Chapter Text
Jimin could hear the song before his sight cleared from the flashes of golds and reds and blacks. His head pounding from being lurch forward so violently, he felt groggy, bringing a hand to rub his forehead as he stood up and tried to figure out where he was.
It was a hallway, one he certainly didn’t recognize. It was empty except for him, and somewhat dull, like his sight was clouded with fog, or like a filter was put over everything, making it low-lit and grey. But there was music playing. Piano music, to be exact. A soft, calm yet bright tune, one that greatly contrasted looks of the hallway.
Jimin walked towards where he thought it sounded that the music was coming from, and as he looked down to watch his steps, he noticed golden flakes; they almost looked like flower petals. They were scattered on the floor, floating lightly by him, and as he got closer to the sound of music, the more of them he noticed. It seemed that more arrived with each note of the piano, until Jimin reached a closed door, seeing that the flakes were indeed escaping through the crack at the bottom of it, an overall bright light also shining through.
Jimin hesitated when he raised his hand up to the doorknob. He was shaking, but whether it was due to his achy muscles or more the anticipation at the compulsion he felt towards whatever was behind the door, he wasn’t sure. Finally, he took in a deep breath, turned the doorknob and pushed open the door.
He was met with a bright, soft yellow light, it shone through him, past him, enveloping him, and it felt warm. It was a rare occurrence during his visions, but in that moment, he felt safe. Of course, this was temporary, and too soon for his liking, the flashes took over his mind, lurching him forward again.
This time when his eyes were able to focus, he was startled to see himself, confused in the moments it took before he registered that he was in front of a mirror. His heavy breathing echoed in his ears, head still pulsing, and he took a few steps back. He seemed to be in a dance studio, the walls covered in mirrors and the room expansive, nothing crowding the wooden floors. He turned his head too quickly, feeling dizzy as he heard laughter from outside the room. It was friendly, but loud, and it sounded like more than one person.
As the noise of laughter and footsteps increased, seeming to be just outside the door, the lights hanging from the studio’s ceiling began growing brighter. Jimin had to squint, trying to will himself to watch as he saw the silhouettes of people on the other side of the door. It clicked as someone turned the knob, but as the door swung open, all the lights sparked, showering Jimin in another warm, bright light as golden sparks showered over him, making him unable to see the details of the figures approaching him.
He could barely make out voices—did one say his name?—before his vision blurred, and a flash of red overcame him before he was pulled back, every atom of his being suddenly jerking backwards at a violent rating. It felt like he was falling, hard, his head rushing and pulsing, his vision nothing but confusing flashes of color in the darkness. The rush was relentless enough to make him want to pass out, and just when it felt like he couldn’t take it anymore, he gasped, opening his eyes and letting out a shaky breath.
He was back in his bedroom, balled up in the corner between a wall and his dresser. Registering how tightly he had been hugging his knees to his chest, he slowly relaxed his muscles, now shaky from their impossibly tight grip. His breaths were shallow, and he sniffled, running the back of his hand over his damp eyes, and then he coughed. He wanted to get up, check the time to see how long he had been gone, but he was too weak to get his legs to work. So he did all he could, and laid his head back against the wall, catching his breath, feeling his heart pound against his chest, and he thought about the vision he just had.
He couldn’t stop thinking about the piano music. It had been so soft, so light and melodic, and the way the golden petals matched the music, only made it feel more peaceful. And the second part—the golden shower of light in the dance studio. Both the hall and the studio had been dull, but the presence of other things made them brighter. Usually his visions left him feeling uneasy, and in way he still did, thanks to his sore muscles and pounding headache, but there was something about this vision that was different. It had such a warmness to it, that made Jimin feel…comforted.
There was a knock at his door that made Jimin freeze.
“Jimin hyung? Mom wanted to know if…” Jimin’s brother rounded the corner, and Jimin shrunk in on himself, trying to no avail to make himself small enough to go unseen. “Oh. Did—did you just have one?”
Jimin sighed at Jihyun’s wide, concerned eyes. He leaned back against the wall again and slowly, carefully stretched out his legs, fighting back a wince. “I’m fine, Jihyun.”
His younger brother took a few steps closer, crouching down in front of Jimin, but not touching him, as if he was made of glass and could shatter. “Should I—tell Mom?”
Jimin swallowed hard, shaking his head and closing his eyes, running low on energy. “No, just…just tell her I’m taking a nap. Whatever she wanted, I’ll get to it later.”
“O-okay. Do you, umm, need anything?”
Jimin opened his eyes again, sniffing a small smile at his brother, hoping it would ease his worry some. “No, Jihyun. I’m just gonna rest. It’s fine, really.”
His brother did end up helping him to his bed, but after that Jimin convinced him to leave, that everything was okay, and not to tell their parents. Jimin usually hid during his visions, afterwards tried to conceal that he’d had one.
He knew he burdened his parents. As the only Touch in his immediate family, when Jimin started having visions, it was a worrying experience. Jimin hated seeing how much it affected them, he felt guilty every time he had one, interrupting their normal days, their normal lives.
It was around when Jimin was thirteen that he resigned himself to keeping his visions to himself as much as possible—sure, if they came on in public or at school, he had to inform someone, but whenever it was in the privacy of his home, he would excuse himself to his room and tuck away to a corner. He figured that no matter whether his whole family, or no one at all knew, the result was the same: he had the vision, he had the ailments. Nothing changed, except the worry, and the guilt over the worry. So Jimin did what he could to fend for himself. To not be a burden.
He closed his eyes, his head into relaxing into the pillow as he heard Jihyun shut the door behind him. His mind wandered back to the vision, to the places and the light and the warmth. He thought about how he was moving in to start at university in a few days; his mom had probably sent Jihyun up to ask about packing, since they had been getting ready for him to leave. Maybe these places—the hall and the studio—were there. If they were, if it meant college would bring him that sense of warmth and comfort, then in a way, this vision consoled his anxiety over moving somewhere new on his own. Jimin took in a deep breath, his headache beginning to ease up as he drifted into sleep.
~
Jin arrived at the dorm to take over for the resident assistant who had been in charge of check-in that morning.
Jin had graduated the previous semester, but with no idea what he wanted to further pursue in life even after obtaining his degree, he knew he would miss being an RA the most. So when his boss had contacted him with the prospect of continuing the job, but promoted to a head RA, in charge of a small dorm with two other RAs to help, he was glad to accept.
The thing about being an RA at the Yerin University for the Touched was that it often also involved taking on the roles of a caretaker for your residents. When the university was originally founded, it was just for Touched individuals who, as a minority, had commonly faced discrimination and in some areas even segregation from most people, Untoucheds. Perhaps in an attempt to promote integration, Yerin University soon began accepting Untoucheds as well, but of course, maintained their original mantra and goals of celebrating Touched individuals, allowing them a foundation for future successes in the world.
Because of this mantra, the school upheld many policies that were implemented to accommodate Touched students as they worked through their academic career. One of the main aspects of this had to do with living assistance, and thus the extensive RA program within the housing administration. Each dorm had both floor RAs—typically students themselves, who of course went through proper training—and at least one head RA—usually an adult with plenty of experience—and this was now Jin’s role. He had been an RA since his sophomore year, having done the training during the summer beforehand, and he thrived in the job. He loved meeting new people, interacting with students, and he often grew close to the kids on his floor—he loved feeling like an older brother, someone they could turn to for anything.
Now as a head RA, he was excited to be back at the university, and tried not to be too nervous over his newly promoted status.
After a few hours of students arriving, getting their keys and moving into their new rooms, there was a lull in the amount of people entering the dorm. Jin scanned over the check-in sheet on his clipboard to see how many more kids would be arriving, and he caught sight of a familiar name that had already been checked off by the previous RA. With his other RA supposed to be arriving to help, he left a note for him and posted a “On break—back in ten” sign at the front desk in case any other families arrived, then made his way up the stairs to the room that had been listed next to the name.
Once on the third floor, standing at room 303, Jin leaned in the doorway, rapping his knuckles against the propped open door. A smile grew on his face when Min Yoongi abruptly turned his head up from the boxes he was crouched over, at first startled, but then the younger smiled too.
“I’m on break,” Jin said, “let’s go get coffee.”
The Starbucks on campus was open, but since it was only the first day that people could move in, campus was still pretty quiet, and so the shop didn’t have many customers. Jin and Yoongi sat across from each other at a table outside once they got their drinks, the weather not too hot despite it being August. Jin watched Yoongi sip his cold brew, the younger keeping his eyes grazing over the expanse of the university quad.
“I heard you and Minah broke up—that true?” Yoongi said after a beat.
Jin, taking of sip of his frappuccino, nodded. “Yeah, a few months ago now.”
“Sorry to hear,” Yoongi said, almost as a question, or something he felt he should say out of obligation.
Jin waved his hand. “Don’t be. It was pretty mutual.”
Yoongi nodded, and the two fell into another bout of silence, each drinking their coffees.
“So you’re really gonna make me ask?” Jin broke the silence.
Yoongi met his eyes, arching an eyebrow. “What?”
Jin cocked his head, blinking at the younger’s faux ignorance. “Why you’re on my floor as a resident? And not an RA?”
Jin and Yoongi had become friends two years ago, when he was a junior and Yoongi a sophomore. They were both RAs on the same floor of one of the bigger dorms at the university, big enough that there were two per hall. They became pretty close that year, working together with their floor’s residents, and they seemed to have a really good time. The next year they were both still RAs, but they had been assigned to different dorms, completely across campus. While Jin was sure that neither of them would have considered the friendship over, the two lost contact with each other during that year. He wasn’t really sure why.
But, during his last semester, he remembered hearing through the grape vine of RAs (a surprisingly gossipy bunch) that Yoongi had quit. Jin never got around to confirming the rumor with Yoongi himself. Now with the younger in his senior year, living in the smallest dorm of campus as a resident, Jin knew it must be true, and that something must have happened.
But now, being asked, Yoongi just pursed his lips before bringing the straw up to take another drink, and he shrugged. “It wasn’t for me. I’m not cut out for it. Being a caretaker.”
“Took you two years to realize that?” Jin asked, skeptical that Yoongi wasn’t sharing everything.
The younger shrugged again. “Guess so. Anyway, aren’t you glad to have me on your floor? Maybe we’ll actually start hanging out again.”
This made Jin smile, and he decided not to press the younger or call him out on changing the subject. “Yeah, that’d be nice.”
Yoongi smiled and took another sip of his drink. “So what’re the residents besides me like? I heard our floor has a special case or something. That true?”
Jin shook his head, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. Even if he quit, Yoongi must’ve still been in on that RA gossip. He smirked at Yoongi. “Sorry, confidentiality policy.”
Yoongi tossed his head back and groaned. “Hyung, seriously?”
Jin let out a soft laugh. “Sorry.” After a pause, he relented, “There are a couple guys with pretty intense Touches, which is why I’m on that floor, and why there’re only a few other residents on it as well.”
“The rest Untouched?” Yoongi guessed.
Jin nodded. “You know how this works.”
Another aspect of accommodating Touched individuals—and making sure not to overwhelm any RAs—was a balancing act of who to house where. Typically, floors consisted either of mostly mild Toucheds, or mostly Untouched with only a few, more intensive Toucheds. Some were critical of the policy, stating that it was profiling, but its purpose was purely practical, to make sure everyone was being properly attended to and that no RAs were overworked.
Yoongi pursed his lips. “Makes sense now why I was assigned there. And here I thought maybe you had requested me.”
“Didn’t know you’d be a resident,” Jin retorted.
Yoongi sniffed a laugh. “Fair point. Well, I’ll meet them soon enough anyway.”
Jin nodded, but that was all he was willing to share on the matter. Truth be told, and what he wouldn’t admit to Yoongi, is that he was glad the younger was on his floor. Jin wasn’t sure what had caused this change in attitude that made Yoongi doubt his caretaking abilities, but Jin knew he was, at the very least, a generally calm, level-headed presence that had made him a good RA. Jin knew even if Yoongi had resigned from the job and had his doubts, if he ever needed him, he would always be willing to help. It was something Jin didn’t plan to rely on, but it was still something that he found comfort in.
~
Taehyung stood at the front steps of this building he was moving into. It was old, made of stone, and there were large windows with white wooden frames on each of the three floors, six across the façade. For a dorm, it was small and cozy, somewhat off the main part of campus but still no more than a ten minute walk to get anywhere.
Taehyung sighed. He appreciated that it was different. Rustic and cozy, not vast and sterile. But it still wasn’t enough to ease his apprehensions.
“Should we get your key?” Taehyung’s grandma stood beside him, she too looking at the expanse of the building.
He noted her word choice, even if she thought she was being subtle. He clicked his tongue. “Yeah, let’s get me checked into this place now.”
“Taehyung.”
“Sorry.” He started up the steps to avoid her turning the comment into a big deal, reminding him that this was entirely different. He knew it was—it obviously was. To be honest, he didn’t know why he made the remarks like that, especially to his grandma of all people.
It had been ten months. Ten months since he stepped foot out of the mental institution. He had walked out the doors, and before he got in the car with his grandma, he’d turned around. He turned around and stared at the giant medical facility, and he said good bye to the three years he had been there. Then he turned back, got in the car, and refused to ever look at it again as they drove off. Those three years would stay there forever. Tae just tried to be grateful that he didn’t have to too.
In some ways, ten months was a long time. It was enough time to move and settle in somewhere new, it was enough time to finally become clean, having eased yourself off of the final meds you were advised not to quit cold turkey. It was enough time to learn to act and go places without needing the permission or accompaniment of an orderly. It was enough time to discover that you could go on walks, and that you could keep walking for a very long time. You could just keep walking and no one would stop you. It was also enough time to learn that you probably shouldn’t do that.
But in so many other ways, ten months felt like no time. Ten months wasn’t enough time to convince yourself that this wasn’t all a mistake. Ten months wasn’t enough time to tell yourself that you’re not crazy, or even if you’re not, that other people will still think you are. And if everyone deems you as crazy—what is it that makes you not?
It wasn’t enough time to not feel bitter. Tae wasn’t sure that any amount of time ever would be.
But no matter what the ten months out of the psyche ward and spent at his grandmother’s home amounted to, it was time for it to come to an end. He was more than a handful for her thanks to his ailments, but perhaps more so than that, he needed to start a life for himself.
“You can’t spend the rest of your days going on walks and tending to my garden,” his grandma had told him one evening as she shoved a pamphlet for the university in his face. “You’re young, and Touched, and beautiful. It’s time for you to really live!”
Taehyung found the sentiment equally thrilling and nerve-wracking. For every moment he considered moving somewhere new, meeting new people, going to classes and everything, he had the insecurities of others finding him weird or crazy, but he also had hope. It was scary, to wonder if he would be able to live on his own or make friends, or maybe something more, but the idea of doing so left butterflies in his stomach.
The Touched Rights activist organization that had helped get Tae out of the mental institution had given the information about the university to Tae’s grandma, and then helped them with the applications and forms when Tae had decided he was interested.
The university was known for being accommodating to Toucheds, even ones as unique and special case as Taehyung. The administrative people were in contact with him right away, and they organized a set up he was comfortable with, leading him to where he was now, in a small dorm. Last he had heard, there was an especially experienced resident assistant who would serve as his caretaker whenever his ailments acted up, and he was also made aware of Tae’s “delicate situation,” as they liked to refer to his past few years.
Taehyung wasn’t sure how to feel about this. He knew on a pragmatic level that it was necessary, for there to be someone present to help him during his low bouts and to be fully aware of the situation, but Tae couldn’t help being apprehensive about meeting him. It felt weird to meet a stranger who knew your entire backstory, and all your flaws. The guy could pity him, or treat him differently, when so much of the appeal of moving somewhere new was the clean slate that allowed him to feel…normal. But, the administrative people talked highly about this Kim Seokjin, so maybe it would be okay.
He reached the top of the steps, grabbing and swinging open the door to the dorm’s lobby. He turned and held the door for his grandma to walk in after, giving her a reassuring smile when she eyed him in a questioning manner. The smile was still on his face when he looked away from her, but it slowly faded and he found himself stopped in his tracks when his eyes fell on the guy in the front lobby.
Talking to a girl and her parents, the man was holding a clipboard to his broad chest, pointing with his free hand down the hallway. He gave a friendly, genuine smile and nodded as they began to walk away. He turned and met Taehyung’s eyes, his own a warm deep brown, the genuine smile still present. Tae could feel his cheeks grow warm and his heart beat faster in his chest. This guy was beautiful.
“Checking in?”
It took Tae a moment to register his words. “Huh? Oh, yeah. I’m Taehyung.”
“Ah, Taehyung. It’s nice to meet you, I’m Jin. I’m guessing you’ve already heard about me,” the guy said. Tae nodded, and Jin smiled before looking at his clipboard, marking something, checking his name off a list of residents, probably. “Your room is 312, let me just grab the key and your sign-in form, and I’ll walk you up there.”
As they walked up the stairs, Jin continued explaining about the dorm. “There’re three floors with residents, and a basement that has the laundry room and a kitchen. Each floor has a community bathroom, which the residents are collectively responsible to keep clean. There’re two other RAs in the building, you’re bound to meet them at some point, but I’m the head RA, and my room is 314, so I’m also the RA for your floor.”
Jin led Tae and his grandma down the hall until they reached 312, and they all walked into the room. It was simple, still plain due to being empty, nothing but the bed, nightstand, and a desk in there currently. Its plainness and uniformity, all too familiar, left Tae feeling unsettled, but he hoped it didn’t show. He reminded himself that soon enough the room would be filled with his belongings, the walls covered in posters and pictures of his choosing, and then it would be better. It would be different.
In the meantime, his eyes focused on the one part of the room that he did find comfort in, and that was the large window opposite to the door. Light poured into the room from it, and when his grandma walked over and pushed it open (she knew he was partial to open windows), he was able to breathe easy. She stayed by the window as Jin stood next to Taehyung, handing over the key and a sheet of paper.
“So you’ll need to sign this, it just states that the room had no damage when you moved in, and get it back to me or one of the other RAs,” Jin said.
“Alright.”
“I also wrote my number on there so you have it. Part of the set up here is that I’m on call 24/7. And, Taehyung, I want to talk real quick, if you don’t mind,” Jin said, glancing behind him briefly, perhaps to check that he had closed the door for privacy, which he had.
Tae nodded when Jin was facing him again, swallowing hard, as he could about imagine what topic Jin felt the need to bring up. He wasn’t sure what the older was going to say, but his heart started racing, anticipating unsolicited pity or something of the like. But as Jin spoke, he quickly realized he was wrong.
“I just want it to be clear that…well, I’m not here to babysit, you know? I don’t ever want my residents to feel like I’m suffocating them. A big part of college is experiencing independence for the first time, so even though I’m around and happy to help my residents, I respect their boundaries too. But I know your situation is…unique, so I wanted to check with you because I don’t want you to get the wrong impression—if you need me to be more present, of course I can be.”
“So you really do know everything,” Tae found himself mumbling. Despite everything Jin had said, things he liked too—the idea of not constantly being under watch, having others in control of your every move, of course sounded amazing—yet here he was, doing it again. Making bitter, uncalled for remarks.
He wanted to keep his eyes downcast, he wanted to glower and pout, still expecting pity or judgement to crop up in Jin. But there was something about him. He held Tae’s gaze intently, and he spoke in a way that was so different than what Tae was used to. It was soft, but not condescending in the slightest.
“I’m the only one who knows,” Jin said simply. “And I’m the only one who has to know. It’s your story to tell, or to not.”
Taehyung blinked, then realized he was biting his lip, and he just nodded. Jin gave a small smile.
“Well, any other day I’d stay and talk more, but move-in is always busy and I’m the only RA on hand right now, so I better get back downstairs.” As he stepped away, he flashed a brighter smile. “You have my number. Don’t hesitate if you ever need me, and we can talk it over more once you’ve had time to settle in.”
“He seemed nice,” Tae’s grandma broke the silence that had fallen upon the room, walking to the boy who stayed stood in the middle of the room, eyes stuck on the door frame Seokjin had just left through.
“Yeah.” Tae swallowed. “He did.”
Taehyung and his grandma spent the afternoon getting his stuff up to his room, and then unpacking. He walked with her back to the car when it was finally time for her to go.
He sniffed a soft laugh when she made a sad face at having to leave. “It’s not forever, I’ll be back over breaks.”
“I know,” she said, pulling her grandson into a hug. “And you’ll call me to let me know how things are going?”
“Of course.”
“Or if you ever need anything. If this isn’t the right fit, I’ll come get you. We’ll figure something else out.”
“I know.”
“But I hope it is the right fit.”
“I know.” He paused, then hugged her a bit tighter. “I hope so too.”