The train station was excessively filled that day.  Parents were bidding goodbye to their loved ones going off to war and school, or for the unlucky bunch, both.  The ones that got to come back from the bloody war, having lost their brothers they were bonded so closely to.  The tears on their faces, stained with the dirt of war, were never dry.  Their hearts were open and bleeding seeing their families after only a year of hard fighting.

People thanked God that day, but for a businessman like Min Yoongi, he couldn’t be more disgusted.  Not that he despised things such as love, he just never experienced it.  He was raised by a wealthy family and taught only one thing, to keep his chin up and not stoop to one’s level.  In this way, he developed into a very cold but successful person who did his best not to meddle with certain business.  Some people would say he was antisocial.

He scoffed at the thought.  Those people don’t know what he has to deal with on a daily basis.  He took his briefcase and boarded the train, shouldering his way past the crowds of people.  He let out a sigh of relief as he sat down in an empty section and slid the door closed, muffling most of the sound outside.

Don’t worry.  You just need to survive a couple more hours, he thought to himself as he looked out the window.  It wasn’t long before the train began to move.

Just as he closed his eyes for a much deserved nap, he heard the door slide open.  He opened his eyes to see a young man, probably a bit younger than him.  His hair was black as night, but his eyes were a sweet brown.  He hadn’t lost all of his baby fat yet, as his cheeks were chubbier than average, adding a boyish innocence to him.

“E-excuse me,” he said.  “Would it be alright if I sit here?  All the other cars are full.”

Yoongi shrugged silently and gestured for him to sit.

“Thank you,” the other breathed as he sat down and closed the door.  

As the train pulled farther away from the station, Yoongi had nowhere to look but outside.  It would be much too awkward to fall asleep now, especially in front of someone he didn’t know.  He watched the boy put his small bag beside him and lean his head back into the seat.  He smiled as he looked out the window at the vast fields.  Yoongi had no idea why, but the young man looked incredibly ethereal.

“What’s your name, kid?” Yoongi found himself asking.

The boy blinked before coughing.  “My name is Park Jimin, sir.”

Yoongi chuckled.  “Sir?”

“Well, I only assumed,” Jimin answered quietly.  “I mean, you’re wearing a nice, expensive-looking suit…and a very nice watch…”  He nodded.  “It only seemed proper, and I don’t know your --”

“Min Yoongi,” the other said all too quickly.

Jimin smiled like sunshine.  “A very nice name.”  He twiddled his thumbs.  “May I ask what brings you on a train to Busan?”

“Business,” Yoongi replied.  “What about yourself?”

“Ah, I live there.”

“I see.”

The younger grinned.  “It’s definitely nice to get out, though.  I can only do this once a year when I take our crop to the factories.”  Upon seeing Yoongi’s blank look, he frowned.  “You aren’t interested.”

“I am,” Yoongi reasoned simply.  

Jimin laughed and shook his head.  “It’s fine.  After all, we’re only strangers.”

“You’re very intriguing, Park Jimin,” the other said.  It was probably the nicest thing he ever said to anyone.

The boy blushed and looked away, flustered as he whispered a quiet, “Thank you.”  

“So you farm?” Yoongi asked, sensing the boy’s awkwardness.

“It’s my parents’ farm,” Jimin explained.  “But after my father entered the war, things were just…not the same.  My mother took the weight of the farm on her shoulders.  She’s been doing most of the work while I take care of my younger brother.”  His eyes widened as he covered his mouth.  “I’m sorry.  I’m expelling too much information again.”

“It’s fine,” Yoongi said.  “You seem like you have a lot on your heart.”

Jimin laughed lightly and rubbed the back of his neck with a small smile.  “Does it seem that way?”

“You probably have a lot of dreams,” Yoongi observed.  “Unlike me, I’ve been stuck with this destiny of carrying my family name.  The cursed people don’t even visit me anymore.”

The younger frowned.  “That’s a bit harsh,” he said.  “And no, I don’t have any dreams for myself…” he trailed off with uncertainty.

Yoongi chuckled.  “You’re lying.”

He saw the way Jimin’s eyes flashed as he heard his words.  He noticed guilt and pain, as well as all the bravery he could muster as he looked at Yoongi with firm lips and furrowed eyebrows.  “Okay, you got me,” he said.  “I want to travel the world some day.  I’ve been saving enough money for a ferry ride to Jeju.  Nothing much, but it’s a start.”

Look at this kid, Yoongi thought.  Here he is saving up every coin while I spend that kind of money like chum change.  He glanced down at his Rolex watch.  With pursed lips, he took it off and handed it to the other.

“Go sell this,” Yoongi said as the young man stared at him with awe.  “It’s the newest model.  That should be enough money to travel to America.”

“How can I accept this?” Jimin asked, exasperated.  “This is more than I can ever make in a lifetime!”

Yoongi smirked and shrugged.  “Watches are fickle things.  I can easily buy another one, or get one from an admirer.”

Jimin laughed.  “You’re a cruel man, Min Yoongi.”

Time seemed to fly by as fast as the scenery.  They talked about intangible things that were complex even for philosophers.  Yoongi stared into Jimin’s eyes as he talked, and they were flaming with passion and life.  

Before long, the train slowed and pulled into the train station in the heart of Busan, a bustling city with trade, business, and pretty ladies -- the works for a young bachelor.  But not for Yoongi.  He was preoccupied with scribbling his address on a napkin.  He hurriedly slipped it into Jimin’s hands before he could leave.

“My address,” Yoongi said.  “Come visit sometime.”

Jimin grinned.  “I’ll be sure to do that.”

As the two went their separate ways on the platform, Yoongi couldn’t help but feel empty and lonely again as the other walked away with a skip to his step.

Yoongi’s body was completely sore by the time he arrived back home in Seoul in the early afternoon.  He was also starving, as the company he was trying to partner with didn’t seem to have the common sense to feed their guests.  He groaned, hoping that his house cook, Mrs. Han, was cooking something delicious for him.  

He walked into his house to be greeted by his butler, Mr. Baek.  The happy old man resembled that of his wife, who was always in a cheery mood.  He took Yoongi’s bags and bowed deeply.

“Welcome home, young master,” he greeted.

“Hello, Mr. Han.  I see the house is in one piece,” Yoongi chuckled.

The butler laughed.  “Young master, please have more faith in me.  It is my duty to tend to your needs.”

“Of course,” the other replied with a nod.  “Can you please take my bags upstairs?  And bring the mail to the table?”

“Oh, young master,” the butler gasped.  “You’re going to work while you eat?  Mrs. Han made a hearty meal for you, so you should rest at least tonight.”

The young man nodded.  “I’m glad you care about me, but business is business.”

“As you wish.”

As the butler went away tending to Yoongi’s things, the young man walked into the kitchen to see none other than Mrs. Han tending to a pot of stew on the stove.  When she turned around to grab a bunch of green onions, she yelped with shock at the sight of Yoongi.  The young man only laughed as she smacked him hard several times.

“I told you not to scare me like that, Min Yoongi!”

He grinned.  “You must have missed me,” he said, leaning in with a cheekiness only for her.

Mrs. Han was basically his mother.  She had lived in the Min family for years and had moved in with Yoongi when he was finally kicked out of the nest.  She was his only memory of childhood, as she happened to raise him better than his own mother, caring about his health and wellbeing rather than prestige and class.  He loved her dearly, to say the least.

“I actually didn’t at all,” she retorted teasingly.  “The house was quiet for onc