internally as those were the first words he had managed to say in all of, well, this. "I'd like to settle in," he added. 

Jimin perked, clearing his throat. "Oh. Yeah, right. Follow me!" He cheered softly, ushering Jungkook down the hall and into the last room. Opening the door for him, Jimin set his luggage down by the closet. The room was nice and simple. Veil was a very rich institute, and it showed. Especially in housing, as the room was set out with a queen bed in the left corner. A bookshelf, a desk, and a closet built into the wall covered by a mirror. 

"Ah, Jungkook I—"

"Jungkook needs some time to freshen up from his travels." Balam's strict voice chimed in, effectively shutting Jimin up as the blonde halted, mouth ajar before promptly shutting it with a lowered head before closing the door. 

For the first time throughout that entire encounter, Jungkook felt himself regaining the ability to breathe. Balam hopped from the ground onto the chair and eventually to the desk, sitting down and looking at Jungkook with a prodding look. However, Jungkook couldn't bring himself to care. He walked over to his bed and sat down, a long, shaky sigh escaping him. 

The edge of the bed dipped under his weight, his head in his hands as he breathed sharply, trying to process everything that had just happened to him. 

None of this should be happening. 

He wasn't ever supposed to see them again; he was supposed to move on. What was he to do now? He couldn't possibly live with them for an entire year! Frustration seemed to catch flame inside him, flickering and growing as he sadistically delved further into his own misery because he had been improving—slowly. He had been returning to a normal rhythm and had carried himself out of the thick of his regret and anger. Only for them to be back and look at him again—stand before him. Flooding his mind and heart with all the feelings, the memories he had tried so desperately to suppress. 

It wasn't fair, it didn't feel fair—

"Mind telling me where that mind of yours is wandering off to?" Balam mused, her tone uncharacteristically sweet. Ah, he had nearly forgotten that he wasn't alone in his little spiel. Balam reminded him of a strict guardian, someone who didn't hesitate to smack their young across the back of the head after doing something idiotic, but also the type that would hug and console their pupil if they were upset with open arms.

"I—" What exactly was the best way to approach this conversation? He didn't need to tell Balam anything; she wasn’t entitled to his past. But Balam was his familiar and would continue to be throughout the duration of his year. Familiars could tune into their witches' emotions, and although his and Balam's bond was very brittle and new, the cat could still feel a small amount of what he felt. Glancing at the change of demeanor from the feline, it was enough. 

"We knew each other." He said, inhaling sharply as he tried to steady his own heartbeat. Mind searching for words, simple but capable of conveying the depth of the broken bond between the other six men in the shared complex. Silence filled the room, the only sound consisting of Jungkook's quivering breaths. Glancing at Balam, those icy blue eyes stared back at him quizzically, silently telling him to continue. 

"Soulmates—we, we were soulmates." 

"Were?"

Soulmates. A word that has haunted Jungkook throughout his entire life. From childhood, he didn't make much of the term nor the red string around his pinky; it had been Jimin who sparked his own anticipation for the others they were connected to. It was Jimin's senseless rambling about true love, princes and trolls, love at first sight, and happy endings. Jungkook had always just been content with Jimin by his side; having that red string connecting them was all he really needed or wanted. But it wasn't just Jimin's fault; the media romanticized the living hell out of soulmates. Through songs, literature, art, dance, cinematography, photography, the list was endless. And everyone had fallen for it. 

Including Jungkook. 

Pinpointing any specific emotion inside Jungkook at the moment would be like trying to shoot for a bullseye with a blindfold on. Like a circus of wild raging monkeys, his feelings switched between hate, hurt, conflict, anxiety, and so much more he couldn't put a name on. 

He slowly pulled his face out of his hands, the weight of the world suddenly feeling like too much on his shoulders. Pressing onto his chest, misting his eyes, and with choked words, he muttered a simple response.

"Yeah, were."

Balam didn't ask for more, eyes narrowing incrementally as she took in the implication and meaning of those words. It was clear that without asking for much more, that Jungkook hadn't expected nor necessarily wanted to see those other witches. Fortunately, Balam wasn't their familiar and, therefore, had no obligation to the other witches or their feelings. Her main focus would remain on her witch. 

"I see," She muttered, prompting Jungkook's eyebrows to knit together in slight confusion. 

He wasn't sure what the familiars next steps would be, how Balam would try and approach this situation. He already hated this enough as it was that he had to be vulnerable so quickly in front of his otherwise strict familiar. That all too familiar embarrassment washed over him, prompting him to wipe away any rebellious tears from his eyes and straighten up. He didn't meet her gaze, a slight fear that those eyes might have turned patronizing throughout his little display of weakness. 

"Well, wallowing won't do us any good." She stated, tone softer but returning to its regular sternness. Jungkook nodded meekly, lifting his head to try and glance at the cat's general direction. She seemed to have waited, staying silent until Jungkook finally decided to meet her waiting gaze.

"In moments like these, it is easier to take one step at a time. Looking at the bigger picture will get us lost in its details; it is an invitation to become overwhelmed." She explained, hopping off the table with a nonchalance usually associated with cats. "So, let us take our steps slowly." 

Again, Jungkook found himself nodding. Watching as his familiar stopped beside his suitcase, sitting down beside it before glancing at him again. "You have traveled far today; I suggest you go take a shower. I will go and arrange for your dinner to be brought to your room in the meantime; I think it is best you fully collect yourself before facing any of your roommates again."

"So, three steps in total. Freshen up, eat, and rest. Tomorrow will be another day; we shall figure out how to proceed then." She hummed. 

Jungkook nodded a final time, finding those short instructions manageable. He got up slowly, going to his suitcase and opening it carelessly. It would have prompted a scolding from Balam, but she remains oddly quiet at the moment. He grabbed some clothes, simple but comfortable, grabbing his toiletries afterward. Taking a deep breath and bracing himself, he felt Balam brush against his leg silently before opening the door. The hall and living room were deathly quiet; one could hear a pin drop, and it gave him the impression that he wasn't the only one holding his breath at the moment. Balam was familiar with the dorm layout, so she guided him to one of the two bathrooms. 

The first thought of sharing two bathrooms between seven men unnerved Jungkook about the potential mess he’d find inside, despite this being only the first week of everyone moving in and settling. He had met his fair share of messy people, but upon opening the door, Jungkook found a very tidy space. Three baskets were laid out on a shelf, and two seemed filled while one remained empty. 

"We decided to split the bathrooms between us hyungs and the maknaes." Yoongi's calm tone explained, and Jungkook's shoulder instinctively tensed. The voice was painful; it caused an ache inside himself that Jungkook had thought was healed, or at most scabbed over—but hearing Yoongi's voice made it feel raw. Turning around, he took in Yoongi's figure, leaning against the bathroom door frame, arms crossed over his chest. His expression seemed twisted, eyes holding a look he couldn't quite place. 

"Okay," was all Jungkook was really able to say at the moment. A part of him wished he could fake some more nonchalance like he didn't care, but he did, and he couldn't force his voice to sound dull in front of one of the men he had loved. Yoongi shifted, clearly uncertain how to continue the conversation, and Jungkook silently prayed he'd just walk away.

 "Will you be coming to dinner?" Yoongi asked.

"No."

Before Yoongi opened his mouth, Balam let out a small hiss, "The boy wants to freshen up now." She stated, ushering Yoongi away from the bathroom and letting Jungkook lock it. He exhaled a breath he hadn't noticed he had been holding, trying to forget those familiar eyes peering through him. His mind threatened to run off again, and the previous instructions from Balam pulled him back in. Three steps: Shower, eat, sleep. He could do that. 

“how’s the writing going?” i’m glad you asked! my room has never been cleaner and i’ve decided to take up baking