The Heartsmith

 

The usual hustle of the streets seemed to take over the city by mid-day, whirring by lowly shacks as the people made their way to their proper destination. Ignoring the small boy who called out to them, as he did each day, a faint smile pulling at his lips as he held out his hands. “Hearts for sale!” He called, the precious items balancing delicately upon his palm as his basket full sat upon the ground beside his feet. “I have quite a few beauties-,” he called, blinking a few times as a man turned towards him.

He was well-off, one could tell by taking in his pressed shirt and suit jacket, his blonde hair being pushed back by a pale hand as he approached. His steps were hesitant, as though he didn’t trust the boy, which would not have been a surprise. Those who had pleasant lives tended to avoid those peddling upon the street. Though he did not seem to be dirty, as most salesmen and women did. No, his ivory hair was styled nicely, tucked behind his ear with a pin as he smiled up at his potential customer. “Would  you like to buy a heart, sir?”

Silence echoed between them for a moment before the male raised a hand to his chest, fingers resting upon his heart gently until the skin began to glow a bright red. His heart rising from his body to balance delicately upon his fingers. “I do not, but do you perhaps fix broken hearts as well?” He questioned as the boy leaned forward to peer at the shattered jewel in his hand.

“I do not,” he replied, reaching down to grab his basket as the man sighed and moved to allow his heart to become one with him again, “but the heartsmith does,” he continued, tucking away his valuables and letting the basket slide onto his arm. “His shop is right down the street, he’ll know what to do.” He chirped before turning and making his way to a new sales spot, hopefully with more customers. Leaving the baffled man behind, his eyes darting after him before dragging back to the streets before him.

The Heartsmith? A peculiar title, though if there was hope then he would hold onto it, Yoongi was at the end of his rope after all.

It was only a few blocks until he came to a shop with the plate reading Heartsmith, his brows cocking and lips releasing a sigh. It was shady after all, and to entrust his heart to someone he did not know, well it made him uneasy. The boy had seem innocent, and small, as one could trust, but as he opened the door to the shop his unease only began to grow.

The heat began to smother the man immediately as he tugged at the collar of his shirt, refusing to loosen his tie, as he did not want to seem improper. “Mr Heartsmith?” He called, seeing only one man in the room, though his back was to the door, which was rude of someone who wished to gain money of their trade.

Though it seemed Yoongi’s voice had caught the males attention as he spun on his chair, tools still within his hand, and goggles pulled down over his face. “Oh- a customer!” He exclaimed, placing his tools on his table before leaping off his chair and striding towards Yoongi who took a few hasty steps back. With a swift tug the goggles were removed, showing a line of ash along the tan skin of the heartsmith. “Sorry, I usually have an apprentice but he was sick today-” he excused with a wave of his hand before bowing his head ever so slightly. “How may I be of service to you?”

Yoongi cleared his throat before extending his arm and uncurling his fingers to expose his battered heart. The center having cracked many times over, and the edges having been torn as well. “I came to have my heart repaired,” he stated, voice firm as he did not wish to looked down upon. Though he quickly became uncomfortable when the other leaned forward to inspect the poor jewel before him.

“This one is in pretty bad shape,” he whispered, brows creasing as Yoongi quickly snatched his arm back, cradling his heart to his chest, though not allowing it to become one with him again.

“So? Can you fix it or not!” He snapped, voice breaking as his shame fought to break free, especially when the mere worker began to laugh.

“I can, it might take a while is all,” he said, extending two gloved hands to take the heart, which Yoongi reluctantly handed over. He had no choice after all.

“That might be a problem, I need it back soon,” he admitted quietly,eyes averting to the ground as the smith gently nudged him.

“What- are you getting married soon?” he teased, only to tense when he received no response, eyes darting up to the others face which had turned a shade of pink. “Oh- oh my… then yes! I will get working on it right away!” He exclaimed, nodding a few times as he placed the heart within an empty stand. “I’m not sure when it will be done, so just stop by whenever is convenient for you,”

Yoongi only nodded, his lips pulled into a thin line as he bowed his head. “Thank you, and may I ask of your name?” He pushed, wanting to know who his heart was in the care of.

“Jimin, Park Jimin, and don’t worry, it’s in good hands.”

 

---

Weeks had seemed to fly by within an instant, what with constant visits to the smith taking over much of Yoongi’s free time. Though Yoongi would admit that he enjoyed his time spent within the shop, with Jimin’s company keeping him relaxed as his wedding day seemed to race forth at an alarming rate.

The time within the shop had also allowed him to meet all sorts of people, such as the sweet couple that pleaded with Jimin to fix their young son’s heart, though they would not be able to pay him. And of course the smith had obliged without argument, turning the heart over within a day in perfect condition. It was truly remarkable to meet such a kind man, especially when he had such a warm smile every time Yoongi wandered into his shop.

This day though Yoongi was tense as he strode down the now familiar streets, his eyes darting to the left when he passed the alley with the salesboy. His lips flickering into a smile for just a moment as he waved to him, having come to know him within the few weeks. The small boy with a broken hearted mother at home and family members lost to a cause he could only dream to join, Jungkook was a pure bpy. With wave of his hand he continued on, entering the heart smith's shop within moments. Coming face-to-face with his apprentice, a male who went by the name of Hoseok. “Yoongi, I see you’re back again today!” he called happily, his gaze falling to the package within his hands as Yoongi walked towards the back.

“Yes, it seems I am.” he breathed before jumping when Jimin’s face appeared in the door was to enter.

“Yoongi!” He called, the tanned face breaking out into a bright smile, eyes seeming to shine as they laid upon the others form. He would admit to himself that he had taken quite a liking to the man who had wandered into his shop only a week or so ago, finding his presence comforting, and his words kind, though his heart was not in his possession. He was rare.

“Jimin, yes, may I come in?” He questioned, watching as the other nodded and quickly moved aside, clearing a chair for the other. “I brought you a cake today-” he added, setting it on one of the cleaner work tables.

Jimin spun quickly, brows having risen to the point that they were nearly hidden by the goggles upon his forehead. “None of my customers have ever brought me something before,” he mumbled as Yoongi opened the box and cut a small piece. The shop having sent along small plates and forks for their use.

“It’s the least I could do for the man repairing my heart,” the nobleman replied with a small grin as he handed a plate to Jimin who had settled upon his work seat, though when he took the plate it seemed that he had become disappointed, the smile coming a tad more forced than it had been before.

“Oh, well, thanks,” he mumbled before taking a bite, brown eyes watching as Yoongi settled within his seat, not before wiping it off though.

“So, how is it?” He asked, gesturing to the plate within Jimin’s hands, not seeming to notice the shift in his expressions.

“It’s delicious!” He chirped, forcing the usual happiness into his voice as he spun to face Yoongi, eyes curled with his smile.

“Ah, I’m glad, so…” he trailed off, trying to think of a proper way to ask what was on his mind. “I meant to ask, but how is it coming along, my heart I mean,” he breathed, gaze locked on his own hands as he leaned forward, elbows pressing against his knees.

Jimin tensed at this, his hands trembling slightly as he set down the cake beside his tools. One hand reaching up to run his sullied hands through his disheveled hair. “You see, I- I’ve run into a problem. Your heart, it’s… well, it’s missing a few pieces.”

To Yoongi it felt as though Jimin had run him through with a sword, his jaw going slack as his  hands lay limp. “So, you can’t fix it?” He asked, voice defeated as his eyes searched for something to lock onto, though it seemed as though everything before him had faded into nothing. “I’ll stay this empty, unable to love… forever?” He pressed, reaching up to rub at his face, trying to force his eyes to focus once again. “My fiance deserves better…”

Jimin had opened his mouth to reply, only to freeze at the last few words that reached his ears. Chest aching for just a moment before he crossed his arms, fingers gripping onto his sleeves tightly to keep them from trembling as he scoffed. “Me? Unable to fix something?” He nearly shouted, trying to disguise the disappointment in his voice. “That’s impossible.”

Yoongi’s eyes, renewed with hope shot up to stare at the worker before him. “Really?” He asked, scared to hope when the other had sounded so defeated just moments ago.

“There’s still something I can do, I will fix it for you.”  He stressed, watching as Yoongi stood and advanced towards him, reaching forward to grab Jimin’s hands, holding them firmly between his own.

“Thank you, so much.” He rasped as Jimin averted his gaze, speaking only once his hands were free and Yoongi began to gather his things. He was of a higher standing in life after all, he had more important things to do than sit in a grimy shop all day.

“Don’t mention it. I’m happy to help such a kind person like you, sir.” He responded as Yoongi neared the door. The other picking up on the sudden formalities but deciding not to mention it.

“I’ll come visit you again tomorrow then!” He called before exiting the workshop and making his way through the entrance lounge, calling a farewell to Hoseok loud enough for Jimin to hear behind the walls.

His hand fluttering higher to rest upon his own chest, the skin above his heart beginning to glow red as the precious item was lifted from his chest. “Let us hope that this is enough.”

 

---

The sun seemed to rise earlier than usual that next morning, and Jimin’s tired eyes rose off his work table when he heard the door to his shop creak open. His fingers aching from being curled around his tools throughout the night, though when he turned and saw Yoongi standing before the door it seemed as though the exhaustion was worth it. “Ah, good morning.” He called, waving his hand in a wave as the other laughed.

“It’s noon,” was the response he received as the guest settled in his chair. Watching as Jimin rolled his eyes and turned back to his table, carefully lifting the male’s heart from the box beside his current job.

At the sight Yoongi leapt to his feet once again, staring at it with narrowed eyes, approaching Jimin carefully as he held out the heart. “You actually fixed it?” He asked in disbelief as the heartsmith laughed.

“I told you I would, didn’t I?” Jimin pressed as Yoongi took his heart back into his hands, the warmth radiating off it being stronger than he had ever felt before. Slowly he raised it to his chest and allowed it to meld back, to become whole once again.

Almost immediately the warmth spread through his being, stronger than he had ever felt before, even when his heart had been unscathed by the pains of the world. “It’s amazing!” He sputtered, eyes shining with delight as he looked towards Jimin who stood, shoulders hunched with what Yoongi took to be exhaustion. “I can feel my heart overflowing,” he continued with a small laugh, “I’m sure my fiance will be happy!”

Jimin merely nodded, looking aside as he whispered, “Ah, I am sure she will be.” he whispered before jumping when he felt Yoongi grasp his arm.

“I expect I will see  you at my wedding?” He pressed, staring into Jimin’s' eyes as he sighed.

“Of course,” he forced out before patting the other’s chest once. “Now go on, I have work to do.” He chided, watching as Yoongi nodded and bounded out, happy to feel whole once again.

Though once the door slid closed Jimin did not turn back to his work and instead pulled off his goggles and dropping them atop his desk, scooping the work he had been focused upon into his hands and dragging himself towards the back door as Hoseok peeked in.

“Jimin?” he called, “Are you going to rest finally?” He asked, only to groan when the smith instead exited the shop. Not going after him, and instead turning back to his own desk and allowing the door to swing shut.

The sun was blocked by the building, allowing Jimin to properly see the alley before him as he collapsed onto the blocks of hay that lay before him. Knowing they were to be delivered by the shop next door but not caring as he curled forward, pressing his forehead against his knees.

His eyes burned with tears as he cradled the small heart close to his chest, trying to ignore the pain that radiated through his being. Doing his best not to cry, and to instead feel happy for the kind man who had wandered into his shop one day. Refusing to admit that he had begun to care for him as more than a customer.

“Oh, you again,” he suddenly heard tutted from above, thin fingers pressing his shoulders back until he could see the familiar face of the heart peddler before him. “Poor little heartsmith,” he cooed, fixing the pieces of his hair that had fallen out of place. “Why do you always do this to yourself, share pieces of your own heart with others?” he asked, using his sleeve to wipe away his tears.

“Look who’s talking!” Jimin snapped, looking away in shame of his tears, “How can you sell hearts when you don’t have one of your own?” He asked, voice soft, sorry for having snapped at the boy who he had doted upon as though he were his brother for years before opening up his measly shop.

“None of those hearts fit me,” he huffed, nose wrinkling as he looked down at his basket, the red glow taunting him.

“None?” Jimin mumbled, his hands falling into his lap, as he let out a sigh and uncurled his fingers to reveal the heart that belonged within his own chest, shrunken due to the pieces that he had given over the years. “I see, then, would what’s left of this heart fit?” he asked, glancing up at Jungkook's face as he shook his head.

“I cannot take what’s left of your heart!” he snapped, only to stumble back when Jimin pushed his arms forward.

“It will no longer fit me, so please, take my heart.” he whispered, voice breaking as Jungkook froze.

“You’re sure? You’re giving me your heart-” he whispered, watching as the tears began to fall from Jimin’s face once again. Cleaning the tanned skin as they fell.

“Thank you Jimin,” he whispered before throwing himself into his arms, hugging the male tightly, his own tears beginning to fall. Though if they were for mourning the male before him or in happiness for finally having a heart that would fit him, Jungkook was unsure if he’d ever know.

 

---

The dusty book fluttered to a close as the boy let out a small sigh, fingernails tracing the pattern along the cover as his doctor walked in. The white of his coat matching the sterile room in which he had been locked in for months without end.

“Tomorrow is your big day, how are you feeling?” He asked, his name tag glinting in the sunlight that peeked through the window as the sun set over the cityline. Min Yoongi the only friend he had over the trials and failed tests.

Jungkook did not respond and merely turned his head to stare out at the city. “You’re lucky that we found you a donor for your heart in time.”

“Yes,” he breathed, looking back towards the book on his lap, “The heartsmith is very kind.”

“Who?” The doctor asked, leaning forward, wondering if he had heard him wrong.

“It’s okay, people don’t remember him, even those he helped, but I will always remember him.” he whispered, holding the book to his chest.

The name scrawled across the back being that of a man who he had shared his room with. Who had kept him smiling through the hardest times, saying again and again that a hospital was no place for a kid. Who had flatlined two days before, the doctor having said that it was due to lung failure, but Jungkook knew it was of a broken heart. And even if the heart he was to receive was damaged, he would be forever grateful to his heartsmith.

Park Jimin.