Fitting into Jin’s casual clothes was an experience. He was tall, lanky and slim, and because he wore hanbok most of the time he didn’t have all that much to choose from. Some jeans, including a seriously ripped pair he called ‘date clothes’. Jimin was halfway into a luxurious pyjama set before his new mentor rescued him and explained that they were just for lounging around the house. In the end, clad in a pair of sweatpants and a voluminous sweater that ran down to his thighs, Jimin was technically dressed, and just as technically convinced that in this world he was a fat, lazy slob with thunder thighs and a woman’s . The muscles gotten over a lifetime of hiking around the mountain meant nothing in the top; Jin had shoulders like a woodcutter, leaving him looking like a kid playing grownup dress games.

 

He tried not to hyperventilate as they left the complex and he could see the city for the first time. It rose around them like a slumbering giant, lit so well that the night was bright and he couldn’t see the stars anymore. The artificial light was at a frequency that stung at his eyes, and he had to open and close them a few times to adapt.

 

The complex included a temple and the ten-story apartment building they had just stepped out of. Jin was consulting something bright in his hand, and he hung behind him, looking around. There was a definite divide at street level, where a shimmering wall rose that seemed sturdy despite being nearly translucent. Here and there, at corners of the property, things stuck to the wall, providing focal points of power. Two guardian lions near the exit of the property glowed; Jimin blinked, looked around again and breathed in abruptly. Everything glowed in here, not in a way that provided light, but it was as if he could look through and into things, seeing the spirits slumbering within.

 

Something leaped off one of the lions and scuttled closer, idly winding into the light. It was a kitten, but one with a stiff ruff of hair, and it was the cutest thing he had seen in his life. Fascinated, he sunk down on his haunches and held his hand out to it, palm down, earning a delicate sniff and a hesitant of one fingertip. Beyond the mane, it looked almost exactly like a calico kitten,

 

“That’s Muji,” Jin said over his shoulder. “One of the shisa guardian cubs around here. I…”

 

He broke off as Muji wiggled closer, using Jimin’s leg to climb him like a tree, scurrying up all the way to sit on his shoulder and rub cheeks together.

 

“Well,” Jim muttered. “It looks like you made a friend. I’m a little surprised.”

 

Jimin, entirely too delighted to have something that fluffy and tiny and gorgeous close to him, blinked at Jin past the ruff of hair. “Why surprised? She’s gorgeous.” He reached up as a rattling purr started near his ear, wincing a little as tiny kitten teeth started gnawing slowly on it. “Ouch, her teeth are as sharp as her claws.”

 

Jin considered him. “Ah… Muji is male. It’s one thing to see spirits, but it’s quite another to be able to touch them when they’re not manifested – Muji doesn’t have the power to do that yet, but you’re handling him as easily as if he were really there.”

 

“But he really is here…” Jimin said hesitantly.

 

Jin gave a sniff. “My hands would go straight through him without a ritual helping my interactions with the spirit world. In any case, the taxi is nearly here, and my wallet is burning.”

 

It took Jimin more than a few minutes to convince Muji to let him go, and another embarrassing moment when Jin had to allow him through the wards around the property. The filmy curtains of light might have looked delicate and beautiful, but they nearly took the skin off his nose the first time he walked into one.

 

Seconds later, as he climbed into the thing that Jin had called the taxi he was glad of the sting to distract him. It didn’t quite stink of anything but an artificial pine fragrance, but it went faster than he ever had before as they made their way towards the shops. There were signs he couldn’t read, sights he had no hope of understanding, and the person driving spoke too fast with Jin, in a dialect he couldn’t quite understand. He felt overwhelmed, like a leaf in a thick stream, and had to bite on the inside of one cheek to avoid tears stinging at his eyes.

 

Seoul itself was a noisy mess, filled with millions of people getting on with the business of living. Back home he had perhaps seen ten people in a year, and to see thousands thronging around him now made his breath hitch and his jaw ache from suppressed tears.

 

He felt warm fingers loosen the death-grip he had on the pullover, twisting to straighten them, and breathed out a shuddering sigh as Jin’s hand anchored him again. One thumb, slightly bent, pressed into the soft webbing between his thumb and index finger, applying just enough pressure to keep him in the present.

 

They rode like that, and Jin pulled him out of the car and into what he called a ‘shop’ like that, only letting go inside.

 

Jimin watched with rounded eyes as Jin tugged him into the menswear section, and he uttered a little yelp as a man in a pseudo-uniform popped up near them.

 

“Good evening, sirs,” he said smoothly. “Please let me know if you require any help.”

 

Jin nodded. “A lot of help,” he said. “My cousin arrived from Busan, but his luggage was lost, so we need a few things. Jackets, shirts, pants, the whole thing. Can you size and measure him?”

 

“Right this way,” the man said, making for the fitting rooms at the back.

 

“Jimin,” Jin urged quietly as he let go. “It’ll be fine. Just go with the man and ask him to speak slowly if he confuses you.”

 

Stripped down to a pair of Jin’s boxers, Jimin had to ask the guy to speak very slowly, flushing as the tape measured his inseam and the circumference of his legs, but the clerk was very matter-of-fact about it, and happy to help when he confessed he didn’t know what to ask for. He brought by shirts and pants, exchanging them endlessly. The rejects pile grew huge, but soon enough he had four sets of what the clerk called ‘jeans’ with an array of shirts that actually fit him. Some items fit awfully closely, especially a pair of black leather pants that clung to him like smoke, but the guy kept insisting they were the correct size for him.

 

He emerged an hour later only to find Jin seated at his ease with a cup of something steaming and his attention on the small, bright thing in his hand again. Warm brown eyes lifted to look at him, and a wide grin appeared. “Much better. You ready for the next one?” he asked as he handed over something to the clerk.

 

“Next one?” Jimin asked, confused. “I’ve already got enough for the next few years. How much more do I need?”

 

Ignoring a nearby girl’s scandalised gasp, Jin stood. “Lots more. That’s barely enough for a week.”

 

Hours later – at least four of five – Jimin trudged wearily into the complex grounds with his arms filled with bags. Jin shopped like someone gripped by religious fervour, and every time he asked him to spend less money he talked past it, or sniffed mock-insulted, or regarded him with a distant, sad look in his eyes. An uneasy feeling lingered in his head, whispering that he couldn’t pay back the amount spent tonight, and Jin had still said something about going again later the week.

 

Sighing, he tickled Muji’s ruff as he laid claim to a nest made of the shopping bags and changed, slipping into a warm sweater made of the palest blue he had seen and a pair of comfortable pants, augmenting it with two pairs of socks before he went to look for Jin.

 

He found him in the lounge area of the large apartment, curled up on a large leather chair, and sank down close by, uncertain how to start the conversation.

 

“Do you know anything of your parents and grandparents?” Jin asked eventually, startling him.

 

“Not really,” Jimin muttered as he fussed at a hem. “I was an orphan in Busan, and the monks took me in there because they said they needed someone to serve the sansin there. I guess… my face?”

 

“Even in this world beauty and purity are prized,” Jin muttered. “Perhaps too much so, but that’s a lecture for another time, preferably delivered by Namjoon-ah.”

 

Jimin tilted his head curiously.

 

“You’ll meet him later on,” Jin reassured. “No escaping it, really, especially when I had to alter the wards to let you out.”

 

“It’s like my lungs,” Jimin said hesitantly. “I can breathe more freely here. It’s just… there’s something in the air here. I can feel…” He broke that off. “Jin-hyung, you’re a priest here, right? This is your temple?”

 

Jin sat back. “I’m a baksu, which is a male mudang. It’s a little more shamanistic than the priests you might have met before. I’m an intermediary between common folk, spirits and the gods. I have some gifts of my own, like the healing I performed on you, but mostly I give counsel to those that want it, and try and ease the way between the mundane and the supernatural. I am the one that most often uses the temple, you’re right, but it’s not mine. It belongs to the gods.”

 

“Hyung…”

 

“Jimin-ah,” he said easily. “Spit it out.”

 

Jimin swallowed. “You’ve spent so much on me, and you’ve been so kind, I don’t know how I’m going to return all of that kindness. I can’t just sit here, I feel so terribly guilty about being such a burden to you. You’ve given me food and shelter, and then so many new sets of clothes too.”

 

Jin clasped his fingers around his mug of hot chocolate. “There are a few things you can do around the grounds to help out, but this is a favour, Jiminie.”

 

He had no defence against that, and so went again and again into the shops that Jin wanted to show him. In the distance, watching over the surreal shopping trip, thousands of lanterns crowded the city sky, some kind of festival that competed with the bright, artificial light of the signs on the streets. Some buildings even had entire mood-walls with great shifting displays of colours and beautiful people. There was music everywhere, a raucous cacophony that beat against his eardrums.

 

He felt adrift at sea, but not once did he want to head back.

---

1. The location of the complex that Jin owns is in Seongdong-gu in Seoul, which abuts one of the largest parks in Seoul. Whilst in our world it is totally open to the public year-round, in the story it is divided into two sections, namely the mundane park that everyone sees (about three quarters of what its actual size is), and a mystical refuge, which is what the complex borders on. Their apartment complex stands on the same grounds currently occupied by Seongsu High and Middle schools.
2. Out of idle curiosity I Googled the clothing brand Mastermind that the guys wore in the Steve Aoki remix of Mic Drop, and promptly dropped my jaw when I saw the price of the outfits. It only got worse when I looked up the prices of some of their other outfits. Jin isn’t the kind of person to take the money gained through his mudang practices and rituals for his own use, so I’m heavily pretending that he has a money tree growing somewhere in his back yard. Money itself is not going to be one of the primary concerns of this story.
3. This is Muji. Male calico cats are terrifically rare, but not actually impossible to get. They’re also considered lucky in some Asian countries. Guess the BTS reference. The name doesn’t mean anything, it just sounded nice to me.
4. Just to avoid confusion, a baksu is not the same as the excellent SEVENTEEN song with Baksu (Clap) as a title. It’s a male mudang, which is a shaman/priest in Korean shamanism. Traditionally they are mostly female, but like calico cats you also find them in a male flavour, especially in Jeju.