Everyone belongs with their own. | Min Yoongi FF (Being updated)

27

Song of the chapter - 

The piece of wood sat like a curse on her countertop.
Stained. Soaked. Wrong.

Kyomi's fingers trembled as she rolled the note back into its folded curl, her breaths shallow and tight in her chest. The handwriting etched itself into her mind, each curved letter like a nail hammered into her spine.

But why now?

Why like this?

Why that piece of wood?

Her mind flashed back—too vividly—to the smell of burning insulation, the ceiling caving in, the splitting pain in her leg. Her own scream. Yoongi's voice shouting through the storm. Her daughter's future balanced on seconds.

Now here it was. Gift-wrapped in silence. She turned, glancing toward the bassinet. Min-ches stirred softly, her tiny body rolling to one side. Her lips puckered and released. Completely innocent. Completely unaware.

Kyomi let out a slow exhale and felt her spine start to stiffen. She couldn't let this leak into her world — not again. Not into Min-ches's world. With steady, deliberate movements, Kyomi rewrapped the wooden beam in the stained cloth and slid it back into the box. She went to her bedroom closet, opened the bottom drawer — the one behind the rarely-worn heels and unused bags — and tucked the parcel deep into the corner. She covered it with a shoebox. Then another. Closed the drawer with a gentle click.

Out of sight.
But not out of mind.

-Later that evening-

The apartment was clean again. Candles lit. Soft lullaby music playing in the background. Kyomi sat on the couch, Min-ches asleep on her chest. She stared at the TV but wasn't watching. Her phone lit up twice — once with a message from Mineso:

"I miss our 3am snacks. Call me tonight?"

And then one from Yoongi:

"Can I stop by tomorrow? Just for a bit?"

Her fingers hovered over the reply. She typed:

"Yes. Please."

But didn't hit send right away. Instead, she looked down at her daughter — the tiny weight of her, the soft breath against her collarbone. Kyomi brushed a hand over Min-ches's silken hair and closed her eyes.

She wouldn't say a word.
Not yet.

She had to figure out what this person wanted... and why they had chosen to remind her that they both still had pieces of the past.

Pieces she thought had burned away in the storm.

The apartment was quiet. Min-Ches had finally settled into sleep after a fussy evening, her breath soft and rhythmic in the nursery. Kyomi sat cross-legged at the end of her bed, the phone in her hand like it weighed more than it should. The screen glowed softly with Yoongi's name.

Incoming Call: Min Yoongi
It rang once.
Twice.
Three times.

She hovered, debating. Then finally — a swipe.

She brought it to her ear, and for a second, just listened to the faint rustle of his breath on the other end.

"...You answered."

Yoongi's voice was quiet. Relief cut through every syllable, warm and raw with exhaustion. A pause. The kind that comes with months of unspoken things.

"You okay?"

"Yeah."

"You don't sound okay."

"I'm tired," she admitted.