Smoke Song

Return

He reached the train station as the sun was rising, a few crumpled bills in his pocket. A long time ago, Jin had given them to him, saying it was for a treat. Now, he was glad he hadn't been hungry.

I can't believe I didn't do this sooner, he thought angrily, I can't believe I ever thought I could fix this. I'm such an idiot.

He paid for a ticket as far out as he could go and dashed onto the platform just as the train arrived, hiding himself in the crowd and tucking his hands in.

Taehyung.

He felt a stab of guilt at leaving his friend, but it was for the best. Taehyung liked it there. Taehyung wanted to sing and fight and get revenge, or whatever they called it nowadays. Taehyung had friends, and Jin, and Jimin, and even Yoongi. He would get over Jungkook, and Jungkook would get over him. He could hope for that, at least.

It was coming anyways, Jungkook told himself, you saw it. Stop worrying. It's not like he'll worry about you for very long. It must have been some bid for attention.

It's not like he'd actually love you.

He leaned against the side of the train, watching the station fall away, and closed his eyes.

I'm sorry, he thought, wishing Taehyung could hear him, I can't do this. I can't fight anymore.

Leaving the station four hours later, he looked around at the place that had once been his home, at the silent streets. Dark grey buildings rose up off the pavement, like clusters of children's building blocks. A few pieces of trash blew across the empty road. Around him, a few fellow passengers dashed away, eager to be home. Jungkook wandered along the street, pausing in front of the building and staring up at it.

It was marked as a former music studio, which explained why it looked so dilapidated. The gate leading into the tiny front garden hung off its hinges, and so did the door. The garden was a mess of tangled vines and spiky weeds. Jungkook walked across the street, stepping through the gap in the fence, and wandered over the grassy pavement, pushing open the ruined door and stepping into his studio.

The entryway was mostly empty, minus a few pairs of shoes that had been trampled over long ago. Lying in the next room over was the ratty sleeping bag he'd used for overnight projects, then for when he felt homesick, complete with its flattened pillow. The cupboards were still full of junk food and instant meals-- bottled water was stacked in jugs along the walls. Everything was covered in a thin layer of dust.

Jungkook laughed silently. When he sat down on the floor, hands shaking, dust rose around him. He couldn't believe it. Had they really left everything else untouched? How could people be so cruel?

"Jungkook?"

Jungkook flinched, turning, and looked up. Hoseok stood in the doorway, one hand on the frame, eyes wide.

"What are you doing here?"

Jungkook pressed his lips together, shaking his head.

"You're supposed to be healing at Headquarters. Why aren't you--?"

Jungkook hunched his shoulders and turned away. Hoseok sighed, then came to sit beside him, running a hand through his hair.

"I haven't seen you in months. Now you turn up here? What's going on?"

Jungkook bit his lip.

"Did something happen to everyone?"

Jungkook shook his head.

"Then why are you here?"

"Hoseok? Everything okay?"

"Jungkook's in here," Hoseok called.

"Jungkook? The mute?"

Hoseok winced. "Get in here and see."

Another man arrived in the doorway, staring at Jungkook from underneath long black bangs. Jungkook recognized him--Namjoon, the rapper who'd insisted he was too dangerous to learn healing.

"Yoongi messaged me yesterday," he said, shrugging. "Said the kid ran off. You surprised he came here?"

Hoseok turned back to Jungkook, questions spinning in his eyes. "Why, Jungkook?" he asked softly, reaching out to touch Jungkook's face. "Why do you keep running away from us?"

Jungkook's mouth twisted, and he shook himself, standing and grabbing a pack of chips from the counter. As he ripped them open, tearing the bag with his teeth, Hoseok arrived at his side, pushing his hands down.

"Jungkook, please."

Jungkook threw the chips in his face.

The bag hit the ground, chips spraying everywhere, and Hoseok grabbed both of Jungkook's hands, squeezing them tightly.

"Why the hell--?!" he cried, breaking off as Namjoon pulled them apart.

"Can't you see?" the rapper said sharply, "Yoongi's been after him."

"But Yoongi's not--"

"Yoongi's impatient, that's what he is," Namjoon said, "He jumped the gun and wrecked everything."

Hoseok's brows furrowed. "What?"

Namjoon just shook his head, turning to Jungkook. "Does your throat still hurt?" he asked, his voice softening. Jungkook stiffened as he laid a hand against it, running his fingers along his windpipe. "What about your hands? Are they--"

Jungkook stepped back, bumping into the counter, and glared at Namjoon and Hoseok.

Namjoon seemed oblivious. "Why are you here?"

Startled into anger, Jungkook mouthed "I could ask you the same."

"That's new," Hoseok muttered.

Jungkook turned red at the ears, but Namjoon nodded thoughtfully, then stretched out an arm gesturing to the dusty items on the shelves. "We came to salvage your stuff," Namjoon said. "What? You don't want any of it?"

Caught off guard, Jungkook wavered, glancing between Namjoon and Hoseok.

"We've been planning it for ages," Hoseok said, kicking at the ground. "Jin didn't want to do it-- said it might trigger some bad memories-- but Namjoon won out in the end. We figured you'd like to have whatever wasn't ruined. But speaking of Jin--"

Jungkook leapt forward as he pulled out his phone, knocking his arm away.

"Why can't I call him?" Hoseok demanded. "He's probably out of his mind worrying about you."
He attempted to bring the phone to his ear, and Jungkook knocked his arm away again.

"Jungkook, calm down--"

Jungkook shook his head frantically, reaching for the phone, and gasped as Hoseok pulled his hand back, wrapping him in his arms.

"It's okay," Hoseok said. "We know. It's okay. It's okay."

Jungkook shuddered, shaking his head harder.

"Breathe, Jungkook."

Jungkook let out a painful gasp, trying to pull away.

"Jungkook, please," Namjoon said, "The very fact that you're here puts you in danger. Calm down."

Jungkook gritted his teeth, shaking his head one last time. He pushed Hoseok away, bending down for the bag of chips, and headed for the stairs, shaking Namjoon's hand off his shoulder.

"Jungkook, I don't think you should--"

The stairs creaked and groaned under Jungkook's feet as he picked up the pace, shoving the first door open. For a moment he reeled, and felt Hoseok arriving to steady him, then the room settled.

Black marks soared across the floor and up the walls, hiding the half-melted shapes of what had once been their musical equipment. Parts of it had fallen to the ground, scattered to pieces like sooty reminders of a bad dream.

Jungkook sighed, closing his eyes. Behind them, flames leapt to life.