Collision

Chapter 70

Soaking in the sudden quiet, Yoongi closed his eyes and resisted the urge to go play the piano, a habit that had become an itch, and pushed himself up to finally start making breakfast.

He decides on something simple, since he had more mouths to feed than usual, though he found himself really not minding. For so long, he had been alone. Solitude had been his companion, something he had subjected his own mind too, and for a while that was more than okay.

Being alone was easier. He had no one to please. He had no one to tell him to stop hurting, to get over what had happened, and move on. He had the right to cry at night, or in the shower.

Or even in the fucking kitchen where only the birds could witness it.

He had the right to be enraged, wanting to scream at the top of his lungs that life could go fuck itself because why, out of everyone, did it have to be him? What had he done to deserve this?

His entire future had crumbled in a single night. Everything that Yoongi was had been destroyed that night, ripped out from under him. He didn't know how to rebuild himself, or where to even start, and he wasn't ready to even try.

Everything was hurting.

The silence comforted him, but merely existing. There was no rush on this mountain. There was no ticking clock that felt like a bomb.

"What about your job?"

"What are you going to do now?"

"You should go back to college. Get an actual degree."

"You can't just mope around. You lost your vision, not your life."

The silence couldn't belittle him. The silence couldn't tell him to stop grieving, or stop being angry at the world.

Yoongi never wanted to hear of healing, when he was too busy trying to the pull knife from his heart, to attempt to staunch the blood flow that poured from his aching soul. He wanted to cry. To grieve. He needed to weep with this rain, this downpour.

But now, he was finally ready to step into the sun. Let it caress his cold skin, warming him from the inside out. He was ready to dry the raindrops along his flesh, and for his wound to finish scarring over.

Yoongi had given up a long time ago on ever being fully healed. There will always be this hole, this longing that could never be filled, and for once, that is okay. He was okay that maybe he won't be completed.

Agust D may never return, and Min Yoongi may have died, but that's the thing about reincarnation, right? He can bloom again. Winter can finally be over, and spring can bloom, and like the flowers, Min Yoongi can be reborn.

The silence, whom Yoongi once treasured, is no longer needed. What is needed now is the blissful sound of boisterous laughter, and maybe banter that is never suited for a dinner table. His cabin to be filled with not just warmth of a fire, but warmth of something he had lost, and refound.

Warmth of family. Maybe not by blood, because family doesn't always mean blood. Family can mean the people who are there for you, even when you lose yourself.

And yeah, Yoongi still hated the world. He hated the word Fate, and Destiny made his stomach wither. He still grieved his brother, and maybe the loss of himself, but at the same time, he had a chance to refind himself.

So, maybe he hated the world a little less. Jeongguk couldn't heal everything. That wasn't practical, and he knew that. But Jeongguk helped. In the most stupidest ways, the little wolf eased the ache by wordless actions that Yoongi isn't useless.