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For You, I Waited

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Namjoon let out a small yawn as he made his way through the temple to do his routine check ups. A part of him wondered why he still wasn't used to being up at 4am despite having worked the position for three years now. It should have become commonplace routine at some point, yet it hadn't.

Being a security guard for a quaint Buddhist temple certainly hadn't been where he pictured himself being after the grueling experience of police academy and his doctorate in criminal justice, but somehow it suited him perfectly. The atmosphere was almost always peaceful on the grounds. As a protected world heritage site, there wasn't any likelihood such a feature would ever change either. There was the occasional rowdy guest but for the most part, his job was easy. Make sure no one disturbed the monks when they were in prayer or ceremony, protect temple relics, and make sure no one disturbs the Sleeping One.

His round of daily checks brought him to the somewhat legendary pedestal. The blonde haired boy slept on unknowing of the world around him as he apparently had for the past 500 years, if records were to be believed.

The tales told of two soulmates who practiced magic, completed with the presence of the other. When one of them died, the other used their magic to fall into an eternal sleep, only to be awoken by their beloved calling their name.

Namjoon found it hard to believe the peaceful looking male had been asleep for 500 years. Magic wasn't exactly unheard of but it was a somewhat mystical art. Anyone who knew the old teachings and had an affinity for it weren't public about their knowledge and abilities. So to think there was magic right before his eyes, keeping the young man alive far beyond normal life expectancy, left him skeptical. Who's to say the blonde wasn't hired help to keep up the mysterious draw to the temple? It certainly was a hot topic for any who came to visit, everyone whispering a name they thought suited the Sleeping One from the foot of his pedestal. Although he had to admit, he had never once seen the boy move from his position. Perhaps magic it was.

So far, if the stories were true, the thousands of people that had come and whispered a name to the boy had not been his soulmate. Which was admittedly sad. 500 years of sleep, and still his beloved had not returned to him.

Namjoon huffed to himself as he considered how fitting the plot sounded to be made into a tv drama.

"Another year, and still he sleeps…" someone said from beside him.

He bowed his head respectfully to the older man, "Kun seunim."

The man tilted his head in return, hands hidden within the sleeves of his hanbok. "We begin to wonder if the poor soul will ever be reunited with his other half. It would be a sad fate to see them eternally apart."

A small smile worked onto his face. "Something will happen sooner or later, kun seunim, I have no doubt."

"On behalf of this young one, we shall hope."

It was odd to think that the Sleeping One remained untouched by the 500 years that had passed since he had been found in his resting position. What the elder man said was true. He looked to be no older than his 20s. It truly was a marvel. Namjoon could only wonder how jarring it might be should he awaken after so long. How strange it would be to suddenly find things to be so different from how they once were.

Perhaps it was a vain hope, but still Namjoon found himself hoping that the universe would allow the soulmates to be reunited. Something in his bones didn't sit well with the knowledge that they were apart, though he had no idea why.

Until the day came that his other half returned, he promised to keep watch over the Sleeping One for as long as he was able. In some way, he felt as though he owed that much to the boy.

 

 


 

 

Yoongi decided he quite liked the slice of tranquility the temple grounds had amidst the city surroundings. The recommendation to stop in for a visit had come from his fellow rapper and producer, Hoseok. Apparently his friend made frequent trips to the temple, but refused to disclose a reason. He merely pushed the prospect that he should go and check it out for himself.

And so, after months of being nagged about it, he had finally given in and gone. He was loathe to admit that Hoseok had been entirely right to push him into going.

Wandering the grounds had brought an odd clarity to his mind that he hadn't felt in months. It was a much needed reprieve from the stress and high paced life he led.

It took months, if not years, for some of his music to be produced and finalized, and only moments for it to be consumed by any who listened. It was a fine example of the vicious cycle of creation; always being consumed faster than it could be produced. It was exhausting, even with how much he appreciated his ravenous fans and their passion for his own passion.

So the reprieve from it all was more than needed. Especially for how long he had been going at the pace he had. Hoseok must've known; probably seen the signs of burnout before he did. Yoongi made a mental note to find a way to thank his friend properly sometime soon.

"Is it your first visit here?" Someone asked politely, interrupting his mental tirade.

Yoongi turned to face the voice and flushed slightly at the knowing smile on the taller man's face. "Uhh yeah, am I giving off a tourist vibe?"

The man, assumedly a security guard, nodded with a chuckle. "I've worked here for awhile, it has become easy for me to tell. How have you liked the temple so far?"

"It's beautiful," he replied easily. "For how close we are to downtown, it's kind of ridiculous how quiet and peaceful this little corner of the city is."

His companion let out a content sigh. "I completely agree, it's one of the many reasons I have stuck around. Not many problematic people, tranquil atmosphere, and kind monks all around. I'm totally in my element."

Definitely security then. Yoongi glanced around their current surroundings curiously. "So having been here awhile, do you have a favorite place, stranger?"

"Ah sorry, my name is Namjoon," the man fumbled in saying, a dimpled smile appearing on his face.

"Yoongi," he returned quickly.

"Nice to meet you! I do have a favorite place here, would you care to see it?"

He nodded. It was intriguing to him that even someone on site would have a particular spot they liked more than the rest. He wasn't entirely sure he'd be able to nail down a section he had favored, it was all beautiful.

The guard led him to a secluded portion of the temple, walking quietly as though it would be disrespectful to make any sort of noise.

Yoongi could tell there was an obvious difference from the rest of the temple and the room they had entered. Somehow that particular room seemed infinitely older than most everything else. He swallowed nervously, almost feeling like he was intruding into something.

Namjoon halted a short way in front of him and offered a smile over his shoulder. "Come on in, meet one of the sources of serenity for the temple."

He went obediently and froze in surprise at what he saw.

The room itself was rather simple, and yet ornate in its own way. The air was still and quiet, far more than the rest of the temple grounds as if such a thing were possible. At the back of the room, however, was some sort of ancient bed upon a low pedestal. Upon the bed, slept a beautiful blonde man.

It was obvious for several reasons why Namjoon found this part of the temple to be his favorite. The quiet, the serendipitous peace of the room, the raw beauty of the room's only other occupant… it was appeasing.

Yoongi sent a questioning gaze to his companion in hopes it would prompt an explanation.

"The story goes that he has been sleeping there for the past 500 years, in a magic induced slumber until he can be reunited with his lost soulmate," Namjoon informed him. "I initially found it to be really hard to believe, but in the years I've worked here, I've never seen him so much as twitch from his position. Nor a shift in his breathing pattern. It's like he's not even aware of the world around him."

Yoongi hummed in thought, gaze locked on the blonde. "Our grandparents used to tell stories of true magic. If there is substance to that claim then I guess saying his slumber is… magically induced wouldn't be too much of a stretch."

His companion nodded, "Yeah I agree. It's still wild to think about."

The tale was a sad one and his heart twinged looking upon the sleeping boy. There was something oddly familiar about his softened features, even though they were partially hidden by his arm that he rested upon. Yoongi was struck with the foreign wish the boy would awaken.

"You could give it a shot you know; saying a name," Namjoon said with an encouraging smile. "Everyone who comes here does but he's not once woken up."

He furrowed his brow at that. "I imagine this place has regular traffic too, and still he sleeps?"

The smile faded somewhat, "Sad isn't it? We get so many visitors who speak to him, yet none are the one he waits for."

With an expression he was sure could reflect his inner turmoil upon hearing such a thing, Yoongi turned his attention back to the sleeping boy. With only a moment of consideration, whispered the first name that came to mind.

"Jimin…."

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

 

 

For long he had known darkness. There were fleeting dreams and passing whispers within the endless abyss he found himself in. Though his conscious thought was limited. For his mind was in a sort of stasis. He knew enough to know that his spell of slumber had been performed correctly. It was a comforting idea that he had succeeded in his quest to wait for his beloved one to return.

If time had continued on around him, he was not aware of its passage. All he knew was the inky blackness of magical stasis.

Then he heard a voice, piercing through the dark like a beacon light, speaking words he couldn't quite understand. Though he found the tone was achingly familiar. His heart yearned to hear it more.

"Jimin…"

The darkness gave way, the light swooping in with blinding fury. For the first time in a long while, he became conscious of his own body. He felt weak and sore, even his magic only a dull thrum in his veins.

He processed for a moment and then forced his heavy eyelids open.

The spell had been broken.