[ The Potential of Perhaps ]

Part Four

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Week Thirty-Five

The bed was so warm, the pillow so soft, her dreams so sweet, that she was almost able to ignore the shaking sensation she was experiencing.

“Bee…”  She mumbled.  “Bee.”  She shifted in sleep.  “Bian!”

“What!” she exclaimed, jumping up in bed, much to her body’s distress.  “Ow…” she hissed as her shoulder burned, and Hoseok clucked his tongue.

“I keep insisting you sleep on your left side; why won’t you listen!”  He set a plate of breakfast mush on her bedside and sat next to her.  He was dressed and ready for the day, unlike the ruffled lump that sat confused next to him.  “How’s the shoulder?”

Bian pulled the sleeve of her shirt down and peeled away the bandage she wore while sleeping.  The wound was holding, and the skin around the “x” shaped incision didn’t hurt to touch.  “Everything’s fine, though, it’s still swollen.”  She looked up at the group’s medic.  “Is it supposed to be, even after two weeks?”

Hoseok smiled reassuringly.  “Indeed so; you should be able to do minimal things today, and continue adding normal events into your schedule from now on.”  Bian grinned, dying to get out and about after two weeks of lying in bed and doing nothing but talk to Taehyung and listen to Seokjin give verbal lessons.  She needed to move.

“So I can commence my training?” she asked, and he frowned slightly.

“Stick to Yoongi, Taehyung, and Seokjin; stay away from the rest of them, especially Namjoon and Jungkook.  The boy is too rambunctious and Namjoon, just… doesn’t get the whole “healing” business.”  She nodded, the gay feeling of excitement coursing through her veins.  “Do you need help changing?”

It was a kind thought, but she was already embarrassed enough after having him help her get in and out of clothes for the past couple weeks, and refused.  It was humiliating and pitiful to think that she couldn’t have changed without him, but perhaps the most daunting task had been deciding who would help, since they each had their quirks.

Taehyung would probably mention something snarky and intellectual about her bust size, Jimin was an instant no, Namjoon…, Yoongi was “iffy,” Jungkook would be too embarrassed to see his noona like that, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to be in the same room as Seokjin when she was in only shorts and a bra, being even more frightened of the idea that she did want to be in that kind of situation.

So she had gone with Hoseok, who had shown no occasional signs of lust or attraction, and had an overall cool and motherly aspect to his attitude.

“I’ll see you outside,” he spoke, and she nodded, already getting up from the bed.  The old slab of reflective glass she used to peer into was leaning against the wall, and showed her the multiple scars and marks she had littering her entire torso.  Her fingertips traced the bumps and indentations, her eyebrows crinkling in frustration at the prospect of a man one day being her lover and having to look at such ugly imprints.

An old fence…  The infected cut had developed into a scar, and she hated the way it looked like a heart.

Sharp dagger...  She was cutting apples too quickly.

Yoongi…  His often unused knife was lying so casually, hanging off his desk.

Namjoon…  He hadn’t even said sorry.

…Seokjin…  It was an accident.

The story behind it all had come out after she woke three days post-surgery, her fever finally down and Taehyung still being punished for using something so unpredictable on a patient.  She heard from Jungkook later that Seokjin had only left her bedside to eat and go to the bathroom.

He told her what happened from his side of the spectrum, and it all made sense to her afterwards; such a silly mistake that cost so much.  He had gone back after bagging a couple hares, but as she hadn’t caught anything, she hadn’t returned.  That night was beyond cold, he’d said, and he went back to look for her, despite everything he always said about being independent.

The doe was just so motionless, so still, that he had to take the shot.  Unfortunately, she stepped out while he released the arrow, and had snagged her in the shoulder with a barbed arrow tip.  Hoseok spent the entire night digging out everything.

“It’s ok,” she mumbled, remembering how he looked so defeated, so guilty, and how she wanted to reassure him that it was ok.  But she didn’t, and let him take up a cold mask that said he didn’t care, when he really did.

Walking out into the sunlight, the cold always so refreshing and the air crisp, she smiled as she saw the youngest jump from a roof into a pile of snow.  She scurried around the building before he could see her, taking Hoseok’s advice.

“The wind is cold and the snow falls thick… the field is frozen and my ax-handle sticks… but my house is warm and the fire burns bright, while my wife waits in bed by candlelight…”  The soft, cheery tune wafted from behind the house, and Bian peeked around to see Seokjin chopping wood, his ax glinting in the bright sun.  He didn’t notice her presence until she hummed along with his repetitive melody, and he jumped back, letting the thick blade drop into the snow.

“You have a lovely voice,” Bian said, holding her hands behind her back.  He looked flustered, like no one had ever complimented him before.

“Thank you,” he responded awkwardly, and the red tint to his cheeks, brought on by the cold, matched his rarely occurring embarrassment.  But then he returned to his old self and came forward meaningfully.  “Are you supposed to be out here?  How’s your shoulder?”  Bian shrugged, which was a bad thing to do, because she felt a twinge of pain shoot down her arm.

“I’m fine,” she lied, and waited for the numbing in her shoulder to happen, which it always did when she did something stupid and small to upset the cut.  “How’s the firewood?”  He looked behind him.

“Boring, but just fine.  Are you sure you’re ok?”  He accidently laid a hand over the wrong shoulder and she winced, causing him to jump away, but Bian made sure to smile cheerfully.  “Sorry.”

“It’s fine, I’m fine, everything’s fine,” she began, “so why don’t we do something fun.  I can convince Jungkook to stop jumping from buildings and cut wood.”  Seokjin raised an eyebrow and she smirked.  “He’d do anything for his noona.”

“Aww…  So you’re going to bribe him with hugs and kisses, is that it?”

“Yes.”

“Well have fun with that, he’s on his way over right now.”  Bian looked to see the youngster hopping over jubilantly, happily surprised to see her walking outside.

“Bian!”  She turned to Seokjin to wink and mouth the words, ‘watch this.’  “Bian, how’s your shoulder?”

“It’s great, and Seokjin and I are actually going to go look over some training exercises; but the firewood needs cutting, and we can’t leave it unattended.”  Kookie’s eyes were shining with the probability of helping her.  “Do you mind finishing it?”

“I’d bring you the world if you asked me to, Noona,” he concluded before giving her a quick peck on the cheek and passing the two to retrieve the abandoned ax.

“So, as to what we’re doing…?” Seokjin prompted her as they walked down streets laced with snow and paved in stone, his eyes focused on the far shops and not her.  Bian shrugged.

“I can’t do much yet, Hoseok says, but I thought that a nice day spent outside with you would be beneficial,” she said, and saw the hint of a grin that he with so often.  Unintentionally.

“Beneficial?”

“Mentally, Seokjin; it’s all about mind over matter.”  He scoffed and rolled his eyes playfully, and she reveled in his softer side, his laid-back, childish personality that rarely showed itself.

“Now you speak like Taehyung.”

“That’s not a bad thing, he’s smart and not as cocky as Jimin; he’s a good blend of sorts,” she replied, and he nodded to himself.

“What do you think of Hoseok?” he asked, and she glanced over, already seeing the way this was going.

“He’s kind and motherly, a real saint.”  Hoseok was a fourth in the rankings, fifth in her mentor’s eyes.

“Besides the assassin thing, and his seeing you in your underwear, indeed a saint,” Seokjin joked, and she laughed, feeling good about enjoying herself for the first time in a good while.  It was difficult to, when all she could think about was… was…

“Jimin’s nice enough when I’m absent, though, I’m quite positive he has two personalities.”  Seokjin chuckled and looked to the fields, where the second-youngest and fifth on the societal ladder was presumably lazing about.  Despite his obvious skill and youthful energy, her mentor had always placed him at the bottom of his rankings, and she found it interesting that he was second-in-command, yet he had his own idea of the world and how it was supposed to be run.

“Yoongi?”

“I love him, but he’s different,” she giggled, such a foreign sound, thinking of the oddly intelligent genius and his darkly twisted quirks.  “He likes this world, this game…”  She paused, unsure of what to say, but he understood.

“That’s why he and Namjoon get along so well, they have a system, you know.  Namjoon hyung asks him for scheduled plans and strict regulations on missions because he doesn’t know how to control his anger sometimes and Yoongi’s always been great with patience.”  Bian could see the sense in all of it, and knew that their leader had a lack of emotional willpower.  “In return, Yoongi hyung looks for guidance and asks for decisions to be made for him.  Namjoon has great leadership skills, and Yoongi’s view of everything is just too tainted for him to make right and wrong decisions.  So his younger brother does it for him.”  She thought of the planner, wondering if he had ever wanted to kill her or a member of the team for fun, for sport, or to simply try it out.  She shivered as she realized that he probably had conceived the thought at one point.

“Jungkook?”  She smiled, the idea of her Kookie too cute to handle.

“Absolutely adorable; Jungkookie’s just perfect, I can’t explain it.”  His grin faltered, and he cleared his throat, a question on his tongue and a worry on hers.

“And me?” he inquired, eyes ablaze with curiosity and trained on something that wasn’t her own.  She swallowed.

“You’re very intuitive, very good at mentoring.  You were born to teach others.”  She spoke with Yoongi’s words in mind, reminding herself that Seokjin didn’t like to belief that he was meant for all of this…  “Your help’s been invaluable to me, Seokjin.”  He looked content, but not pleased, and she was hardly taken aback when he suggested they actually do something.

“What if I tell you that I had a hidden talent,” he enticed, already leading her towards the weapons shack.

“I’d believe you, but only if you believe that I have one as well.”  He looked back and on his face she could see the tint of interest, but he was trying to hide it, so she mentioned nothing.

“You first,” he spoke, and she looked around the empty, snowed-upon training field.  There was a target set up across the small space, but what she needed was a blindfold and a pair of helping hands.  She patted her bulky winter clothing and came up with nothing.  Seokjin had strapped on a quiver and bow, but he was waiting, perhaps for dramatic affect.

“I need a blindfold,” she blurted out, and he raised an eyebrow.  She looked at him expectantly, and despite his objections, he came over with his large hat, putting it over her head and tying the knot at the bottom so tight that it covered her eyes.  “Appreciated.”

“Now what?”  She could tell he was smiling.

“Lead me around until you’re sure I won’t be able to find my way back.”

“Back to the house?”

“No, to this spot.  Move me in circles and such, so much so that you’ll be sure I can’t find you again.”  She tied the hat closer and stood with hands clasped in front of her, waiting to be led.  She ignored the butterflies in her stomach as she waited for his hands to fall on her shoulders, ready to mask the pain, his deliberate movements about to lead her.

She would never say it, think it, admit it, but the mere thought of his body so close to hers excited her senses, and she unconsciously grinned.

Courtesy of assumptions, however, his hands did not rest on her shoulders, but fell to the curved dip in her waist, directly above her hips.  The tips of his boots tapped the backs of hers, and she was surprised at how close he’d stepped forward.

But he’s always closer than he needs to be…  She wouldn’t acknowledge the truth she knew, wouldn’t honor such irretrievable notions, couldn’t bring herself to consider the actuality.

“I didn’t want to touch your bum shoulder.”  Ok.  “Can you see anything?” he asked, even when she was positive that he knew she couldn’t.  Not a single thing, not even her own intentions.  She shook her head.  “Good.”  This is good...

Seokjin led her in circles and in loop-di-loops, most likely thinking he could confuse her on which way to turn; but what he didn’t know was that Bian was mapping out the field in her head, drawing dotted lines over her footsteps.  He asserted gentle pressure on her sides for four minutes, bringing her around on meaningless paths until he decided that she was as lost as lost could get.  He backed away and she could hear him tread to his original pos