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“A bird may love a fish, signore, but where would they live?”
-Ever After
There are stories. Old as the trees stretching to the sky deep in the center of the forest.
Urban legends that school children tell each other under the slides on the playground. The kind that aunties at the corner store whisper anytime something unlucky befalls the town.
Must be the siren.
It’s the kind of thing that seemed absurd as soon as Seokjin moved away for college. He’s seen the world now, the ramshackle town at the foot of the mountains and all their superstitions seem so small now.
He doesn’t believe in monsters in the lake.
But he has never known when to keep his big mouth shut and when his director insists they’re doing a puff piece on ‘ Local Legends and Lore’ for the Halloween season, he thoughtlessly mentions the old stories from his hometown. The ones he’s been trying to forget for over a decade.
He’s given the assignment, unfortunately, and before he can really argue that he has more hard hitting beats to be working on, he’s on a train with Yoongi and Taehyung in tow. They’ve already been at it for a few days- an interview with a professor at SNU discussing the oral tradition in Korea, a stop at some grimey little train station outside of Jeonju that’s supposedly haunted, listening to some ancient, curmudgeonly ahjussi in Daegu that has supposedly been communing with a Gumiho. It feels silly and demeaning to be forced to cover such trivial crap. At least Yoongi and Taehyung enjoyed being in Daegu for the day. They even met up with family for dinner.
Seokjin won’t be doing that when they get to his hometown.
“Okay, so what’s the plan of attack?” Taehyung asks, digging out snacks from a plastic bag he’d suddenly appeared with at the station leaving Daegu. Seokjin is sure he didn’t have it while they were getting their tickets.
Yoongi is leaning against the window, the scenery rushing by in blurs of autumnal brilliance, eyes closed and mouth just barely open as he dozes. Taehyung hands Jin a bag of his favorite gummies, twists the cap off a coke and takes a swig before stashing it away again. Jin shoves a few gummies in his mouth while he watches Taehyung rip open a bag of turtle chips and place one on Yoongi’s bottom lip just where it’s still damp enough to stick. Yoongi instinctively pulls the snack into his mouth, crunching slowly as he starts to stir awake.
“‘Morning, hyung!”
“Why does my mouth taste like corn chip?”
“Turtle chips are your favorite,” Taehyung pouts.
“Yeah, when I consciously put them in my own mouth.”
Taehyung continues to pout. Yoongi eventually rolls his eyes but takes Taehyung’s hand in his own and places it on his lap. It mollifies him, for the time being anyway.
“The station is giving us a few days out here before we hit a couple more towns on our way back to Seoul,” Seokjin says eventually.
“So we get settled and get some real food?” Yoongi asks.
“Hey! I got you tangerines too!”
Yoongi kisses Taehyung’s knuckles but otherwise ignores the interruption.
“Then interviews first thing in the morning?”
“Yeah,” Seokjin nods, scrolling through his notes app. “If we work fast, we should have the last day to relax before it starts all over again.”
“I like that plan,” Yoongi agrees, settling back against the window and closing his eyes.
“Are you planning to see any family while-”
“No.” Seokjin abruptly cuts Taehyung off. He immediately feels bad, though Taehyung seems to take it in stride. “I don’t have family there anymore.”
…..
The village is just as quaint yet breathtaking as Seokjin remembers it, though the buildings don’t seem quite as tall, the smiling faces not quite as comforting.
Seokjin keeps his head down, breathing heavily from the long walk from the remote train stop. Yoongi is at least in as rough shape as he is, though Taehyung is like a puppy, trotting up to every interesting thing he sees. Finally they come to the old hanok building turned motel. Seokjin holds the door open for Taehyung and Yoongi, takes a deep breath and braces for having to actually speak to one of the locals.
There doesn’t seem to be anyone in the front entrance, so Yoongi rings a little bell.
“Coming! Sorry!” A chipper voice calls out from another room.
There’s a bit of a blur of motion as a man much younger than Seokjin was expecting comes rushing through an open doorway. He ducks behind what is clearly a more recently added front desk of sorts and fixes them with a disarmingly bright smile.
Seokjin freezes.
“Hi, we’ve booked two rooms,” Yoongi says as he digs out some identification.
Taehyung props an elbow on the desk and leans a little into the man’s space. Seokjin can only imagine his coy face when he asks, “do you provide turndown service?”
Yoongi snorts, but pulls his boyfriend back a step. He hands over his ID. “Sorry about him.”
“The bedding is in the closet of each room.” He fixes Yoongi and Taehyung with a look, sliding across two keys. “But let me know if you need help.”
“Will do.” Yoongi turns away quickly, but unfortunately for him, Seokjin is getting front row seats to his impressive blush.
“Yes, absolutely will do,” Taehyung croons. “Here, hyung.” He offers the second key to Seokjin.
“Jin-hyung?”
It creates an awkward bubble of silence in the room. Seokjin takes a breath and steps a little closer to the desk. “Hey, Seok-ah.” Taehyung and Yoongi watch like it’s a tennis match. “Feel free to provide Tae here with turning him down service.” He aims to break the tension.
“What are you doing back?”
From anyone else it might feel accusatory, but this is Hoseok.
“News story.”
Hoseok is watching him, scrutinizing. He’s waiting for more than that, but Seokjin can’t really bring himself to say it.
“We’re doing a piece on folklore,” Taehyung says with a smile. Hoseok stiffens.
“The siren?”
“Yeah!”
“Is it a pretty big deal around here?” Yoongi asks.
Hoseok’s stare pierces straight through Seokjin. “Everyone knows the stories.” He finally looks away, gifting Yoongi a sweet smile. “Old superstitions right?”
“Do you believe…” Taehyung starts.
“Jung Hoseok,” he offers.
“Do you believe, Hoseok-ssi?”
Hoseok’s eyes find Seokjin again.
“We all do.”
…..
Seokjin lets himself into his room.
Hoseok had quickly slipped on a professional mask and taken them on a tour of the hanok and it’s grounds. He’d shown them where breakfast would be served and suggested a couple small eateries in the town for lunch and dinner. Taehyung had somehow convinced Hoseok to walk them to a small noodle place down the road so they ‘ wouldn’t get lost’ . Seokjin claimed he had a headache and had bowed out of dinner. Yoongi and Hoseok had looked at him with near matching expressions. They knew it was a lie. Taehyung probably did as well, but he looked at Seokjin with more warmth than he deserved and offered to bring back something for him.
The room is open and clean, the floors warm under his feet when he steps out of his shoes at the entryway. It smells like some kind of incense, something warm and familiar.
He unpacks a little and tucks his mostly full suitcase into the closet, removing the bedding when he does. Seokjin takes his time laying out the soft blankets and arranging things to his liking. Washing up is robotic, running through the motions. He fires off a text to the group chat and lets them know he’s going to sleep, it’s been a long day. The blankets feel like a warm hug and he buries his face down into them. Sleep comes fast.
…..
Damp earth
Damp cheeks
Knees stained green as the moss underfoot
A song
A scream
…..
Seokjin wakes with a startle, hairline damp with sweat. Fucking dreams.
He pushes himself up with a groan and makes his way to the bathroom, splashes water on his face. It’s too early for Yoongi and Taehyung to likely be up, so he takes his time putting away the bedding and getting ready for the day. Eventually he gets sick of staring at the walls and collects his work tote and heads out to the main area of the hanok. As he’s locking the door behind him, he hears something to his right. He looks over just in time to see Hoseok tiptoeing out of Yoongi and Taehyung’s room.
Seokjin has absolutely no choice but to clear his throat. The full body startle and squeak from Hoseok makes up for the awful start to his morning.
“Shit, hyung, you could have killed me,” Hoseok hisses once he’s calmed down enough to register that it’s just Seokjin.
“Very thorough turndown service you provide.”
“What can I say, I’m a professional.”
Seokjin follows Hoseok down the wooden walkways that edge the hanok until they’re back at the main area. He watches Hoseok turn on lights and unlock doors. Maybe it’s the hangover from a bad dream, but he ends up following Hoseok around while he starts his day. Better than being alone. Wordlessly he begins helping Hoseok arrange the dining area, and when they make it to the kitchen, he’s handed an apron.
Hoseok gives him a smile more kind than Seokjin likely deserves. “You still know how to make doenjang-jjigae?”
Seokjin scoffs. “I didn’t stop being Korean. I just moved.”
Hoseok shrugs as he starts pulling out ingredients from the fridge. “Thirteen years is a long time. Maybe you stopped cooking.”
Seokjin sits with it. He doesn’t have a rebuttal. In the last thirteen years he’s been many different people, some of them so far removed from who he is now and who he was then, the Jin that Hoseok remembers. “I still cook,” he finally offers, taking a cutting board from Hoseok.
“Maybe you forgot how phones work then.”
The politely contained vitriol is deserved, he thinks. They fill the silence with a duet of chopping and boiling, rice makers chiming, bowls and pots clanging in time.
When breakfast is ready, they carry it out to the large dining area, arranging things on warmers or in ice buckets. A few people are already starting to file in, sleepy and rumpled as only people passing through can be.
Hoseok helps the few people lining up, elderly hands shaking when they reach for a bowl. He dishes out healthy portions of everything they’d spent the morning cooking and prepping. Seokjin walks a couple to a nearby table, accompanying them with a smile and shamelessly flirting with the aunties and their husbands alike.
When he rejoins Hoseok at the table, he’s made two heaping plates and tips his head to an open table at the edge of the dining area. Seokjin follows wordlessly, taking the seat across from Hoseok and digging into breakfast gratefully.
“So. The siren.”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Seokjin manages around a mouthful of gyeranjjim.
“I thought you said you didn’t believe in it.”
“Not talking about it,” Seokjin says with his mouth still full. He swallows. “But if I was, I would tell you I don’t.”
He’s pretty sure Hoseok rolls his eyes. The thought makes him feel like a teenager again. Like he’s woken up from sleeping over at Hoseok’s house again and filling his stomach with Hoseok’s mom’s delicious food while they laugh about the stupid things that happened at school the week before.
It was the only time he wasn’t the one having to do the cooking.
“You may not believe in it anymore,” Hoseok says, low enough for just the two of them. “But it’s still dangerous to go out there.”
“I have my crew. You’re well acquainted-“
“Jin-hyung, you got lucky last time-“ Hoseok starts before cutting himself off, just in time for arms to wrap around Seokjin’s shoulders.
“Last time what?” Taehyung asks.
“Someone saw my face without protective eyewear for the first time. Can’t risk anyone walking into traffic just because they laid their eyes on this beautiful mug,” Seokjin rushes to say, hoping it hits the mark of his usual antics.
Hoseok just watches him.
“More like we gotta worry about them having gone blind,” Yoongi says in his rumbly morning voice on his way past to the food.
“Hyung!” Taehyung whines while hugging Seokjin even tighter. “Our Seokjinnie-hyung is handsome!”
Yoongi doesn’t respond, hands full of soup bowls.
Taehyung lets go of Seokjin and sits beside Hoseok. Seokjin watches with fond disgust as Taehyung bites his lip and glances coyly at Hoseok. Hoseok for his part is still eating diligently, the occasional look at Seokjin.
“So, how do you two know each other?” Taehyung asks. Yoongi slides into the only empty seat, placing a loaded plate and bowl in front of Taehyung and another set in front of himself.
“School,” Hoseok answers at the same time that Seokjin blurts, “we don’t!”
Neither is telling the truth of course, but at least Hoseok’s answer doesn’t sound insane.
Taehyung’s assessing gaze bounces between Hoseok and Seokjin. Even Yoongi briefly glances up from his plate to make a face at Seokjin. It’s one that says you’re an idiot but it’s still too early in the morning to get into it.
“Mmhmm.” Taehyung hums, and for a second Seokjin thinks he’s going to let it go. “Were you lovers?”
“God, no,” Seokjin says maybe a little too loudly while Hoseok nearly chokes on his soup. Taehyung rubs soothing circles on his back, Yoongi slides over the instant coffee he had just finished stirring.
The not-quite-silence is stifling, the scrape of spoons against bowls and easy chatter of the surrounding tables does nothing to cover the awkward shift. Hoseok peaks over the edge of the sweating glass as he sips.
“We should be going soon,” Seokjin says, shoving the rest of his rice into his mouth.
“Let everyone finish eating before you run off,” Yoongi says, far too relaxed, adding an entire seasoned egg to Taehyung’s plate.
“You really shouldn’t go into the woods,” Hoseok warns under his breath.
“Oohhh, why not?” Taehyung’s eyes grow wide and interested.
“Whether you believe in the siren or not, it’s dangerous out there.”
Taehyung turns wide eyes toward Seokjin and Yoongi.
“Well, lovely seeing you again, Hoseok!” Seokjin stands and pushes in his chair, gathers his dishes into a haphazard stack. “Let’s not do this again soon!”
He takes the dishes to the large plastic bin set off to the side of the buffet table, lets them fall in a little clumsily and marches off to the front of the hanok.
Yoongi and Taehyung will catch up with him. He checks his notes again.
The door opens behind him finally.
“Should only be a ten minute walk-“ Seokjin turns to see Hoseok standing in the entryway.
“Take these.” He hands Seokjin a paper bag tied with string. “Baked fresh this morning.”
Seokjin sniffs at the edges. “Lemon bars?”
“Among other treats. Banana bread, yakgwa.” Hoseok shrugs.
“Thanks.” He means it. He hopes it comes off as sincere. “This is more than we really need but I’m sure it’ll be nice for the trip home.”
“It’s not for you.” Seokjin looks up, startled. “It’s an offering.”
“Huh?”
The door swings wide as Yoongi and Taehyung step out into the fresh morning air.
“We need to grab the equipment from the room,” Yoongi says, turning towards their rooms. “Come help carry.”
Seokjin obediently begins to follow.
“It likes sweet things,” Hoseok murmurs before disappearing back behind closed doors.
…..
“Just keep your focus on me and not the camera,” Seokjin begins to rattle off. “I’ll ask you to introduce yourself and then ask a couple questions about the area’s history and the prevalent folklore. Okay?”
Kim Namjoon sits ramrod straight while Taehyung pats his face with powder. Yoongi is busy checking light meter readings and placing Taehyung’s gear in a safe spot nearby.
“‘Kay.”
Seokjin fiddles with his mic pack and checks his hair in his phone camera. He can smell the warm cookies Namjoon’s partner, Jimin, brought in and he wonders if it’s possible to eat a fresh gooey cookie without getting chocolate everywhere. Jimin has been eyeing him since they arrived at the historian’s home. Seokjin gets it a lot actually, people see him on tv and then they don’t know how to act when faced with the real thing.
“You look familiar.”
“Mmm, yes, I’m on television,” Seokjin responds with his placating little smile. It’s the one reserved for studio execs that want him to do stupid things and aunties offering free samples at the market.
“Did you used to go to school here?” Jimin, asks.
Seokjin quickly becomes very interested in the invisible lint on his shoulder.
“Kim Seokjin-ssi, right?” Jimin’s laugh bubbles out into the room, drawing far too much attention to them. Seokjin can feel his ears getting red. “I knew I recognized you!”
“I’m sorry, I uh…”
“No, of course,” Jimin says with a polite smile. “I was an underclassman. I moved in the middle of the school year the year before you graduated. Not nearly as cute then as I am now.” This time he smiles brightly.
Namjoon makes a noise of discontent from where he’s still sitting and letting Taehyung fuss over him. “Jimin has always been cute, don’t let him lie to you.”
Jimin reaches over and pats Namjoon’s thigh. “I took some classes with your cousin after you moved though. Spent some time at his house after school sometimes and there were pictures of you all over.”
Seokjin hums but he’s straining to see if Yoongi is ready to start filming yet. He feels the approach of dangerous territory.
“Does your cousin still live here? We could visit after,” Taehyung offers kindly, packing away his kit and removing the cape from around Namjoon’s neck, revealing a very scholarly looking cardigan.
“You’ve already spent the night with him,” Seokjin blurts, standing and quickly striding towards Yoongi. “Are we ready yet or what?” His tone is a little too clipped and the hard look Yoongi gives him is warranted. He tries his best to appear apologetic yet pleading. He must do an okay job, that or Yoongi has just worked with him long enough to be able to read his mind, because he softens and nods.
“All set to go. Tae needs to do a mic check, but then we can get started.”
“Perfect!” Seokjin claps his hands together. “Taehyung-ah, let’s get these mics checked!”
“Hyung, if we had known,” Taehyung starts, proverbial tail tucked.
“Nonsense.” Seokjin goes for exuberant acceptance. “You saw my ridiculous Valentine’s piece, I am a bonafide Cupid. Love love! Or whatever it is you’re doing with my cousin-“
Tae opens his mouth.
“Ah ah! I don’t want to know anything!” Seokjin switches his mic pack on. “Now on with the show!”
He can feel Taehyung’s eyes still on him as he goes to take his seat in front of the glaring lights and camera. A watchful eye that never misses anything. He squared his shoulders and settles into Jin .
When he finally chances a glance up, Taehyung and Yoongi are both fully focused on their equipment, however, Namjoon is staring at him.
“No need to start looking at me just yet, Namjoon-ssi.”
Namjoon hastily looks away, turning to Jimin. Seokjin does his best to ignore their whispers.
“Namjoon-ssi,” Taehyung calls out. “Can you speak at your normal speaking volume so I can get a read?”
“Oh, sure… um. Ha!” The laugh is a funny boisterous bark of a thing, but something about it puts Seokjin at ease.
“Just talk to me about something,” Seokjin suggests. “He just needs to check the audio.”
“Um, okay, right.” Namjoon clears his throat. “My name is Kim Namjoon. I moved here about five years ago. Um, the love of my life is Park Jimin-“
Jimin starts to giggle, peering over Taehyung’s shoulder where they’re monitoring things.
“-I heard you had a run in with the so-called siren-“
“Excuse me?” Seokjin’s smile slides off his face.
“Oh, when I first moved here to document the local history of this area, I sort of did this same thing-“ he gestures around the room. “-except it was just me and the recording app on my phone. The ahjummas at the market told me lots of stories, ranging from the ridiculous to the macabre. I thought maybe the younger generation would be a little less… fantastical . But there were still stories and your name came up.”
Seokjin pulls at the sleeves of his shirt, straightening creases that are not there. “I don’t believe in monsters.”
“Neither do I,” Namjoon says with a smile, dimples displayed. He looks boyish like this, the professorial aura dissipating. “But I do believe in stories.”
Seokjin snorts a laugh. “And what exactly is the difference then?”
“Monsters can be an allegory, but usually in the bones of a story, one can find some semblance of truth.”
“You’re a very strange man, Namjoon-ssi.”
Another bark of a laugh. “I get that a lot.”
Before he can really think better or worse of it, Seokjin places a hand over his mic. “I’d appreciate if you left out any mention of any stories regarding me,” he says under his breath.
Namjoon looks a little surprised but quickly composes himself. He mirrors Seokjin, hand over mic. It gives the impression of a knight swearing fealty, hand over heart and head bent close to quietly assure, “of course.”
“Ok, everything’s set. Ready?” Yoongi calls out from behind the camera.” There’s one more just over Seokjin’s shoulder to get a handful of closeups of Namjoon. Taehyung will monitor both from his tablet as well as listening to the audio through his bulky headset. Jimin is already posted up right behind him to watch, a proud smile on his face as his eyes bounce from the screen to the real Namjoon and back again.
They straighten up. Namjoon clears his throat and Yoongi counts them down. Seokjin makes one loud, exaggerated clap and then turns his brilliant, made-for-tv smile on Namjoon.
“Do you mind giving us a formal introduction?”
“Oh, sure. My name is Kim Namjoon, local historian and librarian.”
“Kim Namjoon-ssi, thank you for joining us today.” They both briefly nod to each other, all smiles, Namjoon wiping his sweaty hands on his pant legs. “Now, I hear there’s some pretty spooky stuff happening in the woods around here. What do the local legends say?”
He’s aware that most of his parts of this conversation will be edited out by their team at the station, replaced with establishing shots and voice over he’ll do from a foam lined room back in Seoul. He’ll have his moment center stage for exposition, but he’s been around long enough to know he needs to set the ebb and flow of the interview. That his main purpose here is to make Namjoon comfortable and keep him focused.
“It is believed by many that there is a siren lurking in a lake deep in the woods on the edge of town. Reports of sightings go back at least a few hundred years.”
“That’s quite a long time.” It’s also nothing Seokjin didn’t already know.
“Yes, it is!” Namjoon’s eyes are alight. It’s clear he’s passionate about the topic. “At the museum, we’ve collected old journals from one of the town’s founding families as well as modern police reports.”
Seokjin feels heat prickle at the back of his neck. Wonders if Namjoon has read his own police report. “And what sort of things have you found in those old journals?”
“Among the founding families, one of the founders had a wife, Lim Jihye. She was either tasked with keeping official records or an avid journaler. She detailed how they decided on the specific locations for the settlement, the progress of building the original homes and structures, and… the growing superstitions of the settlers.”
“Superstitions?”
“While leveling an area for farming, the settlers found what they believed to be signs of a an abandoned settlement predating theirs by at least another century or so. Not unusual, though some worried it might be a sign that the area wasn’t suitable for long term settlement. They feared landslides, poor soil, harsh winters- something that would have caused those ancient people to leave. In the beginning, these worriers were outnumbered.
“Jihye-ssi often wrote about her mother’s uneasiness at how close their home was being built to the lake. That once they had children, the spirits woukd become greedy and want to take back from them a bounty equal to what they themselves had taken from the land. Jihye-ssi painted these claims somewhere between comical and irksome, but over the next decade it seemed her beliefs shifted.
“People from the community had gone missing. One or two every few years, most were hunters or gatherers of some sort, I believe once she took note of the town drunk suddenly nowhere to be found. All were last seen or expected in the woods near the lake. None were seen again. No remains were found.
“Some of the townsfolk had claimed to have heard singing while out looking for their lost family and friends. And thus, the legend of the siren was born.” Namjoon laughs a little under his breath. “Jihye-ssi eventually came around to believing the stories, her relatively objective reports becoming more and more like a fantasy novel until the end.”
“The end?”
“Her entries stop rather abruptly about halfway through one of the journals. We have no way of knowing if she simply stopped writing or… if she died.”
“I’ve never heard these stories before,” Seokjin murmurs before remembering himself. “An interesting history to say the least! Now, as I understand it, these superstitions are alive and well?”
“Yes. While we do not have a lot of written records for generations following Lim Jihye-ssi, the oral tradition carried these stories into modern times. Tales of a siren lurking in the lake and leading men to their doom. For a short time in the early 1900’s, there was a law passed to keep people a certain distance from the lake, though this was overturned shortly after due to much of the town’s food sources coming from the nearby lake and surrounding woods.”
“You said you do not believe in the siren, yet you make a compelling case.”
Namjoon laughs, his scholarly image slipping a bit. “Despite police reports filed by people claiming either to have seen the siren itself or by families claiming their missing loved ones must have been killed by the monster, no I do not believe.”
“And why is that?”
“They dredged the lake a few years ago looking for a missing person. There was no sign of any monsters or otherwise.”
“Fair enough,” Seokjin says with a smile. He extends his hand, elbow cupped in the other to shake Namjoon’s hand. “Kim Namjoon-ssi, thank you for your time.”
Namjoon takes his hand, firm yet a little sticky with sweat. “Doesn’t mean it isn’t dangerous out there.”
Seokjin’s handshake falters.
“I may not believe in monsters, but I do believe in the dead and missing.”
They conclude the interview, Yoongi making quick work of breaking down the lights and stowing away the camera. Seokjin hastily untangles himself from the mic pack,tossing it in the direction of Taehyung’s bags and beelines for the bathroom. He drowns out anything the others might be saying with the rush of the faucet.
The Seokjin in the mirror is one he barely recognizes.
Damp earth
Damp cheeks
As much as he wants to splash the cold water on his face, he refrains, the threat of having to completely redo his hair and makeup for the next shoot is enough to pull him back from the edge. Instead, he wets a hand towel, rings the extra moisture from the fabric with knuckles turning white. A few gentle fanning movements, the air cooling the towel further, and he places it at the back of his neck.
Knees stained green as the moss underfoot
It helps.
He breathes deeply and finally turns the water off. The easy conversation in the next room is muffled, but he can distinctly pick out Tae’s low timbre and Namjoon’s clipped laughter. He draped the towel over the edge of the sink and finally braces to return to the others.
“But I thought sirens lived in the ocean,” Taehyung comments.
“Mm, yes, in the original stories of sirens they were creatures that lured men to their deaths with their songs on islands or rocky outcrops in the seas surrounding Greece. However, in Greek mythology, they were actually half woman, half bird.”
“Woah, really?”
“Yeah, which begs the question, what would a bird be doing in a lake?” Namjoon laughs at his own joke.
“So, it’s not a siren?”
“It’s a myth, it isn’t anything,” Seokjin grumbles.
…..
They made a hasty exit after exchanging polite goodbyes and expressing their gratitude. Well… Seokjin exited hastily and Yoongi and Taehyung were left to begrudgingly follow after.
For a brief moment, returning to the hanok feels like a relief. Until Hoseok just so happens to be walking out of the main entrance as they’re approaching the property.
He just wanted to come back and rest a little before the next part of the shoot. Get some noodles from the tiny restaurant down the street, and just not be him for a little while.
But now, Taehyung is acting a little awkward and Yoongi a little hesitant and Hoseok is all smiles and welcoming and asking how Jiminie and Joonie are. Seokjin can literally feel the new grey hairs coming in.
“Hyung, we were going to grab some lunch together, wanna come?” Hoseok asks.
“As much as I’d love to watch my coworkers flirt with my cousin, I’m going to pass.”
Hoseok laughs, seemingly unphased by the revelation that now Yoongi and Taehyung know who he is to Seokjin. “Suit yourself. There’s some leftovers from breakfast in the kitchen fridge, you can help yourself.”
And okay, maybe he’s not as irritated with Hoseok as he previously thought.
“That should be adequate.” He turns his nose up as he passes Hoseok for additional dramatic effect.
Hoseok laughs again and pretends to try and trip him as he goes.
It’s hard seeing him after all of these years. He wants to ask how his time at college was and if he still dances. There’s a little flicker of his old self down in the pits of Seokjin’s soul, hidden away and all but forgotten. That little flame yearns to seek out the closeness he had with Hoseok when they were kids, but he fears it would become a forest fire.
Asking Hoseok how he’s been only opens the door to asking Seokjin questions in return.
No thanks!
Seokjin leaves the others to work through their awkward mild discomfort and seeks out free food that didn’t involve him having to speak to strangers. He lets his brain shut off while he reheats what he has to, letting everything else stay cold. To anyone else it might be embarrassing how quickly he inhales the food, suddenly his feast is nothing but a stack of empty plates and bowls. His strict upbringing doesn’t allow him to leave until the dishes are washed and put away, the counters wiped, and the kitchen looking like he was never even in there.
Full and satisfied, he heads to his room, a nap imminent.
However, he’s stopped on his tracks, surprised at the sight of Jimin loitering outside the main entrance of the hanok.
“I’m not here to make you talk about it.”
“Good, because I wasn’t going to.” Seokjin takes a sharp turn towards his room, striding off and hopefully leaving Jimin behind.
The crunch of gravel under boots tells him he isn’t so lucky.
“I just wanted to give you something.”
Seokjin is a simple man. Someone dangles the carrot of curiosity and he can’t help but stop in his tracks and take the bait. Jimin smiles at him, unassuming. Seokjin thinks he’s a very dangerous man.
“Here-” Jimin holds out something grey and bulky. “It’s a walkie-talkie.”
“For what?”
“Always make Joonie take one with him if he’s doing any scouting near the lake. It has GPS tracking as well.”
Seokjin turns the device around in his hands. “We don’t plan on going into the forest.”
“Just in case… we’ll keep ours turned up and on the charging dock.”
Seokjin hums. “Just in case…”
“Just in case.” Jimin is smiling at him when he glances up.
“Thanks, Jimin.”
“You’re welcome, hyung.” Maybe it’s a little too familiar, but it doesn’t feel wrong, so Seokjin allows it.
“There’s nothing but trees in those woods, though.”
“Right.” Jimin agrees easily. “But it never hurts to be safe. As Hobi-hyung says, safety first, safety second.” He laughs and Seokjin can see how his cousin and Jimin would have been thick as thieves in their youth. Seokjin can almost imagine what it would have been like had he stuck around, summers spent lazing around with friends instead of working any and all dead end jobs he could land in order to survive out in Seoul.
“He’s a worry wart.”
“Usually for good reason.” Jimin turns on his heel and heads back the way he came. At the gate he stops. “Pack something sweet, okay?”
Seokjin is left to watch him jog across the street and around the corner.
He huffs. Superstitions. This whole place is so stuck in time. Even this ridiculous hanok, he thinks as he trudges down the walkway to his room. He’s desperate to get back to Seoul where the thing people are most afraid of is the next work day.
The room is cool and dark when he opens the door and he may or may not backtrack the whole ‘ridiculous’ thought from moments ago.
It smells like something he can’t quite put his finger on though until he follows his nose to the paper bag Hoseok had given him earlier and realizes it’s banana bread. Something sweet . He rolls his eyes and helps himself to a slice. He makes quick work of it, licking his fingers clean. The futon is still on the floor where he left it, and after removing his dress shirt, he lets himself melt down onto the bedding, tension releasing with the drawn out sigh. After quickly setting an alarm, Seokjin lets his eyes drift close and embraces the pull of the siren song that is a good nap.
Siren song.
He snorts to himself.
…..
The whip of barren branches against his face
Muscles burning
Run faster
Run harder
A break in the treeline
Gnarled roots that trip and trap
Giving way to field and flower
Run harder
Run faster
Soft grass
Craggy rock
Until he’s stumbling into water
Ankle deep
He moves
Softer
Slower
Let’s the cold water lap at his knees
His thighs
A song
…..
Seokjin wakes with a start when You! My Beloved blares from his phone.
He slaps around, manages to flip his phone in a way that causes a collision with his chin but eventually he turns off the alarm. His eyes feel crusty and his mouth stale. It feels like there’s sweat around his temples, he’ll probably have to retouch his hair and makeup after all. He sighs and groans and grumbles, but with no one around to appreciate the theatrics, he just quietly pulls himself up and sets to the task at hand.
Muscle memory kicks in once he has stepped into the bathroom. His mind wanders while his hands stay busy with getting him back to camera ready.
The dream is already wisps of smoke dissipating from the edges of his mind.
But the anxiety remains.
This little sticky tacky bubble of tar threatening to coat his insides. It’s not new by any means. Begrudgingly, he pulls himself up just above the surface of dissociation to tell himself to take a pill before leaving.
When Jin is finally the one looking back at him in the mirror, he packs everything away. The pill container rattles in his bag when he goes digging for it. He pops a tablet into his mouth, bitter and chalky on his tongue before washing it down.
Still another ten minutes until he needs to meet Yoongi and Taehyung, he needs to keep his hands busy. He folds and straightens and packs and arranges. The room fills with the saccharine scent of pastries and bananas.
The paper bag Hoseok had given him has turned dark in places where the sweet treats inside have stayed pressed. He rolls his eyes but tosses the bag into his tote. Taehyung will appreciate the treat if nothing else.
…..
The Hanok is already on the edge of town, nestled in the oldest parts of the area. Nothing has been built more recently than the late eighties, some of the old shrines tucked between aging wood and crumbling stone pathways. Seokjin doesn’t think any of it is from the time of the founders, but maybe he should have asked Namjoon.
As it is, it’s a short walk to the edge of the woods. Seokjin would have rather caught a ride, but Taehyung had insisted on seeing more of the quaint town and Yoongi had given him an excuse to do so with claiming additional establishing shots couldn’t hurt. So they wander through the streets, buildings diminishing the closer they get to their destination, until it’s trees as far as the eye can see. The fall foliage paints a pretty picture. It makes Seokjin laugh. As if there were dark things lurking in these woods. It’s silly. Just rocky terrain and fools that thought they were mountaineers.
“This looks good,” Yoongi says, gesturing to a particular angle of the treeline.
Yoongi doesn’t wait for a second opinion and begins setting up his camera and lights. Seokjin can manage his own mic pack, so for the moment Taehyung lets himself wander.
“Stay close,” Yoongi calls out, not even looking up from what he’s doing.
The golden rays of late afternoon verging on evening, dance in the shifting leaves, a cool breeze sending shivers up Seokjin’s spine when it meets the sweat damp patches of his shirt. He takes a few photos with his phone, a couple of selcas in alternating levels of silly and serious. He’ll add them to his insta shortly before this ridiculous piece is planned to air.
“Tae-yah! You want some snacks? I think your new boyfriend made them.” Seokjin rummages through his stuff, hoping the pastries aren’t too squished.
They seem fine, so he grabs a small yakgwa and places the paper bag just inside his tote for the others to grab from as they please.
He stands up and glances over at Yoongi, hands still bracing a light rig. Yoongi is staring straight into the woods in front of him.
“Tae?” Yoongi calls out.
Seokjin peers into the trees, eyes sweeping across the warm shades of umber and rust.
Taehyung is nowhere in sight.
Yoongi steps around his light set, calling for him again. Seokjin’s head is filled with static, but his feet manage to carry him to where Yoongi is headed straight for the woods.
“Taehyung-aaahhhh!” Seokjin’s voice cracks a little. He can feel a tremble work its way through his body. “Wait!”
Seokjin grabs Yoongi’s arm before he can take off into the woods. Panic is etched into Yoongi’s face, limbs wound tightly, ready to take off full tilt to find Taehyung. He doesn’t look like he plans to listen to Seokjin for long, so in a rush, Seokjin collects his tote, that ridiculous walkie talkie somewhere on its depths. He catches up to where Yoongi is already entering the first layer of trees.
It’s peaceful. Gentle autumn breeze filtering through the rustling leaves.
“Be careful,” Seokjin finds himself saying.
“Of what?” Yoongi asks before shouting Taehyung’s name again. “We’re nowhere near the lake and monsters aren’t real.”
“Right.” They keep a quick pace, but the ground ahead seems relatively even, almost worn into a path in some places. He’s not sure if he expected gnarled roots and scratching bramble, but it’s almost picturesque. “People have still died out here.”
“Well don’t fall.”
There’s not much they can see but trees and splashes of colors and the forest floor at their feet. As they walk, Seokjin digs out the walkie talkie from his bag, turns it on and tests the button. They both jump when the device makes a sharp beep and crackle.
“What’s that?”
“Jimin loaned me some sort of high tech radio thing. It has GPS.”
There’s another crackling noise and then a distorted tinny voice too loud for the quiet of the woods. “Jin-hyung?”
Yoongi starts trudging forward again and Seokjin does his best to keep up. “Jimin. Yes, uh… hello.”
“Are you alright?”
“Um. We’re in the woods.” He releases the button for a second before clicking it again. “Taehyung is…”
He’s not sure what to say. Taehyung is missing, sets his heart hammering in his chest, slamming against his ribs until it feels hard to breathe.
“In the woods?”
“Yeah. Yoongi and I are going to find him.” If he says it as truth, then it is. Right?
“Joon and I are on the way. Keep us updated and keep the radio on.”
“Okay.”
“What’s that?”
Seokjin looks up from where he’s clipping the radio to his tote bag. Up ahead the slightly beaten path becomes dotted with stone pavers slowly coming together to form a cobbled road, and at its center sits a squat stone statue. There’s nothing else around as far as Seokjin can tell. They draw closer apprehensively until the figure takes shape. It’s a traditional style tiger with a fish in its mouth and at its feet sits a wide basin for offerings. It looks to have only collected the leaves that have just begun to fall. Yoongi gives it a wide berth and continues down the road.
The stones slowly peter out the further they get from the statue until suddenly they are stepping back out into golden evening sunlight.
The lake glitters before them.
“What… we’re not supposed to be anywhere near here,” Yoongi hisses, part fear, part exasperation. He yells Taehyung’s name and it echoes back at them.
Without giving it much thought, Seokjin brings the radio back up to his mouth. “Jimin?” The beep when he lets go is too loud here.
All he can hear is the rush of blood in his ears and the edges of the lake lapping at the shore.
“It’s Namjoon. Did you find Taehyung?”
Seokjin finds himself clicking the button several times, each accompanied by a breath but he can’t quite say the words until Yoongi looks at him, stricken. “No. We made it as far as the lake.”
It feels like an eternity until the radio comes to life again.
“Hyung, it’s Jimin.”
“Jimin-ah, what do we do?”
Yoongi’s voice echoes around them. Taehyung, Taehyung, Taehyung overlapping into an unintelligible crescendo.
“Hyung, can you describe the area you’re in? Any landmarks or anything that would stand out?”
Seokjin looks around him. It’s just water and woods in every direction. “I don’t know, we passed a little statue? On the old road?” His eyes continue to scan the horizon. They catch on a ripple in the water, little waves echoing out like Yoongi’s voice has echoed around them. The silence stretches now, Yoongi and Seokjin waiting for Jimin’s answer.
There’s the distinct sound of something moving through the underbrush. It’s too close for Seokjin’s comfort. A splash draws their attention, heads whipping to the side. Across the little inlet of the lake, to their right, Taehyung stumbles through water up to his knees.
“Hyung!”
Yoongi practically goes running straight into the water before Seokjin can catch him around the waist and pull him back. Taehyung is smiling, huge and boxy, waving his phone around and eyes wild with delight.
“Hyung, I got it! I really got it!” He starts to laugh, sounding like the hinges have come undone.
“Tae-yah! What the hell are you doing out here?” Yoongi yells, though only to be sure he’s heard across the water. Seokjin can feel the shortness of breath in the way his chest heaves.
“I heard singing,” Taehyung yells back excitedly. “I had to look, I had to know!”
“Know what?”
“If the siren was real or a hoax!”
Seokjin shakes his head, finally letting go of Yoongi now that he doesn’t seem a likely flight risk. “Tae, it’s neither. It’s just an old legend.”
“No, hyung, it’s real!”
For a moment, there’s stunned silence. Yoongi and Seokjin are stuck staring across the water at Taehyung, and with the adrenaline and fear of Taehyung missing now abating, an ugly anger begins to creep through Seokjin’s veins.
“Tae, people have died out here! You can’t run off into the woods without saying anything, you could have been hurt and we would have had no idea where to find you.”
“The siren would have led you to me.”
“There is no siren!” Seokjin screams, the storm of emotions thundering in his chest and out into the world with his words.
“There is. It brought me to you,” Taehyung insists.
The radio suddenly crackles to life.
“Seokjin-hyung?” This time it’s Namjoon.
“We found Taehyung.”
“Oh, um okay. That’s good. Jimin has another walkie-talkie and is headed in to help guide you out. Switch to channel twelve so we can all communicate.”
“Got it, switching to twelve.” It takes a moment but Yoongi is able to help him get switched over to the right channel. “Okay, we’re here now.”
“Tae, how did you get to that side?” Yoongi is calling behind him.
“Hyung, ” Jimin’s voice comes through a little rough. It’s clear he’s talking on the move. “Are you still by the lake?”
“Yeah, we’re trying to figure out how to either get Taehyung on our side or us to him.” He laughs. “I think at least one of us might be going for a swim.”
“No! Do NOT get into the water ,” Jimin says so loudly his voice comes through the speaker distorted and shrill. “ Just stay where you are, I’m coming to you.”
“Jimin’s on his way,” Seokjin relays to Yoongi and Taehyung, both standing mere millimeters from the water’s edge.
“How long will that be?” Yoongi asks, anxiety laced in every syllable. “Not much daylight left.”
“I’m not sure.”
Taehyung looks less worried across the inlet, face tucked in close to his phone, smiling widely and making little noises Seokjin has come to associate with Taehyung’s excitement. The kind he hears when they occasionally play games on the train or leading up to whatever questionable things his two coworkers get up to behind closed doors.
“Here.” Seokjin digs out the paper bag of goodies. “If we’re going to be trekking through the woods, we’ll need the calories.”
“Taehyung…”
“Taehyung-ah! Do you have any snacks?”
“Yeah, hyung,” he responds without looking up from his phone.
“Okay, sit down and eat while we wait for Jimin-ssi.”
“I fucking hate this,” Yoongi grumbles sitting on the ground, paper bag in his lap.
The lake view is so picturesque, the lingering warmth of the sun creating a glow akin to the best indie films out there. And yet… Seokjin desperately wants to be back past the treeline and into town. He wants to be snuggled into the bedding back at the hanok. It feels wrong to be here.
By the time Jimin arrives, they’ve nearly finished off the sweets and Yoongi and Seokjin have begrudgingly kept up a long distance game of Cham Cham Cham once Taehyung’s phone has died. Seokjin is practically sprawled out on the bank when he hears Taehyung exclaim excitedly. Sitting up he sees that Jimin has come crashing out of the woods on the same side of the lake as Tae.
“Was there a bridge we missed?” Seokjin muses to Yoongi.
“Everyone alright?” Jimin asks loudly enough for them to hear as well.
“I want out of these damn woods!”
“How do we get over there?” Yoongi asks.
“If we follow the water line for a little going that way-” Jimin points to their right. “The inlet funnels into a shallow stream where you can cross.”
“Shouldn’t we go back the way we came?” Seokjin asks, thumb hooked over his shoulder.
Jimin’s brow furrows and he looks from Seokjin to Taehyung and back. “Town is this way.” He points vaguely over his own shoulder.
“But we came from over here,” Yoongi says, gesturing in the same direction as Seokjin.
“Whatever, let’s just follow the tour guide and get the hell out of here.” Seokjin is already standing up and brushing off his pants. “Okay, let’s do this,” He calls out across the lake. He crumples up the snack bag, the last little yakgwa falling out on accident. He kicks it into the water. Let the fishes have it, he thinks.
…..
Luckily Jimin came prepared with flashlights, because the sun fully sets before they’ve actually left the woods. It’s clear he has spent some time out here though and expertly leads them back to almost the exact place they had entered. Their equipment sits untouched. A little car is pulled half into the grass nearby and as they approach the lights blink twice, chirping in time.
“I’ll give you a lift back to the hanok,” Jimin says, opening up the trunk of the car to dump the flashlights and his radio in.
While they have plenty of lighting they could set up for the shot, they make quick work of packing things up and pile into Jimin’s car. Seokjin knows he looks like shit anyway and he can see that Yoongi is ready to wrap Taehyung up in blankets and not let him go anywhere.
“Jimin, have you ever seen the siren?” Taehyung asks as the car rumbles to life.
Jimin makes a humming noise that doesn’t really convey a yes or a no, but it doesn’t deter Taehyung.
“I saw it.”
“Siren isn’t real,” Seokjin insists.
“How else do you think I found you?” Taehyung argues back.
“You heard me and Yoongi screaming your name.”
“No.” Taehyung’s tone is starting to find its way into chilly territory. “There was a splash and when I looked there were ripples leading away from me so I followed and then I found you. The siren showed me where to go.”
“That’s ridiculous, Taehyung.”
“Hyung,” Yoongi warns from the backseat. He’s seen the pressure of their work pick at Seokjin and Taehyung’s edges until they’ve had to sit down and quietly stitch themselves back together as a team. Seokjin bristles, but he closes his mouth because he knows deep down he’s just exhausted and he doesn’t want to fight with Taehyung.
“I filmed the whole thing, I’ll show you,” Taehyung says grumpily before tucking into Yoongi’s side.
Seokjin can see Jimin’s shoulders stiffen. His eyes dart to the review mirror. “Oh yeah?” Jimin asks casually. “Any good shots?”
“Not sure. I’m going to use hyung’s programs to mess with it and see.”
“Don’t encourage him,” Seokjin says under his breath.
Jimin’s eyes cut to him before fixing back on the road. He hums in acknowledgement.
It’s not long before Jimin is pulling to a stop at the hanok. “You’ll be back out there filming tomorrow?”
“Unfortunately,” Yoongi grumbles.
“Keep the radio then,” Jimin says to Seokjin. “And maybe stay out of the woods.” He smiles charmingly but it’s clear Taehyung feels a little chastised.
Hoseok wanders out of the front just in time to see Jimin’s tail lights disappearing around the corner. “Was that Jimin?” It only takes another moment for him to take in their appearance, weariness in their bones and twigs likely in their hair. “What happened?”
“Woods,” Yoongi answers vaguely.
“I saw the siren,” Taehyung says sleepily. Gone is the excitement from earlier. Seokjin feels moderately guilty.
“Wow, really?”
“Mmhmm. The guys on the forum didn’t believe me.”
“Forum?” Hoseok’s head tilts ever so slightly. It reminds Seokjin of when he was a kid.
“Yeah, I told them I saw it and they said there’s no way.”
“He’s really active on a message board about cryptids and fantastical beasts,” Yoongi explains.
“I didn’t think you were planning on filming in the woods.”
“We weren’t and we didn’t.” It may be a little biting, but Yoongi doesn’t do anything but side eye Seokjin. “I’m going to bed.”
“Did you eat?” Hoseok asks, but Seokjin keeps walking in the direction of his room. He’ll sneak into the kitchens later if he has to but he needs to be horizontal immediately.
He all but kicks the door closed behind him when he gets into his room. The sound he makes when he removes his shoes is caught somewhere between pained and pornographic. His feet ache, blisters likely hiding under his sweat soaked socks. This outfit was meant for the camera and not hiking.
The quiet of the room makes Seokjin’s ears ring. He’s so tired but he feels disgusting and the last remnants of the fear and anger still lingering in his tightly coiled muscles. He opts for running the hottest bath he can manage. It stings as he lowers his body into the steaming water, but he can already feel how the tension is leaving his body.
Fucking woods , he thinks. Fucking monsters, fucking stupid fucking job.
He tips his head back onto the rolled towel on the edge of the tub. The gentle splash when he moves is comforting. He closes his eyes and breathes in the steam.
Cold water laps at his knees
His thighs
A song
A splash
A fear in his gut like an open maw devouring the rest of him whole
His muscles ache to
Run fast
Run hard
Heart hammering against his rib cage
Scales slip and shine
Just at the surface
The water licks at his shoulders
Turn back
Turn back
Pretty words from pretty lips
Lap at his ears
Water crests
Choking
Drowning
Running though his feet no longer touch the ground
Seokjin wakes with an awful start, choking on the bit of bath water he just inhaled. His mouth tastes like soap and rural tap water, his face pulling into a dramatic grimace while he coughs. Water cascades over the edge of the tub before reality quite catches up with him.
A dream.
Just a dream.
Though it’s one that feels too sharp at the edges. Too deep in his bones. Like his body remembers, as if his muscles had been coiled tight in his sleep.
He gets out and dries off. Wanders over to his bag, half dry and half naked. The pills rattling frays his nerves, so he makes quick work of taking one and putting the rest away. It’s both easier and more strange to focus on the techniques his therapist has taught him, here, in this unfamiliar familiar place.
Seokjin doesn’t think he’s ever been in this hanok before, but hasn’t he? This hanok, this town… they’re all just placeholders for his youth and memories he wishes were more forgotten.
He fills the time it takes for his medication to kick in by getting dressed, slapping on the bare minimum of skin care, if only to make the time spent getting ready for the shoot in the morning less grueling. The soft siren song of the bedding calls to him, the gentle brush of his comfiest pajamas against his skin, and the Pavlovian effect of the scent of his toner signaling it’s time for bed. He sways toward it before his stomach starts growling.
With a roll of his eyes and a refusal to change clothes, Seokjin slips on some shoes and sneaks over to the lobby of the hanok.
Everything’s quiet save for the occasional snore as he passes by a room and the low hum of the lights lining his path. He expects the front doors to be locked or at least a sign to turn people away until operational hours, but Seokjin walks in unencumbered.
He makes it all the way to the kitchen before he realizes his foolhardy mistake.
“Hey.”
“Hoseok.”
Seokjin does his best to otherwise ignore his cousin sitting at a small table, half illuminated like some teen’s parent in the kinds of ridiculous movies Taehyung loves to make them watch during their travels. He goes straight to the fridge to find the easiest thing to grab and eat.
“There’s kimbap and tteokbokki in the two stacked Tupperware on the left.”
“No one’s going to miss them?” Seokjin is already removing them and shuffling over to the microwave.
“Nah. I made them for you.”
It makes Seokjin pause, but he can’t let Hoseok win this awkward social interaction, so he pops the tteokbokki in the microwave and starts it. He samples a piece of the kimbap while he waits. Unfortunately, this time he can’t keep his reaction in check. And to be honest, he really wouldn’t want to. Good food should be acknowledged and appreciated.
“Thank you,” he says around another large bite.
“Jimin said you went into the woods.”
Seokjin’s shoulders drop, heavy with a sigh. “Yeah.”
“Why?”
Irritation sizzles under his skin. Who is Hoseok to treat him like a naughty child? He’s not his mom…
“Why do you care?” It’s childish maybe, but Seokjin doesn’t care. It’s the middle of the night, after a long and nerve wracking day. He’ll be a goddamn child if he wants to be.
Hoseok seems taken aback for a moment before his features are schooled into a sharp look. “You think I don’t care?”
Seokjin doesn’t answer. He shoves another piece of gimbap into his mouth.
Hoseok scoffs, head shaking ever so slightly. “You’re an idiot.”
“Always have been.”
“Don’t do that,” Hoseok bites out. “Don’t hide behind jokes. Not when it comes to something like this.”
“Like what?” The microwave chimes, but Seokjin ignores it.
“Like you didn’t show up out of nowhere for the first time in a decade, practically treat me like a stranger and then go traipsing through the woods like nothing happened! It's like you want to pretend like you don’t remember. Me, this town, everything that happened. I feel like I don’t know how to talk to you or if you even want me to talk to you, but I can’t just pretend it didn’t happen.”
“She died, Hoseok. I don’t know what you want me to say.”
Hoseok stares at him, a little wild eyed. “Why are you here, hyung? And don’t give me the bullshit excuse.”
“I don’t kn-“
“I understand closure, but wouldn’t it be enough to just visit her shrine? Why risk your life?” Hoseok is practically begging.
“I honestly don't know what you’re talking about. The siren?” Seokjin feels like he’s on uneven ground. Like those fun houses, meant to disorient. Topsy turvy. “The siren isn’t real, Hoseok! It’s just a stupid story a bunch of people came up with forever ago to explain things they couldn’t wrap their heads around.”
“Is that what you did?”
It steals the words from his lips. Everything goes still, every muscle in his body. Everything goes quiet, but it’s not a peaceful quiet. It’s the charged, crackling silence before the thunder rushes in after the lightning has cracked.
Seokjin wants to be angry, but mostly he’s just hurt.
With stiff limbs, he begins to gather the kimbap and tteokbokki, some utensils-
“Hyung.”
“Goodnight, Hoseok.”
“Wait-”
“Just drop it!”
Hoseok doesn’t say anything at first, but he’s standing in Seokjin’s way when he turns around, hands full.
“I’ll leave it alone,” Hoseok says softly, as if speaking to a cornered animal. “But it scares me, what you’re doing.”
“I’m not doing anything,” Seokjin sighs, frustration having bled out into tired defeat. “I’m here to do my job and leave. I don’t want to be here any more than you want me here.”
Hoseok clicks his tongue in annoyance. It’s so much like when they were kids that it makes Seokjin falter. “But I do want you here. I spent years begging for you to visit or to let me come visit you, but I can only take so many unanswered texts and only ever hearing your voice on your voicemail before I take a hint and stop calling. So, yeah I fucking want you here, but not if I have to watch you have some sort of mental breakdown and let yourself get killed.”
“I’m not having a mental breakdown.” It’s mostly true. Probably. “And I’m not going to get myself killed.”
“Then what are you trying to do in the woods?”
“We were looking for Taehyung! And we found him and then we got the fuck out. Why are you so hung up on this?”
“Because the last time you came out of the woods, you were never the same,” Hoseok cries out, voice cracking.
The silence that follows is deafening.
“I was a kid. A scared, confused kid. My whole world ended. I was never going to be the same as before, with or without the woods.”
“So, what… everything you said was a lie?” Hoseok shakes his head. He’s already made up his mind.
“It was a trauma response!” Seokjin’s throat is raw, tight, like the words are having to claw their way out. “I didn’t see a monster in the woods.”
“What about the-“
“No! I stumbled back out of the woods by luck or whatever and that’s all that matters.”
Seokjin strides out of the kitchen, through the lobby and out the front door before he has to listen to any more of this. He can hear Hoseok calling after him. He makes it to his room and it seems like Hoseok has given up the chase, but a loud moan and the distinct sound of a hand clapping down on soft skin has him turning tail and marching right off the property. Body on autopilot, brain turned to static, hands clammy with warm tteokbokki and cold kimbap. He doesn’t think, he just goes.
A nearby building casts long shadows across the ground. Seokjin follows them. He ends up at the little park at the end of the street, the one just across from the woods.
For as often as he’s made out to be a scaredy cat, Seokjin doesn’t really fear the dark. Not in the quiet out here. Maybe it’s from too many summer nights wandering the streets long after he should have been in bed, tempting thoughts of running away, as far as his little legs could take him. Instead, they took him around in intricate patterns over well worn roads ending right back at his darkened doorstep. He was much more afraid of what lurked here than any monster in the lake.
There’s an old bench, worn with age and the elements, overlooking the flower beds. Seokjin slumps into it. He lets himself have a moment, quiet and solemn before he compartmentalizes and unpacks his dinner.
The tteokbokki has lost its heat, sapped probably by the kimbap, leaving them both a balmy room temperature.
He lets his body enter cruise control, chopsticks up to mouth, bite, chew, swallow. Brain static. Breeze rustles the trees. Little flowers dancing back and forth.
Eventually he comes back to himself, kimbap long gone and just the last bites of the tteokbokki swimming in the bottom of the container.
He scoops the final rice cakes up with his chopsticks, fitting all of them in his mouth at once, cheeks bulging, lips pursed as he chews. Even kind of cold at this point it’s good and he feels full and sated. Seokjin sighs in appreciation.
The sound of it is strange in his ears.
Like the noise is echoing in his ears. Or maybe his head. A slight reverberation. As if played back to him in gentle harmony.
He should head back, go to sleep.
But the lilting sound comes again.
A pretty trilling noise rising and falling in soft waves of song. Seokjin scans the area but there’s not a soul in sight.
He stands, dumping the plastic containers in a beat up, rusted receptacle near to the road. He realizes belatedly that he brought metal chopsticks with him. Oh well, it’s not a long walk back to the hanok and he can just stack them in his room and let Hoseok collect them after he’s long gone and on to the next stupid town.
“Aaariiraang, aariiraang, aaraariyooo,” comes a voice like a summer breeze, warm and inviting in the chilly autumn night. The lyrics stretch, well worn, pulled like taffy that’s just as sweet to Seokjin’s ears. “ Youuu are going over Ariraang Hiiill.”
Sleepy syllables, on the cusp of a yawn. Seokjin can picture the person curled up in a plush bed, eyes closed, soft lips parted, beckoning for someone to crawl in with them.
Leaves crunch under his feet.
Trees close around him. The park disappears as he treads down the little foot path.
The tiger’s maw is still gripped tight around the fish. Shadows cast deep in the furrows of its beastly face.
It seems so much more menacing in the moonlight.
“ My love, if you abandon me, your feet will be sore before you go ten ri. ”
The surface of the lake glitters and undulates, catching the light and throwing it in Seokjin’s direction. He feels eternal. A star where flowers bloom.
“Just as there are many stars in the clear sky, there are also many dreams in our heart.”
Seokjin stands ankle deep in the gentle cresting edge of the lake. There’s a tug in the center of his chest, pulling him to deeper waters. His eyes trail from the ripples radiating from his shins, out across the water. The woods make a solid black backdrop, framed by the dark star dusted indigo of the sky and the shimmering silver gilding of the lake.
At the water’s edge, across the inlet, someone rests draped against a protruding rock.
The familiar lyrics fade into melodic humming, little nonsense sounds reminiscent of the cooing one might do for a baby. His feet drag across the lake bottom when the water hits his chest, walking becoming wading, becoming swimming. Seokjin sweeps his arm out in front of him to pull himself through the water, the small splash it makes echoes loudly around him.
The humming stops.
When Seokjin refocuses on the person across the lake, they’re no longer by the rock. He whips his head wildly from side to side, but he doesn’t spot the person anywhere.
Idly, he spins in a slow circle, treading water, but his eyes stay sharp.
Movement catches his eye.
Under the surface of the water, just in front of him, something moves.
It slices through the water with ease, delicate in its movements. Only after it has circled around him with elegant efficiency does it cross Seokjin’s mind that it might also be deadly.
A shark in shallow waters.
With a delayed sense of urgency, Seokjin swims back toward the shore. Fear is settling in. He feels like he’s just awoken from a dream, except he’s currently living a nightmare.
Something brushes against his side, cold and sleek, verging on sharp, like nails dragging over his skin.
Gasping, he flails out, trying to ward off the thing in the water. The palm of his hand connects with something solid. Scales press in all around him. Seokjin lets out a scream before he’s wrapped tight and pulled under the water.
Moonlight disappears.
Lake water fills his mouth.
He closes his eyes tight, and maybe he’s not as ashamed as he thinks he should be when he realizes he’s waiting for death. He doesn’t even bother trying to reach for the metal chopsticks.
His eyes snap open.
Dark tendrils move through the water in front of him. Seokjin tries to pull free, head whipping from side to side. The inky dark cloud swishes and sways until it parts and he finds himself looking into wide, glassy eyes.
The aborted gasp leaves him choking on water. One more body claimed by the lake.
One more life claimed by the siren .
He feels it from the crown of his head first. A biting cold that rushes down his face and to his shoulders. “F-fuck!” He catches himself hacking out. He wheezes and coughs and catches his breath. When he tries to wipe the water from his face, to move the hair out of his eyes, he realizes he’s mostly immobile.
“ Preetttyy. ”
Seokjin freezes.
Those same dark glassy eyes watch him, unblinking. Black hair drapes like curtains parted over a face half submerged and then spreading out into the water like seaweed.
Seokjin gapes.
He can feel strong muscles moving around him. Undulating like the lake water in the moonlight. The gentle slide and scrape of scales.
“Ss…” Seokjin ends up hissing out, barely audible, the word not quite able to find its way out of his chest. Siren.
Ripples radiate from the monster as it lifts its head and Seokjin finds himself being moved through the water, closer to his demise.
He cowers in the siren’s hold, as much as he can anyway, but he ends up face to face with what appears to be a young man. The dark eyes trace over Seokjin’s features, studying him. There’s a crinkle to its nose, a rather distinct feature for something Seokjin assumed would breathe water? What does he know? He’s not a marine biologist! Would a marine biologist even be the right scientist to study a lake…. Monster… thing??!
He’s spiraling in his last moments.
“Mmm. Quiieet,” the beast says, croaky and deep like Seokjin knows his own voice can be first thing in the morning, rough with disuse.
“Please let me go,” he breathes out, too scared to do more than whisper.
“Thank youuu.” It’s confusing and startling, causing Seokjin to frown, but the thing just smiles, sharp little teeth on display. Seokjin feels like he might pass out.
“What?”
“The hmm-sweet. Thank youuu.”
The words seem deliberate. Like the siren is thinking and choosing with care. Seokjin briefly wonders where such a thing would have learned human language.
“I… don’t understand.”
“Youu brought a treat. Thank youuu.”
“Sorry. I… I didn’t bring anything with me.”
“Beefore.” He nods his head with finality.
Seokjin thinks about the only time he’s been here. Well. Not the only time. But he thinks back to when he was here with Yoongi, searching for Taehyung and fearing this exact fate had befallen him. What will his friends think when he’s nowhere to be found come morning?
“The yakgwa,” he finally mumbles.
“Yaaakgwwwaaa,” the siren works his mouth around seemingly foreign syllables.
“The treat was yakgwa. My cousin made it.”
Hoseok.
Seokjin is going to die tonight and the last thing he did was fight with Hoseok.
“Yummyyy.”
A startled laugh bubbles up out of Seokjin. It shocks both of them, but he can’t help it. This manic reaction to the threat of death coupled with a monster saying something as absurd as yummy.
Every time he thinks the laughter is petering out, he starts back up again until suddenly it becomes wracked sobs.
Something touches his face. He realizes his eyes had squeezed closed during the onslaught of tears.
“You crryy?”
Webbed fingers wipe so gently at his face. Wrists dotted with scales that catch the moonlight, framed with wispy fins trailing up to elbows, more scales like freckles up thick biceps and across the breadth of solid shoulders.
“I don’t want to die.”
Another wide, toothy smile and nose scrunch. “Good.”
The siren twists around and begins moving them through the water, but Seokjin passes out before he gets to see what ugly end he is being dragged towards.
…..
Water crests
Choking
Drowning
Running though his feet no longer touch the ground
Pretty words from pretty lips
Lap at his ears
Tears fall like autumn leaves
Streams of sea water
Poured out into the fresh
Until he’s swimming in brackish waters
Ground rises up
To meet his tired feet
Gentle hands
Gentle smile
Leaves underfoot
Out of the undertow
Ears clogged
Drenched to the bone
The earth holds him
And a magpie calls in the trees ahead
…..
There’s a stiffness to his clothes and his hair, even more so in his joints. Seokjin feels like his whole body was put through a heavy wash cycle and hung out to dry. He'll have to probably start getting ready for their shoot soon, but if his alarm hasn’t gone off then maybe he can squeeze in a little more sleep.
It’s chilly in his room. He reaches for the blankets to pull tightly up to his chin.
The fabric at his fingertips feels thick and heavy, worn like Seokjin’s favorite flannel. He pulls it closer to his face, but it smells like earth and moss.
Cracking his eyes open feels painful. It’s still mostly dark, but there’s a wash of early morning light at the edge of his vision. It illuminates craggy stone.
It illuminates a confusing and unsettling tableau.
He sits atop a pile of clothing, held inside the mouth of a cave. Water laps just inside the opening.
Seokjin pushes away the threadbare flannel in his hands and scrambles for the entrance to the cave. He thinks he’s alone in here, can somewhat see the back of the cave, but there’s no telling and he’s not willing to risk it. He checks the stretch of water he can see in front of him.
No siren.
Slow as the tide, Seokjin eases himself into the water. He’s hoping once out of the cave’s entrance, he can quickly get to shore and therefore safety.
His heart hammers in his chest with each slow stroke through the water, but eventually he passes the stones walls and finds himself in the open water of the lake. Taking a quick look behind him, he finds the opening has all but disappeared, a trick of the eyes making the bit of depth between the two layers of wall blending into an almost seamless image.
The sun is cresting over the horizon. Seokjin glides as gently through the water as he can. The rock face behind him is a sheer drop, too tall to climb. It extends far enough in either direction that he’s pretty sure swimming directly across this section of the lake would be more feasible.
He keeps his movements slow and gentle, barely more than floating. There’s only a short distance between him and land. He can see through the clear waters where the rock shelf starts. Where he will be able to stand.
Golden morning light catches, reflecting up at him.
A shimmering haze of opalescent colors dances in the sunlight ahead of him. Tiny rippling rainbows that when he focuses his eyes, finally take shape.
In the space just before the shallows, a giant fish curves through the water, it’s face almost within reach. One large eye stares up at him from a dark nearly purple head, shades of silvery blue and pink and green cascading down its body.
It looks like a rosy bitterling… but one of those could easily fit in Seokjin’s hand. This… this one is nearly the size of a rowboat.
The beautiful creature continues on its way, the edge of its massive tail bumping into Seokjin as it passes.
He’s left a little in awe, but he shakes it off. Finally making it to the rock shelf, stumbling through the lake’s edge and tripping onto dry land.
“Youuu’re leaving?”
Seokjin rolls to his side, scraping his elbow on rocks.
The siren bobs out in the water, watching him curiously.
Maybe he’s lost his entire mind, but Seokjin answers, somewhat sheepishly, “yes?”
“To go hommme?”
“No, to… why is your Korean so good?”
It’s a bit stilted and every word sounds like it’s being handpicked delicately from a garden, but it’s not just understandable, it’s very clearly spoken. Who is out here teaching monsters to talk?
The siren, honest to god, giggles and swims closer. Seokjin’s pulse races and he scoots further back, feet scrabbling on the loose rock. The thing effectively beaches itself in the shallows, wriggling until he can place his chin on the knuckles of both hands, smiling what would probably be a pretty cute smile if it was a little less pointy.
“I like talkiiinng,” he says with a little nod of approval. Like he’s proud of himself.
Though Seokjin is a safe distance away… he hopes… in the daylight, he can see the monster much better. His dark hair falls around his shoulders, heavy with water, but when he moves his head, the glittering scales hiding underneath make him look dusted in diamonds. Little color shifting rainbows.
“Oh… the fish. It was you,” Seokjin says dumbly.
This time when the siren smiles, it’s like he’s proud of Seokjin.
Ears turning red, Seokjin clears his throat. “Who’s out here talking to you anyway?”
“You are talking to me.”
And well… he’s got him there.
Seokjin humphs, crossing his arms. “Ouch,” he hisses.
The scrape on his elbow smarts. He inspects it. There’s a shallow gash there, some blood, and unfortunately it looks like a little bit of gravel has gotten in there.
There’s a splash and then suddenly wet slapping feet sounds and Seokjin is utterly gobsmacked when he has practically a lap full of wet, naked man… siren… thing. Naked. Holding his elbow up to his face.
“Don’t eat me!” Seokjin shrieks.
“You are hurtinnng.”
Seokjin is either feeling brave or stupid when he cracks one of his eyes open. Shiny eyes dart from his elbow to his face and back again. Sticky hands move his arm around like it’s something delicate. When the sun catches just right, he can sort of see through the webs between fingers, glowing warm tones from the light.
The rocks bite into his skin when he shoves back. The siren tips forward a little, shock coloring his features. Seokjin struggles to his feet, wide, wet eyes tracking his movements.
His heart is racing.
He’s bleeding in shark infested waters.
A primal need to get away thrums through his body. Before he can really form a coherent thought, he’s sprinting back through the woods. He has no idea if he’s heading in the right direction, but he hopes he’s pointed toward safety.
Startlingly bright light flares in his vision causing him to stumble, his feet sliding out from under him.
He’s broken through the treeline and popped back out only a few short steps from the park he’d started in last night.
It’s disorienting. There’s a sense of deja vu. He’s come back to the real world, and though it’s the same place, he barely feels like the same person. Birds are singing as if his whole world hasn’t been turned upside down.
The siren is real.
…..
“Where the fuck have you been?”
“Good morning, Yoongi. Lovely morning, isn’t it?” Seokjin rumbles out, trudging across the property heading straight for his room.
Yoongi makes a face at his more than disheveled appearance.
“Hyung!” Taehyung raises one of his eyebrows smiling coyly. “Did you sleep somewhere else last night? Is this a walk of flame?”
“Shame, Tae,” Yoongi corrects.
“Absolutely not,” Taehyung argues. “Why be ashamed of that?”
“Hmm.”
“Exactly.”
Seokjin side steps them to let himself into his room.
“You’re late though,” Yoongi grumbles. “We should already be at the location and-“
“Just give me like ten minutes.”
“We’ll go set up,” Taehyung offers, pulling Yoongi by the hand.
Seokjin is grateful. He’ll be sure to order extra portions of meat at dinner for Taehyung.
“He’s practically celibate. You shouldn’t tease him, let him enjoy himself for once,” he hears Taehyung murmuring as he shuts the door behind him.
On second thought, Taehyung is dead to him.
He makes quick work of showering, let’s a face mask settle on his face while he blow dries his hair. Luckily they all keep mini first aid kits in their bags, so Seokjin cleans and bandages his arm, picking a shirt dark enough to be sure it isn’t seen. He does the bare minimum of makeup, hoping the editing team will take pity on him and his desperate eye bag situation, and rushes out the door.
It’s basically the same path he took last night as he catches up with Yoongi and Taehyung. It puts a heavy weight in his stomach.
He’s had time to try and make sense of last night and this morning. He’s pretty sure it’s some sort of PTSD reaction to being back here. The siren isn’t real. He probably fell asleep on the bench in the park and went sleepwalking or something.
There’s no such thing as monsters.
“This lighting is not it,” Yoongi is complaining when he reaches their little set up.
“It’ll be fine. Let’s just get this over with so we can go home.”
They’ve worked together for a long time. They’re professionals. They can push through a little bit of awkwardness and tension. Especially when it’s mostly radiating off of Seokjin.
Yoongi finishes his set up, Taehyung checks levels, swaps out Seokjin’s pack for one of his newer ones, checks again and soon enough Yoongi is counting him down.
“Even here, on the outskirts of a quaint village nestled in the mountains, stories of mysterious things lurking in the lake have stood the test of time.” Sparkling scales and an old folksong snag at his focus like brambles in the woods. “For generations, locals have claimed a siren has lured countless victims to the bottom of the lake. We spoke to local historian, Kim Namjoon, on the topic.”
“You look stiff,” Yoongi says, stepping back from the camera to look Seokjin in the eye.
“It’s a fucking puff piece! No one is going to notice that I’m not the picture of relaxation.”
“If anything, maybe it’ll look like he’s actually scared of the woods behind him,” Taehyung offers, pulling the headset away from one ear.
“He looks constipated.”
“Do you want to do the news, Yoongi? You want to switch places and play the nation’s fool every couple weeks?”
Yoongi watches him for a moment. “Let’s roll again.”
Seokjin turns away from the greedy eye of the camera. He takes a couple deep breaths. The gentle wave of the autumn leaves splashed across the scenery behind him help to sooth him.
Arirang, arirang, arariyo
Seokjin takes a step back from the trees.
“Hyung, you're out of focus. Go back to your mark.”
Seokjin swallows. He does his best to hand over control to Jin and plasters a cheap smile on his face.
“Even here, on the outskirts of the lake. Shit, sorry.” He shakes out his arms and legs, blows air aggressively through pursed lips. “Even here, on the outskirts of a quaint village nestled in the mountains, stories of… stories…”
“Take five,” Yoongi calls out.
“No! I’m good, let me go again.”
“Even- Even here…”
Police sirens screaming. The two patrol cars in the entire area painting the whole park in flashes of red and blue. A woman rushing from a yellow ambulance, silhouetted by green light in a jarring contrast to the blurring purple stop motion around him.
She’s saying something to him. The dark lingers at the edges of his vision, night only kept at bay by the sensory overload of the emergency vehicles. She wraps him up like a baked potato, the kind he’d roast around a fire in the backyard with Hoseok.
He’s hungry. When’s the last time he ate? He’s going to be in so much trouble when he gets home. It’s past curfew and he hasn’t even started dinner. What will mom think?
“Hyung?”
Seokjin refocuses. Yoongi is standing right in front of him, edges soft with concern.
“Sorry. I think I need a break after all.” It’s barely more than a whisper.
“I called our team and worked out another day for us.”
“What?”
“We were supposed to get a day off, it’s not a big deal, we could all use the rest.”
“Okay.” He doesn’t want to stay another day, but he doesn’t have anything left in him to argue with Yoongi.
“Shooting in broad daylight isn’t very spooky,” Yoongi teases, as if the shot was ruined by the light and not whatever Seokjin is doing. “We can come back before dinner and try again and then we’ll have tomorrow to relax before we head out.”
“You just want to woo my cousin,” Seokjin tries for levity.
Yoongi’s smile is a little too kind and comforting. So Seokjin places a hand on his shoulder and moves Yoongi out of his way. “I can’t believe I work with a couple of self-inflicting homewreckers. You’re tearing this family apart.”
“You and Hoseokie-hyung or the three of us?” Tae asks.
“Yes!”
…..
It’s quiet in his room.
When they had gotten back to the hanok, Taehyung had led them all into the main dining area. Seokjin and Yoongi sat down and waited wordlessly. There was some noise from the kitchen area but before Seokjin could suggest checking to make sure Taehyung wasn’t wielding either knives or something on fire, Tae was bounding out with a big smile.
“Hyung said he’d make us something to eat!”
So they sat and they ate, and the entire time Seokjin’s head replayed the long drawn out syllables of Arirang.
As soon as he could get away with it, he’d mentioned taking a nap and fled to his room. But he hasn’t been able to sleep. Hasn’t even been able to rest.
He paces around the room, his mind circling just the same as his feet.
Years of therapy.
Years of knowing that the siren was not real. That it was a trauma response. It was easier to be afraid of the thing in the lake than the real monsters lurking in his life.
He remembers that he wasn’t afraid in the woods.
He was afraid to come back out.
…..
It’s reckless. He’s an idiot. Maybe he should just talk it out.
He can hear Hoseok in his head.
And yeah, the imaginary version of his cousin in his head is probably right, but he snuck some sweets out of the kitchen and it’s broad daylight and he has that ridiculous walkie-talkie this time.
He just needs to remind himself.
The siren isn’t real.
The weather couldn’t be more perfect, crisp but still warm in the bright sunlight. No one pays him much mind as he makes his way from the hanok to the woods, barely hesitating before striding straight in.
It takes no time at all to pass the tiger statue, and soon enough he’s standing at the edge of the lake once more.
Everything seems so painfully ordinary. Birds call out in the trees overhead, bugs humming just out of sight. If he hadn’t grown up hearing of all the superstitions, the missing people, the supposed killings, he would think it a perfect camping spot. Could see himself ankle deep in the shallows, fishing.
He looks for any sign of… well, anything. Not a siren, obviously, but maybe something that would make the jagged pieces of puzzle in his head come together.
“You’re just a stupid lake.”
Seokjin kicks a rock into the water and watches it ripple out in endless aftershocks.
With decades of clashing feelings ricocheting in his chest, Seokjin screams at the top of his lungs. It sends the nearby birds scattering.
He huffs, folding his legs underneath himself, ready to lounge like a lizard in the sun before he starts his walk back. The paper bag of goodies he nabbed from the kitchen feels loud in the echoing silence his outburst left behind, but he finds a jian dui rolling around the bottom and quickly pops the sesame ball into his mouth.
Peering out at the now tranquil waters, Seokjin finds it funny that this place was ever cause for fear in the first place.
Except… dark eyes are staring back at him.
In the center of the inlet, the top half of a head sits stabilized in the water like a moored boat, only the eyes and ink black hair breaching the surface.
“ No ,” he breathes out to himself.
The monster blinks.
“You’re not real,” Seokjin shouts.
Dark brows furrow. The water wakes behind him as the siren slices through the water in his direction.
He doesn’t slow as he nears the water’s edge, the chorded muscles of his arms bulging where they reach out to dry land, pulling the unimaginable weight up onto the shallow shelf. Bulky shoulders and a broad back give way to dramatic dips at the waist before melting into a long tail, fins flanking his hips and a rather sharp dorsal trailing down his spine and past where a tailbone might have been. The end twists and curls, occasionally slapping against the water, strong despite how delicate the wispy caudal fins look. The siren drags himself closer, scales scraping against rock in the strangest sound that sets Seokjin’s nerves alight.
He’s never been prey to a fish before, but there’s no doubt in his mind who the predator is here.
More than halfway out of the water, the thing opens his mouth, sharp teeth on full display, and growls out, “yaaakgwwaaa.”
Seokjin sits frozen. Stunned.
“You bring yaakgwaa.” It’s not even really a question.
Seokjin looks inside the paper bag and sure enough there are a couple pieces of yakgwa. He fishes them out. Nearly laughs at the pun if he wasn’t so frightened, and tosses one of the sweets in the direction of the siren. The monster catches it easily and pops the whole sweet into his mouth.
It’s just as startling and unsettling to watch the thing smile in content, chewing happily.
“You camm-mm back,” the siren says around his mouthful.
“I’m clinically insane, I think.”
The thing hums like he’s either trying to make sense of the words or like he might actually just agree.
“Kim Seokjin, you’ve finally, truly lost it.”
“Kim? Seokjiiinn,” the siren warbles out uncertain, head quirked a little to the side.
Seokjin swallows audibly. “Y-yeah. That’s, uh… me.”
“You? You are Kim Seokjiinn?”
Seokjin nods.
The siren humphs. “More.”
“More?”
He rolls his eyes. There’s a splash of water and then a suddenly very naked almost-man, but certainly more man than he was moments ago, is striding toward him. Seokjin feels like a deer in headlights as the monster closes in on him, but he simply sits in front of Seokjin and grabs for the paper bag.
“Hey! You’re going to make it soggy!”
Those wide, wet eyes sparkle up at him, little lips pursed in a pout that has Seokjin’s heart racing all over again. “Soggyyy?”
“Your wet grabby hands are going to make everything mushy and lake flavored.”
Seokjin tears off a little bit of the bag and presses it to a scaly shoulder. It sticks and darkens with moisture. The siren cranes his head in a funny angle to see it, which makes Seokjin laugh unexpectedly.
The other yakgwa is sticky in Seokjin’s hand, so he holds it up to the siren’s face, opening his own mouth to indicate what the creature should do. Rows of sharp teeth greet him, but he drops the treat into the siren’s waiting mouth anyway. He watches him chew, eyes closed, eyebrows furrowed.
“Mmmgood.”
His skin is a warm color but patches of cooler tones frame in his face from his hairline. The siren’s hands are clasped onto two knobby knees. Seokjin follows the barely there line of where he saw the fins on his arms before. The scales still cluster and dot across his skin like little galaxies and constellations. However, when he glances down, where there used to be a tail are now long, muscled legs ending in toes just as webbed as the siren’s fingers.
And far too much skin.
“I feel faint.”
The siren makes a sound caught somewhere between confusion and alarm. A funny little “ nng” sound.
Seokjin laughs, a little manic. A lot unhinged.
“Faint?”
It’s pretty good mimicry. The longer they speak, the more natural the creature sounds. Almost human. It reminds Seokjin of the birds he encountered on vacation many years ago. Ones that could copy the door chimes of the nearby shops.
“I do not know faint.”
It’s horribly endearing. Seokjin is horribly endeared. He’s endeared to the thing with sharp teeth and a body count.
Seokjin’s eyes roll back in his head and he cuts the strings on his marionette body, allowing himself to topple backwards. He expects to flop onto the rock behind him, if he’s lucky the grass at the edge will catch his head. It’s probably not going to feel great but he’s already committed to the bit.
Instead, strong arms wrap around him, the siren tittering in concern. It breaks Seokjin’s character and causes him to start laughing which only seems to further confuse the thing.
Seokjin keeps his eyes closed anyway, limp dead weight. He really shouldn’t be this cavalier with a killer.
“What happens-“ Seokjin starts. As reckless as he’s already being, it feels dangerous to mention the blood on the siren's hands. The hands currently cradling his body.
“I should go,” he says instead, sitting up abruptly and untangling himself from the creature’s hold.
“Go?”
“I’ll be late,” he guesses, judging from the sunlight. He still has plenty of time before they shoot, but there’s a lingering fear that his friends might not even notice if went missing. Would they think he finally snapped and just leave him behind?
Seokjin glances at the siren. He expects a fight maybe? To be dragged into the lake and to his watery grave.
What he isn’t expecting is another sort of odd little pout.
“You will go far away?”
Not today but soon enough, so he nods. “Yeah, back to Seoul.”
“No one ever comes back.”
“Huh?”
The siren stands and meanders back to the water. “They always leave,” he says, practically falling into the water, waves rippling out from the splash. When he resurfaces, more scales have appeared on his neck and chest. Seokjin doesn’t have to see to know the tail must be back as well.
“Do you have a name?”
Maybe it’s his deeply ingrained drive to be polite or maybe it’s some primal need to give his fears, his mental breakdown, a name.
“I once was called after a nation of spindle trees,” he answers, gesturing to the forest around them before submerging up to his chin.
Seokjin thinks about it for a moment. “Jungkook?”
The water shifts, indicating what was probably a nod.
He places the bag of treats down on the dry stretch of rock. Despite everything, Seokjin finds himself lingering. He may have come around to accepting that the siren isn’t just a figment of his imagination. A tall tale meant to scare little kids from wandering off. But there’s still too much to unpack. He isn’t ready to confront what fifteen year old Seokjin thinks or feels right now. Hell, he barely knows what thirty-one year old Seokjin feels.
“Goodbye, Jungkook.”
The water swallows up the rest of the siren and he doesn’t resurface.
Seokjin sighs. He turns and starts heading back to his now well worn path. As the trees start to close around him, he hears just barely loud enough to carry over the sounds of the cicadas, “goodbye, Kim Seokjin.”
…..
“-no, they were so excited! A couple of them said they were going to make the trip,” Taehyung is excitedly telling Yoongi when Seokjin wanders into the dining area. They’re the only two people in the room, everything clean and quiet and orderly outside of the breakfast rush.
“For what?” Yoongi scoffs. “I hope they like camping and swimming.”
“What are you guys doing in here?” Seokjin asks on his way to the kitchen to hopefully find some food.
“Waiting for Hoseok,” Yoongi drawls. “What are you doing?”
“Avoiding Hoseok-hyung,” Taehyung whispers with a grin, clearly picking up on the complete change in Seokjin’s demeanor.
Seokjin shoots him a glare. “Mind your business.”
“Want to hide under the table?” Taehyung offers.
Seokjin considers it. “No. I’m a well adjusted adult capable of being cordial with my cousin.”
Yoongi snorts.
Seokjin chooses to ignore the disrespect and pulls out one of the empty chairs at their table. At least if Hoseok runs into him like this, he has two buffers.
“Hyung, I messed around with the footage and the guys took it back! They totally believe me now.” Taehyung smiles, big, boxy and proud.
“What footage?”
“What I shot when I was lost in the woods! I told you, the siren led me to you guys. The guys didn’t believe me, but now they do!”
“The… message board guys?”
“Yeah, I sent them the cleaned up footage and a couple of guys are coming here to see for themselves.”
“What?” Seokjin feels sweat breaking out along his hairline.
“I hope they’re respectful of the area and to the locals.”
“Hyung, not everyone on the internet is a mouth breathing neckbeard ready to make everyone they meet uncomfortable. These guys are the real deal.”
Yoongi hums, unconvinced.
Seokjin doesn’t hear much else of what they say. He can’t stop picturing fully equipped monster hunters, catching the siren. Catching Jungkook. And then what? Parade him around, selling tickets to see the mythological creature? Would they kill him just to say they were the ones to do it? Long hair, blue tinged gills, wide unblinking eyes staring out from where Jungkook’s head is mounted on the wall.
“I gotta go,” Seokjin says, tripping over himself as he gets up from the table. He’s pretty sure they call after him but his ears are ringing too loud to hear.
He’s out of breath when he gets back to the edge of the lake. A familiar paper bag lays empty and soggy almost exactly where he left it.
“Jungkook!” He calls out in an otherwise serene space.
Silence answers him.
“Jungkook,” he shouts louder, desperate. He staggers forward until the tips of his sneakers kiss the water.
“Kim Seokjin?”
His neck cracks from the speed at which he turns to the side. Jungkook is basking on a rock, tail extended out to the shallows, his upper body draped over a large rock, his stomach and cheek soaking up the heat it holds. His eyes are a little swollen, blinking heavily at him like he’d been fast asleep.
“Jungkook! You have to- I don’t know! Hide?”
“Nng?” The big stupid fish just rolls over lazily.
“Get up! Or in the water! There are people coming!”
That seems to shock Jungkook into motion. He shimmies back into the water until he’s fully covered and watching Seokjin. “People?”
“They want to see the siren for themselves and I don’t know what they’ll do if they find you,” Seokjin pants, bracing his hands on his thighs while he tries to catch his breath.
“People that find me are meant to.”
“What does that mean?” He doesn’t get an answer. Why is he even trying to save this cryptic cryptid anyway?! Clearly he has no self preservation!
“These men are professionals or something. Fanatics maybe? What happens if they tell the whole world you’re here, huh?”
Still nothing but shining eyes watching him.
“What if the military comes and drains the lake and cuts down the whole forest trying to capture you, or worse?”
Finally he elicits a gasp. “They would not harm the wood and water.”
“They might!”
Jungkook seems to think this over. “I cannot leave.”
“What? Why?!”
“Where would I go?”
It knocks Seokjin speechless for a second.
“With me,” he answers before he can really think about it. But maybe it makes sense. “No one will be looking for a siren outside of the lake”
“It is unsafe.”
Seokjin laughs. “You know, the townspeople say the same thing about the lake.”
Jungkook looks around him in confusion as if he’ll suddenly see what fears could possibly be lurking there, not realizing that the threat is him.
“Could I?”
“What?”
“Go with you?”
It sounds so innocent. Seokjin could almost forget that he’s speaking to someone that has been around for hundreds of years.
“You’ll have to lose the tail.”
Jungkook nods. He makes some movements in the water and once again he comes striding out of the lake on fresh legs.
“Wait, I can’t take you through town naked,” Seokjin says, thinking aloud.
Jungkook looks down at himself, not an ounce of shame.
“Naked?”
“Yeah, you need clothes.” Seokjin could give him the jacket he’s wearing but that doesn’t exactly help with the lower half.
“I have clothes.”
Jungkook dives back into the water. Seokjin follows the moving water until it ends at the rocks on the other side of the cove.
Oh. The cave. The pile of musty clothes.
Sure enough, Jungkook comes back, a bundle of fabric under one arm. They’ll be wet, but hopefully they’ll dry while they walk. Once he’s back on the shore, Seokjin tries to give him some privacy until he hears noises of frustration.
When he turns around, Jungkook has one foot in a pair of jeans pooled on the ground and a grey sweatshirt caught over his face and one arm. Seokjin has no choice but to help him.
He takes hold of one edge of the fabric pulled taut over Jungkook’s head, gently keeping him in place while Seokjin pulls a zipper tab slowly until it reveals Jungkook’s surprised face. It makes them both laugh. With a little maneuvering, Seokjin gets the hoodie settled. It’s of more than questionable cleanliness, but the grey color helps to hide it he thinks.
With bright red ears, he helps Jungkook into the ratty jeans. They’re in such rough shape they kind of come back around to being fashionable. If not for a distinct lack of shoes, Jungkook could be just another youth out in the streets of Seoul. Well, if you didn't look too closely.
“You might need to pull your hood up if we come near people. The scales are a bit eye-catching.”
Jungkook feels around the skin left exposed by the hoodie, which is more than there should be if anyone is asking for Seokjin’s opinion.
He makes no move to zip it up further.
Jungkook makes a little noise when his fingertips finally trace over a few scales dotting along his chin and collarbone. Seokjin startles when Jungkook starts aggressively rubbing at the spots.
“Hey!” He catches hold of Jungkook’s wrist. “What are you doing, you’ll hurt yourself.” Seokjin can already see red patches of aggravated skin.
“They can come off. I just have to-“
“Let hyung do it.” Seokjin’s embarrassed blush blooms further down his neck when his brain catches up to his mouth. Jungkook is older than most of the oldest buildings he has ever been in. He’s ancient in a way that Seokjin can’t really conceive, not when he looks so young and doe eyed.
“Hyuunng.”
Seokjin chooses not to address it. Instead he places Jungkook’s arm at his side and inspects the small clusters of scales. There’s a mother of pearl quality to them. They look delicate, fragile, yet Seokjin has felt their scrape before.
With a blunt fingernail, Seokjin lifts the edge of one gently. He’s anxious he’s about to hurt Jungkook, but with a little pressure, it gives and comes free of his skin.
He takes his time, tilting Jungkook’s head, working silently. When he has a handful of scales and Jungkook looks nearly human, Seokjin looks up satisfied only to finally register just how close they are.
This whole time he’s been holding a powerful jaw filled with sharp teeth, moving it at his will with no resistance. It sends something rushing wildly through his stomach.
“All done,” he announces shakily.
“Thank you.”
Seokjin nods, eyes focused anywhere but at Jungkook. “Will your feet be okay without shoes?”
“I never wear shoes.”
“Fair enough. Let’s go.”
He’s not sure at what point it becomes clear that Jungkook obviously knows his way. There’s no hesitation in his steps as he leads them away from the lake.
Seokjin watches Jungkook walk. Maybe he’s watched too many movies, but he expected there to be stumbling and wobbly legs. Instead, Jungkook is sure footed, leisurely strolling as if this is a typical day for him.
The wet spots around the neckline of the hoodie are starting to dry out, Jungkook’s hair too. It surprises him a little to notice the slight curl, but even more so the blue shine of those waves when the sun catches them just right. The blue-black sheen reminds him of the magpies so famous in this area.
“Do you… shift?… often?” Seokjin asks.
“Shift?”
“Have legs?”
“Not in a long time.”
“Is it difficult or uncomfortable?”
Jungkook hums, thinking. “Feels missing, my tail. And hmmm too dry.”
Seokjin laughs. “There are water bottles in my room.”
When they approach the tiger statue, Jungkook pauses.
“What’s wrong?”
“This is the line.”
“Line for what?”
“Where I am supposed to stop.”
“What does that mean?”
“We agreed. I do not pass.”
Seokjin is trying to fill in the gaps in whatever Jungkook is trying to tell him. He wants to ask who the agreement is with, but they don’t really have a lot of time. “What happens if you pass?”
Jungkook looks at him. “Before... I passed once and nothing, but I did not leave the trees.”
“Okay… well, I guess we'll see what happens.”
Regardless, Jungkook gives the statue a wide berth.
The bugs and the birds keep time with the beat of their steps. It’s soothing and inspite of everything happening, all the oddities of the situation, Seokjin feels rather at peace. Like he’s strolling with an old friend.
“This feels… kind of familiar,” he muses.
Jungkook slows his pace to be able to see Seokjin while they walk.
“When I was a kid, I… came out here. I was lost, but…”
“But?”
“I found my way out.”
“How?”
“I don’t know. I remember lots of birds, just like this.”
Jungkook makes a little surprised half laugh, eyes wide when Seokjin looks at him. He seems to get bashful when he realizes Seokjin is watching him.
“Ah,” he says, holding back a smile that still quirks the corners of his lips. “The birds are helpful.”
They walk in comfortable silence. Maybe it’s a trick of the light or Kim Namjoon’s voice tumbling around in his head, accompanied by the songs of the birds, but Jungkook’s hair, piecey as it dries, looks like a spray of feathers framing his face.
When they reach the edge of the forest, Seokjin is a little stunned to realize there isn’t an entire town waiting for them with pitchforks. It’s just as he left it earlier this afternoon. He checks to make sure there is no one immediately in their path before stepping out to cross the street.
“Ah!”
Seokjin whips around to find Jungkook stumbling back into the woods.
“Shit! Can you not pass?” He doesn’t know anything about agreements with mythical creatures!
Jungkook lifts a foot, holding it tenderly. “Hot.”
Seokjin tries to put the pieces together.
“It hurt my feet,” Jungkook pouts up at him.
“Oh, the street is hot,” he guesses. “Come here.”
It takes some doing but eventually Seokjin gets Jungkook on his back.
“You’re so heavy.”
“Big muscles,” Jungkook giggles back there.
They somehow make it to the hanok without running into anyone and Seokjin makes quick work of getting them safely behind closed doors.
Seokjin collapses onto the bed, sweaty and out of breath. He turns his head and watches Jungkook putter around the room, touching and looking at everything he comes across. He picks up one of Seokjin’s sweaters and makes little noises at the feel of it, running those webbed fingers over the soft fabric. He brings the sweater up to his face, breathing deeply.
“Oh,” Jungkook murmurs. He smells the fabric again and sighs. “It’s nice.”
Seokjin smiles. “Your clothes are a little musty.”
“Mmusty.”
“Do you… want to change?” Jungkook looks down at his bare feet. “Not your body! Just your clothes.”
Jungkook looks at his dirty sweatshirt, he seems to get lost in it.
“Here, come with me.”
He follows Seokjin without question or hesitation into the en suite. Seokjin turns the faucet for the bath and is forced to step back when Jungkook crowds the space.
“Little lake,” he says in awe as the tub fills.
“You can take off the clothes you’re wearing and take a bath.”
“Hmmm.”
“You sit in the water and use these to clean your hair and body,” Seokjin says, moving his travel toiletries around the edge of the tub. Seokjin checks his phone for the time, though he notices a bunch of missed calls and texts. “I’ll find you some pants too.”
He turns off the water and walks back into the room. There’s a clean pair of soft cotton pants in his bag that he lays out.
There’s several attempts from Yoongi and Taehyung and even Hoseok to reach him, but he ignores them and instead checks a text from an unknown number.
[Unknown]
Hyung it’s Jimin
You can leave the radio with Hobi-hyung if you don’t have time to stop by on your way out of town
Seokjin startles when there’s a loud sound from the bathroom.
When he rushes back in, Jungkook is in the tub, however, his long, shimmering tail drapes over the side of the porcelain and across the bathroom floor.
“Oh.”
“Sorry.”
Seokjin waves it away, approaching the tub. “Is the water a good temperature?”
“Warm. It’s nice.”
“Good.” Seokjin smiles.
Jungkook takes one of the bottles. It’s body wash, and Seokjin isn’t really sure what that would do to the scales, so he gently swaps it with the bottle of shampoo. “For your hair.”
Jungkook looks at him confused.
“Hyung will do it,” Jungkook says.
It’s not even a question and Seokjin would normally squawk at the disrespect, but he can’t help but laugh. He’s not even technically the hyung here.
But he takes the bottle and tips Jungkook’s head back before sudsing it up with shampoo.
“Feels nice.” The end of his tail idly slaps the floor.
Seokjin scoops water with his hand, rinsing Jungkook’s hair as much as he can. He adds a little conditioner to the ends of the silky strands. Jungkook’s eyes have closed, relaxing further into the water. He rinses out the conditioner and sits down next to the tub.
He pushes the grubby cave clothes out of his way.
“What’s with the pile of clothes?”
“What’s with?”
“Yeah, where did they come from?”
Jungkook sighs. His tail slaps the floor again. “People leave things sometimes.”
Seokjin tries to decipher what that means exactly.
Jungkook eventually peeks at him. “Can I sleep?”
“What are you nocturnal?” Seokjin teases.
“I swim at night, sleep during day.”
“Oh. You are then.”
Jungkook hums, eyes closed again.
“Okay, let’s get you out of the tub so you don’t…well I guess you can’t drown, but still.”
Seokjin is completely dumbfounded when Jungkook sits a little straighter in the tub and all of those scales and fins fall away into a rush of water, revealing toned legs with those endearing webbed toes.
Jungkook is unphased by the amount of water he just doused the floor with, standing up and stepping out of the tub. Seokjin quickly wraps him in a towel, tossing the rest that are folded on the shelf to the floor to try and soak up the mess. He instinctively just rubs at Jungkook’s hair, revealing a fluffy, damp mess when he lets the towel drop to his shoulders.
“Now the sweater will stay smelling nice and not like lake water.”
Jungkook manages to get himself dressed this time. He marvels at the feel of the fabric against his skin.
Seokjin plops onto the bedding and Jungkook copies him.
“Nng!” He ends up rolling around a little, sniffing pillows and touching the blankets.
“A little more comfortable than the pile of clothes in the cave.”
“You sleep here?”
“For now. I’m just here for a little while.”
“You go far away?”
“Yeah, kind of.”
“No one stays,” Jungkook says forlornly, settling into the soft sheets. “They come for a little while and then they go far away.”
“Who?”
“The people that visit me at the lake.”
Despite the obvious clues to this being the case, it’s still jarring to hear it confirmed.
“Who visits you at the lake?”
“The sad ones.” Seokjin stays quiet, waiting for Jungkook to find his words. “They come scared and sad and they stay with me but in the end they go away. And I miss them but I am happy they try again.”
“What are they trying again?”
“To live.” Jungkook yawns, lips smacking. “They come for me to hurt them but they stay and then they go.”
“Hurt them?!”
“They hear the stories. They think I am scary. That I hurt, but I don’t hurt any more. I eat well, why eat my friends?”
Seokjin thinks this over. Tries to string together what Jungkook is saying and everything he’s ever heard about the siren .
“People come to the lake looking for you so that you can… kill them?”
“But I don’t!” Jungkook insists.
“Of course not. You didn’t hurt me.”
“They stay at the lake for some days. We talk and be friends but they always go.”
“Maybe because you helped them.” Seokjin can see the cogs turning in Jungkook’s head. “They came hurting and you helped them.”
“I helped?”
“Yeah, maybe.”
“Hmm.”
“Does it get lonely out there?”
Jungkook nods, which really just digs his head further into a pillow. “They don’t come as often. Only you.”
“In how long?”
“Mmm. I don’t know time. Feels forever, feels not so long.”
“That’s very human.”
It makes Jungkook laugh sleepily. “Mm not human.”
Seokjin doesn’t quite agree. “Then maybe I’m a fish.” He purses his lips in a ridiculous kissy fish face.
Jungkook erupts in giggles. “You’d be a good fish.”
“Are there others like you?”
“When tigers smoked pipes, there were many. All my brothers. But we were separated. I miss them too.” He sighs wistfully. “They used to tease me that I had a destiny. Feels like a cruel joke now.”
“What kind of destiny?”
“Where I would never be alone.”
A sharp knock at the door startles both of them.
Seokjin jumps up, frantically gesturing to Jungkook in big wild movements that are only putting a look of confusion on Jungkook’s face. He ends it with a dramatic shush before creeping over to the door.
He opens it just a crack and Taehyung is standing on the other side, smile starting to morph into suspicion when Seokjin doesn’t open the door all the way. He’s trying to formulate anything to say when Taehyung gasps.
Seokjin pulls the door a little tighter when Taehyung steps closer, a conspiratorial look on his face. “Is the person you spent last night with in there?” He whispers.
“Um.”
Another gasp. “They are! Oh my gosh, wait til hyung hears about this.”
“Yoongi or Hoseok?”
“And Jimin!”
“What?! Why Jimin? He doesn’t need to know anything about me.”
“Well he’s here to see you.”
“Why?”
“He heard from Hobi-hyung that we were still here so he came to get the radio he gave you. We’ve been hanging out.”
“Hyung!” Jimin calls out from somewhere behind Taehyung before popping into frame. “I’m glad I caught you guys. I invited the others to have dinner with me and Joonie and I’d love for you to join us.”
“He has a suitor.”
“What?” Seokjin and Jimin react in unison.
“You know, a lover or friend with benefits, or something.”
“Ooooh,” Jimin half giggles out. “Well invite them too, why not.”
“No, I don’t think-“
“Oh, too busy gettin busy?” Taehyung teases.
Seokjin can feel his ears and neck flushing bright red. “Fine. Dinner. Got it. Now leave me alone.”
They tease and poke but more or less let Seokjin close the door without fuss. He breathes a sigh of relief, locking the door behind him.
Seokjin stops in his tracks when he sees that Jungkook is completely passed out on the bed. He doesn’t look like a killer and by his own accounts, it seems he’s not really. Well… not anymore at least.
He lets Jungkook rest, covers him with a blanket that Jungkook immediately sticks both feet out of the end. Quietly he starts packing his bags.
…..
By the time Jungkook stirs, Seokjin has already packed almost all of his belongings for when they leave tomorrow and preemptively redone his makeup for the shoot that they plan to do after dinner. He’s coordinated with Yoongi via text which luckily has not included any inquiry to his love life. However, he never managed to talk himself out of the dinner invitation.
The gentle snuffling noise is what makes Seokjin look up from his email.
“Good morning, sunshine.”
“It’ss morning?”
“It’s an expression. How did you sleep?”
Jungkook hums.
“Are you hungry?”
His eyes light up when he looks at Seokjin. “Yes.”
“Okay, let’s see if we can get you looking a little less fishy before I take you with me.”
They go about removing any scales above the neckline and using a little concealer for the blue tinge to certain parts of Jungkook’s skin. When Seokjin is done, he not only looks human, but incredibly handsome.
“You’ll have to wear shoes.”
Jungkook grumbles but eventually Seokjin is able to get him into an extra pair of slides he brought with him.
Namjoon answers the door, big dimpled smile on display, telling them they’re the last to arrive but that food is almost ready.
“It smells good,” Jungkook tells him, stars in his eyes.
Namjoon laughs. “Thank you. I didn’t have any part in it except cutting a few vegetables and opening the wine, so it will be safe to eat.”
They follow him into the dining room where Taehyung is busy setting the table. “Hoba and Yoongi-ssi offered to step in and help when Jimin suggested dinner.”
“Well thank you for inviting us.”
“No problem-“
“Woah,” Taehyung interjects. “Who are you?”
Jungkook stiffens a little beside Seokjin. Seokjin takes a hand and holds it, fingers wrapped in webbing.
“Jungkook.”
“How do you know Hyung?”
“What’s with the interrogation?” Seokjin interjects.
“It’s mine and Yoongi-hyung’s duty to look after you.”
“What? I’m the hyung here.”
“He was lost. We found each other.”
Taehyung’s eyes get glittery, the sentimental fool. “Wow. That’s so beautiful. Come sit next to me.”
Taehyung grabs Jungkook’s hand and leads him to the end of the table.
“Who wants wine?” Namjoon asks.
Yoongi comes through a door then, with a large pot of something that smells delicious. “Joon-ah, the others need you.”
“Strong arms,” Namjoon says to the table, flexing ridiculously.
Yoongi settles next to Taehyung after placing the stew on the table. He looks at Jungkook and then at Seokjin and then back. “Hello.”
“Hello.”
“I’m Min Yoongi. Everyone else is calling me hyung, so you might as well.”
“I’m Jungkook.”
Yoongi nods. The other three come into the room, boisterous and laden with dishes that get spread around the table. It’s quite the feast.
Seokjin hears a little wow from Jungkook.
“Dig in,” Jimin announces cheerfully.
There’s barely contained chaos as things are passed around, arms reaching around each other, grabby hands and laughter. Seokjin helps Jungkook get the idea, though he quickly seems to be grasping how to do what humans do.
“How rude of me, I wasn’t actually sure Seokjin would be bringing his guest,” Jimin says to Jungkook. “I would have greeted you sooner.”
When Jungkook looks up from where he had already begun to inhale the bossam in front of him, Jimin’s face twitches. He looks to Hoseok, still ladling stew into Taehyung’s bowl.
Hoseok must sense a shift because he looks at Jimin and then quickly looks to their end of the table.
To anyone else, he may just look passively surprised that a stranger has joined them. But Seokjin has known him his entire life. No amount of cautious safeguarding emotions can keep him from seeing how startled Hoseok really is.
“I didn’t catch your name,” Hoseok says sweetly, his most winning smile in place.
“Jungkook.”
“Jungkook, nice to officially meet you.”
“And your name?”
“Hoseok.”
“Nice to officially meet you.”
The smile on Hoseok’s face becomes a little more real but Seokjin isn’t any less on edge.
They return to eating, little pockets of conversation here and there, until Jimin nudges Namjoon. “You should tell Jungkook what you do for a living.”
“What? Why me?”
Jimin gives him a look and Namjoon rolls his eyes.
“Fine. I’m a historian and a librarian.”
“Yeah but tell him what you specialize in. Why the others are here.”
“Jimin,” Hoseok says as warning.
Jimin smiles angelically.
“I’ve been researching local history and specifically the superstitions and legends of the area.”
“We’re doing a piece on the siren,” Taehyung tells Jungkook.
“A piece?”
“Seokjin-hyung is a reporter,” Taehyung says proudly.
Seokjin isn’t sure if Jungkook knows what that is. “What do you know about the siren?” He asks pretty casually, considering Seokjin is sweating buckets.
“Just a lot of old journals and oral tradition mostly,” Namjoon says around a mouthful. “And of course the origins of similar lore around the world.”
“Similar lore.”
“Mmhmm. Most people think they’re Greek in origin, the, like, idea they have in their heads of what sirens are. But the Greek version was tales of half bird people, not half fish. Somewhere along the way they got mixed in with mermaids and other mythology.”
“Half birds. That’s true,” Jungkook says. “How else would anyone learn to sing?”
It certainly gets a reaction around the table, some laughing, some, like Namjoon, considering the philosophical connotations. And then there’s Seokjin, lost for words.
“Do you take an interest in sirens, Jungkook-ssi?” Jimin asks.
“Only one, Jimin-ssi.”
“The local one, right?” Taehyung asks, though that seems fairly obvious.
“Mmm,” Jungkook hums, shaking his head. “The one they were meant to be with.”
“What do you mean,” Namjoon asks, his plate practically forgotten.
“There is a story. That the brothers told him for so long. That he was destined to find his matching star piece. That they would claim the sea and the sky.” Jungkook side-eyes Seokjin before refocusing on Namjoon.
“I think I’ve heard of a myth similar to that,” Namjoon says. “An old Indo-Korean one, if I remember correctly. The twin fishes.”
“I don’t think it’s true though. Only one siren in the lake.”
“So you believe in the siren, Jungkook-ssi?”
The table has gone mostly quiet.
“Ah!” Seokjin stands up abruptly. “We have to be going now! Dinner was delicious, thank you.”
He grabs Jungkook’s hand and pulls him up from the table and quickly towards the front door.
Unfortunately, Hoseok follows them out.
“It’s him, then?” It’s accusatory. “You brought him into the town?”
“I don’t know wha-“
“Don’t lie to me.”
It hangs heavy in the air.
“I guess you believe now?” Hoseok asks. “Or I guess I should say again.”
“It’s been nice seeing you, Hoseok. Maybe we’ll do this again in another couple decades.”
Jungkook keeps pace with him. Seokjin leads them back to the hanok on autopilot more than anything. When they’re back in the room, he explodes.
“How did they know? How did they know you’re the siren?”
Jungkook sits on the edge of the bedding watching him.
“Humans are strange.” It takes the wind out of Seokjin’s sails. “Big emotions, but you never seem to know what to do with them. Worse at words than me,” he says a little condescending.
“Yah! What do you know about human interaction? All you do is swim in circles by yourself all day!”
Seokjin only realizes how sharp of a barb it is when Jungkook’s eyes reflect nothing but hurt.
“I want to go home.”
“You and me both.”
“Will you forget me again?”
Seokjin stares at him. “What?”
“I remembered you eventually, and you remembered me. But you pretend not to know. Will you forget again?”
“The magpie.”
Jungkook hums.
Seokjin doesn’t want to think about it. He doesn’t want to remember.
“That was the worst night of my life.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t speak to you. I don’t like to scare little ones.”
Seokjin laughs, though not with much humor. “I wasn’t that little.”
“You were already so scared, but magpies are friends. Birds are easy to follow.”
Red and blue
Purple
Yellow and green
Like a bruise
Tender
Scarring
Throat tight with tears he can’t quite shed
You’re safe
You’re safe
He has never felt less safe
Blue-black
Night sky teal
You’re not alone
You’re not alone
You’re not alone
“You’re not real.”
“What?”
“It’s not real. You’re not real.” He doesn’t quite mean it but he doesn’t not mean it either. His heart rate is through the roof. He clutches his chest. “Unlucky things… must be the siren.”
Jungkook’s brow furrows. That’s not what he meant to say either but everything is really blurring together.
“Humans! Your words do nothing good, your hands do worse. You show me hope and then you take it far away.”
Jungkook pushes himself up and heads for the door.
“Jungkook, wait.”
He doesn’t wait. Seokjin watches him wrench the door open and as soon as he steps outside, Jungkook disappears. Clothes fall to the ground and a big beautiful magpie takes to the air.
Seokjin is left dumbfounded.
Without anything else to do, he collects his clothes from the ground. He takes them back into the room, folds them neatly, planning to pack them away, but he can’t bring himself to.
A handful of glittering scales sit piled on the dresser.
Fuck it.
He flings the door open, startling Jimin on the other side which in turn startles him.
“Hyung-“
“Not now, Jimin.”
“I’m sorry. I should have kept my mouth shut.”
Jimin is unfortunately following him.
“How do you and Hoseok even know?”
“We take offerings to the statue. We got curious once.”
It only has his footsteps faltering for a moment. “Why do you take offerings?”
“My ancestors have always taken them. Part of the agreement Lim Jihye-ssi brokered with him.” Now that does have him stopping briefly. He wonders how much Jimin has been keeping from Namjoon. “But he’s not supposed to leave the area.”
Seokjin practically growls in frustration. “That was so long ago! Clearly he’s fine!”
“I’m not sure how we were supposed to know that, hyung,” Jimin says with a bit of an attitude.
“Tell my cousin he’s dead to me for all this secret keeping.”
“He loves you too,” Jimin says, and Seokjin knows it’s sincere. It tampers the heat and he nods to Jimin. Hopes it communicates the complicated relationship he and Hoseok have fallen into, one irritatingly still filled with love. A love filled with too many mistakes, but Seokjin thinks that might be the only kind he’s fully capable of.
Seokjin passes a couple of guys on the street heading to the park, funny vests and chunky tech goggles pushed up into their hair. He overhears them complaining about how they knew V must have doctored that video, no siren to be found. Seokjin could almost laugh for how absurd it is now knowing what little threat these guys are. Just a couple of nerds, but he’d been so worried. He doesn’t think he regrets it.
Or at least he hopes he won’t in the end.
…..
“Jungkook!”
Is everything in life cyclical? Is he going in circles over and over again?
“Jungkook, I know you’re here! Come out…please.”
The last part is so quiet.
Water bubbles to his left and he could cry from relief. Jungkook just barely peeks over the water's edge. He’s as far away as Seokjin has ever seen him.
“I’m sorry.” Nothing. “I’m just as bad at words as any human, maybe even worse. But I hope you can tell I mean it, I’m sorry.”
“Why are you here, hyung?”
“I brought…” he looks down at the bundle of clothes in his hands. A gift far too inadequate. “I wanted you to keep these.”
Jungkook considers his words. “They won’t smell right. They won’t smell like you. It will be like all the others.”
“Then… then I guess I’ll have to keep coming back.”
“What?”
“I’ll keep coming back,” he says more suredly. “I’ll come back to visit you. I’ll bring you more clothes too.”
“No one comes back.”
“But I will,” he promises.
“Why?”
Because he’s never going to be able to forget Jungkook again. Because he’s equal parts fascinated and scared to death but not because of the sharp teeth or the scary stories, but because…
Because he might have feelings for Jungkook.
And what a terrifying thought.
“Because I’ll miss you.”
“You’ll miss me?”
“Yeah.”
“You’ll come back?”
“Yeah, I’ll come back.” And maybe he can talk to Jimin about adjusting whatever that agreement is. He imagines Jungkook coming to stay with him, if he wanted. Finally not feeling so lonely.
Jungkook comes a little closer, and Seokjin can see how his hair still holds the shape of blue-black feathers, little clusters of down edging into his face. He looks like the handsome character from a movie he used to watch with Hoseok when he first moved in with his cousin and aunt after his mom passed.
A home that never stayed put. It sounded like a dream. More magical than witches and wizards. More realistic than fate bringing two people together like that, an unlucky girl finding everything she’d ever hoped for. More realistic than someone being so afraid to be happy and loved.
But maybe he had wished anyway.
“Will you swim with me?”
Seokjin doesn’t answer but he ends up stripping down to his boxers. He wades out into the lake, the water almost achingly cold.
But Jungkook meets him in the middle, Seokjin can feel his tail wrap around him, taking on his weight.
“I will miss you.”
“But I’ll be back.”
“I will miss you anyway.”
“I’ll miss you too.” He feels it’s more true than he would like to admit.
“I had hoped it was you.”
“What was me?” Seokjin’s teeth are starting to chatter.
“My missing star piece.”
It’s achingly sweet. Seokjin wishes he was the type of man to be anyone’s missing star piece.
“People that find you are meant to.”
Jungkook smiles.
Heat rushes through Seokjin’s veins.
He feels buoyant. More alive than he ever has before. He feels like they’ve soaked up all the light from the sky and are glowing with it when he presses his blue tinted lips to Jungkook’s.
There’s a shift.
In the stars. In the universe.
In Seokjin.
Trauma will always cling to him like a wet shirt, but maybe one less fear is a start.
He feels water rush over their heads.
He feels at home in a place he’s been running from for so long.
He sloughs off, at least for the moment, the man that had begrudgingly returned to a place with so much darkness and pain. He sloughs off as much baggage as he can, letting this feeling carry him away.
He sloughs off everything, his very being.
Where the last dying rays of daylight catch the water, if one were to look, two large fish, glittering opalescent scales just under the water cresting, circle each other as if caught in each other’s orbit.