It was a MedLab day, and I had a shadow. Yoongi was trudging along behind me on the usual dirt road, grumpy because he had been woken up early by Namjoon to accompany me to the doctor to get his sutures checked and cleaned. When we had first left the compound, I had tried to make conversation, but Yoongi’s most eloquent response was a series of grunts, so I let it go. I knew he wasn’t exactly a morning person, and he had stayed up later than usual the night before so that he could check up on me for whatever reason. So instead of chatting, we just walked in silence. Every now and then, I glanced over my shoulder to see if he was still following me. Each time, he was exactly the same, slightly hunched over, dragging his feet through the dirt, eyes downcast. It was an overcast, cold morning, the dark and heavy clouds the harbingers of another impending storm. I didn’t mention the weather to Yoongi, I had tried that already. Instead, I just kept moving, anxious to get out of the chilly air and into the MedLab.

Finally, after the long walk, we arrived at our destination. I paused at the landing of the building, turning my torso to watch Yoongi take each step as if his legs weighed hundreds of pounds each. “Need some help there, Yoongi?” I teased as I leaned against the MedLab front door, crossing my arms over my chest. He simply glared up at me, giving me a little frown and a grunt in response as he hauled himself up over the final step. Once he was clear of the steps, I stepped aside, opening the door for the both of us. We squeezed through together, stumbling into the warm, familiar lobby.

“Yoo Seoyeon!” I heard a voice call to me from nearby. Bewildered, I turned to find the source, and my confusion only grew when my eyes met those of the receptionist- the guy who had been nothing but cold and rude to me every time I came to visit.

Yoongi was at my side with just a step. He leaned a bit to me, speaking for me for the first time that day, “It’s still weird whenever I hear someone call you that,” he murmured quietly, his voice still managing to sound groggy.

I repressed my smile, giving him a little nudge to get him away from me as I strode towards the front desk, warily eyeing the young man behind the desk. “Yes?” I queried carefully.

“Oh, it’s just,” he stammered slightly, the man clearly startled that I approached. “I’ll page Dr. Lee for you,” he managed to finally blurt out before scurrying away into the small office behind the counter.

“But,” I tried to call after him, but I was cut off by the sound of the door closing. “My friend here,” I continued to myself with a little sigh. It looked like Yoongi was going to be totally ignored.

When I turned around, Yoongi looked just as confused as I did. “Is he always like that when you’re around?” he asked skeptically, craning his neck to peer through the little window in the door. “Whenever I have to come here, that dude just glares at me,” he murmured, his mouth pulling down into a little frown.

I couldn’t help but laugh dryly, “No, this is a first,” I mused. Turning around, I glanced down the hallway to find my usual room with its door wide open. Reluctantly I took a long breath, “I guess I’d better,” I started vaguely, pointing awkwardly down the hall while I looked apologetically at Yoongi.

“Oh, right,” he responded hesitantly. “I guess I’ll wait for you,” he murmured as he turned away from me to sit in one of the little plastic chairs along the wall nearby.

“I’ll probably have to wait for you,” I chuckled nervously to myself, hating every agonizingly awkward moment. It was like when I would walk down the hall of my high school and see someone I knew from across the way. It was always so uncomfortable to know when to greet them and when to properly say goodbye. “I mean,” I spoke again for some reason, “since you haven’t been seen yet. You know what? I’m going to go,” I rushed as I swiveled on my heel to head down the hallway, practically skidding into my usual room, oddly comforted by the turquoise examination chair. I could hear Yoongi’s stifled laughter from the lobby.

It was only a minute or so before Dr. Lee showed up in the doorway, just as I was tying my pale blue medical gown on, but he was alone. "Well look who's moving up in the world!" he greeted, his voice cheerful and excited, causing his already wrinkled face to scrunch into a happy ripple of creases. The tall, older man shuffled through, closing the door behind him before setting my folder and an additional stack of papers on the counter beside me.

His words confused me, though. “What do you mean moving up in the world?” I questioned before looking back over my shoulder at the closed door, “And where’s mute boy?” Jimin’s absence caused a twinge of anxiety course down my spine. And then I remembered. Yoongi was still in the lobby.

“He’ll be around shortly,” Dr. Lee sang quickly as be bustled about. He casually handed me a section of newspaper before moving to recline my chair for me. I scrambled to steady the paper in my hands, the reading distracting me from the cold, uncomfortable stirrups Dr. Lee was fitting to my feet. And believe me, it was certainly distracting.

Meet Korea’s Princess

After two years of mourning the loss of our dear leader’s precious Kim Juae, Kim Jongun and Ri Solju have announced their plans for royal and holy succession. Meticulous screening and careful consideration were used to determine the new lineage for the royal bloodline. Jeon Jungkook, the Golden Boy of the South, was pronounced as the paternal candidate, and we are pleased to announce a match has finally been properly made. Yoo Seoyeon, an orphan rescued from the United States, has been found to be a near perfect genetic match, capable of producing exceptional offspring for our dear leader.

Blow the little quarter page article was a picture of my face. I didn’t recall posing for a picture, but by the looks of it, there was a camera in Chairman Rho’s office somewhere that managed to take a decent quality still image. “Can I keep this?” I finally managed to speak, glancing down at Dr. Lee, who already had instruments prodding at my nether region, taking samples.

“Of course, of course,” he replied dismissively, clearly absorbed in his work rather than whatever I was talking about.

I scanned the page again, reading the little inconsequential paragraph over and over again. “Wait,” I murmured, “Who are Kim Juae and Ri Solju?”

That question got his attention, and I saw the old man’s surprise face pop up over the hem of my gown. “What?” he asked, his eyes clearly skeptical. “Do you really not know?” When I shook my head slowly, his face brightened, as if he were ecstatic for the opportunity to enlighten me. He had finished taking his samples, it seemed, as he quickly set his instruments and vials on the mobile tray nearby. After releasing my feet from their holsters, he rolled his chair around to my side. “Sorry I have to take blood today,” he explained quickly before prepping the crook of my elbow. I hated getting my blood drawn, so I instinctively tilted my head back to look up at the tiled ceiling. As he was tying the rubber tourniquet, he began to speak again. “Ri Solju is our dear leader’s lovely wife. And- squeeze your hand please- Kim Juae was their daughter.”

“Daughter?” I instinctively looked over at the doctor, but the timing was horrible as blood began to fill the clear glass tube, causing my stomach to lurch and my head to pound. I took a sharp intake of break as I turned my head away before squeaking, “I thought Kim Jongun was sterile.”

I heard the doctor sigh sadly, “He is now, unfortunately.” He paused to pull the tourniquet off with a satisfying snap, so I felt safe to look as he put gentle pressure on the spot the needle had been with a little square of gauze. “The entire family was struck with some kind of pesticide poisoning from imported produce flown in from China. It took young Kim Juae’s life and rendered both parents infertile, among other organ failures. They’re both fine now, but it’s taken these two years for them to end their state of mourning.” Rolling away, he pulled off his gloves and placed the swab samples and blood vial in a little bag. With another sigh, he turned to me with a strained, reluctant little smile, “So now they’re looking to you to continue the line.” I felt some bit of comfort at his pit