Chapter Text
“I’m glad we brought film cameras with us. These don’t look the same on a screen.”
You and Jimin share a warm look.
It’s been a while since this couch has fallen victim to one of your debriefs, but it’s still a perfect Saturday, your feet propped up, Jimin’s arm around you, and that gorgeous baby nestled happily in your arms.
A photo after the Florilège show. Sightseeing in Paris. And then Greece. Spain. Rome.
Jimin’s eyes pop open.
“Excuse me.”
He sets down the photo of you, him, and Mujigae in front of the Palace of Versailles and instead pulls out a shot of just you, in your red bathing suit, the sun gleaming, haloing you. There’s an easy smile on your face, pointed right at Jimin, as he captures that frame in time. He stares at it adoringly, mirroring the smile you’re presenting in the picture.
And the one on your face now.
“You’ve been hiding these?” he asks.
You look down from Jimin’s eyes and down to the tiny copy in your hold, asking, “Why, you still remember her?”, as you watch those eyes rove around in wonder.
“Yeah,” Jimin answers, “she’s right next to me. Like always.”
You giggle and lean into the kiss that Jimin presses onto your temple.
“Fiji?” he questions.
“Bali, I think.”
“Ooh, Bali.”
“Ugh, guys.”
Mujigae scoffs at the pair of you, weary at the way you spoil her own daughter, and grossed out by the way Jimin continues to salivate over your pictures from all those trips, so many years ago.
“Can we focus on the show, please?” she sighs, pointing to the living room TV screen. “I mean, isn’t that what we’re here to do?”
“You should know by now, kiddo,” Taehyung replies from his seat on the opposite couch, Eun-jung beside him and laughing softly. “There’s no stopping them.” The wrinkles by his eyes blend softly into gray wisps at his temple. They may show his age but are no less magical, drawing everyone into his boxy smile.
“How could you stand it?” Mujigae asks, her tongue hanging out in disgust. “All that time together? Living together? Seeing them like this?”
She gestures to the two of you, squeals and giggles poking through your lips as Jimin presses his to your ear and whispers things he’ll do to you if you dig that red bathing suit out of storage.
Eun-kyung grins at her, making room on the loveseat as Chul returns from the kitchen with more popcorn. “Oh, I dunno. It’s sweet, don’t you think?”
“I was counting on you, Auntie,” Mujigae scowls, disappointed in the one person who she thought shared her aversion to the maudlin.
“So I’ve gotten soft as my youth has fallen away.” Eun-kyung shrugs again. “There are worse things that could happen.”
Mujigae forgives immediately, when old pictures of Jimin join a flurry of others in Florilège’s montage, a package of clips of bombastic past shows.
She cracks up, her laugh still so similar to the one Jimin could pull from her just by saying her name.
And Jimin’s eyes still light up at the sound.
“Appa, you look like Big Bird!”
Jimin frowns, and Taehyung cackles so hard that he has to slap his knee to get himself to calm down.
“That was haute couture,” Jimin protests, his eyebrow arching. “You wouldn’t understand the times.”
“I lived them, and I didn’t understand them,” Eun-jung mumbles, and Taehyung bursts into laughter again, unable to calm down and rising to his feet to try and walk it off, his laughter echoing throughout the house.
“You know what I don’t understand?” Mujigae asks, as more scenes of Jimin and other models from different years splay across the screen. “Your entire career. All that money and fame. And you just gave it away after a few good years.”
“If you consider your college and med school expenses just ‘giving money away’, then sure, that’s what I did,” Jimin says, his tone firming at the sensing of Mujigae’s insolence.
“Don’t get me wrong,” Mujigae shrinks. “Iljo and I are very thankful.”
You think of your younger one, your son, who just happened not to be able to make it on this trip due to work.
“We know we wouldn’t have had the lives you gave us had you not had that career,” Mujigae continues, “but why move back here, this part of town, and into this house?”
The paint, layout, furniture, and appliances are all different, but there are still important, familiar charms. The rooms still get the same light. Taehyung’s old room is still the warmest, somehow. And for some reason, every tenant has kept Jimin’s classic vanity in that master bedroom.
“It’s home,” you say, shrugging.
The several, trendy lofts and veritable mansion you’d lived in. All that traveling. And then, quickly settling back into reality. Jimin, working with Sejin, to consult. You, picking back up where you left off, with Marielle, whom you still visit every now and then for lunch or tea.
“With both of us officially retiring, it was time to come home,” Jimin says, squeezing your shoulder and pressing another kiss at your temple.
You turn to kiss him on the mouth, as your friends holler playfully at you, and Mujigae stands to take her precious daughter before she gets smushed under your treacly love.
“How is this a home? The school’s so close,” Mujigae complains. “All that noise. All those drunk students. And the parking sucks. And…”
As Mujigae continues rattling the house’s list of offenses, you and Jimin share a meaningful look, realizing that she doesn’t know.
“Mujigae,” Jimin interrupts, “this was our home. Our first home as a family.”
Mujigae stares at you, eyes softening.
“It was?”
“That restaurant we showed you? I mean, it’s a different one now, but Uncle Tae-Tae, and our friends, your uncles Yoongi, and Jin, and Hobi? We all worked there together,” Jimin replies. “The park? That’s where we met Dr. Namjoon and Rapmon the First. The hospital we passed on the way back? That’s where you were born.”
“And the hospital we saw when we first drove in,” you say softly, looking up at your beautiful luminous daughter, and hers, snug and falling asleep against her chest. “That’s where…”
Jimin hugs you tighter. And your friends watch with quiet reverence.
Mujigae had suffered so many losses of her own.
She smiles and sits down next to you, understanding. And you run your hand through her sleek, black hair. Grateful that you can.
“Y’know,” Jimin says tenderly, “I think we even conceived you in this very spot.”
“Appa!” Mujigae complains, as the rest of you laugh, and delight in her pout.
But then her eyes meet yours, and you know that this is one of those moments. Those heavy, but ordinary moments. Those moments that show you that everything you’ve been through was worth it.
Eun-kyung wiggles her fingers to take your granddaughter next, your friends chattering excitedly about the times you’d had there.
Leaving Mujigae free to nestle into you.
And you all miss it, but just as the homage is ending, there’s a behind-the-scenes clip of Jimin jumping off the catwalk at rehearsal, and wrapping you and baby Mujigae up in his arms.