The night was cold, but not as cold as Jimin's heart. 

Once again he questioned his choice of career as a doctor, but all he ever got from facing up to himself was soundless defeat - Even his mirror reflection seemed to be taunting him. The water he had splashed over his face did not sooth his raging emotions. His skin's permanent pallor hinted at sleepless nights and the work fatigue that plagued him.

His footsteps echoed dully through the corridors of the building, matched with his lacklustre mood in plodding back to the medical centre on the seventh floor. He had stayed way past the closing hours to finish up some medical reports. If the servicemen weren’t so inventive with fresh excuses to shrink from their duties, perhaps he could have left work on time.

But as it was, he hadn't seen the sun in ages. First in for medical reviews at the break of dawn, and last out after submission of same-day medical reports. It doesn’t reflect well in a doctor’s profession to submit late reports, since facts of a case need to be relayed with timely judgement. 

Jimin was long prepared to sacrifice any personal life he might have outside of work. Why then, was the job taking such a toll on him? 

He turned off his computer, and exited the medical centre with his work satchel slung over his shoulder. Time to hurry home and clear his head. 

He had reason to believe the long working hours were starting to mess with his brain, when he unwittingly noticed a man's silhouette outside the window one floor down.

The man’s shadow on the sixth floor balcony grew longer, as his spritely steps took him towards the parapet.

He was donned in military garb, and although Jimin could not make out from afar if the attire was full or half combat-ready, the man was undeniably prancing around in combat boots. Jimin felt an instant chill down his spine.

Noone had told him to expect apparitions since this camp facility is rather new with a zero-incident rate. But before the military took over, this had been a police academy. What if the shadowy man came from the past?

Jimin's legs carried him to the sixth floor, as though his will to run away had been killed with a switch to auto-pilot mode.

It consoled Jimin that the man was leaning on the parapet and not floating beyond it —  A good sign that he is not a phantom.

There wasn't very much to go by to confirm his suspicions but Jimin was pretty sure this was a man of flesh and blood he was inching towards. For one, the man’s arms were so slender yet defined by strong veins that even if he was hardly flexing, his physique looked hella toned.

Two, the curls in his hair. Were they natural? His hair had grown out a bit. Perhaps he was a military reserve? What business did a ghost have spotting a hairdo like that? Honestly it hints of too much spunk and as the wind picked up, the spell of the moment was like a spiral drawing Jimin closer and closer to one focal point - the man's graceful limbs moving so fluidly that to attempt to cross the parapet was no great feat at all— HEY 

"STOP!" Jimin bound forward to seize the man's arm with new found awareness that a life was at stake here. He had assumed this man was just fooling around and must not be taken seriously, but this dangeous turn of events has proven him wrong.

The man's arm remained pliant in his grasp, and Jimin was able to swerve his whole person around easily, instantly recognising to his greatest astonishment that he was face-to-face with Kim Taehyung. The same guy who had intervened in the scissors incident. Oh yes, those curls were familiar somehow. But those searing eyes that had borne a hole in him that day were now shuttered by fluttering eyelids, and Taehyung in his half consciousness jostled against Jimin's full embrace.

"Hey- Hey now! Calm down, I want to help you!” Jimin cried out. He cupped Taehyung's chin and sensed great distress channelling from his shuddering frame, but somehow his reactions seemed stunted as he mumbled incoherently to himself in a self-absorbed trance.

“Don’t come over… Let me… go”

Taehyung made a renewed effort to throw himself off the ledge, but Jimin quickly wrapped his arms around him like a life buoy. This naturally eliminated the distance between them and seeing Taehyung's face up close albeit in shadows brought another revelation. Contrary to Jimin's earliest assumption, the man was not crazy. He was sleepwalking.

No wonder he couldn't get any sensible reaction from Taehyung, Jimin realized. This man is obviously incapable of looking out for himself.

Not wanting to alarm him, Jimin tapped Taehyung's moistened cheeks, hoping to bring him to his senses. When that didn't work, Jimin started to hoist Taehyung away from the parapet by sheer force of strength. He was even tempted to carry him bridal style to salvage whatever little precious time left to rest for the night, but Taehyung's resistance rose when he felt himself being manhandled.

“No no please— PLEASE— no…” Taehyung begged in whimpers like Jimin was enacting his greatest nightmare. Seeing him in such a state made Jimin stop short.

He had never been in a position of being begged to before and it was sobering to see Taehyung being reduced to animalistic instincts of wanting no more than to free himself from Jimin's grasp, as though Jimin in fact represented a threat of imprisonment. 

Looking over his pale and distraught face Taehyung was clearly being consumed by wildly manifesting fears, and Jimin no longer recognized him as the man who cockily expressed disdain at the way he had handled the recruit who picked up that pair of scissors.

“What happened to you…” Jimin muttered to himself. The answer lied within Taehyung’s consciousness and something must be done to snap him out of it.