[ complete ] 𝐌𝐀𝐅𝐈𝐀'𝐒 𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐍 𝐖𝐈𝐅𝐄 || 𝐉.𝐉𝐊 𝐅𝐅

69. Gates and Gift.

Jungkook's POV -

The sun was burning low in the sky as I stepped out of the black SUV, my boots crunching softly against the gravel road. The village was quiet-deceptively so. But my mind was a war drum. Every rustle in the trees, every shadow, I scanned like a man who'd already lost too much in another life.

I walked forward, toward the gate. That old iron one with the faded paint and little squeak when it moved-Y/n always said it made her feel like a kid again. To me now, it just marked the boundary between danger and my reason to breathe.

My hand curled into a fist, and I knocked. Once. Twice.

A moment later, it creaked open.

Her father.
Grey-haired, sharp eyes, calm expression. The man who had once looked at me like I wasn't good enough to breathe the same air as his daughter now opened the gate with something softer in his gaze.

"Jungkook," he said, nodding slowly.

I gave him a small, respectful bow. "Appa."

"You came fast," he said, stepping aside.

"I had a jet and a reason," I replied with a faint smirk, walking in.

"She's inside. With your Amma. Kids are bouncing off the walls," he added with a chuckle.

I glanced around quickly-security stationed at discreet corners, my men blended in with the local clothes, eyes sharp and weapons hidden. Good.

Before I could get another step in, he placed a hand on my shoulder. "They're safe. You kept your word."

I met his eyes. "That's all I've ever tried to do."

He gave me a rare, approving nod. "Come in, son."

Son.

It took everything in me not to let my throat tighten at that word.

As we stepped into the courtyard, the scent of turmeric, old rose plants, and frying papad hit me. Memories and tension tangled together in the air.

Y/n's mother was sitting in a chair, stringing jasmine flowers, her fingers still deft and gentle as ever. She looked up and smiled when she saw me.

"Ah, Jeon Jungkook! You finally brought your face here!"

"Amma!" I grinned and walked over, immediately touching her feet.

"God bless you, son. Are you feeding yourself or just posing shirtless for magazines again?" she teased, patting my cheek.

"You're the only person allowed to scold me like that," I said, pulling out the bags from behind me. "I brought some things."

I passed the gifts to her and Appa-fabrics, spices, imported sweets, some silk scarves from Seoul, and books I knew Y/n's father loved. I didn't miss the way he touched the edges of one like it was gold.

"For all of you," I said genuinely. "And something extra for Amma's tea collection."

She beamed. "Now you've really won me over."

"I thought I already had."

"You did," Appa muttered, pretending to be gruff but clearly amused.

I was just about to ask where Y/n was when I heard tiny footsteps thudding rapidly across the corridor.

And then-

"Appaaaaaaaaaaa!!"

Aarohi flew toward me like a meteor, bunny toy clutched in one hand, hair bouncing in loose braids.