Moonlight Heirs 🌗🐺 | TAEKOOK |

1.)The return.

The sky was a dull gray, heavy with the weight of unshed rain, as Jungkook watched the last handful of mourners leave his parents' funeral. He stood there, frozen in place, surrounded by the distant sounds of the village. It was quieter here than in the bustling town where he'd grown up with his uncle Seojun, but it felt oddly fitting. His parents had always been more like shadows in his life, their presence distant, their words few. Now, standing over their graves, he realized how little he truly knew about them.

Seojun, his uncle, stood beside him, silently watching as well. The older man's face was lined with exhaustion, though he had done his best to stay strong for Jungkook since the tragic news arrived. The weight of responsibility now rested entirely on him. He glanced at Jungkook, his hand hovering near the boy's shoulder as if unsure whether to offer comfort.

"This village," Seojun began, his voice rough, "it's where your parents always intended for you to return. They wanted you to be here, though they never explained why."

Jungkook's fingers absentmindedly traced the mark on his wrist—the strange symbol that had appeared the night he turned seventeen. He hadn't told anyone about it, not even Seojun. Somehow, he knew it was important, but the meaning remained hidden. Every now and then, it pulsed faintly, a soft throb under his skin, as if trying to communicate something beyond his understanding.

"I don't understand," Jungkook murmured. "Why send me away if they wanted me back here?"

Seojun sighed, his gaze distant. "They had their reasons... reasons they kept even from me."

As they spoke, Jungkook noticed a small group approaching from the village's outskirts. Three figures, draped in traditional robes, moved gracefully toward them. Even from a distance, Jungkook could feel an unusual air about them—like they are from a world he couldn't quite touch.

The man leading them had a sharp, regal presence, yet handsome, his dark eyes calculating. Behind him walked a woman, her expression composed but intense, as if she were studying everything around her with quiet precision. And trailing behind them, almost like a shadow, was a younger man—his features soft but his gaze penetrating, as if he could see straight through Jungkook.

Seojun stiffened beside him, straightening up as the group arrived.

"Kim Seokjin," Seojun greeted the man with a formal bow, acknowledging the leader of the group. "Lady Jisoo," he added, bowing slightly to the woman. "It's been many years."

Seokjin's reddish orbs flickered toward Jungkook, though he said nothing at first. Instead, it was Jisoo who spoke, her voice calm. "We came to pay our respects," she said softly. "Jeons were... important to us."

Jungkook looked between them, with a confusion. These people, so poised, so controlled, so calm and so beautiful felt like they belonged to a different world than his. Why had they come to his parents' funeral? He had never seen them before. Well he had never been this village after his parents sent him away.

Seokjin finally spoke, his voice low and measured. "It's unfortunate, their passing. There are matters that need discussing, but now isn't the time. We'll visit you at another time, Seojun."

Seojun nodded stiffly. "I understand."

As Seokjin and Jisoo turned to leave, Jungkook's eyes were drawn to the third figure—the one who hadn't spoken a word. The young man's gaze was fixed on him, unblinking, almost unreadable. There was something about him that made Jungkook's heart race—a strange tension, like the pull of a tide he couldn't resist. For a moment, their eyes locked, and in that brief exchange, Jungkook felt something stir deep within him, a flicker of something unknown. And his eyes slowly investigate the figure, head to heel.