Healer

Prologue: Jimin

It was a beautiful day.

Jimin leaned against the window, watching as monks walked around the rock garden in the courtyard talking in low voices. The sun poured over the grey rocks, forming deep shadows beneath them. A soft breeze filtered in through the window. Beyond the panels and paper screens forming the outer walkway, an old man bent over sticks of incense, hands pressed together in prayer.

It was a beautiful day.

Pity they wanted him to go outside.

"Why not?" the monk beside him asked, resting a hand on his shoulder. "Some sunshine would do you good."

Jimin shook his head, closing his eyes.

"Jimin-ssi, please," the monk sighed, "you'll have visitors later. All this pent-up energy will kill you." His fingers grazed a sore spot at the base of Jimin's neck. Jimin flinched, pulling away, and the monk sighed, shaking his head. "You're going to explode."

Jimin shook his head.

The monk sighed and left, pausing for a moment in the doorway. "Think about it," he said softly. Then he was gone.

Jimin moved from the stool by the window, closing the paper screen gently, and walked to the futon laid out in the opposite corner, sitting down. His legs ached. Slowly, the pain moved up his back and into his neck, then back down and across to his arms, through his chest. He gritted his teeth, closing his eyes, and lay back, letting out a sigh of relief as the cool pillow pressed against the back of his neck.

I'm already shattered, he thought bitterly. What more can this broken body do?

With the screens closed, the light was softer, hiding the edges of the room. There were no mirrors or fancy furniture; just the bed, the stool, and the closet. Inside was an array of outfits exactly like the one he wore, all long-sleeved white shirts and loose white pants. The bed was white, as well--everything else was dark wood and straw mats, besides the paper coverings.

Jimin ran a hand along the covers of the bed, staring up at the ceiling. The simplicity of the place was soothing, drawing his mind out of his aching body and wrapping him in calm. That calm was all he needed. He didn't want to leave the room. He didn't want to see anyone else.

He just needed to be alone, to die quietly.

For someone like him, there was no other option.