The cliffs on both sides of him are made of muddy orange and dark brown Navajo sandstones, a thousand feet straight into the azure sky.
The Virgin River flows under his feet, icy snow-melt that soaks above his worn out hiking boots.
A dark silhouette walks in front of him, back hunched, metallic trekking pole digging into the river rocks with each step, the dull clanking sound echoing on his mind.
His frozen toes are all but a numbing afterthought, as the shadows of the looming cliffs overwhelm his mind, reminding him of how weak and insignificant he is.
The sky is a narrow ribbon of impossible blue above him, alluring and distance. Can the birds even reach this high? Can the wings of any earthy creature break through and soar above the shadows?
He blinks to rid of the dizziness and drags his thoughts back to the ground. His feet slip on bedrocks, the puffs of his shallow breaths turn to shaky white vapour, but he keeps following the figure ahead, determined not to lose purpose.
Clank. Clank.
Endless layers of stones in shades of maroon and grey, silent for a million years and millions more. The thought steals his tongue and dries his throat.
He wiggles his toes, and wills for the rhythmic motion to sooth his mind, one step at a time. Follow and trudge through, soon they will be out of the dark canyon, onto something else. Soon, they've got to be.
But the wind blows suddenly, ruffling up everything in the world. The shrubs vibrate, and birds gawk in the far distance, low urgent sounds blending into the whispering air, morphing into reverberating shrills that refuse to fade away.
The chilling water sloshes around his calves. The figure in front turns around, and he spots the glint of panic in his dad's eyes.
He opens his mouth but can't hear his own words. Instead, there's a shadow on the cliff walls in front of them, growing, rising, as the air crackles in dreaded tension, and a low rumble prickles his skin with goosebumps.
The stream sloshes and clashes violently, and the water level begins to rise underneath, coming alive to the rumble. When he finally sees the muddy waves of flood crashing and making its way down the narrow canyon bed ahead of them, it's already too late.
His tiny hand reaches toward dad's stiff back absently, and his eyes screw shut, not having the courage to face the inevitable.
A violent twitch. Taehyung's eyes snap open suddenly from the nightmare, as he pants and gasps for air. He blinks desperately to make sense of the surroundings - it's a dream; he repeats over and over inwardly, trying to calm the thundering heartbeat. It's a dream. But where is he now? The darkened room reminds him of the dozens of transient places before this, all cloaked in unfamiliarity and detachment.
He rubs his face, and stumbles towards the small window in front of him, pulling open the curtain forcefully. The moonlit beach outside is empty and silent, as Taehyung collapses back onto the bed in a daze, half trapped in the murky undertow of the dream.
The single bed, the worn out wooden table, his backpack half open on the floor haphazardly. He lets out a small sigh as recognition seeps back slowly.
Halaina. Right...
He listens to the shallow panting of his own breath, and wills for his thoughts to focus. This always happens when he ignores what worries him, pretends it doesn't exist. The nightmares are just his brain's way of making him deal with the unavoidable.
Fuck.
Taehyung sits on the bed for a while, allowing his body to calm down. Finally, a half grumble pushes out of the back of his throat, and he steps towards the small table.
A thin silver laptop sits on top, plugged in since the first day he's arrived. Taehyung sits down and opens it.
Password, fingerprint, booting up encrypted connectivity, more passwords and decoding, before finally arriving at the private chat-room.
It's decidedly old school, a black screen with green letters that flicker dimly as he types them in.
V: hi
Sixteen minutes pass before the response flickers back.
Helios: took you long enough.
Taehyung purses his lips, but his fingers find their way to the keyboard nonetheless.
V: I told you, I needed a break.
The bright letters twinkle against the black screen, like stars in a digital sky.
Helios: Then I'm glad the break is over now.
Taehyung pictures the way Hoseok smiles - all pearly whites and crinkly eyes, except there's always a touch of calculatedness in the gaze, a stiffness in the cheeks that makes it hard to tell what's on his mind.
A smile can mean many things, if you are observant. And Hoseok smiles a lot.
Instead of refuting, Taehyung does something more productive. He waits for Hoseok to continue.
And sure enough, the screen flickers again.
Helios: I have a request that's been outstanding since the week you went on "break". It's very urgent now.
The room feels cold. Taehyung eyes the cracked open window and types back.
V: what is it
The response blinks by the time he grabs the thin blanket off the bed and curls back into the small wooden chair.
Helios: There's a former PAG agent that had left the country with critical intel. We need to find him.
The sentence strikes Taehyung as odd, in its roundabout way. But what's new, most of what Hoseok requests are odd for reasons Taehyung would rather not know.
What's the point, anyway. Not like he can say no to whatever Hoseok asks for. So he scratches his head and responds.
V: I'll see what I can do, send it over.
He stares at the words on the screen, and biting into his lower lip, adds.
V: Can I go back to my break for a while after I finish this?
The response comes back right away.
Helios: Of course. Halaina must be very nice this time of the year, enjoy.
The words make him shiver and tighten the blanket wrapped around his torso.
Helios: Let me know when you find him. You'll be working with Loey on this request, good luck.
Helios has left the chatroom. [click to download attachment]
Taehyung spends the next hour reading through the attached file. It's amazing how a person's life can be summarized neatly in a pile of digital pages - past, present, sins and desires, friends or foe. He reads through the document twice, jotting down names and cities that could be researched upon, making a web on his mind to connect all the dots in this particular life.
The laptop beeps wearily, jolting him out of focus. He opens a new chat-room assigned to him.
Loey: V!
Ugh.
Loey: V omg I haven't talked to you for like, what is it, a year. This is awesome!
Taehyung winces but responds.
V: hi
Loey: Dude I heard what happened to Victoria, I'm so sorry. I know you guys always worked together and must've been close.
Taehyung furrows his brows and types back the response hastily.
V: Let's stick to the case, please.
Loey: sure, of course. Sorry.
A pause.
Loey: so where do you want to start? Arley Sala, PAG agent for five years, last seen in Boulder Colorado, near his home... It's almost too simple, no? Why does Helios need us for this?
Taehyung ignores the questions, and taps open all the software according to the list on his mind: banks accounts, credit cards, phone history... the usual, not counting on finding anything since anyone with entry level field experience would know to keep the usual digital trails clean.
Loey: It's his own agent, you'd think he has all the database to track his own people down.
Taehyung grumbles. That's the thing with Loey. One of the best coders he's ever known, knows more languages than he could count, unfazed by anything imaginable. But. For the few times they've ever worked together, Loey has always been... unhinged, reckless, talking and acting as if they're not being monitored and recorded for every tiny move.
As if this isn't a job that costs lives.
Taehyung sighs, thinking of the orange-capped pill bottle in the backpack. This is going to be a long night.
V: Please, I work better with less chatter. I'll do all the usual stuff, can you start going through airport and train station cameras?
Loey: sure!
Taehyung wraps himself in the blanket before getting up to fish out the unassuming small pill bottle. The small orange pills tumble into his palm with a slight tilt of the bottle. Taehyung pops it before his thoughts catch up with him, feeling the faint hint of vanilla ghosting on his tongue.
A familiar voice echoes on the recess of his mind, low and warm, "You and your pills. Ugh, that nasty artificial taste..."
He pauses, blinking at the memory, letting it sting and soothe at the same time. But it goes away, and the darkness in front of him returns, alone, with the blueish glare of the laptop monitor blinking back at him.
Taehyung takes a stuttered inhale and starts working.
The pill hits after ten minutes or so, to his relief. His fingers move a little faster, clicking between a dozen screens, typing up codes and messages, searching and digging around the world, checking under every digital rock. They go through photos, surveillance videos, phone recordings and money transactions. Every person in the world leaves trails as they live, no matter how carefully they try to conceal them. The problem, in this case, is to separate the false trails from the real ones, to track down a former agent smart enough to take them on a wild goose chase.
Loey: flight from Washington to Gatwick, custom check-through... then no more transactions, phone chip shows location 56 miles away from the airport... so he's still in UK somewhere?
V: Do a search through his phone conversations for the past six months instead, internet activities. See if there are unusual locations.
Loey: ok! Hmm, most text messages are from unidentifiable sources. Doing a word match now... Some mentions of Dublin, some London...
Not it.
The words flash and pause on the screen. Loey is as always, an excellent hacker, dizzyingly pulling up transaction location, phone call records, purchase history, street cameras, down to "the third cousin that lives in Arizona that called three months ago from a Wendy's drive-thru at 2am"...
Not it.
"But how do you know?" Victoria's voice ghosts over his mind, laced with the familiar early morning grogginess, "how do you always know what 'it' is?"
Taehyung chuckles to the tendrilled thoughts: survival, maybe? In the end, in the last moments of despair, even the most broken ones fight for survival.
The various screens and software displays move and flicker as his fingers slide across the touch pad, each clamouring for his attention. His mind picks up minor details from each piece of information, connecting them into a life story.
Favorite chips that he buys over and over, two college friends to hang out with every month, frequented hiking trails in his city...
What are you hiding, where are you hiding?
The realization finally dawns upon him, after listening to a few dozen phone recordings of perfectly mundane messages: it's too calm, all too ordinary.
Humans are messy. It's when they become perfectly calm and predictable, day after day, that you know they're desperately trying to hide something.
And this man, this unassuming Arley Sala with not a hint of drama or mistake in his life, has been living under a facade for years.
Loey: V... Maybe we take a break... It's been 9 hours, we've looked at everything...
Taehyung blinks hard and looks up, suddenly noticing the bright sunlight streaming through the window.
His eyes glaze through the window, staring straight through it. His mind races between all the millions of little details, as chemicals hum through his veins contently.
Something clicks in his thoughts.
V: there was a reoccurring coffee shop in his purchase history.
Loey: We went through the purchase history three times already. The man has the most boring taste.
Taehyung pulls up the record himself and scans through it.
Loey: dude, I need some sleep...
V: Cafe Guinefort.
Loey:... I think he's allowed coffee once in a while.
A consistent purchase of about twice a week, with slightly different orders each time.
That name, Guinefort... Taehyung does a quick search online and remembers, ah yes, the fable he read about as a child. Of a dog that became a local saint, after wrongfully killed by his very owner.
Hmm.
V: I just checked, there is a cafe registered in his city under that name, and an address. But no store front, no earnings, all transactions hidden.
Loey: !
Taehyung looks at the transactions again, noting the dollar amounts each time, and finally lets out a labored exhale: Nihilist cypher.
Loey: what?
Yep. The transaction amounts are small and reasonable each time, but when strung together over weeks, the telltale symmetry of the encryption system reveals itself.
V: it's an old system, he's got classic taste.
The encryptions are merely letters, probably need to be in their clique to understand what they mean, but right under their nose, right on a public credit card bill.
Taehyung scoffs, the guts. No wonder Hoseok is upset enough to order for this search.
Another 20 minutes of search into the coffee shop that's not a coffee shop, and finally a lead.
Loey: well that was one heck of a disguise, three layers of holding companies, two offshore accounts later. Tada!
Swift transaction records received at an address in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia, of an accounting firm.
Once there's a lead, then the casting of the web becomes much easier. They track through every individual, every organization has been in contact with the firm. Street cameras, cell phone activities, down to traffic flow around the office building. Loey runs all the known organizations in Saudi that oppose the US, and checks against Arley's history, looking for possible motives.
How to narrow it down.
Taehyung reads the list of organizations over and over, letting all the details mingle on his mind. He tries to visualize Boulder based on his knowledge, of mountain ranges and wilderness beyond the city limits, of the hiking trails Arley would always pick, the most difficult summits that you have to scramble for hours to reach. That feeling of pushing your body to the brink, of delirious satisfaction on top of a desolate mountain top, spent but accomplished.
Somehow the fable fits in perfectly, for some inexplicable reason. Guinefort, the loyal dog that guarded the owner's son with everything he had, only to be slaughtered for a mere misunderstanding. The same extreme emotions, that momentary powerlessness and surrender.
V: In one of his phone recordings...
Loey: yeah? Which one?
Taehyung tries to recall Arley's voice as they heard, always stiffly diplomatic. But there was a late night phone conversation, more worn out and a little slurred. About how the mountain ranges in Colorado are different.
V: brown sandstone... deep valleys... dark earth tones in sandstorms...
Loey: ok. He likes hiking, we knew that already right off the bat...
V: but he's never had a mission relating to the middle east. No connection to Saudi on paper.
Loey: true...
Taehyung looks up mountain ranges based on the organization list, matching them to the description and potential motives. His eyes eventually land on one range: Sarawat mountains, bordering Yemen and Saudi, of imposing sandstone hills that form the backdrop of the capital city Sana'a. Frequent occurrence of sandstorms.
A political hotbed between the Houthi rebels and US-backed Saudi coalition..
V: search for any interaction between the accounting firm and Yemen
Loey: ok. There are a few accounts that link to Ta'izz and Mukalla along the coast. Oh, and one to this small town called Sayyan near Sana'a, deep in the mountain valley.
Hmm. Taehyung pulls up satellite links and searches for aerials of Sayyan. It is indeed small, consisting of dusty low rise abodes, a local clinic, and an old mosque of bricks and cracked plaster.
Completely unassuming, glaringly so.
V: no signs of raids, missile attacks, nothing.
Loey: ... hmm, right, no recent conflicts on record.
Taehyung stares at the pristine grass fields surrounding the little mosque at the center of the town, a mere 27 km from Sana'a, where civil war has reduced most neighborhoods to piles of rubble since 2014.
An area that neither side of the war dares to touch.
V: how much money has been sent to the account linked to Sayyan?
Loey: 50 million Rials, about 200k USD each year. For the past 15 years at least.
V: and you can't trace the source.
Loey: nope. All missing, completely empty. Whoever did it has high level access in Yemen.
Of course, they must be getting closer.
V: do a last name search in the city.
Loey: ... there's no formal census for the city. But wait, one family with the last name Sala that's picked up in cellphone searches. Hmm but all calls have been wiped as well. Audios... wait... yeah the few audio files I could find from that phone are garbled.
Bingo.
V: I think you've finally earned your sleep.
Loey: OMG V, for real? You think this is where he is?
V: I'll talk to Helio. Thanks, Loey. Until next time.
Loey: for sure! Oh man I'm so wiped. But it was awesome, as always. Don't be a stranger -
Taehyung exits the chatroom before Loey finishes typing.
He rubs his face harshly, letting the silence of the room calm his wayward mind. Eventually, he pops back into the other chat-room, types up two words before slamming the laptop shut.
Taehyung waits. The afternoon sun cuts through the small window, spilling blinding rays over the wooden floor, giving him a pulsing headache.
It took ten minutes, or maybe a lifetime, for the cheap disposable phone in his bag to ring.
Taehyung goes to grab the phone.
"So you found him?" The voice is sweet and casual as usual, drawing shivers up his spine.
"Yes. But that's not why you assigned me to this case, was it."
A long hum at the other end of the phone, teasing.
Taehyung murmurs, "Arley's past is all fabricated. His birth certificate in the US, growing up in Colorado, all fake. And you wanted me to verify it."
A pause, then a faint chuckle, as if Taehyung dreamt it up, "My hands were tied, you see. I always suspected something was off when he was assigned to me, but that was part of the deal, his past files to be erased even to me."
"Was it something to do with his family? The continuous funding, the protection of the entire town. They did something so great that deserved the backing of the US government."
"You can say that, yes. I don't have all the details, but from what I can gather, his father had contributed greatly to the coalition's position in the region."
Taehyung gulps and avoids thinking of the implication of those words. A proxy war, they call it, where major forces like the US extend invisible hands from behind closed curtains, as local civilian corpses pile into the sky.
Taehyung's fingers grip onto the phone, voice turning lower, "But Guinefort... They always felt unsafe, always kept in touch, no matter how impossible. Something happened recently, didn't it. The backing didn't last forever."
Silence.
"What was it? A policy change? Another trade in the region? His family was no longer protected. And then he was gone..."
"Taehyung."
"You always knew where he'd be. But it was better that I found him. Your hands are clean. No breach of any confidential intel. Why did he suddenly turn on you, hmm? All these years, he's been more than loyal, so very obedient. Why - oh, oh my -"
"Taehyung. Stop."
The words thistle in his throat, but he pushes them out, no matter how ragged they suddenly make him feel, "He wasn't turning on you, hence the sudden disappearance. He did nothing wrong, all he wanted - all he wanted was to go home..."
Another long pause. When Hoseok finally speaks again, his voice is quieter, "International diplomacy is messy, never black and white, we simply cannot take any risk. Some casualties are necessary for the greater good. Taehyung, you confirmed my suspicions, you did very well, both you and Loey."
Taehyung closes his eyes, and wills for the voice to not get to him. But it's too late. A familiar sense of icy dread slithers up along his arms, making his heart suffocatingly heavy. He thinks of the lush grass outside the tiny mosque, and the hundreds of dusty houses on the peaceful streets, sleeping beneath the dark mountain ranges that Arley must've dreamt of endlessly. What will become of them now? No longer under protection, but instead harboring someone that knows too much to stay alive. All because Loey and him tapped on a keyboard for a while and peeked at a secret that's best left erased.
They stay silent on the phone for a long time. And when Taehyung finally speaks again, he tightens his fists and keeps his voice unaffected, "I wish you wouldn't pick me for these internal cases against our own agents. Especially -" he chokes on the words put pushes them out stubbornly, not caring if they hurt, "-especially considering what happened."
"I understand. But you're the best I have. Anyone can code or run tracking softwares, but very few can really get into the mind of other people, to sense their fears and darkest desires. Take it as a compliment."
Taehyung swallows the bitterness, snuffing out all the pained thoughts that are threatening to lash out, reducing it all to but the most basic words necessary to release him from Hoseok's hold, "May I please go back to my break now? Are we even for at least a while?"
A muted sigh, "As you wish. Let's talk another time. Have fun at the surf shop."
Taehyung hangs up and hurls the phone onto the floor with a growl.
It takes him a while to regroup his composure and step out of the room, stumbling on the stairs down. A gust of wind chokes him, stirring up sand and the salty mist that lingers around the house perpetually. Taehyung pauses, but realizes there's no other choice. He can't stomach being in that room any longer. Something might finally snap.
His thoughts are muddled, mixed with the azure and millions of tiny invisible particles of sand. Suddenly, the sensation of cold water sloshing around his ankles snaps him out of the daze. Somehow he's walked straight into the patch of beach in front of the house. He stumbles back, squinting at the rays reflecting off the waves.
A loud squawk next to him makes him snap his head. Several feet away from him, a bird with brown speckled feathers is attacking something on the ground with its long curved beak. He finds himself walking towards it, and winces when the thing on the ground suddenly flaps desperately.
It's a small fish merely inches away from the edge of a wave, bulged eye glassy and unflinching. There's a large opening on its pale belly, and the long curved beak pokes at it relentlessly, probing, searching. Taehyung wants to shoo away the bird, to walk away, but his limbs are frozen in place, denying an easy escape.
You deserve it, deserve to see it through and feel their pain. Live with what you've caused.
The belly trembles and glistens in the sun. The eye never closes.
"Ugh! That's gross, stop looking at it!" A push on his arm jolts him awake, and a hand reaches in and tosses the fish into the waves, "Oh god, I had to touch it. Ugh dude, you better be grateful!"
Taehyung sees the dewy skin and rosy lips, and hears the familiar loud chuckle, "You ok? Man you look like you just saw a ghost. Don't worry, it's pretty rare to see a dead fish like that here. Can't believe i touched it, yuck."
Taehyung forces his brain to recognize, "Jin."
"Yes, Jin. We have met four times already, I sure hope you remember my name." He leans in suspiciously, "Did you smoke up with Jimin last night? Drank a little too much? You don't look right."
"I'm... I'm fine."
"Hmm." Jin gives him another look, "C'mon, let's just get out of the water then. Jeez, I have to watch out for Yoon, Joonie, now you too."
They step out of the waves and meander back towards the house, Jin's voice is chirpy, "... so I closed out shop early today. Joonie went to pick up Yoon at school already, we'll go together when they're back."
Taehyung looks at him with a blank stare.
Jin flutters his hand, "Open house at town hall. Were you listening to me at all? Same developer that came around a year ago, Omelas Corp." Dramatic huff, "Real estate developers, feels like we fend off a dozen every year. But they just keep coming back. Ugh."
Taehyung nods as acknowledgement.
"But this one is more interested in the land south of town, right around here. It's ok, the town council is bound to reject their proposal. Olowalu is sacred, our pu'u honua. They'll never succeed, I'll make sure of it, we will."
There's a glimmer in Jin's eyes, like a tiny flame that imbues warmth to those around him. Taehyung is suddenly grateful for it, and wonders if Jin's extra chatty to put him at ease.
"You guys seem happy here."
Jin looks at him, incredulous, "Of course, we're with ohana. Family. Some take more efforts than others," he rolls his eyes, "but how can we not be happy."
Jin pauses in front of the house, "So, what's the plan for the rest of the day? Maybe you should take a nap, nothing can't be fixed by a good nap, you know."
Taehyung looks up at the window of his room and feels the dread prickling at his skin again.
"Hmm, maybe not then. Say..." Jin's voice slows down, as his head looks up towards the dense forest behind the house, "Why don't you go for a walk?"
"Huh?"
"Yeah, ok, a walk." He points at the back of the house, "See the break between the shrubs there, it'll lead you on a path all the way to the top of the hill in the back. Short walk, very easy, beautiful view of the beach from top. I think it'll take your mind off things."
Taehyung stammers, "Um, I'm not sure..."
Jin's smile is toothy, "It'll be fun, I promise. Nothing a nice long walk can't fix, especially when there's a pretty view at the end. Only one path really, no way to get lost."
Taehyung responds politely, "I'll keep it in mind."
Jin nods thoughtfully, gazing shifting towards Taehyung's hands, "Still not wearing that ring you bought, I see."
"Hmm?" Taehyung follows his gaze absentmindedly, "Oh yeah, it's in my room somewhere."
A pause, then Jin shrugs, "Well, in time I guess. These things can't be rushed."
Taehyung starts to wonder if Jin's talking about a ring at all, but decides to keep it inside. Jin's words are always cryptic, but also strangely comforting.
"You know what, I think I better call Joonie again. He has this habit of talking to people and forgetting the time, Yoon's not gonna be happy if he's late again." Jin gestures at the shop, "You're good now, right? Won't go find dead fishes anymore?"
"I wasn't- "Taehyung starts but drops it, just nods and smiles wearily instead.
Jin turns away to walk, but his voice echoes behind him, refusing to be ignored, "Go hike. Live a little! And if you see a certain someone up there, tell him I know he's thinking about skipping the open house and he better show up."
Taehyung chalks up that last bit of cryptic message as another Jin-nism, but finds his own gazing sliding towards the pathway between the lush tropical leaves.
≋
He should've brought bug spray and water. And maybe one of those huge jungle machetes in movies when people cut down plants to traverse through a jungle.
Why is he traversing through a jungle again...
It's not really a jungle, if Taehyung is to be perfectly honest. He knows there are houses dotting along this hill, has observed the general scenery for days all the way down at the surf shop. And there is a path, well, sometimes the vegetation is so overgrown that it becomes a dipped line that zigzags through, but just like Jin has described, it's there, and reassuring, with no branches to cause confusion.
He is slowly going up, breath ragged and shirt turning sweaty. There's a burn in his thighs, and the fall inland air is still humid and heavy, draping over him like an invisible blanket that can be lifted with an arm wave.
Is he enjoying it, "living it a little", or whatever Jin said? Taehyung mulls on that as he swats away the shrubs brushing against his faded black jeans, and eventually decides on an inexplicable yes.
The mosquito bites on his arms will probably swell and itch even more in a few hours, but as he hikes into the unknown, with the vibrant floras around him and the rare sensation of physical exertion waking up all the cells of his body, his mind is finally at rest.
No more guilt, no more scheming to stay ahead of the game, just endless exotic lush trees that he cannot name, and wildflowers that steal his gaze.
It's nice to finally take deep breaths and inhale the scent of wet peat and crushed leaves.
His head spins, as sun rays shine through the rustling leaves, warming up his sweaty skin. An image drifts into his mind absently, of the deep tan on a muscular arm, draping heavily over his sickly pale limb, warm and drenched in lazy vitality.
Taehyung grumbles and kills the drifting thought on the spot. Memories like that are one's worst enemy, a dangerous addiction that he cannot afford to luxuriate in.
Stupid, useless memories, cloying in unfounded attachment and clouding his judgement.
No thoughts, just walk.
After another long stretch of hike, the trees recede, and the field opens up. He can see the hill now up ahead, lush and serene with sporadic stone steps slotted into the meandering path. And when he turns around to look back, the shore is away and down, the tiled roof of the surf shop building stark against the bleached walls, the door to his room too blurry to make out.
A tiny flicker of tenderness stirs, and Taehyung turns back and steps on another piece of the uneven stone step with determination.
A gentle breeze blows, bringing in distant chirping of crickets. Taehyung wipes his hand against parched lips, and keeps striding forward, not wanting to stop. The fragrant white petals of wild plumeria keep him company along the path.
Soon, he can almost see the top of the hill. But the dizziness is getting worse, making him a little delirious. The bright afternoon sun glares and heats up his torso, and Taehyung hopes that what he can see is really the end of the trail.
Taehyung stumbles on the last few steps, but pushes himself back up hastily, not caring for the dirt on his jeans. He finally stands atop of the hill, and pauses to scan around, gasping for air.
The clearing is bigger than he expected, as the hill extends beyond, into taller mountain ranges in the distance. A flash of vibrancy on the left draws his attention - a scatter of tall trees with bare barks of kaleidoscopic colors, between brown shreds of outer skin. Bright green, orange, maroon, hues of muted purple and blue, like long acrylic color strips splattered by nature. He steps closer and marvels at it. It takes him quite a few minutes to look away and notice the open field to his right, covered in overgrown weed and large slabs of weathered rocks. There, by the very edge of the clearing, to Taehyung's shock, a familiar figure is seated on the ground languidly, gazing straight back at him.
No, it can't be-
Taehyung has the sudden urge to turn away and scramble back down the hill.
He forces himself to stay, and squeezes his eyes hard to focus: fuck, Kim Taehyung, grow a pair. If you can coordinate a global DDoS attack on the Pentagon mainframe, then you should be able to small talk with a one-night-stand for two minutes.
Taehyung drags on his suddenly led filled legs and makes his way to face Jungkook.
Ripped white tee, grey patterned boardshorts, same worn out black fabric cap as usual. Taehyung waits for him to speak first, but Jungkook just looks at him with intrigue.
Oh for fuck's sake.
Taehyung clears his throat and pushes out a polite smile, "I'm not stalking you." His high pitched voice grates his own ears.
"I sure hope not." A lazy chuckle.
Silence. Taehyung gulps, cheeks flushed.
"Did you walk all the way up without water?"
Taehyung responds with a shake of the head, meant to look nonchalant but probably more like a sudden spasm of the neck.
Jungkook points at the spot next to him on the giant slab of stone on the ground. When Taehyung freezes, he points at it again, "Have a seat, I don't bite."
Taehyung complies stiffly. Jungkook opens the water bottle next to him, and hands it over, "Can't say the same about you though."
Taehyung pauses at the odd comment, but suddenly remembers - wanton moans in the dark, and the way Jungkook's tanned skin tasted between his teeth, of salt and alcohol fueled desire. His hand almost slips and drops the water bottle.
Now would be a perfect time to crawl into a proverbial hole and extinguish.
A hand reaches over to steady the bottle for him, "Just drink, you look terrible."
What. At the sound of the comment, Taehyung forgets to be ashamed, "Hey, anyone would look terrible after an hour and a half of hiking in this heat."
"That took you an hour and a half?"
Taehyung furrows his brows, but the hand nudges at the bottle, and he takes a reluctant sip.
"Finish the bottle. What I meant was that you look severely dehydrated. Pale, dried sweat, flushed cheeks..." Jungkook glances at him thoughtfully, hand reaching towards his face.
Taehyung draws back hastily, and averts his gaze.
Jungkook hums, "You're shaking too, were you on something?"
"No." Taehyung snaps back, a little too loud. He adjusts his volume and continues, "You're right, I'll be better when I finish this bottle."
Jungkook lets it slide, to his relief. They sit wordlessly for a beat, Taehyung sipping on the water and finally getting a good look back down the hill.
The coastline stretches out infinitely like a jagged ribbon, with the azure ocean shrouded in a thin mist beyond it. Sandy beaches, volcanic boulders, tropical forests and black asphalt roadways puncturing through, each component coexisting harmoniously with the other, creating a picture perfect landscape that stuns him into silence.
"Do you come here a lot?" Taehyung asks without turning towards him.
"Yeah."
A long exhaling, releasing all the tension within, "I can see why. I envy you."
"Strangely, not many people use this trail. The hill's not impressive enough for tourists I guess." A gentle breeze rustles Jungkook's hair. It's longer than Taehyung remembers, wavy and sweat soaked at the ends, drooping over resolved brows.
"Perfect."
"Didn't think you enjoyed uphill hiking."
"Oh I enjoy many things. As the saying goes," Taehyung waves his hand dramatically, "ogres are like onions, they have layers."
"I don't think that's how the 'saying' goes, I think it's more along the line of 'ogres stink and make people cry-'"
Taehyung shoves Jungkook hard on the arm to cut him off, "Stop making me sound so gross and stinky and terrible looking, oh my god. Why did you sleep with me then if I'm so hideous? You're so mean..."
Jungkook blinks at him twice, hard, then erupts into a loud laughter, "There. Finally, you're not pretending it didn't happen."
Taehyung stares at him, hand still half way towards his arm, ready to turn into a punching fist. His lips quiver but eventually settle on a small grin, finally dissipating the gloom lodged in his chest, "I pretend? It's not like you've been dying to talk to me for the past few days either."
Jungkook says nothing, just looks at him unabashedly with a knowing grin. Taehyung's cheeks flush again - ok so maybe this cheeky bastard is right, he's the one that's been trying very hard to avoid Jungkook, not the other way around.
Taehyung licks his lips, "Anyhow."
"Anyhow." Jungkook pauses and grabs the water bottle back, fingers tracing on the cap before continuing, "You're leaving anyway, right? Namjoon said tomorrow?"
"Yeah." Taehyung's eyes slide back towards the distant ocean and the endless white caps, "Already extended for two more days, I think it's time."
"I guess. Do you know where you're heading?"
Taehyung slacks his torso, and pushes his palm into the ground for support, feeling the rough surface of the stone slab underneath, "I heard Molokai is quieter, less touristy. There's a ferry tomorrow morning."
"Is that what you're looking for - quieter, less touristy?"
Taehyung shrugs, "I feel better when I'm away from the crowds. It's - it's simpler, safer."
Safer for them.
"And what about after Molokai?"
Taehyung wants to smile politely and change the subject, but Jungkook's voice is gentle, reminding him of the warmth of his touch, and how cared for it made him feel. Taehyung bites his lower lip, and responds slowly, "It doesn't matter. This is what people dream of anyway, isn't it? To travel and see the world, a different scenery every day. Isn't it nice, a perpetual vacation?"
Jungkook sighs. Taehyung's afraid to meet his gaze, afraid of what he may find hidden clumsily behind the casual words. They stay in silence for a while, and just when Taehyung is about to make an excuse to head back down the hill, Jungkook pipes up again, "You were looking at the rainbow eucalyptus over there."
"Hmm?"
"The trees with the colorful barks, they're unique to this region."
"Oh, yes." Taehyung turns his head to look at them, "I honestly thought someone painted them with a brush. They're amazing."
"I agree. You know, Jin told me a story about them."
"Really?"
"Do you want to hear it? It's an old Hawaiian fable."
Taehyung sits up, "Sure."
Jungkook cards through his hair, and begins, "A long time ago, there was a village near here with a man named Kamalo. One day, Kamalo's two sons snuck into the high chief's house to play with the sacred drums there. The high chief was very angry with the boys, so angry that he ordered them executed. Now Jin had to clarify at this point that most Hawaiian high chiefs are fair and just leaders of their villages, that this evil man was an exception. I told him there has to be an evil person in every fable, so it makes sense here."
Taehyung grins, "You're absolutely right. Please go on."
"Kamalo was heartbroken, he went to all the temples on the island, seeking divine intervention, but received nothing in return. His last option was the temple of the shark god. Jin said if you followed the ridge over there," Jungkook points behind them as the path disappears into mountain ranges, "there's a cliff about 50 miles further south, the shark god temple used to be there a hundred years ago. He has a habit of putting imaginative details to the stories he tells."
"You don't say, that's really detailed, like he's-actually-seen-it kind of detailed." They both chuckle at the thought.
Jungkook continues, "So Kamalo descends into the temple, and the shark god appears in front of him, baring his fearsome and shining teeth. He is angered by the high chief's ruthlessness, and agrees to be Kamalo's Kahu, or Guardian. He instructs Kamalo to add white tapa kapu sticks to his and the other villagers' fences, all except the high chief's fence. Kamalo goes home and waits. For months, nothing happens."
"Oh no."
There's a spark of mirth in Jungkook's eyes, "Hawaiians are a patient bunch. Kamalo waits until one day, dark clouds blow in from the coast, across the cliffs and hills, gathering in the valley where they live. Then came the torrential rainstorm, the most devastating the area had ever seen, flooding the entire village. But every other house was safe and spared from the flood, except that of the high chief's."
"The one with the damn drums."
Jungkook nods solemnly, "Yes, those terrible drums. They were swept down the cliffs and into the ocean, along with the high chief. And there, the shark god waited with fearsome and shining teeth, and tugged the high chief under the waves until the water turned red. The sky cleared, and a great rainbow spanned across the valley, painting all the trees in kaleidoscopic hues. People say it's the god's way of making us remember, that there is justice, karma, and-" he suddenly leans in, spooking Taehyung, "- a really terrifying shark god that'll keep you in check."
Taehyung's smiling ear to ear, "Wow, that's quite the story for a colorful tree."
"Well, Jin is nothing if not dramatic. But it is a beautiful tale, and I can see why - Maui is drenched in history and mythology. Every plant, every rock on this island has a story to tell. Look-" he taps on the stone slab they're sitting on, "-Jin told me this was the vestige of an ancient ceremonial site. Mana, he called it, earth's energy. Certain locations supposedly have it, and the high priests used them for magic."
Taehyung runs his fingers along the surface of the slab, tracing the dips and bumps.
"And that's the thing, you won't get to know a place and the people there, all the stories of who they really are, if you don't spend some time to pause and explore, soak it all in." Jungkook's gaze turns soft, "Can I be honest with you, Taehyung?"
A noncommittal hum in response.
Jungkook leans in a little, carefully, "You feel different from the rest of them. I don't know what you're looking for, but I can tell you're tired. So tired. Like the weight of it all would just come crashing down at any moment."
The words cut Taehyung right open, despite his best effort to ignore them, to put his usual guard up.
"Free free to tell me to shut up, if I'm overstepping. But I, um, I have an idea." Jungkook speaks slowly, "If you're willing to give Halaina a few more weeks, we can show you what the island is truly about? There are many small hikes nearby, and Jin can come with us next time, he'd be thrilled that someone's finally interested in his stories. And I can - I can teach you how to surf, if you want to learn?"
Something stirs deep in the recess of Taehyung's heart, but he bites his lips and responds, "It sounds lovely, it really does, but I'm not sure..."
A sigh. Jungkook continues, voice a little quieter, "I shouldn't impose, I'm sorry."
The word stings him, and Taehyung finally turns to face him, "Don't say that. You've been nothing but kind to me, I've never met - I - I'm just -" he stammers and wrings his hands, "I have a lot on my mind."
"And that's ok. You can rest and think. It's not forever, you know you're always free to leave when you want to. But do let the outside world go for a bit, enjoy Halaina for what it truly is, what do you think?" Jungkook gives his arm a tiny nudge, "And honestly, I haven't told anyone this, but I'm not sure how Namjoon is doing with balancing the finances of the surf shop. Every time I ask him, he just points at the huge stack of paper on his desk and shrugs. Maybe if you ever have time to help him out a bit, make sure we don't get evicted out of our own house..."
"I'm not sure why you think I suddenly have magical accounting power-" Taehyung retorts but spots the tenderness in Jungkook's gaze, as if his opinions matter, he matters. His throat runs dry, and he's suddenly too weary to say no, "-but, I guess, I can try?"
Jungkook pauses, and slowly, a smile blooms on his face. Taehyung glances at him, and commits the moment to memory - rainbow barks, shark teeth, magical mana slab, and distant ocean mist. His shoulders loosen, and he takes a long inhale, finally allowing himself to settle into the serenity.
Taehyung has always felt torn about the idea of a vacation: no matter how perfect the experience is, it's fleeting like soap bubbles that glisten alluringly before the inevitable pop. Here, in the sticky tropical breeze scented with wild plumeria, he hopes absently that this time, things will be different.