Wings of Submission

Soggy Surprise Visit

In the weeks following Yoongi's sudden departure, Namjoon found himself engulfed in a silence that felt almost tangible, each day heavy with a growing burden of guilt and uncertainty. Despite adhering to the Magic Shop's strict guidelines, Namjoon was haunted by a relentless worry about Yoongi's welfare, a concern that went beyond professional obligations and touched on a deep, personal level.

The conflict within him only deepened with time. Practically, he understood the transient nature of their clientele; it was an inherent aspect of their work. Yet, an unsettling feeling persisted, suggesting that Yoongi's situation might be different, more complex.

Reaching out to Yoongi was not a simple matter of bending the rules. No matter how much Namjoon wished to contact him, the rules of the Magic Shop were not just arbitrary dictates; they were born out of a profound understanding of the delicate nature of their clients' emotional and psychological well-being. As practitioners of unique and enigmatic art, Namjoon and his comrades understood the importance of maintaining strict boundaries and respecting the autonomy of those who sought their help.

Central to these rules was the principle of non-interference, particularly when it came to clients who chose to retreat or sever contact. This wasn't merely a matter of professional etiquette; it was a fundamental aspect of their ethical code. By refraining from initiating contact with clients who had chosen to withdraw, Namjoon and his friends sought to honor the personal boundaries and agency of each individual.

The decision to retreat or cut contact was often a deeply personal one, rooted in complex emotions and experiences that were not always immediately apparent. Forcing or coercing a client into communication against their will could not only undermine the trust and rapport they had built but also risk exacerbating any existing emotional distress or trauma.

In essence, the Magic Shop operated on the premise that true healing and self-discovery could only occur when an individual was ready and willing to confront their innermost struggles and desires. By respecting the boundaries of their clients, Namjoon and his companions hoped to create a safe and supportive environment where individuals could explore their inner worlds at their own pace, free from external pressure or interference.

The silence in the room was finally broken by Seokjin's approach. "You look like you've seen a ghost," he observed, his concern obvious in the soft timbre of his voice.

Namjoon exhaled, a gesture showing his internal unease. "I can't help it," he confessed, the shadows of guilt and worry casting long lines across his face. "There's this constant feeling nagging at me, as if Yoongi's absence has left a void no one else can fill. It's ridiculous, I know."

Seokjin pulled up a chair, sitting down beside Namjoon with a sigh. "I understand," he said simply. "Yoongi wasn't just any client, was he? But we've always known that our paths with those we care for here are not for us to choose."

Namjoon's gaze was distant, his mind clearly wrestling with Seokjin's words. "It's just that I keep thinking if there was something more I could've done, some way to prevent him from feeling like he had to disappear without a word."

Seokjin leaned in, his expression earnest. "Namjoon, you did everything within your power - and the boundaries we've set - to support Yoongi. Our role is to guide, not to bind. Remember, healing is a journey they must undertake themselves, and sometimes that path requires solitude."

Namjoon nodded slowly, the logic in Seokjin's words cutting through the fog of his emotions. Yet, a thread of resistance remained. "But what if he needed more from us? What if my actions - or lack thereof - pushed him away?"

"Joon," Seokjin interjected, placing a hand on Namjoon's shoulder, grounding him with the contact. "You offered him compassion, understanding, and a space to confront his challenges. Yoongi's decisions are his own, influenced by factors beyond your control. It's natural to worry, but it's also important to trust in the strength and resilience of those we help."