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

Big Occasion? |5|

Songs of the chapter - I Miss You, I'm Sorry (Gracie Abrams) & Art Deco (Lana Del Rey)

The rain hit the windshield in steady sheets, thick and relentless, blurring the world outside as Kyomi gripped the steering wheel with white-knuckled hands. Each swipe of the wipers only cleared a momentary view before the downpour swallowed it again. In the back seat, her baby girl stirred quietly in her car seat, soft hiccups of breath the only sound besides the rhythm of the storm. Kyomi glanced at her through the rearview mirror, heart aching with the familiar pang of uncertainty. She was beautiful, even in sleep — tiny fingers curled into little fists, her pacifier rising and falling with each breath.

The road to her mother's house felt longer than usual. The storm had turned everything a dull, grey blur, and the tires hissed through the puddles like they were cutting through silence. Kyomi kept replaying Mineso's voice in her head: "Just one night, Kyo. One night to be free again." And maybe Mineso was right. Maybe she did need this. But every mile that took her closer to the hand-off, to stepping away from her daughter even for a few hours, felt like something sacred was being tested. Guilt and anxiety clung to her like the damp air inside the car.

When she pulled into her mother's driveway, the porch light was on, casting a dim, golden halo against the storm. Her mother opened the door before Kyomi even knocked, dressed in slippers and a thick cardigan, her arms ready. Kyomi hesitated before unbuckling her daughter, pressing a kiss to the baby's forehead and breathing her in like she might not get to again for a long while. "She's been fed, changed. There's formula packed, and her bear is in the bag," she murmured, handing her off slowly. Her mother gave her a soft look, familiar but unreadable. "She'll be fine, Kyomi. Go have a good time." But even then, Kyomi lingered, her hand resting on the baby's foot like it was the last tether to herself.

Back in the car, alone now, the silence roared. The rain had only worsened, slamming against the roof like it had something to say. As she drove toward the city where Mineso waited — makeup laid out, dress options hung on chairs, music probably playing already — something in Kyomi's chest tightened. This night had been promised as escape, as lightness. But the road ahead looked slick and dark, headlights smeared across wet glass like ghosts. She didn't know yet what the night held, but the weight of leaving her child behind, the storm clawing at her windows, and the sharp twist in her gut all whispered the same quiet thing: Something's coming.

The tires hummed steadily against the damp road as Kyomi gripped the steering wheel, her eyes flicking between the windshield and the clock on the dashboard. 1:55 PM. Her heart beat in time with the swish of the windshield wipers, clearing away the drizzle that clung to the glass like a film of hesitation. The clouds above were thick and low, their weight pressing down on the city, turning everything gray. The silence in the car was unfamiliar — no babbling, no lullabies playing through the speakers — just her thoughts, louder than ever in the empty cabin.

She had dropped Min-ches off at her mother's place not even ten minutes ago. The goodbye had been hard, even if her mother had welcomed them warmly and gently peeled the sleeping baby from her arms. Kyomi had lingered longer than she meant to, her fingers brushing over the soft fabric of her daughter's blanket one last time before stepping away. The silence since then had felt almost eerie, as though a part of her had been left behind in that cozy little house with the crackling fire and the scent of baby lotion still lingering in the air.

Now, as she made her way through slick streets and rain-streaked traffic lights, her nerves twisted inside her. Fifty minutes to go, and the questions she'd buried earlier began to surface again. What kind of surprise? Where are we going? Her fingers tightened slightly around the steering wheel. It wasn't just the unknown that unnerved her — it was how fragile she still felt, how raw her emotions had been lately. Still, the idea of seeing Mineso, of being reminded that she wasn't completely alone in the world, offered the smallest flicker of comfort. So she kept driving, the tires slicing quietly through the puddled roads, toward whatever this day had waiting for her.