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it’s early. moonlight shines through the large windows, curtains drawn back to reveal the sleeping city below. despite the hour, the city is still lit up, neon colours, splashes of life everywhere, never dark, never still. the sounds of hovercars rumble faintly in the distance, setting the air thrumming with noise. even though they’re all electric, all supposedly silent, nothing quietens the noise of the city.
everything is bathed in silver light, shining, shimmering, glowing. including one jeon jeongguk, sitting cross-legged at the base of his windows, gazing out over the city.
it’s early, and jeongguk can’t sleep.
he is alone.
number one: march 9th
“yeah, hyung, i’m okay. just, you know… today has always been a weird day for me.”
“alright, jeonggukkie, but if you need anything you let me know straight away! okay?”
“yes, hyung.”
“love you, gukkie!”
“love you too.”
“…”
“...”
“and, hyung?”
“yeah, guk-ah?”
“... thanks.”
after jeongguk waves his hand to dismiss the flickering image of hoseok smiling worriedly down at him, he rolls over and buries his face into his pillow. he sighs, sagging down into the bed. maybe if he breathes out enough, the mattress will give and embrace his body, letting him sink down and down and down…
march 9th. ever since jeongguk can remember, it’s been a Date. a sad day for him, one where sometimes he can’t muster up the energy to get out of bed and face the world.
why?
well, that’s a good question.
if only he knew the answer.
he groans, hearing the sound of little claws pit-pattering on the floor. clearly, it’s breakfast time. (and nail-cutting time. jeongguk has been neglecting his pet parent duties. somehow, he’s surprised when he sees holly and he isn’t immaculately groomed, when he remembers that he has to take care of holly all by himself.) so, even though the most appealing thing to him is staying in bed for the duration of the day, trying to figure out why he feels this sense of loss , despite the disapproving looks he’d get from his friends if they found out— so because of holly, he drags himself up.
holly is waiting when he opens his bedroom door, and immediately jumps up and paws at him. jeongguk bends down to give his tiny head a pat.
“alright, little one. let’s find you some food.”
he stretches in the doorway to his kitchen, reaching up up up until he touches the top of the doorframe, stretching up onto his tiptoes, stretching up towards the sky. he drops his arms down with a satisfied sigh, rolling his shoulders and his neck as he makes his way towards the kitchen cabinets. peering inside, he’s not surprised to see that there are exactly four things inside. some instant ramen, holly’s food, one lone apple and—
a cake?
frowning, he takes the cake and holly’s food out and places them on the counter. on auto-pilot, he pours the dog food into holly’s bowl and sets it out for him, making sure holly makes eye contact with him before telling the dog he can eat. discipline is important for dogs, jeongguk-ah, they need to know who’s in charge .
huh. that’s weird. jeongguk wonders who told him that. none of his friends have pets. if he’s honest, jeongguk doesn’t really know why he has one, either. but, he loves holly, almost as if he were his own—
wait. holly is his dog. what is going on with him today?
he turns his attention to the cake. he doesn’t remember buying it, and it really doesn’t look store-bought. jeongguk is pretty sure he’s never made a cake in his life, so the sight of the tall, beautifully decorated dessert is perplexing, to say the least. it looks like it could have been made by seokjin, or maybe jimin— the two own a bakery, selling sweet treats to anyone and everyone who stops by.
the cake is decorated with white, buttercream icing (jeongguk tastes it to make sure) and small, chocolate chip cookies around the base. on top, icing has been carefully piped so that little balls of what looks like cookie dough can balance safely.
it looks like a cake for a celebration. however, this doesn’t solve the mystery of why this cake is in jeongguk’s house. and today is certainly not a day for celebration.
frowning, he calls seokjin. the tablet in the centre of his kitchen island lights up when he tells it to put him through to the baker, and within a few moments, a slightly staticky image of seokjin is floating above the table.
“hey, jeongguk-ah!” the elder greets him, and jeongguk greets him back, before bringing the cake into view.
“do you know why this is in my house?” he asks, really not in the mood to exchange pleasantries. normally, he loves joking around with seokjin, loves riling him up and getting him to yell and fake punch him and generally goof off. but today—
“oh my— oh , i’m so sorry, i completely forgot! it’s for a customer— i made it at yours while you were out of town, remember, and i must’ve left it there. do you mind if i pop over in a bit to pick it up?” jeongguk nods slowly. by his feet, holly noses at his ankle, whining.
“sure, hyung.” seokjin smiles at him, and tells him again he’ll be over soon before hanging up. jeongguk leans back on the counter and gazes curiously at the cake.
seokjin was lying to him.
his oldest hyung isn’t around as much as his other friends, but he’s around enough for jeongguk to have picked up on some of his tells. for instance, biting his lip when he’s trying to think of a lie.
so, that means there’s something about this cake that seokjin doesn’t want jeongguk knowing. suspicious, he leaves the cake on the counter and retreats into his bedroom to get dressed. sure, he feels strange today, but that doesn’t mean he can be in his pyjamas when seokjin arrives.
he spends the time until seokjin gets there playing with holly. his little dog hasn’t been as playful as he normally is, seems— sad, almost. or maybe he’s just picking up on jeongguk’s mood. he picks up his dog and strokes a hand over his tight curls, down his back, repeating the motion when holly headbutts his hand. he resolves to take the pup out for a nice, long walk as soon as seokjin comes to take the cake away—
there’s a thump from the other room. setting holly back on the ground, he follows the dog out into the living room. standing in the centre of the open space is seokjin, cake in hand, looking a little guilty.
“hyung?” jeongguk asks, confused. “why didn’t you let me know you were here?” a bashful smile spreads over seokjin’s face, and jeongguk doesn’t miss the lip bite.
“didn’t want to bother you, guk-ah. hoseok said you’re feeling off today…” he trails off, clearly expecting jeongguk to brush him off, as he often does when feelings are involved. but there’s something strange about march 9th, and so jeongguk says,
“yeah, i feel weird today.” seokjin blinks once, twice, before smiling at him.
“how about you come down to the cafe later, hmm? it’s been a while,” jeongguk frowns, considering. come to think of it, he can’t remember the last time he visited seokjin and jimin’s cafe.
“sure, i’ll take holly for a walk and then come round.” seokjin smiles, open and genuine.
“we’ll be waiting for you.”
with that, seokjin leaves, and jeongguk has no more answers to his ever-increasing number of questions. why is he still lying to jeongguk? why can’t he remember when he last went to the cafe? why—
holly whines again and pads over to the door, sitting down next to it in a clear indication of what he wants. jeongguk smiles, chuckling at him. he wonders what he was thinking about just a moment ago, and shrugs it off when he can’t recall. holly’s more important, anyway.
he returns to his bedroom to grab another layer before heading out. it’s hot all the time, sure, but there are cool patches inside the greenspace he goes to walk holly.
for some reason, he finds himself digging to the back of his wardrobe, past his favourite leather jacket, past the soft jumpers, the t-shirts, until he finds—
number two: the flannel
— a flannel shirt. he reaches for it, slowly, carefully, and shrugs it on. immediately, he feels safe. there’s a feeling in his chest, a tightness, which dissipates as he feels the soft material. that’s a strange reaction to have towards a piece of clothing.
jeongguk looks at himself in the mirror. fading pink hair, piercings in both ears, white shirt, flannel, ripped jeans, plain socks. he takes the flannel off.
now he looks— incomplete?
putting the checkered shirt back on, he decides not to think too hard about it. today is turning out to be really strange.
holly is all excited out in the main room, pawing at the front door and jumping up on jeongguk’s legs as soon as he takes hold of his lead.
“c’mon, holly, let’s go for a walk.” immediately, holly lets out a bark, and jeongguk can’t help the smile spreading across his face. his dog never fails to put him in a good mood, no matter what.
they head out into the city, jeongguk double-checking that he’s locked the door to his apartment. it’s in such a good location that there are always people around looking to steal it (and all of his stuff) from him. jeongguk really got lucky with that apartment.
outside, he tugs up his ever-present mask to cover his mouth and nose. people are encouraged to spend as little time as possible outside, to lower the risk of getting a lung infection or worse, but jeongguk has always rather liked the noise of the city.
he likes gazing down at the city floor far, far below, and up at the barely visible sky, and around at the buildings and the platforms and the traffic constantly building up, and is always reminded that no matter how large his problems seem, he’s just a small dot in such a thriving city.
he and holly walk along the platform which connects the stack of apartments he lives in to the next, and makes his way over three more platforms before wrestling his way into the elevator. it’s packed full of people, as always, and he picks up holly and holds him close to his chest to prevent him from being crushed under-foot.
he goes up two levels before exiting and quickly making his way towards the big glass doors signalling the entrance to one of the city’s few greenspaces.
as always, entering takes his breath away. there’s so much green around him. from the trees stretching up tall, to the grass beneath his shoes, he can hardly believe such a place like this exists.
according to the records, the whole world used to be this green. there used to be forests, actual forests, filled with more trees than jeongguk’s mind can imagine. there used to be parks (who told him about those?), where people could go for a few minutes or a few hours to escape the rush of the city. and cities themselves didn’t used to be built on layers and layers and layers of buildings, they used to be one building high, and you could see the stars at night.
jeongguk wonders what a world filled with green would look like.
to battle the intense urbanisation their world has gone through in the past decades, governments have made greenspaces mandatory within each city. they’re huge, glass buildings, filled to the brim with trees, plants and more. there are four greenspaces in seoul of this size, and a few more smaller ones. if he were allowed, jeongguk would live inside one of the greenspaces.
holly likes it, too, which is why jeongguk always comes here to walk him. not that there’s really anywhere else suitable to walk a dog.
not a lot of people have pets. they’re too much responsibility— it’s hard enough to take care of yourself, let alone another being. especially with all the restrictions in place— all citizens must have a job, can only spend 2 hours maximum per day outside of a building due to air pollution, and so on. life can be hard, but it’s the only life jeongguk has ever known.
he has it quite easy, as a decent mechanic. his shop is one level down from his apartment, a wide, open space with plenty of room for at least four hover vehicles. he enjoys the work, and enjoys the pay. (it can be lonely, but jeongguk doesn’t think about that.)
letting holly down from his arms, he watches fondly as the dog scampers about in the dirt. he tugs down his mask and takes a deep breath, filling his lungs with clean air. the only clean air in the city. even the air inside the buildings is artificially cleaned, but this air—
it’s pure.
slowly, jeongguk wanders the paths. he lets his feet take him where they will, and tilts his head back in happiness. the lights shining down on his face feel a bit like how he imagines the sun to feel.
not that he’ll ever feel the sun on his face, though. not unless he moves out of seoul, and that’s not going to happen. as much as he longs to live somewhere where he can step outside and not immediately worry about getting ill, where he can feel the grass under his toes every moment and the sun beating down on his skin, he’s not sure that places like that exist. and he’s not willing to take the chance of moving away from all his friends, from everything he’s ever known for that.
so he comes to the greenspaces whenever he can, and keeps his longing locked up inside his heart.
holly trots over to him, a stick held in his mouth. jeongguk laughs before throwing it for him. maybe today will be a good day, despite the strange start.
and then he sees—
number three: the bench
the bench.
something washes over him, a memory—
“hi, jeongguk-ah!” a voice, familiar yet unknown. there’s a man sitting on the bench. holly sits at his feet. jeongguk does/doesn’t know him. he has silver hair, and the piercings in his ears glint under the lights.
“hey, ———! you’re back!” there’s a rush of feeling in jeongguk’s chest, fond and warm. he sits next to the man. their thighs are pressed together. “sorry i’m late. were you waiting long?”
“no, don’t worry. you’re here now.” the man looks up at jeongguk, smiling. his teeth are cute.
“how’s my favourite boy?” jeongguk asks, a cheeky smile curving his lips. the man blinks a few times in surprise, before a pout appears on his lips.
“holly’s doing just fine.” jeongguk giggles, and the man reaches up to cup his cheek with a large, face disarmingly open.
“you’re so cute,” he murmurs, seemingly to himself. jeongguk’s face flushes hot.
the air is quiet around them. the man’s hand is soft on jeongguk’s cheek. jeongguk tilts his head into it, making deliberate eye contact.
and with a sigh, they’re kissing. his lips are gentle on jeongguk’s own— his hands are hot on jeongguk’s skin, everywhere they touch is burning red-hot, and jeongguk is falling falling falling—
he sits down heavily on the bench, and realises he’s crying. heavy, shuddering sobs shake his body, and he doesn’t even know why . with every second, the vision— memory?— gets fuzzier, and jeongguk can’t remember any of the details. what colour was the man’s hair? what was the name of his dog?
what was his name ?
and most importantly, why does jeongguk feel like his heart has been ripped out of his chest?
eventually, he manages to calm down. holly is nosing at his leg, wanting attention or offering support or something like that. most likely the former, though— his little dog always wants attention.
he gets up from the bench— it’s a nice bench, he muses, in a secluded part of the greenspace, where he’s not likely to be disturbed by anyone else. maybe he’ll come back one day.
holly leads him through the greenspace until they’re back to the entrance they came in. as always, jeongguk is reluctant to leave. he’s made so many memories here, both alone and with people—
what is he thinking? he only comes here by himself, to get away from everyone. he shakes his head. what is going on with him today?
he makes his way back home, holly trailing behind him, tired out. he feeds him, makes sure he has enough water, and then hops onto his hoverbike to make his way towards seokjin’s cafe.
weaving his way through the traffic, he feels more alive than he has done all day.
he parks his bike and wanders into the familiar cafe. jeongguk doesn’t know how long seokjin has owned it— positivitea seems to have always been around, along with his seokjin-hyung, always smiling from behind the counter.
today is no different, except it’s jimin poised behind the counter, ready to take orders. seokjin must be in the back, baking away. jeongguk wonders where the cake is.
“jeongguk-ah!” jimin yells across the room, gaining the attention of the few customers seated at their tables. jeongguk shrinks into himself, scurrying over to the counter. “iced americano?” jimin asks, fingers ready to enter his order into the computer. jeongguk frowns.
“i don’t drink coffee, hyung.”
jimin blinks.
“huh. of course, i don’t know why i said that.” he says, slowly. “hot chocolate, isn’t it?” jeongguk nods, and jimin gets to work, momentary lapse forgotten. normally, jeongguk would tease him, call him jimin-ssi, make him laugh, but today—
“jeonggukkie! you came!” seokjin shouts, peeking his head through the kitchen door, distracting jeongguk from his thoughts. there’s a dusting of flour all over his face. “sit down, i’ll bring you something.” he obliges without fuss, taking a seat at the counter so that he can talk to jimin easily.
“hobi-hyung tells me you’ve been feeling off,” jimin says, eyes piercing. jeongguk shrugs.
“yeah, march 9th has always been weird for me, you know that.” there’s a peculiar look on jimin’s face, like he agrees but doesn’t know why. seokjin also chooses this moment to come out of the kitchen, and the look on his face is unreadable.
(a bit of sorrow, a bit of anger, and a bit of heartbreak.)
while jimin makes his hot chocolate and jeongguk picks half-heartedly at the cake seokjin has placed in front of him, he lets his eyes wander. positivitea isn’t a particularly large cafe, but it’s popular with its regulars. there’s the businessman typing away on his tablet, holograms in front of him; there’s the mother with her son, talking quietly; there’s the two girls sitting hand in hand at—
number four: the corner table
the corner table, secluded from the rest of the cafe—
“but hyung, we always sit at the corner table!”
“don’t you want to change it up a bit, gukkie? sit nearer seokjin-hyung and jiminie? don’t you want to talk to them too?”
“you’re my favourite, ——— hyung. i just want to talk to you. and maybe hold your hand and kiss you, too. is that okay?”
“oh, jeonggukkie, of course it’s okay. you know, i really lov—
“jeongguk-ah?”
jeongguk blinks slowly, coming back to himself. he feels dizzy, just like when he lies down for a long time and then stands up too quickly. “i thought i heard…” jeongguk murmurs, almost to himself.
“heard what, jeonggukkie?” seokjin looks worried. jeongguk shakes his head.
"nothing, hyung. don't worry about it." he doesn't look convinced, but seokjin lets it go. jeongguk finishes off his cake— not the one seokjin took from his house, he notes— and soon, he forgets about the strange voices in his head (one sounded strangely like him, but it couldn't have been him. he's sure he's never sat at the corner table before).
the day passes quickly when he's around his friends. they distract him from his thoughts, from his mood, from the fact that it's march 9th and something is wrong.
(seokjin keeps an awfully close eye on him, but surely he's just being a worried hyung.)
soon enough, jeongguk heads back home. he heads back to his quiet, lonely apartment. he knows he could stay with any of his friends if he just asked, but he doesn’t want to intrude. he’s an adult, after all. he can take care of himself.
(it might be nice to have someone to take care of him, just once in a while.)
he feeds holly again, and feeds himself the instant ramen in his cupboard. he needs to go shopping soon. he pulls up his shopping list, and frowns when the first thing on the list is coffee. he doesn’t even drink coffee!
he thinks back to the cafe, and jimin asking him if he wanted an iced americano. maybe march 9th is a weird day for everyone, not just him.
he deletes coffee and adds ramen. it’s just about the only thing he can be bothered to make, anyway. he’s not much of a cook. when seokjin and jimin come round, they tend to cook for him. hoseok, too, and also—
that’s all of his friends. seokjin, jimin, hoseok. no one else.
right?
shaking his head, he pads into his bathroom. there, he undresses and takes a quick pressure shower. he washes his hair as quickly as he can, not wanting to run up his bills too much, and brushes his teeth when he gets out.
strangely, there are two toothbrushes set out to be used. one on the left hand side of the sink, and one on the right. jeongguk’s is on the right. he doesn’t know who the other one belongs to.
with a frown, he leaves it. he’ll put it away tomorrow. somehow, even though it hasn’t been a particularly busy day, he’s exhausted. both physically and mentally.
he lets holly jump up on his bed even though his little dog normally sleeps in his own bed in the kitchen, where it’s nice and warm. he’s feeling a little lonely, so he figures it can’t hurt. it’s like he’s missing something, like he’s missed a step on the stairs and he’s stuck in that moment of panic, that lurch when you realise something is wrong. except he doesn’t know what’s wrong. he feels like—
something is gone. he’s lost something, something important, but he doesn’t know what. his heart knows, but his mind doesn’t.
something is gone.
with a sigh, he sits down on his bed and holly curls up next to him, his warmth very much needed and jeongguk is suddenly extremely grateful for his holly. he’s always there when jeongguk needs cheering up. (even if it’s not really working today).
something glints at him when he turns his head. it’s—
number five: the ring
—a ring, sitting pretty on his bedside table. he picks it up and turns it slowly in his hands. it’s not one of his, or one he recognises as one of his friends’. it’s a thick band, so it could be jimin’s, he supposes.
there are letters carved on the inside of the band. MYG + JJK, they read. that’s strange— JJK are his initials, but he doesn’t know anyone with the initials MYG.
and then—
jeongguk is crying. deep, hopeless sobs, which come up from his chest and echo around the small room. there’s a voice speaking.
“jeongguk-ah, this is the only way. baby, i swear to you, if there was another way, i would take it. but there’s not. there’s not.” jeongguk looks up at the owner of the voice, tears still streaming down his face.
“i won’t remember you? nothing at all?” he asks, voice breaking. the man to whom the voice belongs to cups jeongguk’s face in his hands, like he’s holding something precious.
“this is the only way to save your life.” the man whispers, and jeongguk clutches onto his wrists desperately. “i’m sorry, i’m so sorry. i messed up so badly, i shouldn’t have ever come back and gotten you involved in my life. hyung is so sorry.”
“hyung, i love you, i don’t want to forget you,” the man’s face crumples, and tears begin dripping from his eyes, an unstoppable flow.
“i love you, too. more than i can ever possibly say. which is exactly why i have to do this. i can’t stop the government, jeongguk-ah. it’s this or they’ll—”
“can’t i come with you?” jeongguk asks, already knowing the answer before the man (his lover?) shakes his head. it’s this or he dies. he loses his memories or he dies. all because a time traveller fell in love in the wrong time.
and jeongguk is the one who has to pay the heaviest price.
“it’s dangerous enough for me to time travel, baby, you could be seriously hurt if i brought you with me.” jeongguk sniffles, and the man pulls him upright in order to hug him tightly. he knows all of this already, knows all the reasons why he can't time travel, why he can't go with ———, but it hurts. he just wants to be with him.
"i don't want to forget you," he says again, hopelessly. the man's arms tighten around him.
"i know." he says, voice thick. "but— they'll take everything of me away, but i'll give you my ring. hide it, and don't ever forget that i love you. no matter what, jeongguk, i love you, and i'll find a way back to you. i’ll find you again, one day."
the memory fades. that's what it is, surely— a memory. was that man MYG? why can't jeongguk remember what he looks like? what colour was his hair? what did his voice sound like?
... what was he thinking about?
he puts the ring down— he'd forgotten he was even holding it. it looks like it could be one of jimin's rings— he'll ask him when he next sees him. without thinking about it, he puts it in the back of one of his drawers.
with a groan, he lies down and snuggles down underneath his duvet. he gravitates towards the right hand side of the bed. for some reason, it doesn't feel right to be sleeping on the left.
his bed feels too big for one. even with holly squished in next to him, there's too much space. maybe he should consider getting a smaller bed.
march 9th is always a strange day for jeongguk. but hopefully, tomorrow will be better.
hopefully, tomorrow, he'll feel less alone.
some years later:
holly is zipped into his jacket as he makes his way towards positivitea. the cafe has become even more popular in recent years, but there's always a seat for jeongguk. he's eternally grateful for his friends-- without them, he knows he'd just be secluded away in his apartment or in his workshop, talking to no one.
(especially in the days after march 9th. he always feels especially lonely on those days).
jeongguk focuses on holly's warmth as he parks his bike and jumps off, making sure the engine is turned off and it's all locked up safely. he's made so many modifications to his bike; he would be devastated if it was stolen.
inside the cafe, the atmosphere is lively and warm, as always. seokjin is behind the till, sending a dazzling smile to each and every customer. jeongguk thinks he's grown more handsome with the years, as have jimin and hoseok. and maybe he has, too, but he doesn't think so.
his friends have urged him to date, especially once he opened up about feeling so alone, but jeongguk knows he'll hear bells when he meets The One. and so far, he's heard nothing. so he lives his life, walking holly, fixing bikes and cars, eating ramen. it's not the life jeongguk thought he would be living, but he's happy enough. he's surviving, and he's doing it all by himself.
seokjin spots him in the line and waves him over. jimin sends him a smile from where he's stood by the coffee machines, making people's orders. without jeongguk having to say a word, jimin's already making his hot chocolate, and seokjin hands him a piece of cake, and a dog-friendly snack for holly.
some things never change. his friends, his coffee order, his love life.
he makes his way towards the corner table, where he's taken to sitting recently. it's a nice table, secluded from the rest of the cafe, and jeongguk can people-watch in peace and holly can have a sniff around and a nap. today, he sips at his hot chocolate and casts his eyes around, but his attention keeps returning to one figure.
broad shoulders, the faintest hint of bleached hair peeking out from underneath a black beanie hat, a leather jacket. studs in ears which glint when they move their head. a small button nose. pink lips.
are those bells ringing in jeongguk's ears? he can't tell. it’s too loud inside the cafe.
eventually, the person leaves. jeongguk manages to catch a glimpse of their face— it's a man. there's something about him, which jeongguk can't quite put his finger on. have they met before? he can't remember.
he forgets the man before long, but he's there when jeongguk visits the cafe the following day. and the day after that, and the day after that, too.
jeongguk can't stop watching him.
the man never looks back at him.
it's about a week since the first time jeongguk saw him when they finally meet. it's raining, but jeongguk doesn't own an umbrella, so he takes his helmet off to leave it undercover with his bike and jogs towards the entrance of the cafe.
except, he bumps into someone.
he pulls back, an apology ready to fall off his lips, when he realises who he's bumped into.
him.
"i'm sorry but— do i know you?" jeongguk asks, usual shyness overcome by curiosity and a burning need to know why he can't stop watching this man.
"no, i don't think you do." the man replies. his voice is soft, calm, familiar. jeongguk hears bells when he speaks.
"i'm jeongguk." he says, breathless. there's a feeling in his chest, like he can't quite breathe deep enough, like he’s rediscovered something which was missing, like—
"min yoongi. can i buy you a drink?"
—he’s come home.