Dark Matter | JJK

51. Photographs

"You really didn't have to come with me," Namjoon said, clicking open his seatbelt as Jungkook pulled onto pavement of the tarmac road. Outside, the Seoul skyline dissolved into a dark pelt of starlight over sounds of distant footsteps dragging over gravel and hushed conversations.

Jungkook shook his head dismissively, clicking open his own seatbelt and yanking out the keys from the ignition. "There's only so many samples I can prepare and hand over for clinical trials everyday back home. And going by what our honourable President said," he quirked a sardonic eyebrow at Namjoon, "I should make myself useful while I can."

He caught a glimpse of the Secretary's wry smile before they were both out of the vehicle, slamming the car doors shut. "I didn't tell you that so you could take his words to heart," Namjoon's voice floated over the hood of the silver Benz. "I know you're doing your best."

Jungkook pocketed his keys and scoffed.

Armed guards in all-black uniforms and visors patrolled the metal fence that circled the perimeter of the area. A single nod from the Secretary was all it took to let them in. Under the haze of the late evening, the Hajibon Hobbit looked nothing like what his ninth-grade self had conjured up in his imagination while reading Tolkien. The sprawling range of hills converted into houses looked more like upended wooden bowls sheltering a population of Lilliputians. A narrow-winding, cobblestoned lane wove between the rows of hills on either side, lined by tall orange lampposts. People in their pyjamas and nightgowns stood outside their circular doors carved into the hills, chatting with their neighbours, carrying around baskets-full of laundry and barrels of purified water on their backs. In one side of the four hundred square foot field, a makeshift tent was set up beside which a group of volunteers emptied food crates from a truck. Occasionally, children in thick woollen sweaters and ear muffs meandered around the lampposts towards the swings sitting between two hills, leaving behind a trail of hearty giggles and squeals in their wake.

It all looked like a dreamland paradise where the world had come for vacation.

For a moment, it was easy to forget that the very place was set up to protect them from war.

"Okay," Namjoon's voice shook him from his momentary reverie. He handed Jungkook a pen and sandy brown notepad. "This is a consolidated list of the names of those who live here. Go around and see if the residents have any complaints or there's something that needs repairing. Meanwhile I'll go inform them about the war protocol."

Jungkook nodded, wringing out a black face mask from his longline coat and putting it on. He could appreciate one or two less accusatory stares today. Starting from the quarters in the range of hills to his right, Jungkook sucked in a sharp breath and rapped his knuckles on the first the circular wooden door.

It was a recurring pattern from there – knock, greet and scribble complaints in microscopic handwriting next to their names. Fissured pipelines, clogged chimneys, leaking taps, faulty geysers, too many grasshoppers and too many sneaky squirrels running off with cream cookies. Aside from a tug or two at his coat from a pouting child asking him to install slides in the play area, all Jungkook had to do was talk to the residents from their porch without the need to enter their homes – thank heavens – or else the snarky ahjumma whining about the noisy group of college boys next to her quarter would never let him go.

Finally reaching the last quarter of the range, Jungkook pushed his unruly bangs away from his forehead and lifted a hand to knock on the door, only for it to swing open before he could. A man emerged, muttering angrily under his breath as he dumped a copper watering can on the muddy ground by his feet.

"Yes?" he asked, impatient.

Blinking, Jungkook turned the page on his notepad. "Can I have your name, sir? Anyone else with you?"