2.9

Years later, whenever Namjoon happened to think back to that period, he could not help but recognize that the winter of his first – and only – year at the Kim household had probably been the best one spent under their roof, despite its complications and the huge amount of work.

The merit was most of Seokjin, his number one, but it had been that afternoon spent with him at the recreation center what had ended up conquering Namjoon completely, breaking down the last defences he had tried to raise around his convictions. To the point that, as a result of that episode, every time that Namjoon would look at the elder, he could not find a single reason not to have feelings, very consistent feelings, for Seokjin.

That Saturday morning at the center had been very hectic and chaotic because there were many things to prepare for their little guests to have fun; it had been noisy, once the children with their voices and laughter filled the space, however, it had also been very funny and ended up leaving him a sense of warm satisfaction when they returned home.

In any case, that day, Seokjin, together with another couple of volunteers, had immediately offered to help the teachers build the tent to house the painting workshop for the children inside the patio of the building. Namjoon would have liked to help, but once it became clear that manual skills weren't his forte, it was decided unanimously to leave him the task of welcoming the parents.

The young man had been mortified, but Seokjin had done his best to reassure him that no one was judging him, and he was right. No one had seemed annoyed or irritated, even after he had almost knocked down the content of the jars as soon as he had put his hands on them, which normally would have not been a problem in itself, considering that the day would have ended beautifully if they were covered in colourful paint from head to toe – hair included – but it wouldn’t have been nice if he had wasted it before the children could  even put (literally) their hands on it .

In fact, the laboratory hadn't been set up as a lesson, but rather as an opportunity for children to be creative and have the chance to express their ideas freely.

Within an hour the parents began to arrive and Namjoon made them sit down, trying to smile and be polite in an attempt to do his best. He hoped that he didn’t look too awkward, but the beaming smile that Seokjin had given him when he saw him working hard, had been enough to relieve him of his personal feeling of embarrassment.

The workshop began, the children listened carefully to the instructions and chose their theme with great care, but as soon as they were given a brush in their hands the chaos broke loose. The volunteers and Seokjin did their best to keep everyone from being stained all over, but Namjoon saw that they were actually having fun too. He had noticed more than a few adults looking at the children with something nostalgic in their eyes as they plunged their hands into the colored paint and pressed it onto the canvas. Still, some others, especially among the parents who had stayed, looked at their children with something akin to sadness.

Namjoon looked away and felt rather relieved when a child asked him for other brushes since they were all dirty. It gave him the opportunity to hide in the bathroom with the excuse of having to wash some of them and fill the jars with clean water.

He had expected children and laughter and noise, he had not expected to feel a lot of other things.

It was known that numbers zero weren't allowed to pursue artistic activities, but he had never felt real sympathy for them as he had just felt in that moment. He tried to imagine a world in which he was forbidden to love music and the thought took his breath away. Above all because that world was not so different from his current reality, from what the Kims had imposed on him in the name of a greater benefit. Because was he, a number two, really that different from any other number zero in that recreation center? Even he was not allowed to pursue his dream, and that was a deep pain that Namjoon understood all too well.

It was this pain that had infected his every thought and made it so difficult for him to trust Seokjin, and for the simple fact that he was a Kim.

"We encourage integration and we always hope that everyone feels free to sign up for our courses, but yes, most of these children are numbers zero."

Namjoon jumped so violently that he almost knocked out the entire set of brushes. Fortunately, the elderly lady, the same one that had interrupted the thread of his thoughts, was quick to come to his aid, preventing him from making another disaster.

"Sorry, I'm very clumsy," Namjoon said, embarrassed.

"Don't worry, it's not your fault. If anything it's mine, for taking you by surprise," she replied, picking up the jar already filled with water, so that it wouldn't hinder him and he could finish rinsing off the brushes.

"Thank you," Namjoon answered when he noticed she was helping him. His shoulders, however, had suddenly become tense, trying to understand if there was a meaning behind that encounter.

Seokjin had told him that old lady was the director of the center, and considering how well they had greeted each other, Namjoon deduced the lady and Seokjin were in good terms. However, the elder hadn't told him if the staff in there knew that he, both of them actually, were numbers two, and Namjoon didn't want to put Seokjin's position in danger by talking too much.

He didn't remember ever having seen the older as comfortable and as carefree as he was then working as a volunteer. It was a joy for the eyes.

"He's a good guy. Seokjin, I mean. He's really hard-working and takes good care of the children, young and old. We all love him here," the lady continued, her sincerity evident in her tone. Namjoon closed the tap, and for a moment he felt incredibly sad thinking that Seokjin had felt the need to hide this, to hide this from everyone. The best part of him.

"I found out about this place only today," Namjoon admitted, impulsively. The old lady's words hadn't been said at all as an attempt to reproach him, but the younger felt guilty anyway. The director smiled kindly.

"Seokjin is a reserved boy. He wandered around here for several days, but as he kept hesitating to get in, I realized that he needed encouragement, so I invited him in. He immediately told me that he did not want to disturb me, as if he feared we would judge him for not being a number zero. It took me a cup of tea and a whole cake to convince him to try volunteering," she said with another smile. Then, with a full tone of understanding, she added, "what many people don't understand is that this place is not a community center of numbers zero, this is a meeting place for anyone who wants to have a place to return."

The director knew. They all knew about their status, but nobody cared. That old lady had succeeded in creating a microcosm of peace with a simple recreational center.

Namjoon tried to imagine Seokjin entering the building, he tried to imagine the expression on his face and the feelings that had pushed him to come. And even if he could not understand what was behind the feeling that had brought him in, he could deduce the reason why he stayed. The ridiculous and high-pitched laugh coming from the outside patio was quite an answer.

"I'm his number one." Namjoon then said, as if he was admitting a crime. They had not been perfect soulmates for each other, both had had their shortcomings, but the younger felt like he had done more things that needed to be forgiven compared to Seokjin.

"I know. It's enough to see how you look at each other,” she answered with a laugh, leaving him in awe. Namjoon wanted to ask how exactly they looked at each other, suddenly the answer seemed vital, yet she preceded him.

"We all feel a bit confused at least once in a lifetime, Namjoon. Suffering is not the prerogative of anyone." she concluded, before turning around and leaving him alone with his thoughts.

Later on, on their bus ride back home, Seokjin told him that the director had been a number two.

Namjoon had a lot of questions to ask him then, but looking at Seokjin's relaxed face, he decided that he did not want to ruin that moment. After all, Seokjin had never asked him why he loved music, why it was so vital to him, but he had accepted the fact as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Namjoon told himself that he would do the same, that Seokjin had the right to have his reasons and not to have to explain to him, especially if this did him good.

Never, in his miserable sixteen years of life, he had felt the need to protect and take care of someone as he had felt for Seokjin that afternoon. And every day that followed from that moment. The older was strong, he was exceptional and didn't need the clumsy and weak Namjoon to defend him, but he still found in himself the desire to do so.

Or perhaps it had been since the time Seokjin had come into his room to tell him that there was nothing wrong with him, with his scepticism and sadness of odd number two and that they could still talk about their dreams. And their fears.

There were many things that Namjoon still did not know about Seokjin, but it was evident that despite the golden life that the Kim name inspired, Seokjin harboured, and perhaps still carried, a deep wound. He recalled Hyosang's words of how close the two cousins were and how often they would tell each other stories about their misdeeds, which weren't that bad at all, if not for the fact that they had disobeyed the rigid and cruel rules of that house.

The truth was that Seokjin had trusted him from the beginning and had continued doing so despite everything, succeeding into breaking down his walls with the force of his perseverance.

It was only natural for Namjoon to end up falling headfirst for the person that was Kim Seokjin, and in hindsight he was almost amazed that it had taken him so long to realize it.

When the doctor had diagnosed him not with disturbance of attention but with an IQ above the average, the man had told his mother that a brain like his, if not well addressed, could have become a painful burden. He had been right, even if not in the sense that the doctor had originally implied. The burden laid in the fact that being so good at collecting data and analysing them, had caused him to lose the disenchantment of innocence almost immediately, replaced too soon by a veil of scepticism that overshadowed everything and everyone.

The beliefs to which we hold onto with such a fierce grip don't make any noise when they fall, yet their absence is immediately felt. But empty spaces existed to be filled, and that space was now all of Jin.

It had been inevitable then, from that fateful afternoon onwards, to spend as much time as possible with him, as if they couldn't help themselves from gravitating into the each other's orbit, Seokjin’s presence turning into a relief, especially considering the subsequent facts.

Time passed, autumn faded early into winter, Jin's cotton sweaters were replaced by soft wool sweaters that suited him wonderfully, so much that it had been difficult for Namjoon to not be stunned by him every single time. It was terrible realizing how every little thing Jin did could distract him or make him blush, and Namjoon would have liked to bang his head against a wall, even if for a different reason than the initial one.

In any case, that winter didn’t bring just the new exuberant feelings towards Jin, but also other unexpected consequences, because naturally in that house you could never enjoy peace for too long. Making things difficult was, as Hyosang had said, the talent of the Kim family.

When Namjoon had decided to ignore Miss Choi's messages, he had thought it could have not been that important, she probably wanted to schedule yet another boring meeting with him, and that could have waited. Spending time with Seokjin that day had been far more important than anything the Kim family intended to share with him.

However, he had certainly not expected a request like the one he was asked to do.

"The Kim family is very happy with your results. You have passed all the medium-term examinations with full marks and have even concluded some courses."

Namjoon nodded, trying to figure out where she was headed to with that speech. The Kim family didn't usually give compliments for nothing. Besides, the only reason why Namjoon had anticipated some exams was because he had hoped to earn some free time in the second semester and certainly not in an attempt to impress them.

"The consul Kim in particular has expressed his confidence in your skills. In fact, he told me that he would like to encourage you to continue in this direction."

Namjoon could not help but contract his jaw, because he really couldn't believe they were suggesting what he suspected, but in any case it was better to find out before going on a rampage.

"I don't think I understand." he said, even though he had understood very well.

"Try to do as many first year exams as possible, Namjoon. Of course this means that you and I won't meet until the exams session is over, we want to give you plenty of time to do it."

If Namjoon didn't curse, it was only because his parents had given him a excellent education.

What he did, instead, was standing up and getting out of the library, not caring about Miss Choi's calls. To say he was furious would have been an euphemism. What kind of opinion did the Kim family have of him? Yet another proof of how little they cared about his feelings and his time, too busy to find new ways to exploit him as if he were a machine that they could program and reprogram at their will or a trophy to show to the public.

Namjoon marched straight into his room, ignoring the looks of the entourage and closing the door behind him.

Seokjin had knocked on his door shortly after, perhaps he had heard the news directly from the Kims, or perhaps he had simply become good at guessing when he was feeling down.

"Namjoon, can I come in?" he asked, as if he didn't want to step on those boundaries that others had not even deigned to recognize. They had become close enough to be able to come and go as they pleased from their rooms, but Seokjin had always preferred to give him his space, the possibility of saying no. This was the reason why Namjoon let him in without hesitation.

"They asked you to do something, didn't they?" Seokjin asked, as if he already knew who had put him in the corner. Namjoon wondered how many times in the past the elder had encountered such troubles, probably enough times to be able to recognize the signals from afar.

Once he heard his words, Namjoon, who was still standing in front of the window and gripping the border violently, finally managed to let go.

Seokjin took the opportunity to take him by the hand and guide him to the kitchen, as they tried to finish together what was left of the sweets and the cake of the morning. In front of a hot chocolate, Namjoon finally told him everything and the older listened to every word, even promising to talk with his mother to see if it was possible to do something. The younger had noticed how Seokjin’s lower lip had trembled slightly in a clear indication of anger. Perhaps Seokjin was angrier than what he allowed the others to see.

He had proof of this when he later heard the door slamming somewhere in the villa, followed by Seokjin's polemic voice as he had never heard before. Shortly thereafter, a call from Mr. Kim arrived on Namjoon's cellphone to seal his fate, and as he realized how he had no other choice, he also realized that Seokjin had, once again, taken his side. That night, it was not Seokjin that came to his room, but Namjoon, who had slipped under the blankets next to him. He wondered why he hadn't done it before, because the sheets were soaked in that natural personal smell of Seokjin that he liked so much and put him so much at ease.

The elder made room for him and laid down on one side, so that they could face each other, his pupils catching the dim light of the street lamps and shining in the darkness.

"I'm so sorry, Joon." Seokjin told him in a whisper. Namjoon didn't hesitate to throw his arms to encircle the older's shoulders and flush their bodies together. It was frightening how much Seokjin fit perfectly under his chin.

That strange winter was then spent in endless study sessions and sleepless nights, but also in the warm company of Jin.

The latter forced him to take breaks from time to time, even though Namjoon’s brain, being pushed to new limits, seemed to never want to turn off.

The truth was that he had discovered that doing what they had asked him wasn't so impossible, he was able to devour books after books and push his mind to store an infinite amount of information in a limited time. Namjoon was afraid, however, that making this fact clear would put him even more in trouble, because if they had found out that not even that was enough of a challenge, then what else could they ask him to do?

If Seokjin had noticed this thing, he didn't mention it to him, but instead tried to make him change environment as often as possible. Even if they had to study or give the semblance of doing so, Namjoon said to himself, it did not mean that they had to do it in the mansion. Very often the elder took him to the college library, or when it was possible to Hyosang's, where they could breathe a bit and have more freedom, as Namjoon later deducted.

"You're so close that watching you interact makes me sick," Hyosang jokingly commented, putting a pencil over his ear and crossing his hands behind his head, as he took advantage of the fact that Seokjin had gone to the nearest store to stock them with unhealthy food to be more impertinent. If Seokjin had been there, nothing would have prevented him from throwing a rubber at his head.

Namjoon had wondered why Hyosang, even though he was a Kim, had always looked more affable compared to the family standards, but he soon realized that the Kim house of that branch of the family was less somber than the mansion, and as Hyosang lived in the dependance, separated from the main household, he enjoyed some privacy.

He also realized why this had been Seokjin's shelter whenever he had felt suffocated.

Namjoon merely shook his head as he finished drawing some elaborate doodles on his clipboard.

"Thanks for listening to me last time," Hyosang added after a while. Namjoon's hand froze as he lifted his face to look into his cousin's eyes. Hyosang was a very special person. He looked relaxed and always ready to joke, but he also had moments in which he abandoned his habitual mask to let out a more serious part of his personality that never failed to unsettle Namjoon.

"To tell you the truth, I'm afraid I did very little. It's all Seokjin's merit, he is the one who has always put the most effort."

"Now now, don't belittle yourself, Namjoon. Sometimes, wrongly so, I forget you're younger than us. Perhaps you will object that three years are not that many. But believe me, at sixteen I was a disaster, and if I'm less of disaster now it's only because my soulmate patched me up." Hyosang said, making Namjoon smile. He then continued seriously, "The Kim family often pretends things without ever giving anything back, and with you they just started doing it. You are only strong if you stay together. Perhaps when your time will finally come, you and Seokin will manage to blow away the shadow that has long loomed over this family."

"Do you really think that's possible?"

"I thought I could trust Jin alone. But I also trust you, Namjoon. So yes, I really believe that in the long run you will be able to make the difference," Hyosang concluded with conviction. Namjoon felt suddenly warm all over. He didn't feel like sharing Hyosang's optimism, but he was glad to know he had another ally among the Kims. Maybe he was less lonely than what he had originally thought.

Seokjin returned shortly after, bags full of drinks, chips and popcorn that couldn't be normally found in any Kim house. Maybe it was the big amount of food, or rather the lack of sleep, that had ended up knocking him down. After what had seemed like mere minutes but that in reality had been two solid hours, Namjoon felt himself being shaken.

"Namjoon, wake up!"

It was Seokjin, bending over him so close that Namjoon had to stop himself from jumping away, but he was sure he was blushing. "Maybe it's time we go home." Seokjin suggested as the younger raised his head. Someone, surely Jin, had put a pillow under his cheek, thus sparing him a stiff neck. Looking around and blinking for a moment to chase away the sleep, Namjoon noticed that Hyosang was not there.

Almost reading his mind, a practice that among them was becoming a habit, Seokjin said, "Hyosang is on the phone with his number one. He invited us to dinner, but we can go back if you want.” Namjoon nodded absent-mindedly, but as he felt a slight sigh coming from Seokjin’s lips, he understood that there was something else to it. In fact, when he turned to look at him, he saw his frowned expression.

"Did something happen?"

Seokjin looked at him as if he were uncertain about how to formulate what he had to say.

"Yoongi called you before, but you were so deeply asleep that not even your phone's ringtone woke you up. Since he called you a second time, I just replied to tell him to call later," Seokjin said, while Namjoon was digesting his words. Seokjin seemed perplexed, perhaps even a little embarrassed, and he didn't understand why, the fact that he had answered for him was nothing to worry about. Unless Yoongi had said anything else, and Namjoon wondered what, considering that Yoongi was far from being a communicative person.

"I might have invited him to come here or even to our house if he preferred," but before Namjoon could add anything, Seokjin continued, "I felt like he really needed to talk to you."

A strange silence fell between them as the elder scrutinized his face, looking for an answer, while Namjoon tried to refrain himself from rubbing a hand across his face.

With all he had to do in preparation of the exam session, even though some just to keep up appearances, Namjoon had had little time to devote to his best friend. His notebooks, on which he used to write his lyrics, laid empty in the far corner of his desk. He had to say no many times to Yoongi’s invitations to hang out or play music.

If he was indeed happy with his flourishing relationship with Seokjin, he was also aware that this had caused some distance between his best friend and him. Namjoon was more sorry than what he was able to express into words, and although his life was complicated, he was sure that Yoongi's was not any better.

"And what did he say?" Namjoon asked, since Seokjin had not mentioned that detail.

"He didn't seem enthusiastic about it." Seokjin admitted, and Namjoon had the impression that he was minimizing the reply he had received. Namjoon smiled.

"Yoongi doesn't like institutions very much. I think he sees the mansion as a consular extension," he tried to explain, even though apparently there was no need for such since he heard the other mumble a 'he is not even wrong', which made his smile even wider.

"Thanks anyway for trying. I would have preferred if he had accepted, though." Namjoon added, trying to suppress a sigh. Yoongi who, like a wild animal, still fought in search of a way out even though he had met a dead end.

"Can I ask you if everything is alright between the two of you? It's hard not to notice that you're worried about him, and while I don't want to intrude in your friendship, I'd like to know if I can help you in any way. I don't know Yoongi well, but I would like if he allowed me to. I know he is important to you." Seokjin said, leaning his chin on his entwined hands, lips protruding in disappointment at the evidence that he couldn't do more. Namjoon forced himself to look away from those tempting lips and focus.

"It's complicated.” he managed to say. He knew he could trust Seokjin, but he didn't know if Yoongi would have approved of him revealing even the little he felt like telling the older, besides he wondered if this wouldn't, instead, end up causing Seokjin pain. They had started on the wrong foot and Seokjin had surely wondered about the reasons of his resistance. Knowing what exactly he had always had in common with Yoongi, maybe would have harmed their fresh new bond.

"If he sounded rude to you, I know that Yoongi can look quite unfriendly when he wants, I hope you didn't take it personally. Yoongi, he’s… facing a difficult phase."

It was evident that Seokjin would have liked to ask what Namjoon meant with those words, but he cared too much about the others' privacy, perhaps because everyone had so often stepped over his boundaries, to dare to ask.

"If you need me to cover up for you so that you can sneak out and see him, I'll gladly do it." Seokjin said sincerely. It was impossible then for Namjoon to not hold the older's hand with passion and squeeze his fingers gently. If Hyosang hadn't arrived at that exact moment, Namjoon would have probably done something else, like holding the older in his arms and capturing those lips in a kiss.

"Keep going, please, do as if I were not here." Hyosang said, coming back into the living room and making Namjoon want to throw something at him. Judging by Seokjin's gaze, the latter seemed inclined to do so himself.

Hyosang had come to tell them that his soulmate was on his way and that she would have liked for the four of them to have dinner together, and that was why in the end they decided to stay longer.

Once upon a time, something like that, finding himself in the same room with other Kims and among soulmates, would have made him uncomfortable, yet Namjoon discovered he no longer felt like that.

Hyosang’s soulmate was a nice girl as bubbly as Hyosang himself, but also a very determined person, perfectly able to keep the exuberant sides of her partner at bay. Namjoon naturally found himself thinking that those two looked perfect like only soulmates could.

In that moment, a pang of discomfort hit him so strongly that it was almost unbearable.

He thought of his old self, of how he used to think that the soulmate system was completely illogical and about how a tiny part of him still doubted.

But above all, he thought of Yoongi, of how his best friend had never even mentioned the name of the person that was supposed to be his perfect half.

That winter, Namjoon succeeded in overcoming almost all the exams of the first year. The few that were advanced were the only ones he hadn’t been able to squeeze in his timetable in any way.

Such a success had as its first immediate consequence a celebratory dinner, to which Namjoon hadn't wanted to participate, but to which he was forced anyway since his parents were going to be there. The only positive note was that, even if he was not at all comfortable with the rest of his relatives (except for Hyosang and his soulmate), the party included only the Kim family, plus it signed the end of his period of imprisonment and a newfound freedom.

Now that he had demonstrated his skills, the Kims seemed more inclined to loosen the sweaters with which he and Seokjin were held back, finally letting him be able to devote himself to something else, and in particular to spend time with his friend Yoongi.

The last time they had managed to see his best friend, Yoongi had seemed more taciturn than usual, and even if he had finally capitulated and had taken the step of visiting Namjoon at the Kim mansion, the older had seemed tense for all the duration of his visit and they had awkwardly talked about music just to fill the gaps. Yoongi had also talked to Seokjin that time, and even though he had kindly answered his questions and asked some back to Seokjin too, it was evident that Jin's presence seemed to make him uncomfortable.

Namjoon wondered if he would ever be able to smooth out the many obstacles that seemed t to be between those two, because ironically, Yoongi had been more friendly with Seokjin when Namjoon still didn't know what to do with that new bond, whereas now that he had learned to appreciate what they had, it seemed like an unbearable thing for Yoongi.

Namjoon could try to imagine the terrible dilemma his best friend was experiencing, but if that behavior continued, he told himself, sooner or later he would have to face Yoongi about it.

The second consequence of his success had repercussions in his university life.

Suddenly, and to his great displeasure since that was not the kind of attention he had desired, he was on everyone's lips as a new prodigy, not only of the entire faculty of economics, but of the entire university. More often than he wished, many looked at him as insistently as they did when it came to Seokjin, the actual heir. Many had even approached him, asking for advice and asking him to tutor them. Namjoon would have willingly given the first, but didn't know if he would have been able to do the second thing.

However, it was the university that decided for him, when, without even asking his opinion on the matter, they appointed him as representative of the freshmen to the open day dedicated to the students of the last year of high school.

Namjoon tried to console himself with the fact that it would be like practising in view of his future role, but the thought, instead of encouraging him, only managed to further depress him. The consular future, whatever were the hopes Hyosang placed in them, seemed to Namjoon like a terrifying nightmare.

Seokjin did his best to cheer him up by saying that he was perfect for the role and that no one could answer the questions better than him. Namjoon, on the one hand, agreed that he could probably understand their uncertainty. However, he was not sure if he would succeed at not shouting at them to flee off the economy department as soon as possible. He was convinced that someone who had not chosen this path willingly was the worst testimonial ever, yet here he was, appointed to the position.

So that day at the end of February, he dressed up in a more formal way than his usual college attire, and once he got to the university gate, he walked down the lane that lead to the auditorium instead of the classrooms.

Fortunately he was spared from having to deliver a speech. Most of the words of welcome were spoken by the faculty chairman and senior students, while he simply sat in the corner of the stage for his deep relief. However, since Namjoon was the youngest and still freshly high school graduated, he was the one assigned to the stand of his faculty to answer the inquiries of curious students after the various groups were organized in mini-tours of the university.

Contrary to his fears, no one asked him too difficult questions. Most of the people asked him how many credits the course had or how many subjects were eligible for the first year, or even what was the basic level required to comfortably follow the lessons, all questions that could be answered by reading the pamphlet that Namjoon eagerly gave them. No one seemed interested in asking him more personal questions, such as why he had chosen that faculty, or whether he enjoyed it enough to recommend it. Namjoon was intimately grateful to all of them.

At that pace, however, the day was going to be boring and quiet and he almost regretted having worried so much the days before.

His gaze wandered throughout the great hall. There were numerous groups of young high school students, some looked at the informative material, many talked among themselves and made their own business. Others still tried, not very furtively, to eat something unobtrusively. But his eye fell on a solitary figure instead.

He would have been a boy like many others if it had not been for the fact that he was the only one to move unaccompanied. In a reality like theirs, in which everyone did their best to never give the impression of being alone, that boy like many others stood out in the crowd as if he had harsh neon light pointed at him.

It was imprudent and not advisable because, as Namjoon had noticed, others could have suspected him of being a number zero, but this boy didn't seem to care, and none of his peers seemed to care for him as well, as if he were invisible. Namjoon felt a thrill of curiosity, and since he had nothing else to do but sit there being asked trivial questions, he waited for the boy to get closer before getting up and approaching him.

"Hi, can I help you?" Namjoon was not a proactive person at all, and he hoped he had not seemed too self-conscious. The boy looked surprised that someone was addressing him and for a moment he was lost, even wary.

"I was just looking around a bit. Actually both the opening speech and the pamphlet were very useful," the boy said, waving the latter as if to underline the concept.

"I see. If you have any other questions, I'm here to answer you," Namjoon said. He didn't know what was pushing him to offer him exactly what he had tried to avoid all morning, but something in the halo of sadness that hovered all around the boy, had reminded him a little himself. It had also reminded him of Yoongi, of how he looked so self-indulgent behind the mask of indifference with which he liked to disguise himself.

The boy seemed taken aback and his gaze wandered over his face, as if he were studying it. Something in Namjoon's face seemed to convince him.

"I have questions, but in reality I don't believe you or someone else would be able to answer them. After all, it has already been decided that I will study business regardless," the boy said, but as soon as those words escaped from his mouth he seemed to regret having said them, and Namjoon saw the shadow of panic in his eyes.

The only reason why a person could have enrolled in the economy department with no way out, unless he was a Kim like him, was because he was a number zero and was therefore forbidden to enroll in humanistic or artistic faculties. Although Namjoon was a number two, there was no one inside those walls who could understand the impossibility of having a better choice than him.

As well as the need to accept a fate that he detested.

"Perhaps economy was not your choice, but it is how you decide to face it. It's a small thing, but doing your best can help making feel you better," Namjoon said. They weren't exactly words of comfort, because there was nothing that could alleviate the frustration and bitterness of having to submit to something for total lack of alternatives, but he hoped they could help a bit.

The boy seemed to weigh his words, Namjoon saw his shoulders relax slightly as his lips stretched out in a shy smile that had managed to completely change his facial expression. Suddenly he was no longer an ordinary boy.

"It's a point of view. Thank you... Namjoon.” the boy said, looking at his name on his badge.

"You're welcome...?"

"Jimin," the boy answered. "I hope we will meet again next semester." he said, before turning around and leaving.

Namjoon felt a bit content watching how the boy was now smiling.

I hope so too, Namjoon told himself before returning to his place.

There was a third consequence to his success, one that Namjoon had not expected in the least and that, like all the unexpected events, had ended up hitting him so hard that it took his breath away.

It happened a few days after the open day, when Namjoon had his defences lowered down and was enjoying the days of well-deserved rest and especially Seokjin. In those days, in fact, his only concern was to mend his relationship with Yoongi and, above all, to try to resist the ever stronger temptation that his number one represented.

He knew what it was, that feeling, he knew, and if Seokjin was the consolation of having a fate he could not choose from, he wondered if it would be enough to fill his loss, if he would be able to accept it.

Then one afternoon in late February, Miss Choi told him that Consul Kim would wait for him after class for a meeting. Namjoon did not find it unusual because it was not the first time they had found themselves face to face.

What he found strange was that Mr. Kim didn't wait for him in the office of the villa, but outside the university main gate in one of the government cars.

"Sir, I wasn't expecting you here." Namjoon said as soon as he was seated inside. He suddenly felt nervous and he also had a bad feeling.

"Good afternoon, Namjoon. I know you weren't expecting me here, but today we will take a special trip." he said, smiling. Somehow, that smile wasn't reassuring at all.

"I don't understand sir." Namjoon said, and for once, he really had no idea. It was starting to scare him.

"Some time ago you asked me what was the coefficient of the algorithm. It’s time for you to know the answer. You've worked hard, it seems right.” Mr. Kim said, before answering a phone call.

Nervous as ever but with his curiosity aroused, Namjoon settled on the seat, wondering if he should say something to Seokjin or wait to figure out how long it would take before warning the elder. They had agreed to go out just the two of them. It was a new thing and therefore Namjoon had anticipated that evening a lot.

The car started to move as the vehicle took the road that led to the city center. As he looked out the window, Namjoon wondered what he should expect, if it was just another test and if he was really going to see the source of everything.

When they reached the government buildings shortly afterwards, he told himself that he should have expected it to be so simple, for the answer to be hidden under the nose of everyone and where it was most obvious that it was positioned and for this reason unsuspected.

They got out of the car surrounded by bodyguards, and when the Consul Kim lead him to the only elevator of the entire government building that descended, Namjoon realized that he would soon see the machine, the big computer that from a ground floor developed the world two’s algorithm.

The sun had almost set when Namjoon emerged, the reflection of the light hurting his eyes a little after all that time spent in rooms that were lit only by the light emanating from computers. Or maybe not, maybe his vision was fallacious because he was doing everything in his power to not give in to the primordial instinct of crying. But he could not collapse, not there in front of the government building, he probably could never afford to do that any time soon.

Somehow, he had the clarity to take the phone and send a message to Jin to warn him that he would not come back due to another engagement that had held him back. It seemed horrible to have to use his best friend as an excuse, but he didn't think he could look at Seokjin in the face without collapsing on the spot.

There was a car right in front of the entrance that was waiting for him, Namjoon slipped inside giving precise instructions to the driver to take him to a place where he had never been, but that had the advantage of not being the Kim mansion.

He could not go back to his house, he could not go back to the Kims. In fact, he didn't have a place to come back to. The one that came to his mind was the only place he felt he had no right to claim asylum, now that he was aware of the truth and also of how he would never – never – be able to reveal it, even if it ended up consuming him slowly to the core.

The driver stopped in front of Yoongi's house and left as soon as Namjoon got out of the car. He saw curtain movements from Yoongi's house and knew he had been seen.

He had never entered his house because his best friend had never invited him, and yet when Namjoon approached his entrance, Yoongi did not hesitate to open the door.

"Namjoon?" his friend called him, uncertain. Yoongi was there in front of him, and his unhappiness was so obvious that Namjoon didn't know if he could bear his sight.

He wanted to collapse and tell him everything, to share with someone the burden as his friend had done that time in that park, in which Yoongi overtaken by the weight of his guilt had finally collapsed. Only that Namjoon knew that maybe that guilt was not entirely his.

However, to love someone, to really love someone meant to take upon yourself the responsibility of the lies as well as the weight of a guilty silence.

"Let's go inside.” Yoongi said, grabbing him by the sleeve and dragging him in.

The door closed behind them, and as he followed Yoongi inside, Namjoon thought of Jin and how, just when he discovered that he loved, it was also when he had discovered that he had to lose everything.