Entry Zero

Taehyung looks up from his sketch pad when his teacher claps for attention. A boy, who couldn't be more than a year older than him, stands in front of the blackboard holding two lollipops in his right hand and a dosirak in his left.

“Everyone” Mrs. Song, his home room teacher, calls to all the children in the small room.. When the children turn to her with broken-teeth smiles, some with snotty noses, she crouches down beside the boy and squeezes his shoulders smiling at everyone. “This is Jimin. Your new friend.” The boy shyly waves at them with the lollipops still in hand, before ducking his chin back into his chest.

“Hi Jimin!” sings the chorus of all the kids as they are accustomed to greeting new students each year. The boy smiles, red cheeked, at the welcome and whispers a greeting back.

“Jiminie.” She turns to the boy and smiles at him when he does the same. “Why don’t you go find a seat? Hmm? You can sit wherever you like.”

Of course when Jimin’s face reflects the slightest hint of discomfort, Taehyung can’t help but pity the boy. He knows how difficult it is when you’re asked to choose a seat partner. He has been subjected to the horror of it all for the past three years after all.

He knows well that Jimin is, right now, calculating the risk factors of choosing a seat. Mentally, Taehyung chalks off every seat he passes as he makes his way towards the student benches.

He shouldn’t choose the front seat, Taehyung tells himself. Then Mrs. Song will make him read first every time we have a reading class. The boy smiles, feeling oddly proud, when the other boy quickly passes by the front row.

He watches Jimin make his way to the second row and stop at a table full of girls. Giggling when they see him halt. Urgh! No way! Taehyung screams in his mind. Hands into an involuntary fist. Don’t sit beside the girls! Idiot! You’ll get cooties!!!

Yet again, to Taehyung’s immense relief, Jimin moves on from the spot towards the third row. Just keep walking. Just keep walking. Just keep walking. Taehyung mutters under his breath, hands up in a prayer, eyes closed. It’s the bad kids table and Taehyung doesn’t want the good looking new kid to become friends with those ‘hooligans’, as his father calls them.

His eyes are still closed when he feels a weight settle down on the bench he’s sitting on. Stealthily, Taehyung cracks his left eye open, and sure enough, Jimin is sitting beside him. A huge grin resting on his face.

“Hi!” The boy says, shoving a hand in front of Taehyung. A complete 360 degree change from his previous reserved nature in front of their teacher. “I’m Jimin!”

Taehyung shakily takes the hand offered, still not believing that Jimin chose to sit beside him. He might not be a nerd but he’s not exactly a popular kid either. But Taehyung doesn’t tell him that. Instead he takes his hand and resists the urge to point out to his new seatmate that he’s already been introduced by their teacher. He’s learnt people don’t like it when you point out the obvious to them.

“I’m Taehyung.” He mumbles instead, quickly pulling away his hands because they tingle in Jimin’s.

“Hi Taehyung! I’m Jimin!”

With a withering look, Taehyung raises his eyes and tells the boy that, “you’ve already said that.”

To his credit, Jimin doesn’t find the statement even a slightly bit rude. He simply smiles and shoves a lollipop in Taehyung's hand. “Let’s be friends.” He says, voice cheery and bright.

Taehyung looks at the candy in his hand and then back at Jimin with eagle eyes. Sure, many people have wanted to be friends him but none of them have made Taehyung feel so giddy at the prospect.

He’s looking forward to and excited to be Jimin’s friend and he’s so, so, so happy that Jimin asked. He really wants to be friends with the boy and he doesn’t even know why. His stomach feels like that ‘Whooosh’ feeling it does when his brother drives down an inclined road at super top speed. His heart feels like it inside his mouth and he’s trying his hardest to swallow it but it just won't go down. And his mouth tastes like the rock candy his mother always buys for him as they walk back home.

With a gruntled smile and an eager nod, Taehyung beams at his new friend, “sure!”

And thus starts, a love story.

Entry One

Seoul, 2017

Yoongi eyes the battered cover of the notebook sitting in between the almost untouched copies of The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy and a copy of Deadman Wonderland . He’s exceedingly annoyed by the fact that someone was dumb enough to place the two books in the same shelf, but he ignores the incident for the time being. It’s a cold day outside so he’d planned on checking out something light and effortless to read for the day but his attention is suddenly diverted by the particularly worn out book that is sitting between his previous two choices.

As he pulls it out of the shelf, it’s oddly hefty, so unlike a normal paperback but not at all like a hardcover either. One touch tells him the outside jacket is pure leather and when he flips through the pages the sheets are a high quality marble paper. Yoongi scans through a random page and it’s not printed in, it’s written in. He can tell it’s ink from a fountain pen when he tries to scratch at some of the words and blue, dried ink, settles under his nails.

And really, who wouldn’t want to read it now? The first page itself, making him curious under his toes:

Diary of Kim Taehyung

Gyeonggi-do, Suwon

1966 - 1967

All my tears are because of him. All my wounds spell out his name. He’s the path to my destruction. He’s the most beautiful tool I scar myself with.

In a time when even a simple love is taboo, I chose to fall in love with Him.

He’s not one for romance novels but the book - diary - seems to have been written during the 1960’s and Yoongi doesn’t know why but he’s looking forward to the unrequited, forbidden love story of a young boy for another.

Making up his mind, he takes the book to the self-checkout counter and pulls out his library card. Having scanned it, he then turns the book in his hands to look for the barcode, but it’s not there. After spending a good five minutes, trying to look for the library’s barcode on the book, he huffs agitatedly and walks to the checkout counter.

“I want to check this book out, please.” He whispers at the kind old man sitting opposite to him. He shoots him a sweet smile before turning to the book in hand.

“That’s not a book from this library, Young man.” Yoongi watches, a frown etched into his forehead, as he looks up at him, pushing the book back to him, gently. “You're free to take it, if you want.”

He frowns, taking it back and sends a questioning look at him, then nods and walks away with the book still tucked under his arm.

He misses the meaningful look the librarian shoots at him as he leaves.

***

He folds his feet under his legs as he settles into his armchair. A knitted blanket draped over his body, a coffee mug sitting in his hands. The diary, in his lap.

Like a sudden storm, a million butterflies emerge in his heart, as if anticipation rising, as he starts reading.

January 3rd, 1966

It was the first day of school after the winter break today. I swear I feel every single bone in my body breaking. Who’s idea was is to have basketball practice at the end of the day!? The ice still hasn’t melted yet! For Heaven's sake!

I didn't even want to go! Didn't even have any classes!

Urgh! Why did I even go!?

…

You know why I went, don’t you?

Ha! I feel so stupid talking to a stupid diary. Then again… Can’t really say these things to anyone else right?

…

…

Jimin really at basketball, you know? He’d been sitting at the bleachers the entire time we were there.

I wish I at that stupid game too.

We walked to the noodle shop in the marketplace after school. He offered to pay. Seemed to be in a good mood. He smiled a lot today too.

I think it’s because that dumb girl who gave him a confession letter in the afternoon.

He took it alright, saying that it was ‘a brave attempt’ and the ‘girl’s feelings shouldn’t be harmed’ and what not. Said he wasn’t interested in dating, though. But I could tell he liked it. The pink envelope, sprayed with expensive perfume. The pearl-like penmanship. The sweet words.

He tucked it inside his backpack with so much care, my heart ached in longing.

I wish I had nice penmanship. I wish I had enough money to buy expensive perfume only to spare it on paper.

I wish I could tell him I like him.

Her letter wasn’t even that touching. She just said she liked him and would like to date him. Emotionless, if you ask me.

Then again, can anyone ever feel the way I feel for him?

No one would know the right words to say to him.

He smiled like a fool the entire day today because a girl told him he’s handsome. That she likes him.

I wish I was allowed to love him like I do.

He wouldn’t stop smiling even when the world fell apart, if he heard my heart.

I’d tell him how his brown eyes look like they stole their color from the bark of a willow tree. How his smile is so innocent - so pure - that it turns me into the most sinful person on earth. The way he waves at me when our eyes meet, smiling eyes, and hair a mess, makes me thank God for waking me up for another day. The way he moves towards me, slicing through the crowd of the morning assembly. The way he looks so utterly unabashed as he places his arm across my shoulders.

I wish I could tell him that everything he does breaks me as I try to put myself back.

I wish I was allowed to love him like I do.

Suwon, 1966

Taehyung stares at the calendar stuck to the back of his notebook, as he tries to block out the scene playing out in front of him. A girl, wearing a pinafore - sophomore, no doubt - is shyly looking up at the boy beside him. Batting her eyes every now and then. Giggling when Jimin, his friend, takes the envelope with an embarrassed gasp. Rubbing the nape of his neck in embarrassment.

“Umm…” His friend begins, at a complete loss for words as his cheeks turn a bright scarlet. He looks at Taehyung for some kind of telepathic help but the boy simply coughs and walks away. Muttering an excuse of ‘leaving the two together’.

He’s speed walking out of the library building when Jimin stops him. Grabbing the boy by his shoulders the elder of the two, pulls him into his chest and turns him around, muttering over his ears. “You fool. We’re going out the back wing.”

A whispered “right” is all Taehyung manages as he’s being dragged out of the quad and towards the back of the school building. A sullen silences falls between that Taehyung finds daunting. “We can hang out tomorrow, Chim.” He tries to sound like his usual elated self. Of course, Jimin doesn’t miss the brooding tone, but chooses not to point it out for the moment. “You shouldn’t leave her like that.”

Jimin, still hold him in a loose back hug, hums thoughtfully at Taehyung’s words. “What about you then?” He asks after awhile, wherein Taehyung almost melts due to the hot air the boy is blowing in his ears.

Taehyung shrugs goodnaturedly at that and turns around as they reach the bus stop. He waves his hand in front of him and declares, “I’m good. I can just go hang out with Seokjin or something. Besides, I have a vocal exam next week so gotta work on that song I’ve been assigned too.”

The elder boy eyes him then. A long while. And Taehyung can’t help but trace every line in his face. Every crevice that makes him fall in love with the boy. “You don’t have to hang with Seokjin or work on the exam alone,” Jimin mutters as the bus comes into view. He walks over to Taehyung and ruffles his hair before pulling him into a side embrace. His fingers still carding through the locks at the back of the boy’s head. Massaging just under the nape of his neck, “I’m not leaving you.”

They are simple words. Nothing fancy, nothing heartfelt. But Taehyung can feel himself falling more in love with the boy when he says that.

Seoul, 2017

His violent ringtone breaks his reverie and Yoongi jerks away from the book in his hand to reach out for the device. Without so much as looking at the caller ID he answers the call and is greeted by the voice of his best friend.

“Where are you?” Jungkook’s voice filters through the device and a smile makes it’s way on Yoongi’s lips.

He carefully places the diary on his coffee table and stands up, stretching as he replies, “I’m home. Chilling. You?”

“I’m hungry. Let’s go for ramyun at the old store.”

Yoongi chuckles at the excitement in the boy’s voice, and nods his head, reaching for his jacket as he makes his way out his apartment. Grabbing his keys and wallet as he hangs up with, “meet you at the bus stop then.”

***

Yoongi watches Jungkook slurps down another bowl of the steamy delicacy. He can’t help but roll his eyes at the boy’s unquenching hunger. Looking away from the boy, he then starts looking at the back wall of the little shop, like he always does.

It’s a quaint little eatery, no larger than a studio flat. With only four tables and no washrooms, the place holds an antique feel to it. The wallpaper is yellowing and most of the utensils they serve with are so old they are turning green at the handles. He still remembers the day Jungkook had brought him to the place, boasting the excellent menu selection and cheap price. Of course, the fact that the shop was more than fifty years old added to its charm.

There’s a wall in the back of the cozy, little enterprise that has always amused Yoongi. ‘It shows history’, he always tells Jungkook. Names, caricatures, love confession, death threats; a myriad of emotions have been graffitied on the pristine white cement wall. And every time he goes there, he makes it a point to try to read all the notes on it.

Today is no different. Yoongi traces his fingers over unknown names and unheard of words. Brand names he’s never known, people he’s never met. And yet it all seems too familiar. He doesn’t know why, it just does. As he’s sitting mesmerized by the sketches drawn on the far corner of the wall, Jungkook’s voice seeps into his consciousness.

“We should take a photo like that someday and stick it to the wall.” He’s pointing in the far right corner of the wall, underneath some obscured band names. Yoongi squints for a better look and sees a polaroid picture of two boys. Holding the extra large ramen bowls over their, grinning like fools. There is curry all over their white shirts and face and they look utterly drunk. “It’ll be a good memory.” Jungkook says and Yoongi tilts his head to read the penmanship on the bottom of the picture.

He’s about to get up and walk over to the picture when Jungkook nudges Yoongi. “Are you planning on staying here all night?” the boy asks with raised eyes.

Yoongi shakes his head and gets to his feet, ready to leave the little shop when his eyes catch sight of a little polaroid camera sitting at the checkout counter near the exit. He halts, something stirring in his stomach and his hand shoots out to hold Jungkook back from exiting. At the boy’s raised eyes, Yoongi jerks his head towards the device.

Smiling at boy whose hand is held in his own, Yoongi reaches out to the camera and smirks, “let’s make a memory.”

Jungkook smiles, eyes shining, moves to crouch beside the shorter man. They click the picture, grinning faces and all, and Yoongi watches the boy politely ask the owner of the shop for a marker pen. Rolling his eyes when he sees him ink the bottom of the polaroid with the date and their names.

Min Yoongi Jeon Jungkook
Seoul 2017

He spies Jungkook racing to the back with a wall tack and pinning the photograph to the memories wall. And as they exit the restaurant Yoongi feels his stomach itching to know what was written on the polaroid of the two boys’ he’d previously seen.

Entry Fourteen

Seoul, 2017

They have no idea what had pushed them to do this, but a week after that awful rain Yoongi and Jungkook find themselves at the playground of their old school. Not to mention it's the middle of the night and the two are the only humans to grace the otherwise abandoned play area.

Like the little kids they are, the boys are racing up and down slides and swings that they've outgrown by several years. Jungkook, clearly more so than Yoongi. The hooting owls alert them of midnight but the two boys never pay heed to it, as they continue screaming their heads off in the merry-go-round.

It's several hours after fooling around that they settle down. More like fall down in the soft sand pit that had been their most favorite pass time during kindergarten. A calm falls over them like a blanket of warmth during winter.

“Care to tell me what's got you feeling down?” Yoongi whispers after several minutes staring at the night sky with a sense of longing. The stars visible for once. He can feel Jungkook move his head to look at him - in questioning no doubt - and he smiles as he continues, never looking away from the galaxies panned out for them in space. “You called me at at 11 on at school night and asked if we could come here…” He turns his head to stare into the already glistening eyes of the boy as he gently speaks, “Did something happen?”

There's an ocean of emotions shining behind brown eyes that strain to keep their tears in. Yoongi wishes he could just grab the boy in his embrace and never let him cry again, but he knows that's not what Jungkook needs right now. Instead he turns back to the sky, patting Jungkook’s hand that is sitting between them.

“Sometimes I wish I couldn't feel.” Comes Jungkook’s whisper as he turns his hand under Yoongi’s, holding it. “Feelings are a .”

Yoongi doesn't respond back. Just continues to rub his thumb over his friend's cold knuckles as they continue to gaze into the night's beauty.

***

Yoongi waves Jungkook goodbye from the threshold of his apartment door before shutting the door close. He never received an answer to his inquiry about Jungkook’s reason for sadness, but it’s not like he’s not going to see the boy tomorrow during their physics lab, so his mind is rest assured. Either ways, Jungkook looked like he’d gotten over whatever ordeal he was dealing with so Yoongi considers it a job well done.

He glances at the clock on the mantle and frowns when the time reads 2:18 in the morning. Biting his lips, he huffs a sigh and refutes the idea of his bedroom for the night. Instead, walking into the kitchen, pulls out a large mug, fills it with milk up till the rim and scoops out three large spoonfuls of his favorite chocolate mix. Warming it up in the microwave, he’s all set.

Walking over to his favorite spot by the window, Yoongi settles under the plush throw and cuddles next to his couch pillow. He pulls at the diary sitting on his work desk and opens to the page he’d last bookmarked.

January 7, 1966

It shouldn’t excite me, but it does.

I shouldn’t like him like that, but I do.

I should’ve pushed him away, but I couldn’t help but pull him closer.

Jimin should hate me; he would if he knew. But he doesn’t.

I wish he never finds out.

Suwon, 1966

It’s past midnight and Taehyung is only just settling into his covers when a pebble knocks onto the glass door of his balcony. He doesn’t make much of it and continues to fail at making his pillow fluffier by literally punching it in every possible crevice. Soon however, one stone turns to two which then turn to fifteen. Taehyung stops in the middle of his pillow reconstruction and watches his gallery with hawk eyes. And sure enough, another round of pebbles come flying at the glass panel.

It’s fairly comedic how the boy jumps to his feet at the sound of rock hitting against glass and lets out a shrill shriek - that he will most definitely deny. Like a scene out of a cliche romcom, Taehyung brandishes his Calculus textbook and edges closer to the balcony door, to peek at whatever, or whoever, is throwing those stones at his window.

He’s trembling only slightly as he leans over the low railing and looks down at the person standing down in the lawn. His eyes turn double their size when he catches a glimpse of the person, a man, he presumes, in a hoodie waves at him. It’s too dark to really see his face, but Taehyung thinks he knows the person, merely because the said person yells at him with a demonic, sonorous voice. “Taehyung!”

The hint of cheekiness in his voice, is enough of an indication of who it is and Taehyung lets his lips curl in an ugly frown as he whisper-yells at his friend. “What the are you doing her, !?” He watches Jimin take in a deep breath before he answers and stops the boy before he has the chance to, “don’t you ing dare yell again!”

Jimin rubs the back of his neck as he looks up at Taehyung, whisper-yelling (which in Taehyung’s opinion is the same as him talking out loud), “let me in. I wanna sleep with you.”

Okay, so Jimin is bad at articulating words and Taehyung knows that. But still, the knowledge of the boy’s poor language skill does little to dampen the rain of emotions flooding Taehyung’s being. He knows Jimin doesn’t mean it that way. That it’s highly out of context, but Taehyung can’t control the way his ears turn red and the heat that pools into his cheeks.

“Why do you wanna sleep here though?” He yells back (quietly of course) and he looks around himself trying to figure out a way of letting the boy in without his parents know. “Can you come in through the front door, or is your coming here supposed to be a secret?”

“Of course it’s supposed to be a secret, you idiot!” Jimin huffs back. “And I’ll tell you why once you help me in.”

Taehyung groans as he pulls at his hair, growling at the slightly older boy staring up at him. “How in the world can I get you in, if not through the front door!?”

It seems that Jimin already thought of that, however, because he yells back at Taehyung to, “make a rope out of your bed sheets and throw it down here!”

Taehyung races back inside and does as he's told, and sooner than he's aware, Jimin is climbing up the rope ladder he'd learnt to make during his boy scout days. The younger boy grits his teeth to keep the tight hold on the other end.

Soon, like Shakespeare’s Romeo, Jimin is mounting over the ledge and stepping into his balcony. And just like in the play, Taehyung's heart screams a warning.

A tragedy in its wake.

But the moment his friend is standing in front of him, looking at him with eyes that bulge at the bottom. Narrowed from the forced smile they are shooting at him, Taehyung can’t help himself, from pulling him into his arms.

Jimin, as if he needed the hug, latches himself onto Taehyung with an unsettled urgency. Pressing his face unto the crook of the boy's neck. Letting a tear spill from his eyes. Onto Taehyung's shoulder. The younger closes his eyes as he traces the path of the tear drop.

Centuries, condensed into a single moment, pass by before Taehyung pulls back. Staring at his friend from under his eyelashes, he whispers almost inaudibly, “do you wanna talk about it?”

Jimin smiles, another rueful curve on his lips, and nods his head. Hands still wrapped just above Taehyung's waist.

The younger boy smiles back in encouragement, because he doesn't know what else he should do right now, and pulls the boy into his bedroom.

Seoul, 2017

Yoongi stares annoyed at his now empty cup. Lips curled into a frown. What's the use of buying a huge cup when the chocolate milk still won't last longer than an hour!?

He groans pushing himself to stand and stares at the diary in hand with a forlorn look in his eyes. Then looks out the window through which morning light is pleasantly seeping in. Huffing another sigh, Yoongi replaces the book on his work desk and pats it as he quietly whispers to himself.

“I guess I'll read the rest tonight then.”

***

As soon as he walks into the cafe, Yoongi is bombarded with the smell of cinnamon and chocolate. It’s an awfully familiar scent that reminds him of a boy with dimples. He smiles, making his way towards the counter and smirks at the boy standing at the till. “Jungkookie!”

Jungkook looks up from the order cup he's working on and beams at the boy. “Oongie!” Yoongi doesn't know how the boy can be so excited every time they meet, but he knows he finds the trait loveable. “Same old, same old?” He asks cheekily and Yoongi snickers as he nods.

Turning around to give the shop a once over, he realizes that the shop is empty. So when he turns back around, Yoongi leans over the counter and gestures at Jungkook to grab his attention. “How you doing today?”

Jungkook raises his eyes in question as he walks over to the coffee machine in the back and starts making Yoongi’s order. “What do you mean? What happened to me?”

Yoongi rolls his eyes as he winces back, “you weren't in the best of moods yesterday. Did you get back home well last night.”

The other boy doesn't respond back as he makes the drink. Placing it on a tissue paper when he gets back, Jungkook bites his lips as he nods with a small smile. “It wasn't much. And yes. I, obviously, did get back home safe, Oongie.”

He's lying. Yoongi is so sure about it, he could swear his entire fortune over it.

Letting a frown filter onto his forehead, Yoongi huffs a sigh and groans out to the boy. “What is it? I wasn't going to keep pestering you about it. But I'm worried about you. You're never distressed about anything for so long. It's been four days now!”

Jungkook sighs as he pushes a few buttons on the till machine and starts counting bills. It's so obvious he's trying to avoid eye contact.

The elder boy watches in apparent dissatisfaction and Jungkook continues to count bills here's probably counted several times before already. Watching the way the boy tries to keep his emotions in. How here's bites his lips every other second. How his Adam's apple quivers. Yoongi can feel anger bubbling in his gut but he doesn't know why.

“It's nothing, Oongie. You don't need to worry about it.” In an afterthought he adds, without ever looking up from the bills in hand, “it's a Friday. What are you doing here even?”

Just as he's about to give a reply, a hand lands on his shoulders and Yoongi shuts up in favor of looking at the person behind him.

“Hey there, Yoongi!” Hana pleasantly grins, latching onto his arm in a death grip. She then turns her attention towards Jungkook and waves at greeting in his direction too. “Jungkookie.”

As if a chameleon changing its colors, Jungkook’s face loses all the colors in it and he goes pale white. Then slowly, like blood seeping into a white pristine cloth, his ears start turning red, lips curling unpleasantly into a fake smile. Hands , almost crumbling the notes in his hand. “Hey Hana.” His voice clipped.

Hana beams at the boy then turns to Yoongi and grabbing his chin turns his face to look at her. She pouts, her lips jutting out in the most delectable manner and bats her eyes st Yoongi, “Come one, babe. We have a movie catch.”

And as she's pulling him away and out the door of the little cafe, Yoongi keeps turning back to look at the boy he'd been talking to.

The way his lips tremble make Yoongi think he's going to cry again.

Does he like her? He asks himself as he exits the through the door. Watching Jungkook from the windows of the shop as they walk away.

For some reason, that leaves a bad taste in his mouth. Something tells him the reason is not possessiveness for his girlfriend but something else entirely.

Suwon, 1966

The two are lying in the bed, pressed against each other’s warm bodies due to the lack of space on the mattress. Taehyung could count Jimin's individual eyelashes tangled into each other if every cell of his body wasn't trying it’s hardest to stay sane. Jimin’s lips, swollen and red, letting out hot breaths, are mere inches away from his own and he feels faint when the warm breath grazes his own lips.

“What happened?” Taehyung whispers, eyes fully awake now. He knows already but he's aware that Jimin needs to speak out about it.

His friend closes his eyes and takes in a deep breath. And when he opens them, Taehyung gives him an encouraging smile. One that is all too familiar to him.

“I skipped Sunday mass, so my father kicked me out of the house for the night.” Jimin mutters against their share pillow. There’s fear lingering in his words. A hesitance Taehyung has seen too many times to not catch. He then breaks from the gaze that Taehyung tries his hardest to stay put. As if waiting for Taehyung to reply, Jimin stays mute. Concentrating on the rhythm of his breaths.

“Did…” Taehyung begins but stops himself. He’s afraid to hear the reply, but restlessness runs through his veins at the lack of knowledge. “Did he hit you, again?”

Jimin looks up into his eyes then. Eyes clear with water lining the rim. He shakes his head lazily, moving closer to Taehyung. Placing his arm across his friend’s waist in an attempt to share body heat. “Not this time, he didn’t.”

Taehyung tries to process the information. He wants to give a reply but his brain seems to have stopped functioning for the slightest of seconds. All he knows is that Jimin’s arm falls perfectly, almost like a puzzle piece, over his waist. The weight gentle, non exerting. Heavy, like the weight of the world.

“You should sleep.” He says after a while of racking his mind for anything to say. As he’s turning to switch off the bedside lamp, though, Jimin stops him. Pulling at the his arm before he can so much as even move.

“You think he’s right, don’t you?” the elder boy asks him. A sort of bitterness lingering in his sleep-deprived voice. “You resent me for my choices too, don’t you? For my beliefs.”

Taehyung looks into those brown eyes that look darker in the night than they are. An ocean of hurt reflected in them. He smiles, turning to switch off the lamp. As he turns back, the moonlight filtering sinfully over the side of Jimin’s face, he braves his heart to move a little closer. “I’m not one to judge.” He whispers. Letting the words hang in the air between them before continuing. “Your faith, or lack of it, doesn’t change the person you are, Chim. Whether you’re a Christian or an Atheist.”

“Says the son of the only clergyman in town.” Jimin scoffs turning on his back to stare up at the ceiling. “Your father’s the first person to give me the death glare in a crowded room.”

“I’m not my father, Chim.” Taehyung whispers. Admonishingly. As if reminding him. “I don’t care if you don’t believe in God.”

The other boy’s lips tremble and he huffs and groans as he turns to his friend. “I try to believe, Tae.” He insists. Emotions leaking through the pores of his being. “I try my best but I just can’t!”

“Why can’t you?” Comes the whispered query.

Jimin looks away and scoffs tiredly. “How can I believe in something I’ve never seen, Tae?”

Taehyung shrugs his shoulders and turns on his back to stare up at the ceiling just like his best friend is. “You can’t see air either, Jimin.”

“I can feel it though” Jimin replies back immediately. As if he was waiting for the Taehyung to say just that. In an afterthought he adds, “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to… insult your faith. I’m sorry.”

Taehyung lets the words crash around his mind for a while before he starts speaking again. Leaning his head on Jimin’s shoulder, which is a lot more comfortable than his own pillow. “I think I’d have been like you too.” He says. “If I didn’t feel God’s presence around me.”

“You feel him around you?” Jimin mumbles a despaired inquiry. Sleep lurking in the whites of his eyes.

“All the time.”

It is then when Jimin turns around and places his arm across Taehyung’s stomach. Snuggling his face into the dip of his neck and shoulder. Breathing hot, breaths against his collarbone. “Well, I can’t feel him. So he doesn’t exist for me.”

Taehyung doesn’t speak after that. Because Jimin has already slipped into dreamland. He simply watches the boy fall into a dream. When he’s sure Jimin’s deep in his sleep. He gets up and walks over to his study table, pulling out a leather bound diary.

Seoul, 2017

Yoongi stares at Hana, his girlfriend of three months, as she is pulling on her clothes. “What’s gotten into you, Yoongi?” She asks as she’s stepping into her skirt. “You seem out of it lately.”

He doesn’t give an answer as he continues watching her get dressed. Once she’s all dressed he gets to his feet and mutters to her, taking his keys from the vanity, “Let me drop you to your class.”

Before he can step out of the room, however, Hana pulls him back. Holding onto his wrist, she raises her eyebrows at him and softens her features as she steps closer. “What happened? Did I do something wrong? Why have you been acting so… distant, lately?”

Yoongi gulps as he stares into her hazel eyes. It’s the same eyes he’d fallen for, but they’ve lost the charm. Or maybe it’s Yoongi who’s lost all interest in them now. It’s been a week since he’s met Jungkook and a week had passed since Hana’s red, luscious lips have lost her beauty.

“I think…” He begins, not an ounce of remorse in his mind. “I think we should break up.” Her eyes bulge out at the words. Mouth hanging open. Yoongi watches her eyes water but it fails to make him feel anything other than guilt for her. “I’m sorry.”

Without even letting her speak, he pulls his arm out of her hand. The grasp tight, but not tight enough. He walks out of her apartment without a glance back.

***

Yoongi wanders into his apartment, still staring into his cellphone. The text message he’d left to Jungkook an hour ago is still left unanswered.

To Jungkookie:
I need a drink. Where are you?

I haven’t seen you for a week.
Are you busy with something?

I stopped by the cafe too. You weren’t there.

Text me back when you’re free.

I broke up with Hana.

As he drags his feet into the living room of his empty apartment, the diary catches his eyes. He smiles ruefully at the book and settles into his arm chair with the futon. The book tucked under his arm.

I learned something new today…

My love for him is like believing in a God you can’t see. I can’t show it to him, therefore, for him, it doesn’t exist.

And if it doesn’t exist, then the possibility of him returning those feelings doesn’t either.

He’s in the middle of opening the next entry when his cell phone dings. Yoongi looks away from the messy words inked into the marble pages and smiles at the text message, getting up to leave the apartment at the speed of light.

From Jungkookie:

I’m in Hongdae. Convention Center.

Bring money. I don’t have cash.

Entry Thirty One

Suwon, 1966

It’s a highschool fieldtrip but for once, Taehyung is looking forward to it. Mainly because this means that he’ll be able to get away from school for a while. And a little bit because Park Jimin is his partner and roommate during their one week stay in the forest cottages.

“The Gwangbangjae National park has been a heritage site for our country since 1816 and it's the largest arboretum in the country, sharing borders with three states” their teacher explains to them as they yawn their way towards their boarding.

Taehyung continues to drag his feet on the gravel when Jimin lets his entire body weight crash into his back. “She's so ing boring.”

“Ugh! You're telling me?” Taehyung scowls at the back of the lady. “Try being her brother in law and living in the same house!” as if to prove a point he dramatically shudders like he just taste a very sour lime.

Jimin winces almost theatrically and pats his back as he exclaims, “your sacrifice will be honored my friend!”

The two stare at each other for a paused second then burst out laughing like the maniacs they are. Grinning like they're high.

“Park Jimin! Kim Taehyung!” their biology teacher, Mrs. Yoo, stares pointedly at them, calling them out with a loud, shrill voice. “Care to share your jokes with the class, you two?” Her smile, fake as faux leather, rests lightly on her lips. The two boys don't reply, instead biting their lips to keep their laughter in. Failing miserably at the task. The woman waits a beat then turns to the entire class and continues her instructions.

“How do you not murder her in her sleep?” Jimin whispers down Taehyung's ear, acting all conspicuous. “How does you brother bear living with her!?”

At the horror in Jimin's voice, Taehyung chuckles and whispers back, keeping his eyes at his sister in law, “well, according to my brother, being in love with her, helps him cope with the trauma of living with her.”

The other rolls his eyes at that and continues to murmur, placing his arm over Taehyung's shoulder and letting his lips brush against his ears to keep his voice down. “I pity that man, Taehyung.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes and is about to speak when Mrs. Yoo interrupts them by clapping her hands in the air to grab their attention. “Now!” she turns to the entire class again, “I want everyone to grab a basket and start hunting the wild roots we've discussed in class last week. I hope everyone remembered to bring their textbooks for this! And remember to be back by sun down. I have the keys to your dorm rooms with me!”

Once she's done the students start dispersing and, just as he always does, Jimin pulls Taehyung away by dragging him by his shoulders.

***

Taehyung stares around the scenery as he sits under a persimmon tree. The sky is still bright with flecks of pink and blue in the horizon and the sweet smell of fruits fills his nostrils. But that's not what grabs his attention. It's Jimin. It always is.

Jimin, lying on the ground beside him. With his eyes closed and and lopsided smile gracing his lips. The sunlight falling lazily over his face in patches leaving the shadows from the tree leaves intact. The mole under his eyes. His full lips. The way his chest heaves even when he's resting. His head resting on Taehyung's lap.

Braving his heart, Taehyung moves a trembling hand towards the boy's hair. Gulping before letting his fingers card through those soft locks. Jimin smiles when he feels Taehyung's fingers playing with his hair. And snuggles his face closer to the boy's belly. Making a million butterflies erupt in his stomach at the feeling of his nose so very close to his belly button.

They stay like that for the rest of the afternoon. Just lying next to each other. Eating the fruits from around them, guffawing over silly jokes. Sharing words of wisdom. Sleeping under the shade of the persimmon trees.

Seoul, 2017

Jungkook is sitting on the fountain border when Yoongi arrives. The elder chooses to not declare his arrival in lieu of watching the younger one blow soap bubbles in the air as he waits for arrival. A dusky pink hue coloring his cheeks due to the cold.

“Jungkookie!” He yells out and watches the boy turn to him that same overzealous laughter he'd come to know all these years. Something drops in his stomach at the smile. So genuine, so pure. Like water flowing down a mountain.

The boy runs to him. Pushing past a crowd. Eyes twinkling like the brightest stars in Heaven.

“You're here!” Jungkook gasps out once he's in front of him. Yoongi watches him heave like crazy with a maniacal smile on his own lips. He doesn't know why, but his heart is fluttering at the sight of his best friend.

Yoongi smirks at the boy and shoves his hands in his pocket, smile never leaving his lips as he says, “of course I am. I keep my promises, idiot!”

He then walks on ahead, gesturing Jungkook to follow. And the younger boy smiles softly as he follows him. Muttering to himself as he races to grab Yoongi in a side hug, “you sure do.”

Suwon, 1966

The night sky turns golden by the time the two friends stumble into their dorm room. It's a very tiny room with two exceptionally narrow single beds and a miniscule bathroom attached. Overlooking the stream that cuts through the mountain range, the view is probably the most exquisite however.

Jimin jumps into his bed, and Taehyung into his own. A cool breeze ruffles their hair as their two turns their eyes to their open window. Without uttering a word, Taehyung gets to his feet and drags their comforter behind himself as he shuffles out, into their tiny gallery.

“Are you planning on trying to commit suicide with a blanket wrapped around your body?” Jimin muses from inside the room, guffawing at his own joke.

“It's a comforter, idiot.” Taehyung dryly responds back. Mirth in his voice. He then sighs and looks back and the setting sun, smiling a he explains. “Just imagine how the sunset would look from here.”

At that Jimin stops laughing and contemplation colors his features. He doesn't speak after that and drags his own comforter behind him to squeeze into the spot next to Taehyung. They knees pulled to their chest but their feet touching still.

Jimin bends a little in his awkward position to grab Taehyung’s feet, rubbing them as he continues to stare at the horizon. “Why are your feet always so cold?”

Taehyung looks at him, gazing at his side profile that is more defined in the light of the setting sun. He smiles and rests his cheek against his knees, sighing delightedly at the warm hands that work their heat into his cold feet. “I have bad circulation, you birdbreath.” He mumbles. Suddenly, the exhaustion of the day hits him like a bullet train. “Your hands are always so warm though.”

Jimin scoffs and rolls his eyes, turning to smirk at the boy. They eyes staring holes into each others. “That’s so I can hold your cold hands, chicken brain.”

And once again, the words hold no meaning in reality but to Taehyung they mean the world. He smiles, albeit a little bitterly at the difference in their context, and looks away as the sun begins to set.

As the sky turns a bright pink with shades of grape purple and crayon blue filling the spots where light doesn’t reach, Jimin pulls Taehyung’s hands into his own. No words shared. No explanation. He continues to convey heat into Taehyung’s palms. Holding them close to his lips and blowing breaths over nails that have turned blue due to the cold.

Seoul, 2017

They are standing at a food stall and Jungkook is all smiles so naturally, Yoongi is too. The man at the stall is boiling the corn kernels and it’s a sight to behold. Not because it’s winter and the corn kernels look delectable, but because Jungkook is literally bouncing up and down where he stands at the anticipation of them.

“Here you go, boy!” The man laughs as he pushes a huge cup of boiled corn kernels flavored with butter, lime, salt and pepper. He then makes another cup and gives it to Yoongi, telling the two to enjoy themselves.

Jungkook takes a bite of the warm snack and hums with his dimples on display, closing his eyes as their walking towards the park. Yoongi is biting into his own spoonful when a kid comes racing towards them riding a skateboard. In a sudden burst of reflex, Yoongi grabs Jungkook by the hand and pulls him away before the boy crashes into him.

Jungkook, whose eyes were closed, pops his eyes open and stares at Yoongi with the plastic spoon