January 2019. Pasadena 

The residential streets of Pasadena are always serene in its unassumingness. Mid-century dwellings with purple bougainvillea blooms climbing over white washed walls. Stray looking mutts with muddy fur nap inside metal fences. 

Taehyung wakes up alone, clutching onto an oversized pillow. He blinks slowly, staring at the unfamiliar ceiling with vintage moulding, fragments of a forgotten dream tendriling on the back of his mind. 

The electric clock on the wooden end table reads 7:14. He sighs, feeling every cell of his body clamouring for rest, but reality floods back onto his mind, jolting him awake. 

The space next to him in bed is empty. 

He pushes himself up, and scans the floor. Only his jeans and shirt are scattered about, nothing else. 

Taehyung gets dressed. The small window facing the bed is closed, but morning sunlight filters through the vintage glass panes and stream into the room between half open curtains. 

Taehyung peeks into the hallway outside, and speaks, “Hello?” 

No response, saved for faint chirping of sparrows outside in the distance. 

He walks down the creaking wooden staircase at the end of the hallway, and strolls past the kitchen and living room. 

Nobody’s around. 

The realization quickens his heartbeat. Where could Jungkook be? In the garage, out for a coffee? 

It’s too risky. But this is the first time he’s ever had in the house alone, too precious to be wasted. Taehyung gulps, and turns to climb back upstairs swiftly. 

The bedroom could use a quick search if he has time after, but the furniture is sparse, doesn’t seem promising. Instead, Taehyung heads straight down, to the study at the end of the hallway. 

He pauses at the closed door, glances all around the frame quickly, checking for any inconspicuous setup of a seal. Nothing he can notice. Taehyung knocks on the door tentatively, “Hello? Jungkook?”

No response. 

The door knob seems deceptively ordinary. Just as Taehyung considers pulling out his keys for the hidden tool to unlock, an idea blooms on his mind. 

No way-

His hand reaches in anyways, and with a gentle turn of the knob, the door creaks open.

Taehyung pauses, stunned.

It’s not even locked. 

His heart thrums nervously against his chest. It’s a trap, walk away. But Jimin’s stern gaze flash across his mind. There’s no time left, he needs to find something, something about him... For the safety of countless agents out there. 

Taehyung winces, and steps through the door. 

The room inside is neat and orderly. Bookshelves flank walls on both sides, and directly in front of him, under a window overlooking the flowing Arroyo Seco and distant colorado street bridge, is a wooden writing table. 

A silver laptop rests closed on the worn out oak surface of the table. Taehyung considers opening it, trying out different passwords for luck, but decides against it. Not enough time. 

He scans the desk again hastily - a stack of sticky notes, an empty notepad with traces of faint indents… He pulls open the few shallow drawers absently, eyes flitting between all the objects in the room.

Something, something that matters-

He strides towards one bookshelf and glances at the books - mostly English, some German and Russian, and one Spanish poetry book (Crepusculario). Most of the spines are worn out and yellowed. The subjects are diverse - Roman Imperial Architectural and Grimm’s Book of Fairytales next to 1958 World’s Guns Catalog. 

They feel old though, like collections from a different time, at home on the shelves yet jarring when Taehyung thinks of the Jungkook he knows. 

, what does he know anyways. Taehyung grumbles and traces over the books with one finger. 

Something personal…

His finger slows on a book placed horizontally on the ledge. It’s thin, the edges curling a little from being well read. On the faded cover, a rainbow arching over an endless stretch of rocky precipice, and in a thin tall font: The Golden Key.

Taehyung opens the book carefully. There are scribbles on the back of the cover. The cursive writing is feminine and elegant: 

May we reach the land whence the shadows fall, together.  

The signature is hard to decipher, made of initials and tangled flourishes in yellowed ink. 

It turns out to be a book about a fairytale. After every few pages, there’s a page of illustration protected by a thin translucent sheet. Something about a boy finding a key at the end of the rainbow, then meeting a girl to find the door to unlock together. 

Taehyung flips through the pages. As the boy and girl visit different astonishing places, their faces begin to look more weathered. And Taehyung spots letters along the pages of the illustrations, he mumbles to himself, flipping back and forth, trying to see if they form words. 

The last page of the book is wrinkled by fold marks and water stains. Taehyung holds his breath and skims through the words:

“He took his key. It turned in the lock to the sounds of Aeolian music. The key vanished from his fingers, and the door closed behind them… Far abroad, over ocean and land, they could see through its transparent walls the earth beneath their feet. Stairs beside stairs wound up together, and beautiful beings of all ages climbed along with them. 

They knew that they were going up to the land whence the shadows fall. 

And by this time I think they must have got there.” 

The words clench at his heart inexplicably, and Taehyung can’t help but wonder, how it all turned out for the person that wrote the note on the back of the cover. 

At the bottom of the page, there are handwritten letters carefully produced:

Nqkwhlwjrg olj Hmbv     

Xhjay Agtjzwlkcno       

Taehyung smiles thinly, clammy hands gripping onto the page. Cryptography has always been a passion, like a secret game between a select few. His eyes flit between the letters, as various different cipher patterns race across his mind. 

Definitely Vigenère, very old school. But which type? 

He zooms in closer, murmuring out the code thinks of the notepad and pen on the desk. But a voice behind him startles and makes him gasp out loud, “Looking for some reading materials?”

Taehyung feels the blood drain from his face. He digs his fingernails into his palms, and turns around with a shaky smile, “I was looking for you. Sorry if I wasn’t supposed to be here.”

Jungkook’s eyes are unflinching, as he walks through the door. He stops next to Taehyung and gestures at the book, “Good selection there, it’s an interesting read.” 

Taehyung hastily sets the book down on the desk and tries to respond, but his tongue is heavy, heart hammering against his rib cage.

“The book was sentimental to someone close to me.” Jungkook adds, “Fairytales, they reveal people’s fears more than anything else. You know what’s the interesting thing though about this story-“

His hand reaches out to touch Taehyung’s arm. Taehyung suppresses the shiver that it draws, and hums noncommittally, thoughts racing. 

“-that the key disappears after they opened the door in the end. Once they achieved their goal, it no longer mattered. Disposable.” 

Taehyung his lips hastily and takes a step back, “It’s just a tool…” 

He gulps when he senses Jungkook’s gaze hardening, “I mean, like you said, it’s the final goal that matters. Reaching where you want to be…” The scribble in the front flashes across his mind, making him blurt out, “...with the one you care about. A key is just a step in between.”

They are silent for a moment. Taehyung’s limbs are stiff, mind racing through dozens of hand to hand combat scenarios that end in defeat. 

“Harsh.” Jungkook reaches in and whispers. 

Taehyung stumbles a step back, “But - um, of course, a fairytale is just a story. Not set in stone.”

Jungkook steps towards him and hums, the light in his eyes swirls.

Taehyung gulps and leans back, feeling his back suddenly brushing against the wall. He swallows the stifled air, “Look, a story can be rewritten on your mind if you really want to. The ending can be happy, sad, whatever is meaningful to you. And whomever owned the book before,” he eyes the book on the table and adds desperately, “I think she found the ending quite meaningful, no?”

Jungkook’s torso is leaning in, dominating the small space between them. The back of Taehyung’s head hits the wall, and he averts his gaze and fails to rein in his erratic breaths. 

He bristles when Jungkook’s hand reaches towards him, but the fingers pause and brush against his hair eventually. A sigh falls, Jungkook’s breath ghosting his skin, drawing goosebumps on his arms. 

“Maybe…” Fingers linger by the fringe of his hair, slow and detached, like delayed reactions in a dream state, “Maybe you’re right. I was never good at understanding emotions…”

Taehyung glances at the door, body frozen in place. He’s just about to make an excuse to escape the room, when he spots Jungkook’s gaze. 

Dimmed, a little hollow, seeing right through him.

It’s so familiar, the same look Taehyung has caught in his own reflection in the mirror. The same emptiness in moments when life feels stuck, devoid of options. When he’s had to trudge on without a second option. Keep moving, through the searing guilt, the endless loneliness, just to survive. 

The wooden window frame casts a lattice of shadows on Jungkook’s profile, and his shoulders seem to droop slightly. Taehyung steals another glance at the door, but a timid ache takes root in his heart, as his gaze flits back towards Jungkook. 

The muscular frame, the stern features and dark faraway eyes, when Taehyung calms his heartbeat and really looks at him, he wonders if the intimidating facade is only skin deep. Taehyung grimaces, and against the voice in his head that recites all the training scenarios and urges for him to get out, he closes his eyes.

Shutting it all out, the coursing adrenaline, the incessant chatters on his mind that loops through everything he’s been told. Closing his eyes and letting his instincts take over instead. 

Taehyung leans in and feels Jungkook’s warm torso. Grounding, comforting, just like the first night when they met, just like every time they face each other in the dark, when the outside world is forgotten just for a moment. Something calls to him, something stronger than fear that he cannot quite name. Taehyung pauses and lingers in the radiating heat, and feels his limbs relax when Jungkook’s arms envelop him.

A whisper echoes by his hairline, tickling his skin, “Maybe a little fresh air would be good after all. Maybe a walk by the bridge, hmm?” 

Taehyung’s heart hammers against his chest, and he in a deep breath to calm his wayward heart. Against his better judgement, he nods and leans in more. 

-

The darkness is suffocating, morphing all the objects in his tiny bedroom into phantom unfamiliar shapes, as the walls cave into him on his mind. Taehyung clutches onto the phone and focuses on the sweet hypnotic voice at the other end, willing for it to do its magic.

“You remembered the cipher block perfectly. It was Vigenère code indeed, just with a custom code book, old school. Turned out to be an address leading to an old holding place for a Swiss bank.”

“What did you guys find there?” 

“Well, it was not easy to get access.” Jimin’s voice turns a tad cold, and Taehyung can picture him rolling his eyes, “The bank denied our request, so I had to arrange for two agents to do some footwork.” 

“But you did get in, in the end…”

“Of course. Big place though, lots of lockers, various storage rooms that were paid to be kept intact for decades. A lot of information kept on site, mostly old and obsolete. We are still investigating.”

Taehyung shifts his body in the dark, “How old?”

“Going back to before the cold war. Transmittals, sketches, property notes in various languages. A database before all our times.”

“But you - you didn’t find what you were looking for…” Taehyung’s voice comes out a little shaky. 

“The list of agent names? No. We’ll keep looking though, it might take weeks to decipher everything there…”

“So… so there’s still no evidence that he has the list. Or that he’s even the one-” 

Jimin clicks his tongue and cuts him off, “What more do you need? You found a book in his house titled the Golden Key, with encryption that took us a week to decode, leading to some secret database. It’s ridiculous and frankly extremely dangerous for you to even question what’s been proven beyond a doubt.”

“I know. But - but honestly, something feels off… He knew I read the book, knew that I saw the code…”

“Yes. Which shows he doesn’t suspect you at all. If anything, he’s starting to trust you more. You’re so close, so close to something that’s so very critical to the safety of our agents out there. Nobody has been this close to him before.”

“But Jimin…” Taehyung bites his lip, worrying it between his teeth, before responding, “You have to believe me. Something is wrong. I think he knows, I think he’s known since the beginning. I don’t know how to explain it, but it feels like he wants me to get closer, to find the database, to see more…”

“Good! That’s trust, that’s exactly what I was saying-”

“But why, Jimin? Why would he trust me if he knows who I am? It’s a trap, it has to be. But I don’t feel at risk when I’m around him. Quite the opposite, I feel - I feel - “ His words loses their urgence, and turns quiet, as his mind swims with muddled thoughts. 

The gentle kisses that make him blush, the hands that always guide and protect him, the embrace he falls asleep within…

“Please. I think you should assign a different agent to this. Please Jimin, I’m so confused, I can’t - it’s so hard to separate work from other feelings. I feel like I won’t live through this… not like this…” the pleads tumble out, surprising himself. 

A sigh, and Jimin’s voice turns softer, sweeter, as he responds, “Tae. Oh Tae. Your biggest strength has also always been your weakness. Have you forgotten what happened in Tskhinvali?”

The flashes of memory return at the words, of crimson splatters on the sun parched walls, and phantom screams clenching at his heart.

“You were soft that day, soft over one civilian. And your mistake had cost the lives of eight US soldiers.” Jimin whispers gently, “Eight casualties because you acted on your instinct.”

He wants to tell him to stop. That his words are cruel and cuts deeper than any weapon he’s ever encountered. But he can’t, there’s a heaviness in his stomach, dragging his spirit down, snuffing out any word that was determined to come out.

“So agent Kim Taehyung, let me ask you one more time. You’re the only hope for the safety of our top agents out there right now, the only one that could eliminate the biggest threat to our agency. Will you be able to complete the task?” 

The question hangs in the silence, and Taehyung closes his eyes, succumbing to the darkness, letting it seep onto his mind. When he responds, the voice is monotoned and foreign, as if spoken from someone else entirely.

“Yes, sir.” 

-

February 2019. Pasadena 

He's always enjoyed strolling on the Colorado street bridge, especially in the late evening when it's just the two of them.

It's usually around ten or eleven, after they've had a slow dinner, and have had some time to catch up. The weather has been mild this winter, so Taehyung usually grabs a light jacket, or maybe add a scarf if Jungkook insists.

It's about a 20 minute walk from the house, but there are shops on the way to distract him, and a cafe (the Winkin Owl) with amazing chocolate affogato.

Then slowly, the stores recede past them, and the street meanders into an opening, flanked by old camphor trees with young vibrant leaves. Taehyung likes to run his fingers along the leaves as he walks by, feeling their infectious vitality under his fingertips.

The sky has already darkened today, by the time they reach the bridge. The glass orbs on the antique streetlamps cast a patchwork of amber rings on the tiled ground, and the graceful balusters fencing the sidewalk are accentuated by deep shadows. 

The walking surface extends into the distance, as if stretching across the Ayyo Seco waterway without end. There’s a timelessness to being on a bridge, Taehyung thinks as his arm stays looped with Jungook’s. Suspended temporarily between two locations, it’s easy to pretend that they can stay in between for as long as they wish, while the real world pauses and waits.

He tries, gazing up into the muddled clouds hidden within the dark sky, pretending that the moment is innocent and eternal as he’d like it to be. But the usual tricks don’t work today, instead, anxiety bubbles within, threatening to spill over with every step they take together. The flow of the waterway thousands of feet below them echoes on his mind, crashing and pulsing. 

“The water level is pretty high, must’ve been ‘cause of all the rain this week.” Jungkook murmurs next to him, jolting him out of his thoughts.

Taehyung purses his lips before responding, “Probably.” 

He feels Jungkook’s glance on him, “You’re so quiet today.”

“Long week at work.” Taehyung answers. Memories of Jimin’s low hissing voice flashes across his mind - 

The deal is going through, we received news Russia has already transferred the funds. You need to stop him at all cost. In any way possible. You have full permission to execute on site. 

Taehyung swallows thickly, and forces out a smile, “Month end, always a mess at the bank.”

“Well, I’m glad you still came out to visit then. Try to relax and let it go, now that you’re here.”

“I will, thanks.” Taehyung tries to keep his arm steady, and tugs on his jacket. The weight on the inside pocket is light yet unmistakable, making his heart hammer wildly. 

There’s nobody else on the bridge. Just the two of them, stepping through all the rings of hazy light, wandering from darkness to darkness.

Jungkook pauses. Taehyung follows his gaze over the bridge, into the murky water below, as the current flows through rapidly underneath, swallowing up the splatters of light from the lamps. 

They stand together for a moment, and a draft blows, muddling up his thoughts. Taehyung simultaneously wants to lean in for the familiar warmth, and run far far away from all this - all the -

All the lies, the distrust, the questions he cannot ask, the feelings with nowhere to go but deeper inside.

“You know he’s just using you, right?” 

Taehyung blinks, and hums in confusion.

“Jimin. He’s never told you the truth, has he.”

Blood drains from his body at the words. His limbs are sudden frozen in place, and the wind keeps blowing, making him shiver and dizzy.

“I don’t - I don’t know what you’re saying…”

Jungkook turns to look at him, “He knew I’d figure out who you were, that I never had a reason to trust you. Yet he pushed for you to see me, over and over.” 

Taehyung stutters but words don’t come out, only a choked gasp escapes his lips. He backs up.

“And I thought you two were friends. Same schools, same enrollment into secret service, always together.”

Taehyung stays silent. 

Jungkook tilts his head, “But the thing is, he never really knew the truth about me anyways, did he. So maybe it’s better that I tell you everything instead of him. I think I prefer it this way.”

His face is half hidden in darkness, the shadows cutting into his profile, making his features seem colder, unfamiliar. 

“Agent Kim Taehyung, six years in service. Active in the field until the incident ten months ago in Tskhinvali, where you tried to rescue a civilian boy during negotiation with local militia, and caused your entire crew to be under attack.”

Taehyung grimaces, allowing the words to cut deep and draw blood.

“You’ve been on a bit of a hiatus since then, hard to bump into. I went to the bar that night in east berlin just to meet you.” 

“You wanted - to meet me?”

A soft chuckle, “Correct.”

“Why?”

“Jimin’s always been obsessed about my case. You’re not the first agent he’s tried to send my way, just to see what happens. But you, ever since I read your files, I’ve wanted to meet you. Thought a lot about how this would all work out in the end-” he shrugs lazily, body relaxed and leaning into the railing, “-it just seems like a good day to finally let it all out.”

All the little details of his features are so familiar - the mole under his lips, the scar on his cheek, the sharp angle of his jawline - yet there’s a buzz on Taehyung’s mind, making everything feel surreal, like a record being replaced at a strange pace. He clenches his fists to steady the rapid heartbeat, and responds stiffly, “How will it work out, Jungkook? What do you want to let out then?” 

A soft smile, “Let me reintroduce myself, Jeon Jungkook, aka the Golden Key, at your service.” He does a little half hearted flourish with his hand, “I’ve been working between the Russian and US intelligence forces for hmm about eight years now. It was a job I sort of inherited, and as thrilling as it is, eventually, everyone grows tired of the chase.”

Taehyung thinks of the weight on the inside pocket of his jacket, and rasps, trying to buy himself more time, “You’re tired of being a double agent.”

“Yeah. I’ve been wondering for a while now, you know, what it is all for. What are we all fighting for?” The dark eyes peer at him, inquisitive, like the first time they met.

Taehyung clears his throat, “Some of us do it to protect the masses, for the common good.”

An acknowledging nod, “Good answer. I’m sure you’ve had a lot of time to think about this as well. That’s the thing I like about you - you always gravitate towards the good. Always end up doing what’s right, even when he tells you otherwise.”

“Do I?” Then why am I drawn to you? Why did I allow myself to sink into this mess, one step at a time, all the way to here?

Jungkook tilts his head to the side, gaze faraway, “I was never in this for anything righteous. I was - looking for someone, looking for myself, who knows anymore. But for the past two years, I’ve been working on something else. Something new and entirely our own. I’d like to believe, that we can dedicate our lives to something more than meaningless propaganda and greed. There are a few others who share my belief, people we can work with together-”

“I’m not sure I understand.” Taehyung whispers, “What do you mean we? What plan are you talking about?”

Another cryptic grin, “Well, you see, I wanted to have a partner, who could utilize their familiarity of the industry to work against it, who I could trust beyond the shadow of a doubt. I need someone to remind me to always do the right thing in the end. When I read about what you did in Tskhinvali, I felt it right away.”

“What I did was unforgivable.” The words gush out shakily, sinking into the night air, “and I lucked out in court martial, deserved way more than just a demotion. Jimin defended me the whole time.” 

“Of course. You’re worth much more to him than that-”

“Stop.” Taehyung raises his voice, grimacing as he speaks,“You’re - you’re all the same. All the lies, the elaborate scenarios, as if people are just tools.” He huffs, and feels rage simmering within, building and tipping over, “What do you want from me? Why did you let me live until now?”

Jungkook cards through his hair and pauses to look at him, “Tae, I didn’t meet you to kill you. When I saw you in that bar in Berlin, when we talked, I was so happy to realize that you truly exist, not just as an idealized impossibility out of my wishfulness. You have faith in everyone, no matter how much hardship that puts you through, no matter how trusting me puts you in danger every single time.”

“What do you want from me? Just tell me… I can’t - I can’t -” Taehyung blinks hard and asks, lips quivering. 

Silence. Instead, Jungkook leans over the edge of the railing and gazes down, “You know, I’ve heard some local stories about this bridge. About how it seems to attract the jumpers. Makes sense, good height to guarantee death, not a lot of foot traffic, and what a view.” 

Something feels wrong, but Taehyung can’t quite figure it out yet. He steps towards Jungkook, but stops himself in the track, “That’s terrible. Step back.”

Jungkook’s eyes gleam, and when his hand reaches inside his coat, Taehyung mirrors his motion.

The black barrel of the gun shines dimly. Glock 43, 9mm bullets, if he lunges forward fast enough, there’s a small chance that he can knock the gun out of his hand… Taehyung shakes off the thought, hand frozen and tucked into his own jacket.

“It’s ok, you can draw your gun, I’ll wait.”

Taehyung gapes at the words. 

“No, really, Tae. Draw your gun, I knew you’ve been carrying it on this whole visit, so pull it out.”

Taehyung shakes his head and forces himself to comply, each movement taking all of his efforts. His voice is shaky, “I don’t want to do this.”

“But you will. Tae, listen to me. You have to shoot me now. Or I’ll fire at you instead. Got it? Shoot me and kill me, now.”

“No. This is not how it’s supposed to go. It’s all wrong. Stop, let’s just talk it through. Maybe there’s a way around this- maybe if you give back the list…”

“That trade was to get you to come to me.” 

His hands tremble, and the lump in the pit of his stomach is unbearably heavy, weighing his entire being down. But Jungkook keeps talking, “I made sure you saw that book and fed the code to Jimin. I let you guys into that storage location so Jimin would be sure he’s onto something. Do you understand now, it was all for this, for you to be here with me, in this moment.” 

Click. Jungkook flicks off the safety, “Love, you have to shoot me, before I kill you and then send out the list. For the safety of all the agents out there, for the common good, remember? It’s the right thing, kill me.” 

Taehyung shivers, willing to wake up from the nightmare, “No… I can’t- won’t -”

“I’m counting down, when I reach zero, I’m going to shoot you. So fight back, Tae, kill me instead. It’ll all be ok, I promise. Kill me, and everything will start fresh again.” 

“Don’t say that. Put the gun down, Please…” The wind ruffles his bangs, making his vision hazy. Both his hands raise straight out, and his dominant eye lines up with the sights automatically, as he’s done a thousand times in training. But why does it hurt so much this time, why does it feel like his heart is bleeding raw, the pain suffocating, making him gasp for air. 

“Five,

four, 

three,

two,

One.”

Click. 

The blast is deafening, making his ears ring. Searing pain pierces through his trembling body, mottling his vision with white spots. Taehyung nearly collapses to the ground, but his eyes remain fixed on Jungkook.

A small smile paints Jungkook’s face, wiping all the tension off his expression. His back slams into the railing, at the impact of Taehyung’s shot fired directly at his chest. But his head lifts up, and torso leans back over the railing. A half sob escapes Taehyung’s lips, as Jungkook’s back arches over, like the jagged lines of a broken wing.

There’s a wailing sound in his ear, wounded and raw. As Taehyung runs the railing, chasing after the figure as it disappears into the darkness beyond, he realizes it’s coming from his own lips. The muddy waves of the river sprawls out below him, and through his misty vision, all he can see is gold. Golden streetlight in a million specks over the flowing current, gold dusting the broken figure as it splatters through the watery surface, making a mess of things. 

Gold everywhere, mixed with tears, and the sobs between ragged breath. Taehyung’s hand reaches up towards the piercing pain in his left arm, eyes unflinching, feeling the gilt branded onto his mind, endlessly. 

-

November 2019. Kusadasi, Turkey

Winter in Kusadasi is quieter, cozy in the few clusters of tourists scattered about the pier at sunset. The clouds in the sky are wisps of warm yellow and rose gold, and the flagposts of all the boats docked at the pier flap in the wind, forming a dissonant but strangely pleasant symphony.

Taehyung sits at a bench facing the open sea, and on a dondurma ice cream cone. 

The street vendor two blocks away dazzled him with the showmanship, flipping the sticky scoops between long spoons like juggling balls. Taehyung didn’t have the heart to tell him he barely had money for dinner. 

Maybe Ice cream for dinner is not a bad idea after all, he mulls over the thought, as the icy sweetness coating his tongue. 

At least now, nobody will ever tell him what not to do. 

It’s been four months of this nomadic lifestyle already, drifting from city to city, roaming the world on his own, and it’s everything he’s ever dreamt of. The backpack beside him on the bench is getting a bit worn out, and the black converse shoes are sporting a few cracks at the bottom, but life is hypnotically calming, in the way that nothing is permanent. People, cities, sceneries, shifting in and out, without a specific goal or purpose. Idyllic.

Well-

Seagulls squawk overhead, and a few playing kids giggle in the distance. Taehyung blinks hard, and hates to admit inwardly at how the thought is not entirely true.

The truth, if he has the guts to be honest with himself, is that it’s been four months since quitting his job with secret service, and he still hasn’t stopped looking. 

What is he looking for? Sigh, if only he knows. In the gentle smiles of strangers, over the different vistas of every new city, in the wind, in the rain, cresting over the waves of the ocean and enveloped in the serenity of a simple scoop of ice cream, his heart keeps searching, looking for what must be out there. 

Something else... Something new and entirely our own… Something more than meaningless propaganda and greed.  

Whence the shadows fall. 

Emotions surge up, and wrangle against his chest again. Emotions that he cannot name, with nowhere to go. Now that he’s given up his whole life, the righteousness, the friendship. All severed, gone. 

Taehyung sighs and looks up into the distance, trying to focus on something substantial instead. It’s the only way to clear the nightmares and spiralling, he’s realized. Stick with the real world, walk until exhaustion everyday, go to sleep early. Maybe the aimless searching will stop haunting him one day, maybe his heart will finally accept that death is the unbreachable divide, is finally able to let go. 

He focuses on each docked boat, big and small, taking note of all the details - the painted name on the hull, the gleaming deck railing, the various designs on each sail - feeling his mind unfurl with the passing time. 

His gaze pauses at one boat. It’s older and unassuming looking, the cabin windows shaded. A figure stands on the wide deck up front, leaning against the railing and looking right at him. The golden sunset and glistening waves are behind him, darkening his features, casting a glowing outline on his silhouette. The way he’s leaning against the railing, relaxed yet taut, and how he seems to be looking directly at Taehyung, as if he’s the only one in the world. A familiar heartache stirs, knocking the breath out of him. 

The figure waves. Taehyung brings a hand to shield his eyes from the gilded rays and bites his lip, feeling his heart in his throat. 

The waves crest and crash, and the moment stills, awaiting for a new beginning.