It was about 10 in the morning when you decided it was time to go. You had closed everything in the house, and cleaned your room’s floor even if it wasn’t very useful since there still was that huge hole. You doubted that inhabitants would steal anything from you. They were glad you were protecting them from so-called wild animals and other dangers coming from the forest. But you knew there was a slight possibility for them to come back and achieve what they couldn’t finish this early morning.

The boys were waiting for you outside while you were doing a final lap in the house to see if everything was in order. Inwardly, you knew it was because you didn’t want to leave your home. You were just trying to gain some time.

Before you knew it, a big wooden door was in front of you. Your parents’ room. You looked at the doorknob hesitantly. You didn’t come back since their accident. You remembered the time when, as a child, you would always storm in because you just had a nightmare. Related to fire. Your Nightmare. It was always related to fire. It was always the same. A house on fire, screams of terror, and then, nothing. You would woke up and run to your parents’ arms, warm, comfy, delicate. That feeling was dreamlike to you. And you would fall asleep, as a normal child would. And they would look at you with loving eyes. At those times, your parents would lock eyes and the same feelings would appear in their dark brown orbs as they were talking to each other in silence while your mother would smoothly caress your hair. Adoration. Love. But also worry. And fear.

You twisted the knob and entered that room. Or should I say that sanctuary. Everything was as they left it. The unmade bed. The soothing smell of their perfume coming from the sheets. As if they had just gone to the grocery store and would be back soon after having bought a big cake as they would for your birthday. As if you could still share something all together again. As if they were simply still there. With you. As if… You perfectly knew that “as if” things were just hurtful wishes, poisonous illusions, and memories of a bygone era. Unfortunately.

You let your gaze travel around the room until something your attention. Something long and rectangular made of polished black wood. The same as the object lying inside. You smiled bitterly. Unknowingly, you were approaching the object. Your fingers slid on the wooden case and a nostalgic feeling spread inside you.

“Long time no see. Sorry for neglecting you all this time” you murmured to it.

This object was precious to your father. And to you. That’s the reason why you wouldn’t let it here in this now insecure house. You clasped the handle and left the room. Silver Boy and Jimin were still waiting for you and when you came back to them, they looked at you and then to that thing in your hand, carefully stored in its box. Jimin made no comments. He saw how you were looking and it told him that you didn’t want to talk about it.

“A forgotten treasure.” You declared, not even looking at him.

You just passed by them, since they were not decided to take the lead. Your grip tightened on the case’s handle, as if this gesture was helping you to keep your sanity. Because you had lied previously. Not to them. Not to the two boys following you right at this moment. But to yourself. Because it wasn’t only dangerous for Silver Boy. It was also for you. Of course, it wasn’t the same type of danger. Their reactions. You feared they would feel betrayed and ashamed at the thought of having someone like you in their Circle. They were your only remaining family now and you didn’t want them to leave you. You didn’t want anyone to leave you again. You might be strong but not to that extent. You might appear strong but it didn’t make you less fragile. Everything was a matter of surface, a matter of appearance. After all, who knew you enough to be able to judge when even you weren’t sure to know yourself completely? Was there anyone who knew who you were, in this world? If such a person existed, maybe they would have a lot of response to give you. Because you had countless questions to ask. We walked without a word. The atmosphere was heavy since none of us knew what was going to happen once the doorstep crossed. You looked up and saw the old house figure enlightened by the pale sunlight. You stopped in your track. They did the same.

“Is this the house we are going to sleep into?” Sehun asked, quite impressed by the size of the house. It sure was old, but the state was still quite good. You turned your head in his direction but didn’t answer. You didn’t know if he would make it until the sun sets.

“Yeah, it is.” Jimin answered to him, gazing at your second home. He wasn’t smiling but there was an endearing tone in his voice. As if he was talking about something alive, something he cherished. And you must admit everyone of the Jägers does. Because, yes, this house was your home. It was even more. This house meant so much more than just a home. It was a place you were going when you were feeling down, or when you wanted to share your happiness. It was warm, comfy, and delicate. Like your parents’ arms. To you, it was another dreamlike feeling. The comfort and love your parents couldn’t give you anymore, this home was offering it to you. But there was something even more important. The people in there. Because this warm, comfy and de