The first time Jeongguk sees Chaeyoung after her death is 30 years later.

“She’s not your Chaeyoung,” Namjoon says as though it’s the simplest thing. Somehow, they’d managed to meet again in this lifetime as friends, memories all still intact and fresh.

Jeongguk thinks it’s a good thing and a bad thing at the same time, because while he isn't alone in this, he doesn’t remember Namjoon being such an in his previous life.

“What are you talking about?” Jeongguk half wants to cry and half wants to laugh at how ridiculous Namjoon sounds, even though he knows what he’s saying sounds ridiculous to himself.

“She looks exactly like her, heck they even have the same smile hyung, so don’t you dare tell me they’re not the same person!”

Namjoon sighs, and Jeongguk’s tears start to spill like a waterfall over his rims.

“She’s a reincarnation, Jeongguk. She doesn’t share the memories the previous Chaeyoung had.”

Jeongguk manages to scoff through his tears. “Do you know how ridiculous you sound right now? Don’t tell me you believe that -”

“I didn’t,” Namjoon says, and there’s an intangible sadness behind his eyes. “Until I met the first and second reincarnations of Seokjin.”

Jeongguk’s sobs quieten and Namjoon pauses for a brief moment before continuing.

“He didn’t remember me, didn’t even know my name,” Namjoon laughs, but Jeongguk know it’s nothing close to happiness.

>

The second time they meet, it’s Jeongguk who doesn’t remember, and he falls in love with a girl with hair as dark as night and eyes as rich as sunset.

Chaeyoung bumps into them on her way out from a bakery in Itaewon.

“Chaeyoung?”

She doesn’t want to believe her eyes. “Jeongguk?”

His confirming smile is as bright as sunrise and her heart burns with jealousy when she realizes how perfect they are for each other.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, hands intertwined with hers and Chaeyoung almost chokes when she sees the matching rings on their fingers.

She exhales shakily. “I live here.”

He pauses. “You left Busan?”

“Yeah,” she nods. “What about you? What are you doing here?” she asks, even though the answer is painfully obvious.

The change of topic leaves him confused for a moment but if he’s suspicious, he doesn’t show it.

“Oh, I’m here with my fiancé-”

Chaeyoung’s pretty sure Jeongguk introduces her but she doesn’t catch her name, or whatever he says after that because the sound of her heart breaking into a million pieces rings too loudly in her ears.

The couple says they’re staying for another 2 days before Jeongguk waves her goodbye, and Chaeyoung smiles as though she’s not planning to never see him again.

When she arrives home later, she buys the earliest flight to London the next day.

>

The third lifetime, they are both unlucky, and don’t cross each other’s path until Jeongguk’s sitting in a wheelchair, visiting Jimin on his death anniversary.

Chaeyoung’s bouquet of flowers are fresh, just like the air around her and the youth in her face, and it’s then that Jeongguk realizes, time had caught up with them differently this time.

“It’s you.”

A voice strikes the silence and Chaeyoung turns to find a familiar face looking just as surprised as she is. Jeongguk blinks, and Chaeyoung’s eyes drift down to his hands gripped around his wheelchair.

“You- you haven’t-”

He doesn’t continue his sentence, but it’s enough for the realization to wash over Chaeyoung in an instant, and the flowers in her hand suddenly feel much heavier than before.

“It’s been a while, Jeongguk,” she says, and forces herself to smile, despite the wrenching in her heart.

He smiles back, and Chaeyoung recognizes it as one of joy, short-lived and plagued with a sense of defeat.

He’s aged, hair no longer shining and dark as she remembered it to be, almost three lifetimes back, but the faded grey still manages to suit him somehow and she’d like to think he has aged beautifully like fine wine.

“How have you been?” she finally asks, and Jeongguk lets out an exhale that sounds a lot like a mix of regret and acceptance to her before replying.

“Lonely,” he smiles sadly, and Chaeyoung has to look away.

>

In the fourth lifetime, Jeongguk departs early, too early for Chaeyoung to handle and she decides to soothe the loss by moving away, far away from the cause of her wounds that have yet to heal, and she doubts will ever heal.

“Too far,” Namjoon corrects, when she greets him at the doorstep of her apartment in Dublin some 10 months later.

She has to fight to keep the tears from her eyes. “Hi oppa.”

“You brat,” he scolds, but it doesn’t stop him from moving forward to take her in a hug anyway.

“, I really missed you,” he mumbles softly, and Chaeyoung can’t hold back on her tears anymore because Namjoon smells like home, like family and company she wished she’d had, when she’d watched the latest reincarnation of Jeongguk lose the battle to cancer this time.

Chaeyoung sobs into his shirt. “I missed you too, oppa.”

She feels Namjoon’s grip around her tighten, and she knows she’s forgiven when he finally pulls away with a faux scowl on his face.

“Next time, leave a note or something. I know I have an IQ of 150, but I’m not Sherlock and I don’t own a ing GPS.”

>

Fate had probably liked the number five, because it’s on a Saturday afternoon that the two of them meet again, finally, at the same age, healthy and not cancer-stricken for God’s sake.

Except fate’s fondness towards the number probably extended only to a certain extent, because Jeongguk finds himself trailing after a certain girl that looked dreamily familiar, yet he couldn’t put a name on no matter how hard he tried.

“Have we met somewhere before?” he manages to say, after recklessly grabbing onto her arm the minute he saw the same overwatch character keychain that he’d coincidentally also had, hanging from the zipper of her bag’s front pocket.

The girl looks stunned for a moment, but actually begins to search for a semblance of familiarity on his face, and Jeongguk can’t stop the rising excitement that takes over his subconscious when he decides to blurt out his name.

“I’m Jeongguk, if that helps.”

She blinks, stilling for a second before as an amused laugh escapes her lips.

“I’m Chaeyoung, and sorry for bursting your bubble, but no, that didn’t help.”

Jeongguk’s mouth drops open, because one, he never knew rejection could actually feel this good and he’s most probably in love with her laugh and two, because Kim Taehyung actually had the audacity to lie straight to Jeongguk’s face, the Jeon Jeongguk, that had zero experience with girls and had trusted Taehyung’s self-acclaimed love expert title and advice. The audacity.

“Stupid Taehyung said this always worked,” he scowls, muttering to himself.

“Who’s Taehyung?” she questions, and he almost forgets she was still there.

“Uh, my friend who told me this line always works on girls,” he explains, before pausing for a second. “Or my soon to be dead friend because that was completely embarrassing and I am going to murder him for it- sorry, I’m just gonna go-”

Jeongguk turns and almost leaves when she reaches out for his wrist.

“Wait,” she calls out, and the speed at which he turns back is frightfully quick.

“Yeah?”

He thinks he sees Chaeyoung smiling shyly at him. “I think… it worked, a little bit.”

Jeongguk’s eyes widen. “Wait, really?”

She laughs. “If I say yes, will you not kill your friend?”

“What,” he sulks, shoulders deflating instantly and she stops trying to hold back a smile.

“I mean, if you get charged for murder, how are you going to take me out for coffee on Monday?”

Jeongguk’s answering smile is as bright as a thousand sunflowers combined despite the apparent redness in his cheeks and Chaeyoung, finding an odd sense of familiarity all of a sudden, decides one coffee date shouldn’t hurt.