Fated Foes

18

After hours of chaos, glue disasters, and arguments that could rival a political debate, the group stepped back to admire—or rather, face—their work.

The sundial stood... kind of. Its base was slightly crooked, and the top wobbled like it was auditioning for a circus act.

“It’s... lopsided,” Hoseok said, tilting his head like a confused puppy.

“Artistic,” Seojin chimed in, sipping on yet another bubble tea. “It’s like abstract architecture.”

Jungkook, on the verge of a mental breakdown, pointed at the monstrosity. “This is a sundial, not a sculpture for a modern art museum!”

“Look on the bright side,” Taehyung said, leaning against the shaky structure. “It’s technically standing.”

The sundial groaned ominously under his weight.

“Don’t lean on it!” Jungkook snapped, pulling Taehyung away. “Do you want it to collapse?!”

Taehyung grinned. “Relax, Kook. It’s solid.”

As if on cue, one of the glue joints gave a loud pop, and a small piece clattered to the ground.

Hoseok took a cautious step back. “Uh... does anyone else hear a death knell?”

Seojin smirked. “It’s like it’s begging to be put out of its misery.”

Jungkook was practically hyperventilating. “If the dean sees this, we’re all dead! I told you to follow the blueprint! But no, you just had to play Sundial Knight!”

Taehyung, completely unfazed, patted Jungkook’s shoulder. “Hey, hey, don’t stress. Worst case, we call it an ‘interpretive timepiece.’”

“Worst case?” Jungkook repeated, his voice dangerously high. “We get expelled!”

Taehyung shrugged. “Yeah, but we’ll get expelled together. Isn’t that nice?”

Jungkook stared at him, mouth agape. “What is wrong with you?”

Before Taehyung could answer, the sundial emitted another alarming creak. Everyone froze.

“Okay,” Hoseok whispered. “If it falls, we run. Agreed?”

“Agreed,” Seojin said, already edging toward the door.

Taehyung crossed his arms. “You’re all so dramatic. It’s not gonna—”

The sundial collapsed with a loud CRASH, sending shards and glue-covered debris flying.

The group stared at the rubble in stunned silence.

“Well,” Taehyung finally said, dusting off his hands. “At least now it’s modern art.”

Jungkook sank to the floor, clutching his head. “I’m going to pretend this is a nightmare. Wake me when it’s over.”

Hoseok sighed, stepping over a piece of the shattered sundial. “Who’s gonna tell the dean?”

Everyone turned to look at Taehyung.

“Why me?” he protested.

Seojin grinned. “Because you’re the one who said, ‘Hey, let’s use extra glue! It’ll make it stronger.’”

Taehyung huffed. “Fine. But I’m calling it ‘The Sundial That Couldn’t.’”

“More like ‘The Idiots Who Shouldn’t,’” Jungkook muttered, glaring at him.

And thus, the group braced themselves for round two of sundial construction—this time, with a little less glue and a lot more desperation.

~

The next day, Jungkook sat at the workbench, his head in his hands as he stared at the broken pieces of the sundial. He had meticulously listed out the damaged parts, some of which were so mangled that he would have to order replacements from the clockmaker.

His frustration was mounting when he suddenly heard the door creak open. Jungkook didn’t have to look up to know who it was. The sound of chips being crunched, followed by a faint smack of someone lazily sitting on the chair, was enough to confirm it.

Taehyung.

Jungkook sighed, his temper already flaring. He stood up abruptly, slamming his hands on the table. "What are you doing here, Taehyung?! Don’t you get satisfied now?" he snapped, pointing an accusing finger. “This is my dream! You know how much I want to pursue medical! What if I get expelled because of this mess?! What will I do, huh? You think I can just go back to the engineering department and—"

Taehyung didn’t flinch. Instead, he took another casual bite of his chips, looking almost annoyingly relaxed. "I know you're stressed, Kook," he said, his voice unusually calm. "But don’t go blaming me for your dramatic outbursts."

Jungkook stared at him in disbelief. “You don’t get it!” His hands were shaking as he waved the list of broken sundial parts in the air. “This project was my chance to show I can handle both sides, medical and engineering, without losing myself! But now look at it—look at this disaster! We’re screwed! You know how much this could ruin everything?”

Taehyung raised an eyebrow, casually tossing his empty chip bag aside. “You’re way too dramatic about this, Kook. Relax.” He leaned back in his chair and stretched out his arms like he had just finished a long day at the beach. “We’ll fix it. But if you keep acting like this, I’m going to start thinking you're allergic to success.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened. "Do you have any idea what you just said?"

“I said,” Taehyung paused, “If you keep stressing out, you're going to miss all the fun we could be having fixing this mess. It’s not the end of the world.”

Jungkook took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down, but his frustration still bubbled under the surface. "You just don’t get it. This is my world. If I screw this up, I’m not just losing this stupid sundial. I’m losing my future."

For the first time since entering the room, Taehyung’s expression softened, just a little. He leaned forward and placed his hand on Jungkook's shoulder. "Hey," he said, his voice quieter now, "I didn’t come here to make it worse. I came because... well, we're in this together now. We might not be friends, but we’re stuck with each other."

Jungkook looked up, his chest tight. "I still don’t know why you even care, Taehyung."

Taehyung flashed his usual smirk, though it was laced with something a little more serious. “Because,” he said, “you’re the one person who can keep up with my nonsense.” He paused. “And because it’s about time we put this mess behind us, don’t you think?”

Jungkook didn’t reply immediately, but his anger started to ebb, replaced by a feeling he hadn’t expected: relief.

"Alright, fine," Jungkook said after a long silence. "But we’re fixing this, together. No more breaking things, got it?"

Taehyung leaned back in his chair and grinned. "Got it, partner."