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

Walk out |8|

Songs of the chapter - Paris, Texas (Lana Del Rey) and Don't Leave Me (BTS

The rain had softened by the time night folded over the quiet hills beyond the small, countryside home. Inside, the storm's memory was barely a whisper—just the occasional tick of droplets against the windows. The soft pop and hiss of the fireplace filled the living room, casting a golden glow that shimmered gently across the wooden floors and quilted furniture. The room smelled faintly of lavender and chamomile tea, of safety and worn comfort. 

It was a home steeped in kindness and steadiness — a quiet contrast to the world Kyomi had driven away into only hours earlier.

Kyomi's mother sat curled on the edge of the couch, her reading glasses low on her nose, a storybook in hand. The cat — a lazy, spoiled tabby named Mochi — purred from his perch at the corner of the couch, blinking slowly with the deep contentment of routine. 

Across from them, nestled inside a soft, bassinet-style cot near the fire, was Min-ches, sleeping with the fragile peace only babies knew. Her cheeks were round and rosy from warmth, one little hand curled beside her face, rising and falling with the even rhythm of her dreams.

Every so often, the older woman glanced over from her book, just to watch her granddaughter breathe. It was a quiet reassurance — one she never tired of. She'd been worried when Kyomi called earlier, sounding hesitant, a little off. 

She hadn't pried. Just told her to come, no questions asked. Now, watching Min-ches safe and warm, she felt the familiar pull of a mother's worry — not for the baby, but for her own child. Something had shifted in Kyomi's voice. A pressure. A sadness.

She reached over quietly, adjusted the edge of the soft knitted blanket around Min-ches's tiny feet, and smiled. "Your mama's stronger than she thinks," she whispered. "And whatever's out there tonight... she'll make it through. For you."

Mochi blinked slowly, his tail flicking in the firelight, and the baby sighed in her sleep — as if agreeing with the sentiment. Outside, the rain tapped faintly, steady and rhythmic, but inside the home, all was still. Wrapped in warmth. Waiting.

-Back to the concert-

Mineso sat frozen in her seat, hands tightly wrapped around the now-warm bottle of water a staff member had handed her earlier. The concert lights still pulsed overhead, casting bursts of blue and white across her anxious face, but she barely noticed them now. 

Her mind was trapped behind the moments just before it all fell apart — Kyomi's whispered excuse to go to the bathroom, the way she had stood up so suddenly, the color draining from her face like a ghost had passed through her. Then, the way her body had crumpled without a sound.

The memory of Kyomi collapsing played over and over behind Mineso's eyes, like a silent film looping on repeat. She'd wanted to leap from her seat, but the staff were there in seconds — firm, trained, polite. They told her Kyomi would be okay, that she needed air, evaluation, rest. They told Mineso to stay put, that crowd movement during delays could make things worse. She had agreed, reluctantly, trusting that they knew what they were doing. But it didn't stop her heart from racing. Or her mind from reeling.

She stared blankly toward the stage, trying to distract herself, but her thoughts kept circling back to one thing — why had Kyomi reacted that way? 

She'd never had anxiety around crowds. Loud noises never fazed her; they used to go to underground raves and fireworks shows in high school. She'd never even mentioned being overwhelmed in public. In fact, Kyomi was usually the one grounding her when things got too chaotic. So what had triggered her so completely tonight?