Chapter Text
The shores of Jeju looked just as Jimin had imagined them, fields of green grass and yellow and red flowers spreading far around lush forestry. He recognized these woods even though he’d never seen them through the eyes of the sea before, every tree familiar to him even now. The island was peaceful as ever, not a sign of unrest to disturb the beautiful image of serenity it made.
It was a sight Jimin had wanted to see ever since his departure so many months ago, although for vastly different reasons now. He stood in the crow’s nest, one hand wired into the rigs of the Agust as he leaned out over the edge to get as good of a look of the island as he could. His lips were curled into a wide smile, excitement brimming in his chest as he peered at what had once been his home.
I will see you soon, Jihyun, he sang inwardly, exuberant at the mere thought. You as well, mother.
“You had better come back to me, Chim.”
With a bright giggle, Jimin pulled himself upright and turned to look at his friend where he sat by the mast, lips pursed into a tight pout. “Don’t sulk, Tae,” he said and playfully tousled the quartermaster’s hair, nimbly dodging the irked swat Taehyung aimed at his shoulder. “I know you miss your sailor boy, but he will return soon. Just like I will.”
“Soon?” If possible, the quartermaster’s frown deepened still and he reached up to rub at the scars of his left eye. “I hope your soon is sooner than Jeongguk’s,” he said sullenly. “I would die if you left me for so long, too.”
Three long months had passed since they had returned the Rune of the Storm to the Blessed Oracles, where Jeongguk had decided to stay and learn control of his own blessing. It had been a tearful affair, with Taehyung sobbing uncontrollably and refusing to let his lover go when the time came to part ways. The sailing master had hardly been any better, returning Taehyung’s embrace every bit as fiercely, as if he would never let him go.
Not even the presence of the six-legged tiger, Vahana, had been able to console the quartermaster then. It had taken Yoongi and Hoseok to pry the two apart while Jin had extended his most sincere apologies to the temple priestess, who had followed the affair with rising disbelief.
While all of this had happened at the foot of the temple, Jimin had been speaking with the Blessed Oracles, bowing his head as he handed the Rune of the Storm back to the High Oracle. He’d helped the old man tie it around his neck and consoled him when he cried, reduced to tears upon seeing the state of Jimin’s body.
“Forgive me, precious canary,” the High Oracle had said and taken Jimin’s hands in his own. “Forgive this old man for foolishly giving you a curse to bear.”
Smiling, Jimin had shaken his head and kneeled before the oracle. “There is nothing for me to forgive,” he had told him. “Curse or no, this rune heeded my call and saved all of us. Without it, my friends would have died alongside me, and the Rabid Conflagration would be free to claim the east for himself.” He had squeezed the old man’s hands firmly in his own. “To me, the Rune of the Storm was a blessing as pure as any other.”
The youngest of the oracles, Om, who bore the Blessing of Healing, had offered to expunge his scars and take away the tremors of his hands, claiming it fair since the rune that had caused Jimin his wounds had come from them. Jimin had thanked him but refused, smiling as he said he treasured his ailments as if they were his old friends now.
The oracle had looked at him as if he was mad, and Jimin had only laughed and bid them farewell.
While the rest of him had steadily been regaining its former strength, his hands still quivered now, although the tremors had become more sporadic. They seemed to come always when least convenient; thus far, they had turned archery into an impossible passtime. Only a few days prior, they had caused Jimin to miss his mark by quite a bit, so much so he had nearly impaled Xiao where he’d stood by the mizzen mast.
“Save yer Cupid’s arrow fer the cap’n, pretty bird,” the carpenter had boomed as soon as Jimin had come to apologize. “He’ll have me head if he finds out ya pricked someone else with it.”
While Jimin had flushed red in embarrassment, the rest of the crew had laughed, even Taehyung. The sight had brought a smile to Jimin’s lips; the quartermaster had been dejected in Jeongguk’s absence, following Jimin wherever he went and seeking contact more than ever before. Eager to soothe his distress, Jimin had complied easily and spent countless nights down in the bunks rather than the captain’s quarters.
Yoongi had been less than content with that, grumbling every time Taehyung stole Jimin away from him. “I might as well be the one who lost my love,” he had said petulantly one morning before sunrise when Jimin had managed to escape the prison of the quartermaster’s embrace with a promise to return with breakfast. “I want to have you in my arms again, songbird.”
He had promptly ceased his whining when Jimin had kissed him oh so sweetly, after which the captain had pulled him between the sheets of their bed and kept him there until the sun stood high.
“You’re being dramatic, Taehyung,” Jimin said now and took the quartermaster’s hands to coax him into standing. “I’ve told you, I’m only going to see an old friend. I will be back before nightfall.”
“What if you change your mind when you see your friend?” Taehyung insisted. “What if you would rather stay?”
“Impossible,” Jimin said immediately, huffing for good measure. “The Agust is my home. I could never leave it, even for my birthplace.”
It had been Yoongi’s idea. When Jimin had mentioned how he missed Jihyun, his old friend from his hometown, the captain had offhandedly told him they could sail to the island of Jeju if he so wished. Awestruck by the sudden offer, Jimin had stared at his beloved for so long Yoongi had began to fret, before Jimin had thrown his arms around him and kissed him until he couldn’t breathe.
And so here they were, sailing towards the shores of what had once been Jimin’s home. He had grown more excited for every passing day, and now that he could see the island, it was all he could do to not call on his blessing and attempt to fly. He knew it wouldn’t end well; the damage caused by the bolt of lightning had yet to heal, his lost feathers still growing.
“Jimin!” Jimin looked down to the deck, where Hoseok was waving up at him. “We’ve almost reached the shallows,” the doctor called and motioned towards the island. “You’d best prepare to take off!”
With a smile and a quick wave, Jimin turned and pulled Taehyung into a bone-crushing embrace before making his way down the rungs of the main mast. It had taken him months to regain the strength and dexterity required to forego the shrouds, his muscles slow in the wake of the storm’s strike. He climbed the mast easily enough now, but he still clutched the rungs too hard whenever his hands trembled, more often than not causing blisters to break the skin of his palms.
“Can you help me ready the dinghy, Xiao?” he asked when his feet touched the deck, reaching up to pat the carpenter’s shoulder in passing. “You too, Hisashi.”
“We’ll do it fer ya, pretty bird,” Xiao said before Hisashi could even begin to speak, waving a great hand in the air as if to deflect the thought of Jimin doing any of the work. “‘S a big day fer ya, so leave the heavy liftin’ ta us. Don’t ya worry ‘bout it.”
Hisashi rolled his eyes and muttered something incoherent under his breath but complied all the same, allowing himself to be dragged away by the over-excited carpenter. “Thank you,” Jimin called after them and giggled at the sound of Xiao’s booming laughter. He was giddy with excitement now, a spring in his step as he walked over to the forecastle to look at the island again.
They were a few miles west of the village of Jeju, having opted to drop anchor there rather than closer to the harbor after Jimin had pointed out that seeing the Agust again would likely frighten the villagers within an inch of their lives. It would take him a few hours to reach the village on foot, but he was more than happy with the opportunity to walk the same trails he had walked so many times before.
From the forecastle, Jimin could see the forests he had spent most of his life in, full of the life of late summer. The sight of them made him smile so widely his cheeks ached. He wondered if he would have the time enough to stray into the woods; he wanted to see if the bulbuls he loved so much were still there, in their old nest.
“You look like you’re about to fly off even without your wings.”
With a bright laughter, Jimin turned to Yoongi, who had come up to stand next to him. “I might,” he said and swept his hand along the shoreline. “I’m so happy to be here again.” He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his beloved’s cheek. “Thank you for bringing me here, Yoongi.”
The captain only hummed in reply, a trace of uncertainty to his smile. In his exuberance, Jimin didn’t notice his stiffness until Xiao called him over to board the dinghy and make way for land; before he could do more than move away from the rail, Yoongi took his hand and held him back. “Wait,” he said, something sheepish flickering over his face.
“What’s wrong?” Jimin asked, surprised by the captain’s sudden nervousness. Yoongi’s lips parted and closed again without a single noise passing, his jaw moving with unspoken words until Jimin took a step closer to him and raised his free hand to stroke his chin. “Yoon-”
“You will come back to us, right, songbird?”
Yoongi spoke the words quickly and refused to meet Jimin’s eyes, as if his own question embarrassed him. It likely did. After all, the captain had been the one to suggest their visit in the first place, yet now that they were here, he seemed to worry Jimin would choose to stay on Jeju than return to the ship.
After overcoming his initial surprise, Jimin smiled, endearment blossoming in his chest. “First Taehyung and now you,” he said with a sigh and gently coaxed Yoongi into letting go of his hand so he could cup the captain’s cheeks and make him meet his eyes. “I couldn’t stay on this island even if I wanted to. The sea would call me back, and all of you with it.” He pulled his beloved into a kiss, soft and sweet, and reveled in the way Yoongi’s tension slipped away. “I am yours, Yoongi,” Jimin murmured against his lips. “No matter where I go, I will always come back to you.”
The captain nodded blindly, momentarily winded from the chaste kiss. It took an airy giggle from Jimin to bring him back to the present, his eyes rising quickly from Jimin’s lips to his eyes before he sighed, exasperated with himself. “Mine,” he finally said and pulled Jimin against him, smiling against the scars of his neck, “as I am yours.”
Yoongi held him until Xiao’s voice rose again, this time accompanied by an impatient bark from Hisashi. The captain huffed in feigned annoyance and let him go, although not before kissing him one more time. “I’ll be back before nightfall,” Jimin promised as he climbed into the dinghy. Jin handed him a little sack of bread, dried meat and fruits over the rail in case he would grow hungry while he was away, and then they lowered his rowboat into the sea.
The sea was thankfully still that morning, so rowing was easy enough, even with the crew making him laugh almost all the way to shore by shouting the most ridiculous things at him from the deck of the Agust. Xiao had him cackling so violently he almost tipped the little dinghy when he began to belt out a horrid version of an old song of love between a fair maiden and a young sailor.
Their jests ended when Hoseok said it’s likely Yoongi wrote that song for his fair Jimin and Yoongi pushed the doctor over the rail and into the sea.
When he reached the shore, Jimin made sure to drag the dinghy as far up on the beach as he could and tied the ropes around a large boulder closeby. He stood in the sand for a moment, smiling as he looked at the Agust where it floated peacefully on the sea. Uncaring whether or not the crew could still see him, he raised his hand high over his head and waved, smiling bright as ever before he turned on the heel and made way for the forest.
“A shortcut,” he said to himself as he walked even though he knew it would take him longer to reach the village if he strayed from his path. He couldn’t help himself, however; seeing the life of the forest meant as much to him as seeing his old friend.
He sang in the voice of the Canary as he walked, crooning softly to the trees and all the life in them. His sandals swung from his hand, having untied them to feel the cool earth under his toes, his steps easy and familiar over logs and thick roots. The birds of the woods replied to his song in kind, delighted trills echoing from the trees as if they were every bit as happy to see him as he was to see them.
He found his way easily to the bulbuls’ tree and smiled when he found their nest empty. It was a good thing; it meant the babes had grown old enough to leave their mother and brave the world on their own. “I’m glad,” Jimin murmured and walked away, a strange sense of pride brimming in his chest.
When he reached the edge of the forest, he found the village of Jeju just the same as it always had been. The harbor had been built anew, the roof of the temple restored after it had been destroyed that night, so many months ago. The houses looked the same, rebuilt with the same colors and shapes. Truly, it looked like the village had never had an encounter with pirates.
Even from where he stood, Jimin could see life in the small town, its inhabitants moving back and forth between the houses. Part of him was happy to see such a peaceful sight, while the other part recalled what had earned the village their peace.
The scars on his shoulder and neck prickled, but Jimin merely shook his head and reminded himself why he had come before making his way down the small, grassy hill.
As he crossed the outskirts of the village, he wondered if its people would even remember who he was. It had been seven months since he’d last walked these streets, and even before he’d left, none of them had ever really known him, always apprehensive in his presence. Their limited knowledge on blessings had made them wary of him after he had found his own, thus it would hardly surprise him if they had forgotten who he was in his absence.
As soon as he stepped out from the alley and onto the main street, however, he realized the improbability of his musings. Jeju was a small village, after all, where nothing of interest ever seemed to happen, so when Jimin walked into their midst, the lot of them needed only the smallest glimpse of his rose hair to know just who he was.
It was incredible, really, how the entire street seemed to come to a complete standstill around him. One after the other, the villagers fell silent, their eyes growing alarmingly wide as they stared, as if they couldn’t quite believe what they were seeing. No one said a word, not even to whisper amongst one another.
Truly, it was as if they had all seen a ghost.
Whilst they gawked, Jimin smiled ever so brightly, amusement simmering in his chest. He fought the urge to laugh and looked around, recalling their names easily enough, until he spotted a young woman he knew as Jo Sunja. He had never been close with her, but he had admired her as a child for her spirit even in the face of those who would be the village’s hunters.
Ignoring the rest of their stares, Jimin walked up to her, curling his shoulders inwards slightly as a subtle sign of pliance, so as to not frighten her out of her daze. “Good afternoon, Sunja,” he said and inclined his head in a polite bow, one she mirrored slowly, eyes wide and bulging. “Tell me, does Jihyun still live in her old house? Near the eastern edge of town?”
“Oh,” she uttered, her gaze flittering from his face to his neck, where it lingered on the purplish scars before she nodded. “Yes, she… she does. In the same house.” She swallowed and lowered her voice into a whisper, hesitating only for a moment she said, “She has missed you, Jimin.”
Perhaps it was only his imagination, the apologetic undertone to her voice, but Jimin beamed at her all the same, glee brimming within him as he thanked her. Again, Sunja followed his lead and bowed only after he had, still too shocked to do much else but stare. Jimin didn’t mind, however, and turned to make his way to the easternmost part of the village.
He paid no heed to the rest of the villagers, who quickly scurried out of his way to let him pass. The lot of them stared after him, either at his face or the marks spreading across the top of his bare back, but even when the first disgruntled whisper fell from the onlookers, Jimin felt nothing but pride in his scars. He squared his shoulders as he walked, much in the same way he had seen Yoongi do so many times, and the smile stayed firm on his lips.
Only when he had almost reached the end of the main street did someone address him again, calling his name in a voice laden with shock. Jimin turned to his left, only to come to a complete halt in the middle of a step at the sight of the young hunter he had despised with a passion for as long as he could remember.
Hong Minjoon looked the same as he always had where he stood outside the town hall, flanked by his old friends. His surprise was by far the most blatant, utterly stunned as he stared at Jimin as if he couldn’t believe his own eyes. “Is that really you?” he asked slowly, the faintest touch of dread to his words. “Canary?”
The byname broke Jimin out of his daze, but for several long seconds, he did not move. All he did was look at the man who had spent the better half of a year making unsubtle advances on him only to cast him out for the sake of saving his own skin as soon as it had been convenient. Jimin expected to feel a flare of hatred or rage rise within him at the mere sight of the hunter, but the longer he looked, the calmer he became.
He doesn’t matter, Jimin thought. He means nothing to me now.
He considered simply ignoring Minjoon and resuming his walk, but there was one thing he dearly wished to do first. Something he had wanted to do for long before the hunter had thrown him away as tribute.
The smile returned to Jimin’s lips and he stepped up to Minjoon, who only stared, having not quite managed to shake his dumbstruck state. “Hello, Minjoon,” Jimin said much too sweetly, but the hunter didn’t notice his obvious intention. “How’s your foot?”
Before Minjoon could even begin to form an answer, Jimin drew his arm back, and, with as much strength as he could master, he punched the hunter in the jaw.
A chorus of gasps rose from all around them, loud enough to drown the startled exclaim that fell from Jimin’s lips upon the impact. A dull ache flared across his knuckles, the skin reddening, but the pain was overcome by the rush of satisfaction within him as he watched Minjoon’s friends scramble to catch him from falling, pulling him upright before he could hit the ground.
If possible, the hunter’s shock intensified even further, as did the subtle dread in him, seeping steadily into his expression as he clutched his chin and stared up at Jimin. “J-Jimi-”
“No,” Jimin interrupted, still smiling. “I think that’s all that needs to be said.”
Without another word, he turned on the heel and walked away, ignoring the others as he made his way to the house of his old friend. He curled his fingers as he walked, sighing at the thought of the bruises his skin would show by the time he returned to the Agust. At least this should make Taehyung laugh, he thought with a snort.
The first flicker of nervousness came to him when he drew close to where he knew he would find his friend. A hundred thoughts crossed his mind then, fretting how the old woman would react to the sight of him. He had missed her terribly, but he realized now what his friendship might’ve caused Jihyun, particularly with the way she had attempted to defend him when Minjoon had cast him out. She had always been prickly, but she could’ve grown to resent Jimin for causing her to be shunned by the rest of the village.
When he finally reached the two small houses at the edge of town, he found his friend sitting on the porch of her home, her back to him as she bent over a little desk. She was writing, he realized, a piece of paper smoothed out over the wooden surface, and in her hand she held one of the quills Jimin had made for her so many months ago, on the eve before his departure.
The sight made Jimin’s eyes sting with tears, his voice wavering as he spoke her name.
“Jihyun.”
She looked up, frowning at the interruption of her writing, only to promptly drop the quill from her hand as soon as her eyes found him. Like all the others, she gaped at him, but unlike the rest, she leapt to her feet with surprising agility for a woman of her age and pointed at him with a wrinkly finger, her entire hand quivering. She didn’t seem to notice the desk she had knocked over in her hurry to stand, nor the ink that was spilling over the steps of her porch.
While she struggled to voice even a single sound, Jimin walked closer, a small smile on his lips as he came to stand before his friend. “I’ve come to see you, Jihyun,” he said carefully, his hands clasped tightly behind his back to keep from wringing them in his tension.
For a long moment, all she did was stare at him, her gaze never straying from his. Her hand hovered over his chest, trembling still, until she slowly raised it to his face, ever so gentle in her touch as she brushed her fingers against the skin of his cheek. “Little bird,” she finally said, her voice a mere whisper. “Am I dreaming, or is it really you?”
A teary giggle spilled from Jimin’s lips before he could stop it, his smile growing wide with joy. “You’re not dreaming, Jihyun,” he said and reached up to place a hand on top of hers. “It’s me.”
The old woman burst into tears much in the same fashion of a broken dam, bordering on hysterical as she pulled him into her arms with enough strength to suffocate him. “Jimin,” she cried into his neck, “I can’t believe you’re here, after all this time! I can’t believe you’re alive, I thought- I thought you were-”
Whatever it was she had thought, she didn’t seem to want to say it. Instead, she pushed him back and held him at arm’s length, blinking furiously against her tears to get a proper look at him. “Where have you been?” she asked, finally noticing his scars. “What did those pirates do to you? Where did they take you? What have you done, all this time?”
Jimin didn’t know where to begin or which question to answer first, so he blurted out the first thing that came to his mind. “I punched Minjoon in the jaw.”
His words drew a breathless laughter from his friend and she pulled him back into her embrace, one he returned readily this time. As he held her, he noticed how thin she had become, but she spoke before he could begin to worry. “Good on you, little bird,” she said thickly and clapped him on the back. “You wouldn’t believe how obnoxious that youngling has been ever since you left. He struts around like some wounded hero of war and preaches to all who will hear how he saved this village from pirates.”
“He hasn’t learned anything, then,” Jimin said with a roll of his eyes.
“No,” Jihyun scoffed, “but hopefully he will this time.” She eased out of his arms and took his face in her hands, frowning as she studied his face. “Are you alright, little bird? Truly?”
Jimin smiled, as brightly as he knew how. “I am,” he said and nodded as best he could in her grip. “I’m better than I have ever been.”
The worried crease of her brow didn’t ease in the slightest, but she huffed and let him go all the same. “You must tell me what has happened since you were taken,” she said. “I want to hear every last detail, do you understand?” She waited for him to nod before turning away, sighing as she looked at the little desk she had knocked over. “Oh, I hope it’s not ruined.”
She sank into a crouch and picked the piece of paper from the ground, careful as she brushed the dirt from it. “I’ve been writing letters for you, little bird,” she said and folded the note. “Ever since that night. I wanted to send them to you, but I didn’t know how or where you were, so…” She glanced towards her house and hesitated for a moment. “Wait here.”
As quickly as she could, Jihyun disappeared into her home and left Jimin standing on the porch, confused yet overcome with fondness all at once. The thought that his friend had written letters for him in his absence filled him with such joy, he didn’t know what to do with it all. Giggling quietly to himself, he turned on the heel, spinning aimlessly on the spot in a meek attempt at releasing some of his exuberance.
When Jihyun returned, she was carrying a small stack of sealed envelopes, neatly tied together by string the same color as Jimin’s hair. “Here,” she said and deftly pushed the letter she’d been writing into the stack. “If you one day wake up and want to read my endless rambling and worrying.”
Jimin took the letters from her with both hands, holding them reverently. There were at least twenty envelopes in the stack, each with his name written on it, and if Jimin hadn’t cried before, he certainly did now. “I’ll read all of them,” he promised as he tucked them securely into the satchel Jin had given him, rubbing tears from his eyes when he looked up again, beaming. “I’ve missed you so much, Jihyun.”
His friend waved a hand as if to bat his words away, her eyes turning glossy once again. “You stop that,” she said snappishly. “It’s not good for an old lady like me to cry like this.” She heaved a dramatic sigh when he laughed and took his arm, sniffling. “Now. Let us visit your mother, and then you will tell me everything.”
The grave stood where it always had, surrounded by tall grass and flowers. Jihyun had tended to it beautifully, the stone tomb clean with a crown of wild lilies resting at its base. She had lit incense early in the morning and left it burning on a small stand atop the grave, the faint scent of ginger and herbs lingering in the summer air.
Jimin went to his knees before the grave and bowed once, touching his brow to the ground at its base before reaching out to stroke the smooth rock of the tomb, smiling. “Hello, mother,” he said, his fingers brushing over the name he himself had engraved in its surface many years ago. “I’m sorry I’ve been away for so long. You must’ve been lonely, but I see Jihyun has taken good care of you.”
“Of course I have,” the old woman said with a scoff, grunting as she sat down in the grass next to him. “You told me to.”
“Thank you,” Jimin said and took her hand in his without looking away from the grave. “It means the world to me.”
Jihyun hummed in reply, allowing him all the time he needed to find peace in the presence of his mother. It was odd; throughout his life, Jimin had made a habit of telling his mother everything, both before and after her death, yet now, after so long, his words seemed to elude him, catching in his throat and taking the form of fresh tears in his eyes every time he tried to voice them.
There was so much he wanted to say, but for the moment, he needed silence more than words.
When he finally did find his voice again, his words flowed without pause. He told Jihyun about everything he had seen and learned ever since his departure, about Son Jukan and his flawed justice, about Shanghai and the Four Cardinals. He told her about the Blessed Oracles and the trust they had placed in him and about the Rabid Conflagration, how Jimin had been chosen to stop the fire that would’ve consumed this world.
He had spoken for long over an hour when he stopped to gather his thoughts, and he was silent for so long, Jihyun must’ve believed he was done speaking. “What will you do now?” she asked, her voice still bearing the shock of hearing what he had done to bring down Son Oseong.
“Oh, I will return to the ship tonight,” Jimin said without a second’s thought, only realizing how odd it must’ve sounded when he noticed the apprehension crossing his friend’s face. With a sheepish smile, he squeezed her hand in his, and then he told her of the Agust and its crew, the ones who had given him a home, the people whom he had grown to think of as family.
The only thing he left out was Yoongi. He couldn’t quite say why he hesitated; perhaps it was the worry of being judged by his friend for whom he loved, or to see his friend struck with fear upon hearing the captain’s name. Jimin wanted to tell her and he promised himself that he would, but he would gather his courage first, so he could say it proudly.
What would you think, he mused inwardly and looked at his mother’s grave, if you knew your son had become a pirate? He couldn’t help but smile at the thought, imagining his mother scolding him for it first, speaking of all the horrors the world related to the name of piracy, before praising him for choosing his own course of life.
“Jimin?”
Startled, he turned quickly where he sat, having momentarily forgotten Jihyun’s presence. “Yes?” he said, his smile faltering slightly at the sight of her frown. “What’s wrong?”
“I asked when you would return here again,” she said, concern obvious in her voice. “Did you not hear me?”
“Oh.” Jimin’s lips curled into a sheepish smile. “I’m sorry, Jihyun,” he said carefully, “you have to raise your voice a little if you stand to my right. It’s my ear.” He raised a hand to tug at his earlobe as he spoke, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the scars left behind by lightning before he lowered it again. “My right ear doesn’t work anymore,” he said. “I can’t hear anything.”
Her eyes widened in shock, her lips parting in silence as if she didn’t know what to say. For a moment, she only looked at him, sorrow rising to her expression as she placed a hand to his cheek, ever so gently. “For how long?” she asked, her voice suddenly hoarse.
“Ever since I was struck by the storm,” Jimin said and leaned against her touch. “When I woke up again, my hearing was just… gone. Everything sounded so dull from my right side, and as time passed, I realized it would not come back.” He reached up and took her hand in both of his. “It’s alright, Jihyun,” he said gently. “Don’t let it make you sad. I’ve come to terms with it, so it’s alright.”
The smile on his lips was bright as ever, made stronger still as he recalled the moment when he’d first realized it. It had been a heavy truth to come to terms with, but he had stood amongst his family when it happened, his hand in Yoongi’s as they’d walked along the shipyard and looked at the Agust, only half finished yet already resembling the beautiful vessel it was shaped after.
He hadn’t told the crew. At times, he wondered why he had made the decision not to, but he would be reminded every time Yoongi absentmindedly traced the length of his scars on his chest, the slightest frown marring his brow. Jimin knew the captain felt guilty about what had happened, as if he should’ve been able to stop it somehow, and the last thing Jimin wanted was to fuel that guilt.
Of course, he knew it was hardly a secret he would carry to his grave. There were only so many instances he could blame on lack of attention whenever a hushed word went without him hearing it. It was hardest to hide from Yoongi, who liked to whisper in his ear in various situations.
Jimin would tell him one day, when he felt he was ready to face his beloved’s sorrow.
“It was a small price to pay for what has been done,” he said now, fierce affection blooming in his chest as he thought of Yoongi.
He looked at his mother’s grave, thus failing to see the awe in his friend’s eyes as she peered at him. “You really are a kind boy, little bird,” Jihyun said and gently patted his shoulder.
Jimin emitted an airy giggle and shook his head. “They say the same thing,” he murmured and reached out to run his hand over the grave once again. His heart was beating loudly against his ribs, and he wanted to tell her now. He wanted her to know, no matter how she would feel about it. “I have someone I care about now,” he began. “Someone beloved.”
He did not need to look away from the tomb to feel his friend’s surprise. “Oh,” she uttered. There was a spark of joy in her voice, but she remained silent for a moment, clearly struggling to ascertain the possible identity of the person he loved. “Are they…”
“A pirate?” Jimin supplied when she left the question unfinished. “Yes, he is.”
If she felt any kind of distaste at that, she did not show it. “Is he the pirate who took you away from here?” she asked. “That blonde boy?”
Her question had Jimin sputtering in his hurry to deny it, a disbelieving laughter spilling from his lips. “Who, Tae?” He shook his head frantically, shuddering at the mere thought. “No. He’s like a brother to me, I’d never. Not to mention he has his own lover, but even so!”
Jihyun snorted, clearly amused by his reaction. “I see,” she said with a huff and jerked her head in a demand for him to elaborate, a request he was eager to comply to.
“He has a temper worse than yours, Jihyun,” he said, failing miserably at keeping the fondness from his voice. “And he’s foul-mouthed and petulant at times and he struggles with his anger, and he’s too stubborn for his own good. But,” his smile softened, “he tries so hard to be good, as if he can’t see just how good he already is. As if he truly doesn’t know how gentle he is when it matters the most, or how only a few words from him can calm me or make me feel like I’m the strongest person in this world.”
His cheeks grew warm as he spoke of his beloved, but he met Jihyun’s gaze without faltering all the same. “I don’t think you would like him,” he said, “but I believe he could like you.”
She hummed at that, pondering his words for a moment. “Does he make you happy, little bird?” she asked then, her tone more serious than he had ever heard it.
“He does,” Jimin said and felt the truth of his words inside him, his heart ready to burst with adoration. “More than I ever thought I could be.”
In an instant, the stern tension faded from his friend’s expression and made way for a wide, toothy smile. “That’s good, then,” she said and nodded contentedly. “What is his name?”
Contrary to his prior worry, Jimin did not hesitate to tell her now. There was nothing in the world he wanted more in that moment than to tell her.
“His name is Min Yoongi,” he said and watched the smile fall from Jihyun’s face, the old woman’s eyes growing comically wide in recognition. It made Jimin laugh, bright and joyous, his chest brimming with pride as he spoke the name of whom he loved most in this world. “The Black Fox of the East.”