Wolves and Bread (COMPLETED)

Chapter 12

'Nothing,' Jimin answers, trying to return to his former self and thus betray nothing about the very personal conversation we just had.

Somehow he manages, but Tae notices the change regardless, though the other newcomer remains oblivious. 'Is something wrong, hyung?' His eyes worriedly take the dancer in, searching for a clue which gives a sign of what is going on. Or was going on, better said.

The concerned person shakes his head and smiles. 'I'm fine, Tae tae.'

'Okay.' He does not sound convinced and keeps a careful eye on the other boy as we chat about all the little things which in truth do not matter, until it is time to go our separate ways.

This story is far from over. Hopefully the rest of the tale shall be revealed next time because I want to know how it ends.

*

I am dumbfounded by what I discovered about Jimin today. It took a lot of trust and courage to speak of it, which means that we evidently have a closer friendship than expected, a bond in which we both care for one another and ostensibly there are more of those kinds of bonds related to me than I originally thought.

Perhaps, just perhaps, I may proudly say that I am somewhat of a member of their group. The mere thought of it fills me with joy. Finally a place where I belong.

After the working seminar there is still some time left to go to the library and start with the research for the essay about the Silla empire, since I have decided to go home around six o'clock anyway.

The professors sure are enthusiastic here because they give grand assignments and expect us to fulfill them within two weeks time, presuming we are like a bunch of inexhaustible moles which are continuously digging willingly in the chase for wisdom through the paper literary soil of the books in the library. Or they assume we are all night owls, which is true in a sense, but not in the manner they think we are.

The interior matches the outside, cool white and blue hues are interrupted by the multi-coloured book spines on the shelves that kind of warm the serious atmosphere. In the far right corner, people are busily typing on their laptops, seated at one of the pearly white lacquered tables. Left is a little lounge space where a few students are enjoying some literature on the weathered charcoal black couches.

I walk up the light wooden stairs that lead to the first floor, where the history department is. A couple of desks are put down in little groups of four all throughout the length of the space and thus form small wooden islands in the ocean of texts which have been gathered over the years.

A person who I had never thought to meet here sits at the desk on the most right side of the place.

When I put the brown leather-bound notebook and matching pencil case- the last birthday gifts Amanda, expression unable to conceal the strange disgust with which she handed me the package, gave me in father's name - on the table in front of him, his dark eyes briefly look up from the page he was studying.

As soon as he notices it is me, he smiles, showing his dimples. 'Hey,' Namjoon whispers, not wanting to disturb the rest. He is wearing thick-rimmed onyx glasses and a simple white T-shirt. His characteristic black leather jacket is draped around the back of the same-coloured chair. Suddenly he does not seem so intimidating anymore, more like a bookworm who is right at home here. 'What's up?'

Less nervous than normally due to the intensity of the motor rider being toned down multiple levels, I take place on the seat opposite him. 'Lots of notes have to be magically transformed into an essay and a ton of research needs to be done to top it off.' A tired sigh at the future prospect disturbs the tranquility. 'So you can pretty much guess what's up.'

'Knowledge is vital in understanding. How can one ever take a grasp of the world around him if he cannot think and thus show comprehension?'

I am taken aback by his philosophic attitude. Never had I dared to think he has this side to him. 'That's deep. I did not know you were so philosophic?'

'It's what I study and what I enjoy,' he answers casually, lightly shrugging as if what is said is nothing special.

Namjoon likes philosophy? That is quite a surprise because he does not seem like the type for it. Never judge a book by its cover.

'Wow, I never would have guessed that.' The astonishment can be heard in the tone of my voice and read in the gaze which is locked on to his.

'Yeah, I hear that a lot,' he chuckles at the remark, a deep pleasant sound which makes him appear even more as another than the leader of the band of chaps that has unexpectedly entered my life.

'What are you reading?' The book in his hands does not look like a textbook, but I cannot see the title nor the author's name, hidden by long fingers.

'Kafka's Metamorphosis. You should read it sometime. I think you'd like it.'

'I'll note it down.' Directly I jot down the title and the writer's name on the small TBR list I made on a post-it note on the inside of the journal.

'Is there something on your mind?' the tall man suddenly enquires, the surprise so big that the pen clumsily slips away between my fingers and lands on the opened written page. 'Taehyung-ah told me you were acting differently than usual.'

So Tae also noticed a change in me. The orange-haired boy is more observant than I thought. 'Jimin told me about his problem.'

Namjoon's eyes acquire a sympathetic expression. 'Really? This has to be the first time he has told anyone outside the group.'

So he truly has never told anyone besides the lads and his therapist. Not even his parents? On the other hand, I cannot blame him. His father and mother cannot understand him the way his friends do, they who seem closer to him than his relatives.

'What exactly did he tell you?'

I tell him everything the brave boy told me. 'And when we got to probably the most important part, Taehyung and Jungkook waltzed in,' I conclude the report of this morning.

'Ah, that day. We all remember it well.' His visage darkens as the memory resurfaces, once again having the same effect on me as the eery glint in the dancer's blue-grey eyes.

They all remember that day, which means it must hold some meaning to all of them and not to just Jimin. More puzzle pieces appear and make me wonder how they fit into the image, it be without disturbing the designers inappropriately.

'What happened then?' I ask. Curiosity gets the better of me, because it has to know what hidden knowledge is present and although it feels like intruding on their private lives, I want to know what happened and how things changed. How they have changed thanks to this ''therapy''.

Namjoon gets up from his spot, puts his book in the backpack on the floor next to the chair and puts on his jacket. 'Walk with me?' he asks kind-heartedly, almost encouragingly, clearly having something to say which cannot be shared in the current circumstances.

I nod, quickly gather the just unpacked belongings, and return them to the bag from whence they came.

Together we walk out the building and leave the campus via the sand path covered by the branches of the many oak trees through which tightly knit roof of leaves rays of sunshine nevertheless protrude.

Straight into nature and in the direction of the most beautiful place I have ever seen.