"A mistake."
Hoseok considered Jungkook's death a lot of things, but mistake was never a word that crossed his mind. Tragic, terrible, unjust, shocking, heart-rendering, yes. Mistake what was he used when one tripped or trusted their bad judgment. Mistake was a simple, everyday, word; Jungkook could only die once.
Annoyance treaded through him. He never liked when anyone outside of those close to him talked about Jungkook's death, or fundamental being, for that matter. Despite his worldwide fame, he preferred to keep him hidden, a little secret that no one could touch, or harm. The pretty seashells that appeared and disappeared with every wave that splashed against the shore. Here this unnamed, faceless, formless manifestation was speaking formally, without compassion, egging them on for a proper answer.
Although if the mysterious voice was insinuating that bad judgment had led to his passing, then, yes, he would consider it a mistake. The biggest mistake in the world. If this was their way of apologizing, he would see red before he considered accepting.
Jimin glanced at him with mild trouble. Hoseok's flat pronunciation suggested a mere glimpse of the anger brewing hot underneath his skin. Jungkook, his Jungkook, was ripped from them due to negligence. He did not care about whatever abilities the deity harvested, he wanted to explode with all the pent-up frustration stored in his body.
However, no mind was paid to his impoliteness. If anything, the voice seemed pleased.
"Yes, a mistake. Humans define it as a misguided action or judgment."
Hoseok hated the feeling of speechlessness. He reasoned that as long as he was there, under the mercy of the sky, he would have to withstand the embarrassment.
"If there is nothing else any of you need to say, I will now begin to explain to you the reason why you are here."
Like schoolchildren to their teacher, they finally obeyed and fell into silence. Their panic was not extinguished, but for the moment, subdued. Listening never turned once turned him the wrong way, after all.
"When someone is born, they are given a specific amount of time. Their choices pertaining to how they spend it are entirely up to them. Jungkook's 23 years of life were completely under his will. Respectfully, the universe did not anticipate the impact Jeon Jungkook would make with his life. Nor the impact of his death."
Hoseok could not fathom how anyone who met Jungkook could ever think he wouldn't do anything great, much less those who created him.
His opinion on knowing Jungkook's death was simply ill-fated was hazy. Not even unlucky. Only what stick had been pulled at the beginning of his life.
He pondered what he would think if he had known prior. Beg an unknown deity for mercy? Hold Jungkook so incredibly close, in case he couldn't leave for a second, in case he'd miss the sensation of his last breathe slipping away. Anger was so useless. The emotion wouldn't have mattered then and didn't matter, there stood in the greenest of greens.
The last part was accurate - Jungkook's death caused shockwaves across the globe. Maybe it was his eyes, but all color dulled a shade. Korea lost a cultural icon. Major renewed emphasis on the importance of safe driving. The Idol industry shifted, some companies taking advantage of Bangtan's hiatus, some idols retiring, forced to understand the importance of life, and others striving to replicate the significance Jungkook once held. It was like reality fell out of place, no one the same as before.
But why was this being discussed, there, in a different world? The voice paused. Longer and longer the silence went as if they were purposely dragging it along for proper dramatic tension. Hoseok shifted his gaze from above to the others.
Taehyung's eyes began to widen.
"Admitting to its own misjudgment, it has decided to give you six a chance to restore his life."
Hoseok didn't want to believe it. But he was captivated before his mind could process. The air shifted with great haste, even the wind anticipating the turn of events. Believing would make him a fool. He couldn't afford foolish decisions, anymore.
Bangtan detached from Namjoon's firm stance. All functions wiped out from the innermost parts of their bodies. What a terribly cruel joke it would be, if they suddenly awoke soaked in sweat, spread atop their bedsheets. Hoseok waited for a merciless chuckle to drop the faux screen of green, hopeful, summer, revealing a dry, dead, midnight desert.
Hoseok was nothing but a fool.
No take-back came. The stillness stretched until it became awkward. Someone had to say something; the voice refused to carry the conversation further. Their spokesman's, Namjoon, mouth was agape, face pale, clearly unable to form any coherent sentence.
He could have tried, himself. But his sanity relied on the promise so heavily that he refused to accidentally sputter the wrong thing. Eventually, the second eldest managed. The birds sang a distant song.
"Um - who - who are you?" Yoongi asked with a mild stutter, quick breathing able to be spotted from a mile away.
"The message."
"The message?" The rapper relayed, tossing them a confused glance. He mouthed, "what the fuck?" only a tiny fraction of the profane words that fit their perplexing, anxiety-inducing, situation. The message chuckled, the way that a storm would let out a rumble of warning before a strike of lightning.
All but one could speak no longer. When he did, it was as though an entirely different person than who they knew stepped forward, and pleaded.
"Are you serious?" Taehyung stared up at the blue ocean above, confident, like speaking to an old friend. "About the chance? We can bring Kookie back?"
"You're here, aren't you?" A different tone. They were fond of Tae, unlike how they were amused by Hoseok and Namjoon's attempts at defense, and casual with Yoongi.
And yes, they were. The six of them were conscious, grounded, and if he closed his eyes and pictured a familiar setting, it would be no different from Seoul. Breathing in new life, Hoseok was, becoming accustomed to the crisp freshness of the air and gradually believing in what he should know wasn't possible.
It hit Hoseok with renowned virtue that this was the mistake they were told to fix, a bullet to his unprepared chest. Pressure collapsed his shoulder girdle.
Like the rational Saint he was, Namjoon regained enough composure to prevent any further exploitation of his member's soft, neglected, resistance. His sharp tongue tinged with ice. "People can't come back to life."
"How would you know?"
Namjoon took a step back, visibly struck by the sass.
"Be - because they don't. That doesn't happen."
"Not from your perspective, no. Not yet."
Those last two words broke the remains of his progressing spirit. Namjoon retreated into his shadow, dropping his head, drooping his shoulders. Not yet. Like there was a chance. Hoseok's heart leaped out from his chest and clung around that chance, as vague as it was. Namjoon's ice melted into a meek puddle spelling out the word mercy.
"Please don't give us false hope."
Finally having pity, language was spoken that Namjoon understood. "I don't waste my time with lies."
"Time is wasted when you aren't paying enough attention."
"Perhaps it is. Perhaps time is wasted even when you do."
Namjoon's head rose. Diamond tears were welling in his eyes. His posture screamed that he didn't want to believe, that like Hoseok, he could not afford the hope that their Jungkook could be back in their arms. His face betrayed him. All that shone was prospect. Risk taking was embedded in their nature, and this was a game they could not ignore.
"Are you interested in bringing Jeon Jungkook back to life?"
Their leader scanned each of their faces with attention to the most intricate details. Hesitance was what he was searching for, the slightest sign that even a singular member who wished to wake up right back at home. Some, like Yoongi and Jin, were stoic, but not in objection. The other three, including Hoseok, nodded their approval.
Jungkook was all that mattered.
Bound in each other's hands, they stepped off the edge of the cliff.
". . yes."
The color of the sky shifted, becoming a more cobalt blue. Hoseok found it gorgeous, but could not appreciate the earth (betting that was where they still were.) The darker shade meant prices were about to be exchanged; he was not ignorant to the way life gambled over the littlest of things. Ten thousand, one million, ten million, he'd hand it over in a heartbeat. The surrounding noises quieted, all but the birds, still enclosed in perfect harmony. Listen to me, very clearly, what was remained unsaid.
"The universe is capable of handing out life, as well as taking it. There is no rule that life can't be handed twice to an individual, however, that blessing is used sparingly." How many tragedies could have been reversed? How many lives that should not have been taken remained that way? Bile rose in his throat, thinking of the hundreds of massive catastrophes that could have been easily forgotten.
"Those who die are usually more content with it than most think. Sometimes they're better off the way they already are. Sometimes the world is pitied for what they have lost. In your case, Jungkook wouldn't be opposed to his resurrection."
There was a multitude of ways Hoseok could have interpreted that. Jungkook wanted to come home. Jungkook had been waiting patiently all this time. Louder, the birds picked up at the chorus, and it may have been a sad song they were singing.
"There is no indication that Jungkook can not have his life returned to him. He was a good man, and never caused harm to anyone. His general impact was positive," Hoseok smiled, beaming with pride, "however. . " His smile dropped, along with his stomach, and the easy fantasy he was creating.
"Regeneration does come at a high cost."
Millions in Won was not the price the message was asking for. He could scramble for a checkbook and write out his entire bank account, but monetary value meant nothing in the uncivilized world they existed in.
Hoseok picked up the non verbal indication that they could speak. "What . . cost?"
"Three tasks. The each of you will complete three tasks."
(His flight or fight senses were already preparing to kick in.)
"The tasks you all will have to endure are not easy. They are specifically designed to test, if not, break you. You have to prove the importance of Jungkook's life, how far you are willing to go."
Anywhere.
"They are beatable. But you must be aware that the consequences of failing these tasks may be devastating, and they are easier to lose than to win."
Devastating - that was a word he knew well, and applied to most of the past three hundred sixty-five days. Devastating - waves of angry water rushing over your body, paralyzed on the shore, helpless to turn back time. The cryptic, wordy, instructions quickly clicked into place.
"You're saying we could die."
"If you wish to be so blunt."
Cold was all that Hoseok felt. Namjoon looked seconds away from being sick. Seokjin's skin blanched, and Hoseok was pretty sure he was sick. Yoongi froze and did nothing to confirm he even heard the material. Jimin looked as though he was readying to argue, to deny and deny. Taehyung's face did not change. Hoseok was only cold.
"There will be a way to leave these tasks, but that will be counted as an automatic forfeit. There are only three finishing options. Success, failure, or death."
A third of a chance, two-thirds on the opposite side. The odds stacked heavily against them. Hoseok was no mathematician and he doubted that was the proper way to explain their chances, but it was a 33 percent chance - imagining it lower and he wouldn't have had the strength to ask again.
"Will we be alone? Or with each other?"
"A blend."
(Somehow, that was even worse.)
"You may discuss."
Namjoon turned clean around, as though his wide back shielded the entire sky from listening in. "How much do you guys believe this?"
"Do you not see where we are right now?" Seokjin waved sporadically, going for the dramatics with a spin. The adrenaline pumping through his veins was practically visible, a fluorescent glow amidst the pale shade of his skin. "This obviously isn't a dream, or hallucination, anymore. We're here. And Jungkookie is somewhere out there, too."
Yoongi swallowed, his jaw lightly trembling. He could not maintain eye contact with any one of them, opting to focus on the grass between his toes, instead. His voice nearly lost itself to the thin wind.
"I don't know. I don't want to convince myself it's true and then have it not be. I want to find him, I want to bring him home, but I can't do that. That would be like losing him all over again."
Jimin's lips turned downwards into a frown, his small hand gently rubbing Yoongi's back. As he spoke his eyes maintain fixated on his down-facing features, warped in concern. "I believe it. I don't believe that we really have much of a chance." A mild shrug. "We aren't exactly survivalists."
"But we have a chance." Hoseok countered. "One-third of a chance. Is this legit? Could we really -"
"Yes," the younger dancer breathed in a modest breath of air through his nose. "But they said -"
"Consequences. Failure." Namjoon reiterated, emphasizing his point clean in front of them. Death was not something to meddle with. "I don't think we should risk our own lives for a third of a chance -"
"I want to try."
The group turned to Taehyung, who declared it soft and low. A pause.
It was as though the youngest waved a magic wand and now all we're leaning towards the same side.
"Well," Seokjin raised his thick brows, "what if we did?
Jungkook would run into their arms and thank them for saving him. Jungkook would smile and cry and ask if he could really come home. Vividly nostalgic pictures bloomed in their minds, delicate, velvety, like the most vibrant flowers. They enhanced, further, and further, until they were able to lean in closer, and smell the fragrant scents emitting from Jungkook's face pressed against their chests, strong arms embracing with a year's worth of pent-up love.
Yoongi snapped himself out of the delusion, twitching his nose and shaking his head. "No, no - What if one of us dies and Jungkook stays dead?
There would only be night for the rest of their lives. All good in the world would cease to exist for a second time, but the flowers would never re-bloom. They'd shut down completely, retiring, going off the grid, unable to face what their eagerness had done.
The utter despair of failure rendering them completely useless to do anything but grieve. Plainly, it would kill them. Not even knowing that Jungkook was no longer alone could ease that ferocious guilt.
But how could he look at himself knowing that he had given up a chance that millions of others would take in a heartbeat? He would be ungrateful. A coward. Jungkook would've done it for him.
"I can't lose anyone else." Yoongi finished with an attempt to clear his throat, to tame the welling emotion.
"What if we don't?"
Hoseok couldn't track back to where the sudden courage appeared. For a fleeting minute, death was an afterthought. It was not a forever feeling, but it was enough to glaze over how his voice was a pathetic tremor as he spoke.
"What if we get Jungkook back? With everyone alive. "What if we do it?" When no one opposed, he continued, staring directly into the wetness of their widened eyes. "Think about it. We could hug him, and see him, and tell him everything that we couldn't. He could be ours again."
The visions flooded back into their minds, bright, beautiful, promising. He hadn't needed to say more; it was unspoken knowledge that Jungkook was all that they could ever ask for before they knew him, and a year after they lost him.
"I want to try," Taehyung repeated, in a medium ranged pitch. The simple confidence, lingering with longing, continued to infect them with growing motivation. Strength. All they could rely on was on their strength, which proved itself in ways they never imagined, in the worst of their dreams. Yoongi's head lifted.
"Do you - do you think we could? We can get Jungkookie back?" And Hoseok knew that time he was asking if they'd be able to prevail. Faith glistened in his brown eyes, a tribute of the fight he had never given up on.
"That was him," he fixated his stare onto his elder, reassuring with all that was left in him. "That was his voice. He's here, somewhere. He's calling out for us like he wants us to try, too."
"I want to try. I want to try." Taehyung's voice raised with urgency. Namjoon held the side of his neck to calm him, gesturing his free appendage downwards to cease conversation.
"Does everyone want to try?"
A series of small nods, nonverbal agreements, spread through the group like sickness did in their shared space. The scent around them was thick with desperation. A melody of twittering the only sweet in their sour taste of fore coming battle. All that was needed was war paint to personify the intensity of their situation.
"For him?" Jimin nodded, squinting his eyes. "Yes."
So it was decided. They'd gamble for lives for the possible entertainment of whichever ageless beings were observing. Gladiators fought for glory, Hoseok differed, and they were fighting for the epitome of beauty itself. It was different. He admonished skepticism for the last time. From then on, he swore to consider emotion for what truly mattered. Beauty itself.
Gathering the knowledge that your life was in imminent danger prompted a series of emotions most did not feel at ages as young as theirs. He was young, but not overly so. He was not the member with the greatest popularity. He did not think his death would be considered a tragedy like Jungkook's was. Glancing about, none of the others thought differently. He had no idea how to say that their mere existence was as devastating as Jungkook's was.
"Hey," Seokjin unexpectedly slashed the breathing period with a stern voice. His usage of it twice in a single night was almost as rare as an occasion of being summoned by the universe itself. One glance into his eyes diminished the idea of genuine impatience. He was exhibiting fear in the only, embarrassment free, way he knew how. "None of you - I mean, none of you will die. I will be so mad that I'll empty the kitchen trash all over your bed, do you understand?"
"Yes, Jin-Hyung," a chorus of five, bemused, voices.
"Promise that you will not die."
"I promise, Jin-Hyung."
"AndthatIgetfirstdibstohugJungkookie-"
"That's not fair!" Hoseok protested, among a series of outcries, but Jin gave a charming smile and wink, beaming with pride with his esteemed wittiness.
"Don't die," he sang. Then his face strained.
Namjoon stepped in closer, causing an instinctual chain reaction for them all to close into a tight circle, arms slung over shoulders, heads bowed and some tilted to press temples together. They left a single empty space, right between Namjoon and Seokjin.
"Okay, okay, listen to me." His pep talk burrowed inside of Hoseok's chest. A yearning to remember it explicit enough to recount when he inevitably shrunk in on himself from fear. "We got this. We can do this. We've made it through everything - including losing Kookie. If we can survive that. . we can survive anything."
Just barely, Namjoon forgot to add. Just barely had they survived.
"We have each other and that's all that matters. Even if we are separated, do not forget that, no matter what is thrown at you or what you have to go through. We will wait entire days for you to make it to the end, got that? We'll be there. And we'll do it."
"For Kook," Jimin's silvery voice became gold with determination.
"For Kook," Namjoon repeated, warmth flooding into his voice, and face. It paralleled how he smiled upon catching sight of Jungkook for the first time, shaggy hair frantically disappearing into a nervous bow. Hoseok stood behind them. He wondered how long he would last, and, how soft his hair was.
One, two, three - six hands into a pile - "Bangtan!" His legs trembled with nerves, he psyched himself out, manipulating himself to believe that they were simply preparing for an important show. He focused on the non existent choreography and promised to do his best; for the team, for the fans, for everyone who missed Jungkook, too.
They cracked their formation but their hands remained tightly locked. There was no guarantee they ever had privacy, though Hoseok appreciated that they weren't interrupted.
"Very well, then. You all are in agreement?"
Granting Namjoon a break, for it was his own fault that they were walking through a precarious door, Hoseok answered. "Yes."
Dimmer the sky became. Like a warm summer evening. His bones would not stop rattling, trapped in winter that had never existed.
"These are the terms. You complete the tasks, Jungkook's life is restored. You fail, and Jungkook remains in the afterlife. Depending on the severity of your failure, someone else may join him. I understand that's probably rather inviting."
It was so inviting that Hoseok almost asked for early admission.
"But it will not be for those who will remain alive."Seokjin, whose large hand was connected to his, tapped the back of his palm with his thumb, a firm reminder. Endearing and terrifying it was when he demonstrated his two years superiority. "Any purposeful attempts to end one's life will be intercepted. Not all are required to complete these tasks in order for Jungkook's resurrection. Even if only one finishes, they will be the singular one rewarded."
Feeling Yoongi freeze up beside him, Hoseok whispered gravely, loud enough that five pairs of ears could catch it. "Not happening. We're not explaining that to him."
"Once the tasks are completed, said winners, or winner, will return to Earth along with Jungkook. It will be November 10th, 2020, all over again. The rest of the world will never know. More importantly, Jungkook will not know." His Hyung's grips became achingly tight. "He will be entirely oblivious, and arrive home, as though nothing happened."
No more was necessary. They wouldn't have the luxury of forgetting; Hoseok pushed that to the back of his mind.
"Do you agree to these terms?"
Taehyung must have squeezed Namjoon's hand because he replied without hesitation. "Yes, we agree."
"Very well. You will be given three tasks in total, one right after the other. Prepare yourself for the worst. Unfortunately, the price of life is high."
Namjoon squinted his eyes, calculating every word.
"You sound disappointed."
"If I could, Kim Namjoon, I would give him to you right now."
The definitive intonation left them no choice but to accept it as truthful. The message was not their enemy, yet not their closest friend. For a moment, he was comforted, but then disturbed; something else was leaving them out for the dogs to eat.
"Any questions?"
Many, too many. Unexpectedly, Seokjin was the one who confronted, unlike himself. Although when Jungkook was the question, it was second nature.
"Is Jungkook safe? And happy? Somewhere?"
"Yes, he is."
"Is he aware of this?"
"No, he isn't."
"Then why was he calling for us?"
"The universe created manipulation. Don't you think it would use it? Don't be worried, Bangtan. He's been fine all this time."
Hoseok was rapidly developing a grudge against his creator. Though relieved Jungkook was not in peril, his stomach slowly sank into a river of unease.
Deep inside, he knew the teasing acted as a hint to what was coming ahead. The universe created all the big and little fears. His personal tasks would not consist of small spiders and flying bugs.
They'd tear him apart, alive.
"Your tasks will begin in sixty seconds. Speak what you must now. Good luck, Bangtan." The message and its ominous presence faded. Sound and original color were restored yet it was background scenery all the same.
"I love you." Hoseok turned and the sentiment rolled off his tongue. "All of you. I love you."
Jimin broke into his bright and charming grin, running into his arms for a quick hug. Hoseok squeezed his waist tight, thinking of the promised danger ahead. He couldn't lose Jimin. He couldn't lose any more of them. A minute was not enough to say what he needed to, to hold them all the same way he held Jimin.
Then again, anything was better than the half-assed goodbye he tossed Jungkook's way. He wouldn't spend the minute he had longing for more.
Turning from his chest to face the others, Jimin spoke earnestly next, genuine love and emotion bleeding onto his face. "I'm so grateful for all of you. Really. You're my best friends, I don't know what I'd do without you."
Namjoon placed a hand on Yoongi's shoulder, and the other on Taehyung's. The worry lines in his forehead momentarily smoothed, likely the last time he'd experience peace until they reached the finish line. Anyway, with unrestricted adoration in his eyes, he enunciated the truth within his declaration. "I'm so proud of you, of us. I always have been. I wouldn't choose anything else."
It was always you, and you, and you, Hoseok's mind ran at full speed. Fifty seconds, or forty. There was no other option for me besides you.
When was the last time he thanked Namjoon for all that he had done for them? Their gratefulness was almost always the silent type. Hadn't he learned his lesson?
"Thank you. For everything." Hoseok wouldn't outright denounce his quietest Hyung for his lack of elaboration, but he longed for more. He wanted to hear Yoongi's low voice speak a million, mindless, words, ranting about his passions and the smallest details of all of his opinions, in the exact sense he did in those hidden moments of security, pouring his heart out and trusting Hoseok would handle it with care.
There had to be a lesson in his madness. What he had was never enough, so long as it wasn't forever.
Time was wasted even when you do.
"I wouldn't change anything about you guys," Seokjin's smile was that rare one fans loved dearly - the gentle curve of his full lips, the slight bow of his head. Then it twitched into mischief. "I love all of you."
He managed a smile at Jin's corny joke. They'd always throw an arm over their eyes and groan whenever he tossed one out. He never told him how great he enjoyed them in secret when he was alone and affectionately considered the silly character of his Hyung, when the lights were low and he repeated the punchline, laughing softly to himself. He feared it was too late.
Taehyung refused to tame the fire in his eyes as he spoke, disallowing his conviction to falter. "I love you." There was no goodbye. Simply a confession. Had they all been layering their admissions with farewells? Hoseok's mind spun. This couldn't be their end. He tried to convey the message with his eyes, this won't kill us, I won't let it.
Yet they studied each other's features as though they would never be able to again. I won't forget that freckle, that scar. I won't forget what you told me and the look in your eyes as you said it. There had to be less than twenty seconds left, and Jimin still hadn't let go. If anything he was locking in closer.
Fifteen. He felt the rush of fear and how it blinded all of his senses. Ten. The unsaid words rested on his tongue, burying a shallow grave into the tissue with their own shovels. Five. He already forgot which eyebrow Seokjin preferred to raise.
Was he ready to die? Was anyone ever ready to die? He avoided the question, but life perpetually pushed him into a corner where he had no choice but to consider. He remembered his first experience with death - a pet dog that came down with a sudden illness and was gone by the time he returned from his second-grade class. All he could recall was asking his mother how someone couldn't simply come back. He filled the food and water dish for two weeks after, his innocent heart learning the grievances of life every time he found it just as full as he left it. Since then death became a part of the life he could not escape. He considered himself someone who escaped often. Yet it was the only promise in life, a road with no speed limit, pushing you faster to the end, and it was here before he could prepare a greeting. It asked him if he was ready and he asked if he had a choice. If he was impending on his own set amount of time.
But for Jungkook he was. He knew that much.
Seokjin gently thumbed speckles of black dirt left on Yoongi's cheek, and the rapper made no move to wipe his hand away, grumbling while he flushed. Instead, he leaned into the touch and shut his eyes, focusing on the soft thumb, and not the goodbye silently whispered between them. Jimin, who had moved to Namjoon's side as the seconds dwindle, said something he couldn't catch even from the short distance; Namjoon's face twisted in grief and he squeezed his waist tighter, tighter until Jimin began to lose his solidity, disappearing through his fingertips.
The last thing Hoseok saw before everything went white, was Taehyung's fading face set in determination. He found himself thinking that if it was the last thing he ever saw, he was the luckiest man alive. He realized that the song the birds had been singing was their own. Everything went white.
---