“Now we do the pinkie promise,” he says, holding up his finger. I look at him.

“Aren’t we too old for that?” I ask. We’re… fourteen.

“Still. Do it.”

I hold my finger up, mirroring his posture. His finger wraps around mine, and for some reason I’m caught with the feeling that some kind of magic is binding us, starting from our intertwined fingers.

“Promise.” He looks at me.

“Yeah.” I look back at him. His eyes are familiar. I’ve known him for too long. “Promise.”

-

“He’s still there?” I say to Jimin as we sit by the windows. The only people in this room are Namjoon and I. And, uh, I guess Jimin counts as well. Point is, no one’s going to question who I’m talking to. Namjoon has not talked much to us since he greeted us with a short, courteous ‘hi’ when we entered but I can feel his gaze is fixed on our backs… I mean, my back facing him. I must look weird, talking to nothing. But at least he knows who I’m talking to.

“Yeah. Maybe we should go talk to him a bit more...” Jimin stares at the firefighter ghost through the window, still sitting on the bus stop bench across the street. In the darkness, car headlights occasionally illuminate the space he occupies. “We’re the only ones that can keep him company, anyway.”

“I wonder how I never noticed him.” He had said he’s been there for a month at most.

“You never look around when you walk down the street, so I’m not surprised.” Jimin grins. I contemplate whether I should be offended about his statement or not, but I know Namjoon is watching from behind and I don’t want him to think that I am not on good terms with his dead friend. So I leave Jimin to have the time of his life making fun of me without repercussions—oh, bad word choice.

“Maybe we should talk to him later,” I say, surprising myself. Setting up plans to socialize with another ghost? I guess that’s what I’ve become.

Where’d that sworn to ignore policy go?

Hey, though, I think to myself. It’s only two ghosts I’ve been okay with. Out of… how many? Too many to keep track.

“I wonder how that feels,” Jimin says.

“What, dying?” I raise my eyebrows with the best kind of sarcasm that I can convey.

“Yes, absolutely. Because I have no experience in that field.” Jimin glares—jokingly, I guess. “I meant dying when you’re like, married.”

“How’s that different from dying when you’re single?” I ask it as a sincere question. How would I know? I’ve never died.

“I dunno, don’t you promise you’ll grow old together in marriage vows or something?”

“I guess. Until our black hair turns white, that’s what they always say,” I say, staring at the firefighter. “But all deaths make someone sad.”

Jimin doesn’t say anything to this, so I turn my head to check how he’s doing. He’s still looking out the window.

“You made people sad,” I say in a matter-of-fact-tone, even though the only acquaintance of his I’ve ever known is Namjoon.

“I guess.” He shrugs.

“Weren’t your parents… sad as well?” There’s a saying I’ve heard many times since I was a little kid; when your parent dies, you bury them in the ground. When your child dies, you bury them in your heart.

“Oh.” Jimin stops, appearing as if he’s caught up in thoughts. I wonder if I shouldn’t have asked.

He continues speaking after a brief pause, though. “I guess.”

“Do you...want to go talk to them?” I ask.

“No.”

His answer surprises me. “Wait, why not?”

I had been expecting for him to say yes. Or a thank you for offering. But an absolute, definite no?

“They’ll be fine.” Maybe it’s my imagination, but the three words sound empty.

“But even if you don’t want to talk, you can still go see them if you tell me where you used to live.” I wonder what kind of parents Jimin must have had, how they would have reacted to hearing about their son’s death in a car accident. Whatever they’re like, it seems as though Jimin would rather not see them.

“It’s okay. I’m just here to see these guys. Then I’ll leave. The deal, remember?” Jimin turns around to look at Namjoon when he says ‘these guys’.

I don’t know what to say. So as always, I don’t ask further.

“Oh, wow,” Jimin suddenly says as he returns his gaze out the window. I see two men crossing the street. I can’t help but notice that the guy on the left is exceptionally good-looking, even prettier than the idols and actors on TV. The guy next to him is beaming brightly as he says something to the other. I notice a slight limp in the happy guy’s step as he walks.

Even before Jimin says anything, I can feel that these are the two friends that were supposed to come today. I look at him next to me, and his hands are clutched together as if he’s praying. He presses his lips together.

“Nervous?” I whisper.

Jimin nods.

“It’s okay, they won’t even know you’re here.” I tap the table near where his hands sit, as I can’t give him an encouraging shoulder pat or anything. I turn around in my stool to look at Namjoon. I’m not sure if I can say it’s funny, but Namjoon also has his hands clutched together. He hasn’t said anything since I came in the convenience store.

“You okay?” I ask, and Namjoon nods.

Again, obviously not okay.

“Are those people your friends?” I point out the window, meaning to gesture at the two men crossing the street, but the red light of the streetlight is already on and the men have disappeared. I pause, wondering what happened, then…

Out of nowhere, before I can brace myself for it, the two men enter the convenience store and trigger the jolly jingle of the door chime.

“Kim Namjoon!” The happy dude almost runs into the store, and as soon as he finds the face of his friend, he excitedly yells. The good-looking friend of his doesn’t have the same energy but still waves his hand to Namjoon pleasantly.

“Hi,” Namjoon says shortly after glancing in my direction. More like Jimin’s general direction. I glance at Jimin, checking up on how he’s dealing with the encounter of more of his friends.

He looks emotionless and calm, again, surprising me. I’ve learned he’s quick to change between an easily excitable kid and a plain machine.

I still don’t really know who he is, even after more than a week of being next to him 24/7.

“You idiot!” the happy man yells, but not in a menacing way. “Were you happy, huh? Cancelling on all of us the whole time?”

“...I’m sorry,” Namjoon says, looking away.

“And now you want to talk.” I can only see the back of the happy man, but from his voice tone I can feel he’s somewhere between annoyed and excited. Namjoon looks up at his standing friend, eyebrows raised. Something about his eyes remind me of the rabbits in my preschool whenever the kids tried to poke them with twigs.

“So, what’s with the change of heart?” the happy man asks.

“It’s been a while, that’s all,” Namjoon replies. “Thanks for coming, Hoseok.”

So I learn the happy man’s name. That means that the other dude must be either Seokjin or Yoongi. I’ll guess Seokjin for now, as Yoongi was the person that Namjoon was least certain about whether he would show up or not.

But really, he’s good-looking.

“Idiot,” Hoseok mutters once more for effect. He turns, looking around the convenience store, and I see his face. He’s grinning. He meets eyes with me for just a second (of course not realizing that dead Jimin is sitting right next to me), twirls around, and whispers something into Namjoon’s ear.

Namjoon looks at me. “Oh, don’t worry. She’s my cousin.”

A bit of explanation on why I would be present in any future meetings of these people. Easier than hey, she can see ghosts and it just so happens the ghost of Jimin is with her right now!

Hoseok tilts his head as he peers at me. “You guys don’t really look alike. I mean, look how cute your cousin is! But what’s up with you?”

Namjoon wrinkles his nose, but I see a hint of smile on his face. “Please.”

“Second… cousin,” I add. Just for good measure. The guy that I’m assuming is Seokjin is also looking at me. It makes me a bit uneasy.

“Oh, I see.” Hoseok shrugs it off like it’s no big deal. I let out an internal sigh of relief. Namjoon must be doing the same.

“So, how’s the antisocial hermit life been?” Hoseok asks. I notice Namjoon’s having a hard time maintaining eye contact with these people.

“Not too bad.”

“Look at Seokjin, though!” Hoseok nods at the good-looking dude, proving my assumptions true. He is Seokjin. I wonder where the Yoongi guy is now, then. Is he coming? “Fresh and good-looking as ever!” Hoseok slaps Seokjin’s back playfully, but Seokjin still looks pretty stiff.

“Don’t you want a stool?” Seokjin says to Hoseok, pointing at some stools around me. I put my hand on the stool that Jimin is sitting on, slightly afraid that they’ll drag it away while Jimin is sitting on it. The memory of Namjoon yanking Jimin’s chair out from behind him without knowing is fresh in my mind. “You shouldn’t be standing up for too long.”

“It’s okay.” Hoseok waves his hand in dismissal, but Seokjin comes near me, thankfully grabbing a stool that Jimin wasn’t sitting on and drags it back for Hoseok to sit. Hoseok doesn’t refuse the second time, and happily sits down.

“You should take a seat too.” Namjoon gestures at the other stools.

Seokjin shakes his head. “It’s fine, I can stand.”

“I don’t want you standing here the whole time, either. I’m sitting, Hoseok’s sitting…”

“It’s really fine.” That’s a definite refusal. I don’t miss Namjoon’s face blushing a bit. The atmosphere is incredibly awkward—I wonder what happened between Namjoon and these two. Has he not talked to either of them since the accident? Why?

“Uh… anyway, Namjoon.” Hoseok grins. “How’s it with that girl?”

“Girl? What girl?” Namjoon replies too quickly for someone who didn’t understand the question.

“You know, that girl you were trying to ask out?” I look at Jimin at Hoseok’s question, and I see him grinning as well. Wow, new things I learn about my cousin—I mean, second cousin.

“Oh, that’s old news.” Namjoon’s definitely red.

“Kim Namjoon, were you always this kind of man? To give up on love so easily?”

“She has a boyfriend now, Jung Hoseok. It’s time to give up.” Namjoon rubs his face with his hands.

I take out my phone and type quickly with my thumbs. whats this unexpected romance angst

Jimin sounds too amused for someone talking about his friend’s failure of a love life. “He really liked this girl for like, what, a year? Every time we went out to drink he’d rant about it. He’d keep asking me, like, ‘why doesn’t she like me? Why does she always say “thank you, you’re such a good FRIEND”, I don’t want to be a good friend’…”

Another awkward silence has fallen over the trio. “Wow,” is all Seokjin adds to it.

“Oh, what? But I thought she started liking you.” Hoseok’s voice tone is a bit less excited now.

“I guess. Maybe,” Namjoon says.

“So what happened?” Hoseok continues asking insistently. “I thought you guys went on a date.”

“It wasn’t a date, we just went out to the movies once.”

“That’s a date, you were so excited over it!” Hoseok snaps.

“And she might have asked to meet again afterwards…” Namjoon trails off.

“What?” Hoseok’s voice is raised. “Then how’s she with another guy now?”

“I… might not have gone.” Namjoon’s completely red now.

“Kim Namjoon, you idiot!” Hoseok reaches across the counter, grabs his friend’s shoulders and shakes him as if he’s trying to shake the stupidity out of his friend. “Don’t tell me you cancelled on your crush asking you out for a second date.”

“Sounds like that’s exactly what he did.” Seokjin’s chuckling, the awkwardness melting away.

I glance at Jimin, who’s bent forward with his elbows propped against his knees, head resting on his hands. He’s smiling. The tension in my shoulders I didn’t know was there lessens a bit. This reunion is going pretty well, I guess, even though Jimin’s friends don’t know Jimin is here in ghost form. I wonder when I’m supposed to tell them. Or if I’m even supposed to tell them at all.

For some reason, what Bang Yongguk the firefighter said keeps echoing in my mind. Don’t tell her I’m here. I’m dead, she’s alive.

“You… look better,” Namjoon says to Seokjin. Probably a weak attempt to change the topic. “Than I remember.”

“Well, you saw me in my worst state, so...” Seokjin still sounds a bit stiff, his voice holding no hints of laughter anymore.

“I…I left some fruit. And a card. With your mom. Did you see?” Namjoon stutters.

“Yeah.” Seokjin sounds a bit bitter. Maybe it’s just my imagination acting up again.

“So is it all… all okay?” Namjoon sounds like a seven-year-old who got in trouble. Without saying anything, Seokjin s his shirt sleeves and rolls them up. I can’t help but frown as I see the nasty scars on his arms. Burn scars?

Namjoon stares wordlessly. Seokjin rolls down his sleeves and buttons the shirt back.

“Other than that, yes. At least my face is fine. Oh, but there’s one here.” I watch Seokjin’s fingers touch his chin, and I can see a piece of deformed skin beneath. “It’s fine. Makeup can mostly cover it.”

Makeup? For a guy? What for?

“I’m… I’m sorry.” Namjoon’s looking down at the floor. “You were supposed to audition for that...that play thing. And then…that happened...and you were in hospital…”

“It’s okay,” Seokjin says. It’s the kind of okay that Namjoon always says. Okay when it’s not okay. “There’s a new audition coming soon. I signed up.”

Audition, I wonder, then I realize. A guy that good-looking is bound to have a career in the entertainment field here in Korea.

“Oh, that’s…that’s nice.”

“Nice?” Hoseok’s voice is way louder than the other two guys. “Yeah, sure it’s nice, except that he won’t stop saying his lines over and over. Heck, I could audition for Kang Minchul and get the role at this point!”

“You should.” Seokjin’s grinning now. “I need a backstage buddy.”

“I would, but I’d rather enjoy laughing at you in the audience for being so cheesy with the girl—what’s her name, Min Seolhee?”

“Wow, you even remember her name.” Seokjin raises his eyebrows.

“Yeah, because mister Kang Minchul won’t shut up about her. Ah, Seolhee this, Seolhee that, Min Seolhee, come back here right now and kiss me…”

“Hey, at no point in the play does Minchul ever say that.”

“Oh, sorry, let me correct myself. Minchul actually says, and I quote, ‘Kiss me now, if you dare’. Am I wrong?”

The look on Namjoon’s face right now can only be described as horror, and I can’t help but laugh silently at it.

Seokjin sighs. “I’m not the one saying it. It’s Minchul. He doesn’t get that kiss anyway. He gets a slap. A real one.”

“It’s coming out of your mouth.” Hoseok beams at Seokjin. “How are you not the one saying it?”

The bickering continues, but I’m relieved that the atmosphere has faded from awkward to one of comfortable familiarity. I’ve never met these two men in my life, but just being around the three as they go back and forth with ribbing each other makes me feel as though I’ve known them for a long time. My gaze wanders to the window again at some point and I see the firefighter’s ghost has left the bus stop. I guess his wife went home. I wonder where he goes after his wife departs. He has a limited area of where he can reside. Where else could he go? What else would he do? How could he stay a full month without anything else to do?

I’m again surprised at myself for being genuinely curious about a ghost.

Then I spot another man, waiting in front of the streetlight. He checks his watch.

“Hey,” I whisper under my breath so that only Jimin can hear. Jimin turns around to face the window. I tap the window, asking a silent question. Is that your other friend? Yoongi?

“Oh, Min Yoongi,” Jimin says. “Wow, he...he looks like he’s aged a lot.”

So that is the other guy. I see him cross the street, slowly walking. I don’t see any sign of limp or injury, still. When he sees the sign of the convenience store, he takes out his phone and checks it. Then looks up again at the sign.

The friends in the back are still loudly talking about Seokjin’s acting and stuff when the chime sounds.

“Jung Hoseok, why’d you choose here out of all places to meet?” Yoongi’s voice is rough and annoyed, but a different sort of annoyed than Hoseok’s usual playful annoyance. Hoseok’s tone is something I’d dismiss easily as a joke. But this guy is actually intimidating. Scary. “And I swear to god, it’s ing freezing…”

“Hey, Yoongi!” Hoseok raises his right hand, unaffected by the tone his friend has. “You came!”

“Yeah, I did. Wow,” Yoongi drones. It’s the most sarcastic, unenthusiastic wow I’ve ever heard, and I’m a sarcastic teenager. I guess not everyone was excited to reunite.

Then I see the discomfort levels in Namjoon’s face suddenly elevate. I consider asking him if he’s alright, but he’s with his friends. And knowing him, he’s just going to say he’s fine. So what’s the point of asking?

It doesn’t even take three seconds for Yoongi to turn, see Namjoon, meet eyes with him, and growl:

“What the are you doing here, Kim Namjoon?”

_{wow!! friends have united!! sort of!!! wowwowow happiness--oh nvm my hands are cursed}

_{hello citrusmilk is back with another chapter this took so long to write idk why i have like 3 drafts of this that i kept deleting}

_{i wanted to upload during the week but I was sick plus school school school so busy :( at least it's friday night and i can write this without worrying abt homework!!! for today!! i think i'll keep uploading one ep every friday night, more if i can make time to write during the week}

_{(ive also been a bit worried bc there was an earthquake in korea and many ppl i care about live there)}

_{anyway everyone who's reading this ur rly cool and ily all ur great readers and every single subsciber and comment makes me happy :D}