The rain felt nice, to be honest. If I weren’t on my way to have what was probably going to be a pretty unpleasant encounter, I might have been pretty content as I circled the compound, searching for Namjoon. I had been hoping he was just sitting on the bench along the back wall, but there would be no such luck. Shaking my damp hair out of my face, I shuffled towards one of the fence gates, shoving my way through and onto the dirt path. Well, it was a dirt path, but under the heavy rain it was slowly evolving into a shallow mud river. Gingerly, I skipped out of the path and onto the spongey natural earth. I very suddenly realized that I had no idea where Namjoon had gone. I shielded my eyes from the water as I looked around in futile hope that an answer would come to me. With a heavy sigh, I began to walk, thinking as I went. There was pretty much no reason for him to go towards the MedLab, so I turned to head through the foliage in the general direction of the supply depot.

I trudged through the damp undergrowth, the trees shading me from the direct rainfall. Peering through the endless trunks and branches, I felt a bit silly. “Namjoon!” I shouted at the top of my lungs, hoping maybe he was close enough to hear me over the sound of the pouring rain. I repeated the process as if I were looking for a lost dog, walking a few paces and shouting every now and then. With a deep breath, I pressed onward, sure I would find the depot soon enough. “NAMJOON!” I finally yelled as loud as I could, turning in place. I was getting tired as I paused to lean forward, breathing heavily.

“Damn, you just don’t give up, do you?” a voice finally came to me from my left. Ducking slightly, I searched through the trees, trying to spot a glimpse of Namjoon. “Over here, Zoey,” he called again, his voice already full of defeat, and I followed his voice deeper into the woods. I finally came to the base of a little hill, the trees thinning as it inclined. Glancing up, I saw Namjoon seated up near the crest of the hill, getting absolutely pounded by the rain. Clumsily, I began to scramble up the hillside, the fallen leaves and grass slick with water. When I collapsed next to him with a sigh, he wouldn’t look at me as he spoke, “You found me.”

I looked up at him, his face surprisingly calm. His eyes, however, were red and swollen. He wouldn’t look at me directly, opting instead to look out into the distance. His normally stylish partially-shaved hair looked rather silly soaking wet as it lay plastered along his head. “How long did you know I was looking for you?” I finally asked with a huff, desperate to break the silence.

He finally glanced at me, his dexterous eyebrows pitched upwards over his puffy eyes, “I’m pretty sure the whole encampment heard you once you started yelling.” Finally, a tiny smile broke out on his wide face, the shadows of his shallow dimples just barely visible in what little light filtered through the rain.

Letting out an exaggerated moan, I let myself lie on my back, “And you just let me wander around?”

“I thought you would give up!” he protested in a grumble, drawing his long legs to his chest, hugging his knees with his arms. He shook his head quickly, sending droplets of water scattering from his hair. A rather futile gesture- the rain hadn’t let up, soaking both of us through. I had already accepted the fact that I was likely to be sick again tomorrow. “Did Yoongi send you?” he asked, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye.

“No,” I admitted, shielding my face with my arm, “He actually wanted to stop me.”

“But you came anyway?”

I sat up to look at him properly, “You’re surprised?” I asked, genuinely a bit shocked that he would have expected otherwise. When he shrugged weakly, I laughed once, “You should know better. Plus I’m too curious not to. What’s going on with you, Namjoon?” I pressed, figuring I could minimize our time in the rain if I got straight to the point.

Namjoon looked away from me again, “Why can’t they just be happy for me?” he started, the pain in his voice was heartbreaking. “I knew they wouldn’t take it well, but,” he trailed off, pausing before he turned his face to look at me properly, his dark eyes squinted slightly as his face drew into a grimace, “What did Jin mean?”

I took a long moment to think of the best way to approach this. There was no way he was this oblivious. “Namjoon, why were you so sure they would take it poorly?” I needed to lead him there, like a small child with a trail of candy. This was a discovery he needed to make himself.

He stared me down for a moment, processing my question. His eyes narrowed ever so slightly, “A few reasons,” he began, confident in his words, “Everyone hates the government, and the rest of members feel betrayed when I cooperate with them. That, and no one wants to be separated. We’ve already lost Jimin,” he shook his head slightly. Once again I bit back my words. Interrupting him to tell him that Jimin was alive, well, and nearby was probably not a good plan if I wanted him to keep talking about his own feelings. He continued to speak, “I’ve been their leader for years, and abandoning them for a normal life is pretty selfish.”

So apparently that question was too easy. I wracked my brain to figure out how to steer the conversation where I wanted. “You seemed pretty reluctant to talk about the whole wife thing,” I offered, hoping he would take the bait.

“Of course!” he sounded exasperated, “It’s embarrassing to admit that I want that,” his voice grew quiet. Thankfully, the rain began to subside, though with the passage of time and accumulation of clouds, it was getting rather dark.

As the downpour ended, I squeezed out the water from my hair, continuing to speak, “You’d be happy with a government-issued wife?” I found the idea to be rather risky and horrifying. “What if you hate each other or something?”

Namjoon peered at me briefly, “It’s possible,” he agreed, “but if there’s even a chance of,” he cut himself off, pausing to rub his face rather roughly, groaning in frustration. “Look,” he shifted his body to face me better, “I’m really sorry about what I said before about you, but I am jealous of Jungkook.” I opened my mouth to respond, but he cut me off, “Don’t get the wrong idea, Zoey, I’m not into you… like that, but if Jungkook had put in even a shred of effort, you two would probably have something resembling a real relationship right now.”

His stipulation silenced me for a few seconds. “You’re probably right,” I finally admitted. Jungkook was insanely attractive and was clearly a passionate individual who was nearly as snarky as I was when he wasn’t busy brooding. If he hadn’t come out the gate so aggressive and angry, I might have wanted something more with him. While Namjoon’s particular comment about me in his argument with Jungkook had been wildly inappropriate, I was mostly concerned about what it had done to Jin. “Namjoon,” I spoke up again, “tell me about Jin.”

“Huh?” he questioned, his eyebrows creasing together, clearly blindsided by my apparent change of subject, “I know you two aren’t exactly close, but what do you want to know that you don’t already?”

I rolled my eyes, mostly to myself, “I don’t want his biography, Namjoon. Tell me about the both of you.” When he seemed slightly lost, I pressed, “Hobie told me about how before all this you two were a lot… closer.” I emphasized the last word, hoping to clue him in to what I was talking about.

“Ah,” he spoke gently and deliberately, his animated features accentuating his reluctance as he caught on. “Jin and I have always been a team,” he started slow, choosing his words carefully. “In Korean culture, the oldest is supposed to be the leader, but our company picked me anyway for different reasons. Jin was so great about it,” his voice faded some as he began to soften, remembering the past as he looked past me for a moment. “He was still a leader in a different kind of way- ensuring everyone was always taken care of and fed, and all that. When we were all performing together,” he spoke even slower, finally turning to look at me again, “the fans always loved when any of us were extra touchy with each other. Jin and I were so comfortable with each other, it was sort of natural, I guess.”

My heart sunk into my stomach just thinking about the implications of that last statement. “So it was all fan service?” I finally managed to ask, surprised at the sadness in my own voice.

“Yeah,” he replied quickly, his face twisting into a quizzical expression, his eyes searching my face. Suddenly his brows knit together, “No,” he corrected himself, “I mean,” he sighed, looking away from me, “Sometimes? I don’t know. I never really had to think too hard about it.” I could see the wheels starting to turn in his mind. A glimmer of hope. “One The Reclamation happened, things stayed the way they were for a while, but it just wasn’t really necessary,” he began to speak again, but there was something in his voice that I couldn’t quite pla