The forest has a kind of beauty, Jimin admits. It’s wild and untamed and a little bit cathartic, not at all like the pristine square city Jimin had grown to love. He’d grown up at the base of the mountain, so the forest had always been right there, but Jimin had never bothered to go any closer than the bus stop to work. There’d never been anything of interest for him there, but now he can’t seem to remember why.

The leaves seem to have a mind of their own as Jimin makes his second lap around the shrine. He’d only spent an hour this morning cooped up inside Yoongi’s living space before the madness started to set in – so now he’s outside, pretending everything is okay just as much as he was inside the shrine.

The entire building seems to be falling apart. Jimin hops from one loose stone to the next, framing some kind of water garden that had long since fallen empty. He’d had to shift away some rotten wood to even get this far around the building, but even the disrepair held some kind of charm. Jimin wouldn’t exactly call it serene, but it was nice. Perhaps peaceful, at a stretch.

He’d managed to find a pair of loose cotton pants and a sweater tucked away in a dresser, presumably belonging to Yoongi. Although as far as Jimin is concerned, anything in that place is free game – it’s not like Yoongi made it clear he was coming back. Still, it’s all a bit too big for Jimin (even though Yoongi couldn’t have been more than one size up), so he has to roll the sleeves and waistband just to manage.

As he steps off from a particularly large rock, Jimin trips on a tough piece of rubber sticking out from the dirt. Reaching down and pulling, he begins to unearth the length of rope – a pipe – from where it lay buried, tracing all the way back to the shrine and linking to a tap embedded in the wooden wall.

It’s almost too easy. Jimin turns the rusted hinge on the tap, listening with an odd satisfaction as the water garden rumbles back to life. At first, the water gushes out a murky shade of brown, but it doesn’t take long to clear as the pool slowly fills and trickles back up into the waterfall. Kneeling down next to the water’s edge, Jimin hums as he pulls a few weeds away from the rocks.

“If I’m going to be stuck here, I may as well do it right,” he says aloud to the trees and the birds, his only company. Cleaning up the place would keep his mind busy, and it was the least he could do given he was eating out of Yoongi’s fridge and wearing Yoongi’s clothes.

Besides, it felt good, so why not?

 

~*~

 

Jimin couldn’t find anything of use beyond the few cleaning supplies Yoongi kept in the bathroom – and he couldn’t very well mop the leaves away. Still, he managed to achieve the water garden looking somewhat presentable by the time the sun began to set. There’d still been no sign of Yoongi, so Jimin had retreated inside to wash his face and prepare something to eat.

Jimin had been dismayed to only find various flavours of instant ramen in Yoongi’s pantry for breakfast this morning, but the effect had already worn off – he was more concerned about where the delicious soup had come from.

Original Pork – now with Real Pork!

Authentic Teriyaki (spicy spicy spicy!)

Super miso, taste you can see!

Creamy Chicken for One

Cheddar with Premium Dried Beef

Jimin makes his choice, shoving a cup of waterlogged dried noodles in the microwave – was there always a microwave? – and peering at his reflection as the styrofoam began to rotate. The cat ears were still present, and definitely still stuck to his head. They were white and sleek, with these little tufts of fur reaching over the top. Jimin’s not sure when he decided he was okay with this, but it feels almost second-nature as he reaches up to pick a piece of fluff away from the tip.

He briefly considers his family’s reaction but shakes the thought away. They’d be worried by now, for sure – Jimin had missed the last bus back home more than he’d like to admit, but he’d definitely never been missing for more than a night. As soon as he figures out how to get rid of the cat-girl aesthetic he’d been pulling, Jimin would be heading straight back home with a mouth full of apologies. For now, this is enough.

The microwave buzzes away, and Jimin slumps with his head in his hands. He’s worked all day to keep the thoughts at bay, but now the darkness is settling in and there’s nothing left to do. Yoongi doesn’t even own a TV, what kind of deranged hermit is he?

 

~*~

 

Jimin’s hunched over a steaming cup of noodles, and the smell is starting to both grow on him and make him insanely nauseous. He’s perched easily on the edge of the veranda, basking in the sun as it makes its slow rise through the treetops. Jimin’s not sure he’d ever get used to the smell of fake, dehydrated pork shavings in the morning, but that’s okay – he’s sure Yoongi will be back before midday and then Jimin will be free to go home...just as soon as he gets rid of this damn tail, and figures out where he even is.

 

~*~

 

So that was a lie.

Jimin’s up to his elbows in dirt, sweat beading on his forehead as he levers another stone free of its muddy tomb. He’s trying to rebuild the stone path leading up to the front steps of the shrine, but it’s proving much harder than previously anticipated to uncover and relocate suitable rocks to fill the gaps. It’s well past noon, Yoongi’s a no-show, and Jimin’s starting to go crazy.

“Maybe he was trapped here, and only freed once someone else took his place,” Jimin mutters under his breath, heaving himself into an upright position. “I’m the new hermit of the shrine, and he’s back in society just living it up.”

The stone thuds into place and Jimin scuffs the dirt around until it sits properly aligned with its new neighbouring pavement. “He’s probably just teaching me a lesson, but it’s not even my fault.”

His tail lashes angrily against the paving, only growing darker as it sweeps up the dirt. Jimin doesn’t care.

“I’m going to fight him,” he decides resolutely, stamping his hands on his hips. “I’m going to fight him, and win, and then I’ll be free and he’ll be the hermit again.” His stomach grumbles loudly, but Jimin ignores it. Just thinking of cup ramen right now makes his head spin.

The path has shaped up nicely – there’s only one gap left, closest to the veranda stairs. Jimin stares at it scathingly, like it’s at fault for its own shortcomings. It’s only one more trip to the nearby streambed, and Jimin’s pretty sure he can make it there and back in time before the sun sets past the tree line.

Using his hands as a guide, Jimin’s measures the rough shape and size of stone he’ll need to fill the gap before setting off into the trees. He’d been lucky to find the stream in the first place, stumbling over it as he walked in ever-widening circles around the shrine to explore the area. He probably could’ve heard the stream before he found it, but he’s really not quite used to the heightened hearing the two cat ears bring. It’s downright unnatural.

Then again, there’s nothing natural going on here to begin with, Jimin surmises bleakly, making his way over a fallen log. He’s long since done away with his shoes, or what little was left after his tumble down the mountain. It didn’t matter though – the forest here was untouched by man, but soft and gentle nonetheless.

Jimin’s becoming weirdly comfortable with the new feline additions to his body. His fingers don’t have claws – thank god – and there don’t seem to be any other changes beyond the ears and tail. He wasn’t like those over-ualised chocolate catgirls at his supermarket, and he certainly hadn’t become some horrific amalgamation of demonic body parts. The tail seemed to serve no use, but the ears were great for listening out to the sounds of the forest as it called its way. At the very least, the cheer of nearby birds helped keep Jimin’s spirits up against all odds.

He still misses home, though. He’s probably going to be fired from his job if he doesn’t get back soon, or at least come up with a damn good excuse. His city days are all but over if he loses that job, and he’ll be confined to Jihyo’s bakery – if she’ll even have him, after his poor effort as a son. Who even disappears for this long, with no note or message?

The stream comes into view, and Jimin sighs. He puts his thoughts behind him in favour of selecting a good stone. He’s already cleared the nearby bank, and is forced to roll up his trouser legs and wade into the soft current. Winter is still desperately clutching on to the wind, and Jimin shudders as the cold water laps around his calves. The shadows will grow long soon, and Jimin hardly wants to be caught half-drowned in the darkness.

His bare feet scuff over a wide stone, and Jimin makes a noise of appreciation. It’s definitely a little odd-shaped but he’s sure he can make it work. He bites his cheek as the cold water embraces his arms, beginning to soak into his already rolled-up sleeves with the depth he reaches. The stone comes freely, slippery as Jimin finally hauls it from the water.

The trip back to the shrine takes even longer. Jimin has to take small, shuffling steps under the weight of the stone, and constantly needs to readjust his grip on the wet surface. The breeze gently whips against his legs, cold enough that Jimin has long since gone numb to feeling.

“What a weak- god I’d make,” Jimin laughs sarcastically, heaving the stone higher where it presses against his chest. Yoongi must be wrong – or else Jimin must have the worst luck in the world, landing a position as the world’s flimsiest deity. He laughs again at the thought.

It’s a relief when the clearing finally comes back into sight, the sun just beginning to touch the top of the trees. He’s still got enough time to fit the stone and enjoy his dinner outside. It’ll be yet another boring night of absolutely no entertainment, and eating outside is something Jimin clings in a desperate effort for enjoyment. He misses his phone, scrolling mindlessly through social media before he sleeps, flicking through endless TV channels while he waits for his parents to come home, or even just hearing the local gossip from his mother’s friends. He craves companionship the most – someone to share a meal, a sibling to bicker with, a customer to greet.

The stone thuds as it hits the ground. Jimin squats to shove it into place, aware of the dirt beginning to cake up the remaining wet spots on his arms and feet. With a bit of a shove, the stone fits neatly against its neighbours in satisfying completion. Jimin gives a pleased hum, patting the upended dirt back into place around the stone and spreading the excess amongst the somewhat-less-overgrown-than-yesterday grass (he’d considered cutting it this morning, but couldn’t find anything big and sharp enough to follow through – weeding would have to suffice...for now). The path is less than two metres long, but the gratification is intense. Jimin suspects that might be because there’s literally nothing else going for him right now – at least he gets to make a pretty path.

His cat ears are turned out behind him to enjoy the evening birdsong when he first hears it.

Snap!

Jimin’s spun around on the balls of his feet before he knows what he’s doing. The forest might feel calm and gentle, but it certainly does not feel safe. Whatever is keeping him out here with cat appendages, Jimin’s not about to die with his back turned.

The entire façade drops immediately when Jimin recognises the face that he’s surprisingly comforted to see. Yoongi looks just as surprised, frozen mid-step into the clearing, plastic bags in hand and eyes pinned to Jimin.

Jimin’s the first to move, rising up to his full height – he’s very much aware that it’s not intimidating at all, but it’s better than nothing, right?

“What are you still doing here?” Yoongi says finally, breaking the silence and starting forward once more. His eyes scan the shrine, and Jimin scowls.

“I didn’t break anything,” he grumbles, not moving an inch even as Yoongi steps onto the first paving stone. How dare Yoongi come here and have the audacity to check if Jimin’s ruined his home? He left Jimin here alone, it was his own god-damn f-

“Did you do this?” Yoongi asks softly, entirely ignoring Jimin’s initial response. Jimin’s taken aback by the tone; he’d fully been expecting more arguments and scathing words. His ears peel away from his head, where they’d been lying flat – were they responding to his anger?

Jimin scrunches his nose a little. “I didn’t think you’d be coming back, so I thought I’d clean up...” he says, slowing to a stop. Does he actually have an excuse for tidying up? It’s not like it’s Jimin’s home or anything, he has no right to go about making things ‘better’ by his standards. Maybe Yoongi preferred it rundown? Maybe there was some reason for keeping it decrepit and worn.

It just felt so right to fix it up. Gathering the stones, pulling weeds, washing down the veranda, it’s just what Jimin is supposed to be doing.

“Come,” Yoongi offers, brushing past Jimin without really answering anything at all. Does this mean Jimin is in the clear?

He follows Yoongi up the wooden steps, hungrily eyeing the plastic bag Yoongi grasps. There’s definitely more than instant ramen packets in there – Jimin could kill for anything not served in styrofoam right now.

“So, why are you still here?” Yoongi asks again – and there’s still no malice in his voice, just careful resignation. He peels open the hatch inside the shrine and gestures Jimin to go first.

Jimin doesn’t question it as he slips down the ladder, ignoring the weird circumstances in favour of food, real food! “How could I go anywhere else?” he answers mildly, stepping off the last rung and reaching out to take the shopping bag as Yoongi begins his descent. Jimin, of course, takes a peek – and there’s definitely real vegetables in there. His mouth waters at the possibility.

Yoongi doesn’t respond to that, just ushers Jimin towards the kitchen. He’s acting suspiciously non-confrontational, but it’s plausible that maybe this is his normal state of being. Jimin did just arrive on his front doorstep in the rain and then proceed to throw up the floor after being fed. Even if he is a bit odd, Yoongi really hadn’t shown anything other than the basic hospitality he wasn’t even required to offer. Had Jimin been too harsh?

Then again, Jimin had also woken up with a pair of ears and a tail he’d never asked for. If Yoongi really had played a part in this torment, then he was absolutely deserving of Jimin’s attitude.

Jimin sets the bag down on the kitchen bench, an onion rolling free onto the stone worktop. Yoongi’s already busy pulling out a pot from underneath in the cabinets, so Jimin follows suit and begins to empty out the rest of the bag contents. Potato, mushroom, soybean paste...beef slices. Jimin is well beyond listening now, dreaming of better days with beautiful food.

Yoongi breaks Jimin from his thoughts of bulgogi and barbeque with a sharp tap on the bench. He waves at the assortment of vegetables – “chop these.”

Jimin doesn’t waste time, pulling the onion closer. He’s about to ask, but Yoongi’s way ahead; there’s already a knife and chopping board at the ready between them. Unless Yoongi is some kind of sadist, Jimin’s pretty sure he’s entitled to any meal he takes part in cooking and is probably (probably) getting fed tonight.

Yoongi doesn’t speak while he works, and Jimin’s happy with that. In fact, Jimin’s just happy to have company at all – although he’s not really sure when he forgave Yoongi to begin with, let alone became comfortable enough in his presence to work like this.

Maybe I’m just that starved for attention, Jimin thinks with disdain. Have I really sunk so far?

He sneaks a glance at Yoongi, eyes lingering on his claws as Yoongi stirs in the soybean paste, nails lightly scraping the tall spoon. They look real enough, Jimin can even see where the cuticles have begun to grow out at the end of the nail. Still, that only leaves the option that Yoongi had his real nails cosmetically altered to look that way – surely not.

Of course, they could be real, but that opens a whole new can of worms that Jimin’s just not quite ready to deal with yet.

Jimin’s eyes leave the claws and trail upwards with no thought – where he is promptly scared half to death when he meets Yoongi’s eyes on the way. Jimin lets out a yelp, whipping his head back down to the onion closer to remove the peel at new incredible speeds, all the while mentally chanting. , , , , ...

 

~*~

 

“So I see you made it into my closet,” Yoongi comments slyly, nearly making Jimin choke on his spoonful of broth. They’re sitting on the edge of the balcony now, sipping away at yet another wonderful soup by Yoongi’s hands (real food!). Jimin’s pretty sure his red face has only just subsided after being caught staring earlier, and yet now Yoongi’s chosen to speak up again and commit Jimin to an eternity of embarrassment.

“Sorry, it was the only thing...” Jimin trails off. He’s stolen the man’s clothes, there’s not much he can really say here. “I’ll wash them,” he finishes instead.

“It’s fine,” Yoongi answers easily, dismissing the conversation back into silence. Jimin’s happy enough to eat his stew with only the soft night hours of noise to accompany, but he certainly misses the comparatively boisterous vibe back home around this hour. His brother, scuffling away to get his homework done as quickly as possible before spending the rest of the night doing whatever it is he does in his room. His mother, laughing loudly at the latest hit TV show that was currently playing. His father clashing dishes together in the sink, unworried about the noise he makes in favour of just cleaning and making do. Jimin – soaking it in, because he never really knew what he had until now. It feels lonely, even with Yoongi two paces beside him.

 

~*~

 

Jimin has the mattress, because he can’t really argue against Yoongi when he’s too uncertain to make a noise at all. Yoongi’s taken some of the blankets and made himself a mess in the corner – something Jimin recognises as a nest of sorts, looking both strikingly comfortable and unbearably back-breaking in the same glance.

Right now, Jimin’s content in his hot bath, soaking the long day away. He’s helped himself to the rose oil sitting on the edge of the tub, and can’t think of anywhere better to be if he has to be stuck here. It would only be topped by being totally alone, able to completely relax and let the water sweep him gently into a light sleep.

It doesn’t matter anyway, seeing as Yoongi’s elected to stay outside while Jimin washes up and heads to bed. Tomorrow, Jimin will figure out once and for all how to get rid of these cat ears. He’ll be out of Yoongi’s hair, and back at home like nothing ever happened to begin with.

 

~*~

 

Yet again, a total lie. Jimin wakes up far earlier than the past two days, and yet Yoongi’s already gone by the time he opens his eyes. He’s not in the bathroom when Jimin passes through on his morning ritual, and there’s no sign of him outside when Jimin peeks his head out through the top hatch.

Jimin can let out a sigh of relief, however, to find the kitchen fully restocked with all the staples. It’s the small things in life – no more instant ramen!

With nothing better to do, Jimin heads outside. He’s pinched another set of Yoongi’s clothes – the set from yesterday is dirty, and besides, Yoongi said it was fine. He’ll wait for Yoongi yet again, but get started on some chores in the meantime.

“I’ll get more done today,” Jimin vows out loud with the trees as his witness. “I’ll show him.”

There’s a pair of statue bases, but Jimin can’t really start there without knowing where the statues themselves went. The grass can’t be clipped back without a mower of some sort, and he’ll need a hammer and nails at the very least to start with the shrine itself.

Jimin can, however, see a stray weed holding tall up ahead. It’s not much, but it’s certainly a start. He must’ve missed it yesterday on his quick pass-over of the area – it’s on the very border of the small space Jimin cleaned out, so it’s entirely plausible to have been overlooked.

It comes easily, but not without spraying a clump of dirt everywhere on its way out. Jimin sputters – these clothes were fresh! – but forgets his qualms quickly when he sees what the weed has unearthed. More stone?

Disregarding his cleanliness for the time-being, Jimin digs his hands in the soil and finds himself hitting solid stone a mere leaf’s breadth below. He becomes frantic in brushing away the dirt, caking all kinds of horror under his nails and into the hems on Yoongi’s sleeves, but right now it doesn’t matter.

Jimin’s found today’s project: restoring the old courtyard.