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

Shakey and Sweaty |10|

Song of the chapter - If I Die Young (The Band Perry)

The hotel room was cloaked in the gentle quiet of early morning, the city outside hushed beneath the weight of rain and retreating night. Dim light bled through the edges of the heavy curtains, barely reaching the still forms lying on the bed. Kyomi and Mineso were fast asleep, their breathing deep and even, limbs tangled beneath the warmth of the thick duvet. The room smelled faintly of hairspray, perfume, and something soft and clean — maybe hope, maybe weariness, or both. Somewhere in the silence, the faint sound of rain tapping against the windows played like a lullaby.

Inside Kyomi's dreaming mind, the world was entirely different.

She was wrapped in warmth — not just from the blankets, but from the quiet weight of another body next to hers. She stirred slightly, cheek pressed against the familiar rise and fall of a chest. Yoongi's chest. His arm was slung lazily over her waist, his fingers resting gently on her hip like he was holding something fragile, something he didn't dare let go of. The sheets were tangled around their legs, and Min-ches was nestled between them, her tiny hand wrapped around Yoongi's finger as she slept soundly. Sunlight filtered through gauzy curtains, illuminating the quiet softness of the room. 

The kind of morning that didn't need to be rushed. No shows, no secrets, no separation. Just them. A family. 

The dream felt vivid — his scent in the crook of her neck, his voice murmuring something sleepy and teasing into her hair, the tickle of Min-ches's breathing, and the unshakable sense of safety pressing into her bones.

Kyomi shifted in the dream, her arms coming up to cradle her daughter while Yoongi kissed her shoulder and said something she couldn't quite hear — muffled by the dream, but full of love. She laughed in that dream, a full, quiet laugh that sounded so strange to her even as she heard it. It wasn't the sound of someone guarded or lonely. It was the sound of someone who had finally been seen — chosen. Her heart ached even in sleep, aching with how real it felt, aching because somewhere deep down, she already knew it wasn't true. Not yet. Maybe never. But in that moment, buried in the folds of sleep, Kyomi let herself believe it was. 

Let herself be held. Let herself be whole.

Outside of the dream, her eyes twitched faintly under closed lids, and the smallest hint of a smile ghosted across her face.

In the same still darkness of the hotel room, Mineso stirred beneath the covers, her brows furrowed ever so slightly in sleep. While her body remained still, her mind was tangled in a dream that felt more like a memory. Except in dreams, emotions bled brighter — clearer, louder. She was back in the arena's hallway, fluorescent lights flickering above as the chaos of the night folded around her. Her footsteps echoed against sterile white floors, her heart thudding as she followed the staff member down the narrow corridor toward the medic room. But this time, in the dream, it was as though everything moved in slow motion — the air thick with pressure, the world holding its breath.

She saw the moment again — the blur of movement, the hush of voices, and then the sudden rush of someone darting past them. Yoongi. 

His name hadn't registered in the moment, not until later. But now, in this dream, she saw him clearly. The way his face cracked open the second he laid eyes on Kyomi, the disbelief turning to horror, the sorrow blooming like ink in water. She watched him fall to his knees again, heard the soft, desperate sounds he made as he reached for her friend, like touching her could somehow undo all the time lost. 

In the dream, his emotion was louder than anything — louder than the footsteps behind him, louder than the protests of the staff, louder than her own breath catching in her throat. Mineso stood at the door just like before, frozen, the full weight of that moment pressing down on her chest.