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Jimin stopped when he noticed the visitor. He didn’t know how long the visitor had been standing there and staring, but it didn’t matter. The fact that he existed was enough to make Jimin roll his eyes.
“What?” he screamed down, adjusting his stance for better balance.
“You okay there?” the person screamed back, a hand up to shield their face against the bright sun. Jimin snorted, and waved dismissively.
“Yeah,” he screamed down, and deciding that that was enough, he went back to his task. Cleaning the moss off the steep wall. It was a good source for food, hard to get for most other plant eaters, full of minerals that made it taste salty and delicious, and it was also fun to get. He hopped over to the right, a few steps, humming a tune he had heard the neighbor’s boys sing a few days ago. It was catchy and the repetitive motion of hopping along the wall while humming made him forget anything around him even existed at all.
That was until he was back down on solid ground and the person, the man, was sitting idly in the grass, munching on something chewy and dark. Human food.
“Hey,” Jimin said, when he got closer. The grass was soft, and it felt weird under his hooves, weirder than the almost vertical wall he had just climbed.
“Hello,” the other answered with a bright smile, not getting up, not looking alarmed at all. Jimin snorted again. “I heard you guys can do that, but it looks hella scary to see it up close!”
“You weren’t that close,” Jimin muttered, but after a moment of hesitation he sat down next to the man. Pulling out a piece of moss, he started chewing on it, his eyes wandering over the human with mild interest. There weren’t that many of them left, and even though the differences weren’t immense, they were still noticeable. No horns, for one thing. Weird eyes. He cocked his head to the side, watching the human chew his food, swallow it quickly. Carnivorous.
“I’m Namjoon,” the human said when he was done. “What’s yours?”
“Jimin.”
“Jimin? That’s pretty. But it fits, you are really pretty.” He smiled again, showing teeth well cared for. A few pointy ones that made Jimin recoil.
“Yeah, you’re not. You’re eyes are weird.”
Namjoon giggled, leaning back on his hands. “They are, I guess. To you.” He looked at Jimin with an honest face, and Jimin wondered what this peculiar human was doing here. It was a bit remote. Jimin had walked a couple of days to forage. He chewed on the moss, way longer than the human had on his own ration.
“What are you doing here? There’s nothing around, no humans for one.”
Namjoon eyed him for a moment, watching Jimin chew until he swallowed and bit off a new piece. “Just wandering. See where it takes me.” He nodded to himself. “Did you know what that was?”
He pointed at the steep wall Jimin had just climbed, and Jimin looked at it with mild interest. He didn’t really care what the ancient humans had built. It was all rubble now anyway.
“It was a dam. They stopped the water on the other side, and only let a measured amount through. To control the river.”
“That sounds stupid,” Jimin blurted out. “Nobody controls a river.”
“But look at how big it is,” Namjoon said, his eyes looking over the wall with wonder. “Makes you wonder what else they were able to do.”
“Kill each other,” Jimin said, raising his eyebrows as if to dare Namjoon to respond. It was well known that the humans had managed to wipe each other out almost completely. Tried to drag hybrids like Jimin into it, but at least they hadn’t succeeded in that. Though they hadn’t been great at being their own extinction event either, since there were still some left. Resilient, Jimin had to give them that.
“But good things as well, no? I read somewhere that they went into space, even to the moon! I’m not sure if it’s true, but just thinking about it being a possibility…”
Jimin frowned. Visiting the moon? Was there any good reason for that at all? “Is there something to eat up there?” he asked, not sure why he even bothered. Ancient humans might have figured out how to shoot someone up into the sky, but his own people sure wouldn’t do that. Jimin was happy to reach the sky only so far as his own two hooves would take him.
“I don’t know. Some texts said it is made of cheese, but that seems unlikely… it doesn’t, like, appear out of thin air.”
Jimin giggled at that, full out laughing. “Only humans would think the moon is made of rotten milk! You’re the only ones who would ever eat that.”
“Maybe the moon is made of cheese, then. Maybe the humans who reached it decided to stay there and they are happily eating it away until there will be nothing left?” Namjoon looked at him dead serious until he couldn’t help it anymore and he burst out laughing. It was cute, somehow. The pointy teeth didn’t look too scary.
“Mountains,” Jimin blurts out.
“What?” Namjoon asks, wiping a stray tear away. As if a village of humans eating away the moon was such a funny idea… or maybe it was, if Jimin considered them grazing like cows. He giggled, criss crossing his legs into a more comfortable position and leaning forward as if he wanted to tell Namjoon a secret.
“Mountains. I’m sure there are mountains, and goats are up there, climbing all over. We don’t need that much food.”
Namjoon eyed him for a while longer, his mouth stuck in a half smile. He seemed surprised, which only made Jimin feel elated with a sense of pride. He could tell tall tales if he wanted to!
“I bet they are collecting moss like no tomorrow, and when they throw it down, it rains.”
“Rain is water, dumbass!” Jimin blurts out, but he starts laughing again when he sees Namjoon’s face, both falling into it until their sides hurt and a moment later, Jimin flops into the grass, staring up into the sky. The moon is visible, a pale silhouette against the hazy blue sky.
“How did you know that, anyway? The river thing.” He looked over at Namjoon, who had flopped down as well. Sweet face. Weird eyes, but there were a lot of similarities as well.
“I read what I can find. There’s texts left in the ruins. Most are just scraps, but sometimes I find whole ones. Some are stories, weird stories, so I don’t know what is true or not. I’m collecting them wherever I go.”
“The texts? Isn’t it heavy?” Jimin looked at Namjoon’s backpack, barely big enough for foraging.
“No, up here.” Namjoon points at his head. “But I keep a few with me, that I liked too much to leave. Do you… do you want to see them?”
Namjoon looked away sheepishly, a faint pink over his cheeks and ears. Jimin didn’t care for the humans. He didn’t care for what they had done, and he doesn’t care for what they are doing. But this one… it wasn’t a human. It was Namjoon and Namjoon joked with him and they were lying in the grass like young kits and it didn’t feel threatening or cold or weird or foreign. Namjoon was just another person wandering through the forest on a pretty summer afternoon. And Jimin… he was curious, to see what Namjoon deemed worthy to keep in his tiny backpack.
“Okay,” Jimin said softly.
Namjoon’s face lit up in an instant, grabbing his backpack and pulling out papers, thin and fragile, yellow with age, torn and dirty and all stuffed into a book. Jimin knew books, sometimes they found stashes of them in the ruins and used them to make fires. He had never wondered if they were worth more than that, but then… he couldn’t read human. He didn’t think anyone still did.
“These are drawings, look at that! Isn’t that pretty?” Namjoon laid the pages out, some colorful, some black and white, more intricate and detailed than anything Jimin has ever seen. He felt his mouth drop open when his eyes wandered over the pages, his fingers lightly touching. There were pictures of forests looking magical, photos of lakes almost real enough to touch and feel the cool water, and pictures of humans smiling in weird clothes, surrounded by ancient buildings. But one struck his eye, a picture of a snowy mountain top drawn with so much care, surrounded by dark trees. The mountain was gleaming, so bright and majestic.
“So pretty,” Jimin said, feeling it itching under his skin. He wanted to climb it, reach the top just because he could. The air must be magnificent that high up.
“Isn’t it?” Namjoon said, leaning into Jimin’s space to look as well. He was smelling faintly, different than the musk Jimin was used to, and he flinched for a second, but nothing in Namjoon screamed danger. Just… foreign. Weird. Jimin cast another glance at Namjoon again before he went back to the picture. It didn’t matter. He wanted to look more, to keep it all in his head to tell the other’s, tell his little brother and when they were gathering around for his return, he could describe it in perfect detail.
Jimin’s thoughts stopped for a second, when he realized it. What Namjoon was doing. And why.
“I didn’t know humans did things like this.”
“I told you not everything was bad,” Namjoon teased, nudging Jimin’s shoulder.
Jimin did pout at that but he decided it wasn’t worth a retort. He was still carding through the pictures, enjoying a glimpse into something he was unlikely to see again.
“I think that could be embroidered,” Jimin said, pointing to one that was more easy lines, not that unlike the art they painted on their buildings and put on their bags and clothes. A bit more intricate, maybe, but he knew what his cousins could do. He had never been good with a needle or fingerpaint, but he was always ready to admire.
They looked for a while longer until Namjoon pulled the book closer, opening it on a marked up page covered in writing. It looked… hand written. Nothing Jimin had ever seen.
“Did… did you write that?”
Namjoon looked down, as if he wasn’t sure what to find in his own book, but when he looked up again the pink had returned. “Yeah. To keep notes of what I find.”
Jimin frowned, leaning in to get a closer look. How peculiar.
“And what did you find?” He reached out, rubbing over the page. It felt a bit different, the letters slightly raised, and when he took his hand back to smell it smelled metallic. He wasn’t sure what to make of it.
“Uhm, this is one of their stories. I think it sounds pretty. It made me… I don’t know. I kept thinking about it. I thought maybe you’d like to hear it?”
He sounded small and uncertain and it was endearing, skittish like a little bunny. Jimin’s immediate reaction was of course to tell him he didn’t care about human stuff like that, but… he was also curious. Namjoon was full of surprises. So he nodded, sitting down comfortably when Namjoon cleared his throat, fingers pointing to the line he wanted to read.
“Had I the heavens’ embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.”
There was something to the melody of the words that put Jimin in a trance. He couldn’t quite make it out, a bit like the songs their elders sang, melancholic, without taking the words in. “Again,” Jimin whispered. “Read it again.”
So Namjoon did, looking up at Jimin with wide eyes when he finished the second time. Waiting, anxiously, for a reaction.
“What does it mean?” Jimin finally asked. “It sounds so sad.”
“It does, doesn’t it?” Namjoon said, letting his fingers linger on the writing. “I think it’s about someone wanting to do everything for another person, hoping that that person would appreciate it.”
“Yeah?” Jimin said, letting the words run through his mind. “It doesn’t make sense. No one can step on a dream.”
“I don’t think it’s meant like that. More like… I shared this intimate thing with you, and I hope you know that it’s precious, even if it is just… words.” He didn’t look at Jimin at that, fumbling with his fingers in his lap and Jimin wondered if he just did the same. Sharing something he held dear with someone so dismissive-
“Words are powerful,” Jimin said. “Our elders always say… they say that words can make things evil, and other things good. They use a lot of words that don’t make much sense in the prayers, you know? And those work, so. This human…” Jimin taps the book, lightly, making it sway in Namjoon’s loose grip. “This human was maybe praying as well. It sounded like it. I don’t know, it sounded so good how the words fit together? And they were praying for love, no? I like that.”
Jimin took his hand back, and Namjoon was quiet for a long moment before he closed the book and put it away.
“Thank you,” he mumbled, and even though it didn’t really make sense, Jimin knew what he was thankful for.
I won’t tread on your dreams, he thought, bumping into Namjoon’s shoulder as well.
Namjoon stayed with him for the rest of Jimin’s trip. He was teaching Namjoon about the local plants, about mushrooms good to eat and nuts and seeds and berries. Namjoon didn’t eat greens, but he ate meat, which was something Jimin couldn’t stomach. Thankfully he didn’t hunt but stuck to his rations, something with fat and meat inside that smelled funky.
Jimin was good at noticing things in their vicinity, animals, rough terrain, a good spot for mushrooms and berries. Namjoon on the other hand was constantly stumbling over roots or flopping against bushes, but he was full of stories. He told Jimin he was a good trapper as well, but Jimin didn’t need a demonstration. He decided Namjoon had to have some survival instincts, after all he was still alive. He even occasionally found something to eat first.
And it was nice, listening to Namjoon’s soothing voice, hearing songs he didn’t know and stories that made him think longer than he cared to admit, when he was lying down at night, Namjoon breathing steadily next to him. He wondered how the humans had managed to mess everything up so much, if they were like this. Had they been like this? They couldn’t all have been like Namjoon, soft and up in his head, full of dreams. If he had horns they would have messed up the clouds.
So when they reached Jimin’s village after a few days, he didn’t think much of it. Namjoon was obviously a good human, and not a threat. The other’s would like him, and Jimin’s confidence made Namjoon agree to tagging along.
“I don’t want to be a bother,” he said, “you probably prefer to stay on your own.”
“It’s fine, you’re not moving in. And we all love stories! I mean they are all about humans, but I liked them, so it’s fine.”
“I have my own food,” Namjoon added, fumbling with the strap of his backpack. As if that was the problem. But Namjoon didn’t seem to realize that being tall and carnivorous, that being human was the problem.
“That’s good, Namjoon. Come on, not much further.”
So when they arrived, and a small crowd had formed around them, Jimin didn’t waste any time.
“This is Namjoon,” Jimin introduced him. Namjoon did his best to look unthreatening, tinier than he was, but it was hard since he towered over everyone.
“Hello,” Namjoon said, waving slightly, but he was fidgety and he smelled scared. And wasn’t that ironic? When Jimin had been so wary of the pointy teeth.
“What are you doing here?” one of the aunties asked, unafraid but unwelcoming all the same.
“Just passing through,” Namjoon said, trying to make himself even smaller. It was interesting. So different from his behavior when he had met Jimin.
“We were wandering together while I was foraging. He told me stories and prayers,” Jimin added, giving them all some much needed context.
That… made some of them perk up, and an elder asked him to share a prayer, if he was so inclined. So Namjoon recited the little text about dreams, the one he had repeated over and over for Jimin, still not sick of it. The crowd was murmuring when he was done, shooting shy glances at the weird, tall human while the elder was stroking his beard in contemplation.
“Words are powerful, are they not? Do you need meat?”
Namjoon was taken aback by the sudden question, shaking his head. “N… No. No. I don’t need meat. I can eat plants.”
“Good good,” the elder said, a tiny smile on his face. “You can stay. If you want, Namjoon. I’d like to hear more prayers.”
Jimin noticed Namjoon’s stiff posture easing up, but it was peculiar when Jimin felt the relief running through his own body.
“I told you,” Jimin whispered, taking Namjoon’s hand and leading him to his home.
Namjoon didn’t have a hard time charming his way into everyone’s heart, and somehow, it made Jimin feel… proud? He had found that weird human, with his drawings and stories and soft voice who was so high up above everyone else. It made Jimin giggle when he realized that not only did he entertain everyone with the tales he had found on his travels, with prayers the elders could study, but he was also immediately recruited to help in building projects, since he could reach easier. And he was strong, stronger than Jimin had expected. After just a few days, it almost felt like he belonged.
“So when’s he gonna leave?” Jimin’s father asked, munching on their dinner. Jimin had been lost in thoughts, working on a little gift for Namjoon, and he looked at his father for a second before he had collected his thoughts again.
“Uhm, I don’t know? He didn’t say. It’s still summer, so.” He shrugged, shaking away the unpleasant feeling that suddenly overcame him. “Why?”
“He’s a traveler, and not even a goat. I’m sure he’s bored soon,” Jimin’s father said, completely unbothered.
“Ah but he has such a nice voice, doesn’t he? I could listen to him for hours!” Jimin’s mother started laughing, her whole body shaking, but Jimin couldn’t quite join it. He didn’t know what it was, but he was suddenly not feeling hungry anymore. Of course Namjoon would eventually leave, but was there a point in contemplating it already?
“The most interesting people I meet when I’m foraging are deer,” Jimin’s little brother said with an eyeroll. “They only like pranks, don’t think anyone knows a single prayer.”
“They just like teasing you,” Jimin said, bumping into his brother’s shoulder, but he wasn’t quite in it. He didn’t even notice his mother’s knowing gaze when he didn’t join in with the bickering about the deer people. Or when he left a bit early, to work on the embroidery he had started, on a huge shirt, and his fingers achy and full of needle pricks. Nobody was leaving yet. It didn’t matter.
So when Namjoon joined him later, after his own dinner, Jimin decided not to listen to his heavy heart but enjoy the time as it was.
“Hello,” Namjoon said when he ducked into the room. He couldn’t quite stand up, but it was wide enough to lie down and he was already used to Jimin. And Jimin was already used to chatter with him until his eyes dropped.
“Good evening,” Jimin said with a polite bow, pushing his embroidery to the side. “How was your day, kind gentleman?”
Namjoon snorted, clumsily sitting down. “What? Am I a nobleman now?”
Jimin put his head to the side, frowning. “What is a nobleman?”
“Oh, not important,” Namjoon waved it away. “Just the way you talked…”
“Taehyung talks like that,” Jimin said, falling into a grin. “He sounds all weird but it’s fun. I think he learned it from a horse a while ago. ‘s nothing, really, just stupid.”
“It’s not stupid. What are you doing?” He pointed at the shirt, and Jimin pushed it behind him even further.
“Nothing. Is the new storage done already? I saw you working on it earlier.”
Namjoon tried to get a look at the shirt, but when he noticed Jimin’s agitation, he simply smiled and let it be. “Yeah, I think tomorrow? There’s another building that had been damaged by a storm, I think, I’ll help with that afterwards.”
“Be careful or you’ll be recruited as the new architect.”
Namjoon chuckled, but he didn’t seem particularly fazed. He leaned back, against the wall, rubbing his shoulder against it as if it was itchy. There were really not that many differences, Jimin liked to scratch his back too.
“It’s fine, just one more. I’m glad to help, and it’s fun, being around you all. I think… uhm, I think I’ll leave after the midsummer fest.”
He didn’t quite meet Jimin’s eyes, and that was good. Because he felt as if his heart had stopped for a second, and it was such an unpleasant feeling that he grimaced.
“Oh?” was all he said, trying not to look too upset. There was no reason. The human wasn’t going to stay with the goats, that had never been an option. “Well, uhm, good timing. If you go further east there’s good spots to stay for the winter. Lot’s of forest.”
“Good to know,” Namjoon said, and finally looked at Jimin. He didn’t seem too happy either. “I’m gonna mi-“
“No,” Jimin interrupted him. “Midsummer, that’s still quite a few days. It’s one of the best holidays, we sing and dance a lot. I’m sure you’ll like it.”
“Yeah. I wanted to see it.” He rubbed over his head, and an unpleasant quiet fell over them, for long enough that Jimin was starting to get antsy.
“Tell me something new, then. If you are going to leave. I already know the dream one too well.”
Namjoon was stuck for a moment, but he realized that it was an offer, a wish. Not the time to say goodbye yet. So he grabbed his backpack, pulled his overcrowded book out and looked through it for a long while, until he found something he liked. Jimin quickly moved over, sitting down next to him, pressed against Namjoon’s side. He was so big and bulky, warm. And Jimin wanted to see the scribbles, the ones that meant so much, that Namjoon was following with so much ease.
“This one, uhm, I think it’s pretty. It doesn’t quite… sing like the other one, but I like to imagine that… that people have been like this always. Since the beginning. Okay.”
Sometimes I wonder
What life would be like
If we had never met
If we never collided in this lifetime
Or learned what the curve
Of each other’s face felt like
Who would I be if I had never held your hand
Who would I be if I had never been loved by you
Namjoon let the words linger, and Jimin ached, his chest hurting like he had never felt it before. He pushed himself up, needing the space just to breathe. Namjoon let him be, but when Jimin looked up again, he was determined. Reaching out to Namjoon, he carefully, softly, touched the side of his face, letting his fingertips linger for a long moment, before he let them slip down, to his chin, holding on for an infinite second before they fell, down down into his lap, tingling as if they had been burnt.
“Now you,” Jimin said, and Namjoon, with his deep eyes, so weird and different, held his gaze as if he was reading Jimin’s mind, and his big, strong, delicate hand reached out. Jimin’s breath stopped the moment Namjoon touched him, and his eyes tried to follow the curve of Namjoon’s hand, so warm, rough, but barely touching him, taking their time to trace Jimin’s cheekbone, his nose until they hit his lips, a perfect arch mapped by him, lingering on the plumpness of his lower lip until the fingers dropped down to his chin, tapping it once, twice, before letting go.
And Jimin gasped.
“I uh… I think…” Jimin looked away, suddenly feeling hot and cold all over, unable to still look into Namjoon’s eyes. “I forgot something,” he pressed out before he ran out of the room, outside until he found the old oak tree and climbed up in a few swift hops. Only then, when he felt sufficiently hidden he dared to breathe out. He had no idea what had just happened, what had made him do that but his heart was hammering in his chest and he felt like he couldn’t breathe, like he was burning and he hated it but-
Namjoon probably thought he was crazy. Or he thought that’s how goats acted, erratic and nonsensical. He buried his face in his hands before he held on to his horns and leaned his whole head between his legs, groaning. Embarrassing. That’s what it had been. But the line in the poem, it had sounded… like Namjoon had chosen it for them. How could he forget what Namjoon’s face felt like if he never tried touching it! It had all seemed so logical in that moment. And now… Jimin groaned again, pressing his head even harder against his knees. He couldn’t go back. What would he even say?
So he decided to stay in the tree until it was completely dark outside, and the only noises he could hear were insects and small critters. Safe to return and get some sleep. But when he stepped back into his bedroom, trying his best to barely touch the floor, he stopped when he noticed the moonlight shining on Namjoon’s sleeping face. He looked so peaceful, harmless even. His face not so different from Jimin’s, but even if… he could see the scary teeth and the weird eyes, he didn’t mind. Jimin sat down in front of him and softly moved some of the hair away. It fell back and Namjoon’s nose twitched, before he shook lightly and opened his eyes.
Jimin froze, unsure what to do. But Namjoon only squinted, stretching his long limbs before he rolled into a more comfortable position to look at him.
“Hey,” he said softly. “Better?”
“I wasn’t bad,” Jimin snapped, his voice almost breaking. He cleared his throat and flopped down, making it clear that he intended to sleep.
It was quiet for a long moment when Namjoon whispered “Did you like the poem?” and it sounded so guarded, vulnerable, a voice so different from what Jimin had heard before.
“I did,” Jimin whispered back. He rolled over after a moment of hesitation, looking at Namjoon, at the gray, unreal shapes his face had turned into in the moonlight. “I think it fits. Us.” His eyes wandered down, the line of Namjoon’s face, his soft lips, his chin dipping into nothingness in the dark. He bit his lip. “Goodnight,” he said in a breath and closed his eyes, hard enough to hurt.
The next few days passed in a haze. They didn’t mention the incident again, the poem that had caused it, though it didn’t stop running through Jimin’s mind anyway. He wondered if Namjoon had been impacted by it at all. He didn’t look like it, smiling and building and telling stories in the evening as if nothing had ever happened. And Jimin… he was still working on the shirt, despite his doubts that it was appreciated. Namjoon had probably picked the poem since it was so similar to the dream one, and Jimin was making something out of nothing, as if he was still a young kid with his head in the clouds!
“Ow!” Jimin quickly put his finger in his mouth, checking the fabric for blood but it was still pristine. He wasn’t good at sewing and he didn’t know why he even bothered and -
With a long sigh he grabbed the needle again. It wasn’t in his nature to be so dramatic. He could only do his best and that was exactly what he was going to do!
And when Namjoon came back later, smelling like dry grass and telling him all about the things he had learned that day… he realized that fretting wasn’t a viable option. He should use the last few days to make memories instead.
“What’s this?” Namjoon eyed Jimin curiously from where he sat on the floor, his notebook open in his lap. He had scribbled something in it, and the scratchy sound of his pen had been a nice background noise.
“Hm?” Jimin looked over his shoulder, ripped out of his thoughts. “What?”
“That,” Namjoon pointed. “Doesn’t look like the clothes you usually wear.”
Jimin snorted, turning around fully and trying to hold up the robe so Namjoon could see properly. “It’s for the midsummer fest. We wear it to dance, and it sparkles and flows and it looks really pretty!”
He held it out for Namjoon to touch, who let his big fingers glide delicately over it, humming in appreciation. “It’s so light. Did you make this?” Namjoon’s fingers stopped at one of the embroideries, a long, colorful band running down the front. Jimin felt the heat rush up to his face, and his ears dropped immediately, but he decided to ignore it.
“No, I’m not, uh, that good with it. One of my aunties made it, for my yearday.”
“Birthday?”
“Is… is that what humans call it?” Jimin looked puzzled. It sounded odd, but… it made sense.
“Yeah. The day you were born. I think humans always liked celebrating it, I saw it in texts all over the centuries!”
Jimin put the robe down, going back to looking for stray threads or insect damage. It also hid his face that was probably revealing too much lately. “I like that. We… we don’t like humans. You know that.” He shrugged. “I mean you humans eat meat and you are so tall and you broke so many things but you also… I know humans made us in some way. I don’t quite understand it and I don’t think the stories the elders tell us are true. And we know there was a war, between us, a long one.”
“I know,” Namjoon said. “I… read about it as well.”
Jimin shrugged again. “But you are not like that! And I think… I think we might have more in common than we realized. Like, humans celebrated the same things we did, and I think… it feels nice, in a way? I don’t think humans tried to sew a goat and a human together, I don’t think anyone made little statues of clay and baked them in a special oven, that’s all ridiculous. But what… what if humans created us because they wanted to share the nice things they had? I don’t think it was all bad.”
Namjoon was quiet for a long time, watching Jimin snipping and mending away and when he talked, his voice was so deep and low Jimin’s ears perked up unintentionally.
“I don’t think so, either. But a lot was.” He reached out, rubbing over Jimin’s ear who giggled from the sensation. “You know, I like learning about the old times. I come from a village like this one. And it was a bit like with you, right? We also hate the old humans. The ones who broke the world. But I thought if we are capable of loving and singing and creating, they had to as well. And so I went and looked for it.”
“And you found it,” Jimin said, looking up but Namjoon’s eyes were away, gazing into the far corner.
“Yes. But I also found all the reasons the hatred exists in the first place. And…” He swallowed, and it sounded loud in the quiet room. Jimin’s whole focus was on him, hanging on his words. All they had talked about had painted the humans in a good light and he had unconsciously… reworked his image of them in his mind. They were all like Namjoon, clumsy and kind and open hearted. He wasn’t sure he wanted Namjoon to continue.
“Well I decided that if I want to conserve the last remnants, then it will be the things that touch me. That make me feel like not everything we did before now was… horrible.”
Jimin pushed his robe to the side, and held his arms open, and Namjoon only hesitated for the shortest second before he sank into Jimin’s arms.
“You are the only human I care about,” Jimin whispered. “Your stories are the only ones that matter. To all the goats in this village, and all the hybrids that visit us. Even the stupid deer.” He laughed, his hand so tiny on Namjoon’s broad back, but he felt strong. Namjoon made himself so small, and it felt right for Jimin to protect him, even if it was only from his own head.
“I would have never seen those beautiful pictures or heard all those stories that made me think for days if it wasn’t for you. We all know the old times were bad, we can see it everywhere, but it shouldn’t be the only thing we remember, right? Sometimes I wonder what life would be like if we never collided in this lifetime.”
“You remembered,” Namjoon said, slowly detangling himself. Jimin wanted to stop him, but it had to be uncomfortable.
“Of course I did,” Jimin said. “It’s beautiful.” He reached out, cupping Namjoon’s cheek, before he let his hand fall back down. “So I think you had the right idea. You’re not really scary.” He peeked at Namjoon, but the sour mood seemed to have gone, because Namjoon started smiling so wide it was almost alarming. Almost, if it wasn’t for the pretty shine in his eyes.
“You were scared of me?” Namjoon teased. “I thought you’d impale me! Look at those horns!”
“I can’t impale you with them,” Jimin said indignantly. “I didn’t say anything, but I can still headbutt you!”
Namjoon was giggling, leaning back and not at all worried that Jimin would follow through. Instead, he went back to his little book, scribbling a few more words and Jimin… his eyes lingered longer on him than they should. Wondering, for the first time, if it wouldn’t be nice to have a little room only for yourself, thoughts only you could decipher, before he went back to finish the mending on his robe.
For all the excitement, the dancing and the singing, the food so plentiful and the night so short, it all ended in a blur. Jimin had danced until his legs had hurt, and laughed so much his ears were tingling. He had looked out for Namjoon, easy to spot, but the fest had always been overwhelming in the best way and maybe Jimin had indulged a bit too much in all the drinks that usually weren’t handed out quite so generously. They had barely talked, and the next day was spent mostly in recuperating, so when Namjoon said he’d leave the next morning, Jimin… had almost forgotten.
“Oh,” was all he said. “I’ll see you off, then.”
And despite still being a bit tender and so tired, sleep did evade him until Namjoon was already snoring softly.
It felt like a fever dream, standing at the edge of the village. The elders had already said their goodbyes, everyone else who had found a moment to wish the strange human a good journey, until only Jimin was left. His present felt like a boulder in his arms, and he wasn’t sure what to say, to do!
“I guess I’ll get going then,” Namjoon said, a bit hesitant himself.
“You don’t have to,” Jimin immediately blurted out, not even trying to pretend he didn’t care. “Everyone likes you. It’s nice here. I-“
“Jimin. I won’t be happy if I stay in one place. I know that. But that doesn’t mean I will never visit again, right?” He smiled, but it looked a bit sad and he seemed to struggle with something to say when Jimin lifted the package and held it out to him.
“Take this, then. It’s for you.” He didn’t dare to look into his eyes, not until Namjoon had removed the scrap fabric covering it and held the shirt open. It had a moon embroidered in the middle, surrounded by flowers. It was a bit messy and rough, but he was still proud and absolutely anxious about Namjoon’s reaction.
“Jimin,” he said softly, slowly letting the shirt sink down. ”I wondered why your fingers looked a mess…”
“It’s nothing,” Jimin said, quickly hiding his hands. “I wanted to give you something, to remember. You know, the goats on the moon climbing the mountains while the humans eat the cheese?”
“I remember,” Namjoon said with a giggle.
“And the flowers, I tried to make them look like in your pictures. They only had a few lines but were so pretty.” He grabbed the shirt to pull it straight so Namjoon could take a better look. “Do you… like it?”
“Yes,” Namjoon said immediately. “This is… yeah. I will wear it every day! Or… I should probably…”
Jimin laughed at that, and it made Namjoon relax as well. “It was made for wearing! It’s not a robe! I just… wanted to make something you could remember. I’m not that good with words, so I wrote something down in my own way.”
Namjoon looked at him for so long that Jimin got shy, but Namjoon didn’t let him, tipping against Jimin’s chin until he looked up again.
“I don’t have anything for you,” Namjoon said, apologetic. “I hope you… can take this as a keepsake.” He leaned down, and when his lips touched Jimin’s, he felt like jumping out of his skin, his eyes wide and every instinct in his body screaming at him to run away, until he remembered who it was, and he closed his eyes, whining into the kiss, his hands digging into Namjoon’s arms.
When Namjoon moved back, Jimin looked at him in desperation. How could he leave, just like that?
Namjoon pushed a piece of hair back from Jimin’s face, his fingers rubbing over Jimin’s ear before he straightened up again. “Oh, maybe… you could take this one…” He quickly dug his book out of his backpack, browsing through the pages until he found what he was looking for. The picture of the mountain.
“You liked this one, right? Take it.”
Jimin stared at him with wide eyes, taking the picture, careful not to break it. “Oh,” he said, looking at the beautiful mountain displayed in so many vivid colors. “But… it’s yours! You found it!”
“And now I want you to have it. I think it’s in good hands with you.” He rolled the shirt up and put it in his bag, and just when he was done, Jimin jumped up, held on around Namjoon’s neck and kissed him again.
“Don’t forget me,” he said, and Namjoon, who’s first instinct had been to hold on to Jimin, to not let him fall, pressed another tiny kiss on Jimin’s lips.
“Not in this lifetime.” He let him down gently, rubbing over one of Jimin’s horns who didn’t even feel it in him to tell him to back off, and with that… with one last smile, one last wave, he turned around and was gone.
And Jimin exhaled, wondering where all the air had come from so deep inside his chest.
1 year later
The sound was unlike anything Jimin had ever heard before, and he peered down from his spot on the tree, hidden well behind the leaves. That was until he saw the cause of the noise and he looked over to his cousin who had warily stopped collecting nuts as well, a bright smile on his face.
“It’s Namjoon!”
Jimin jumped down from the tree with so much vigor that Namjoon screamed, trying to stop the thing he was sitting on and falling off onto the soft forest floor.
“Namjoon, you’re back!” Jimin ran over, flopping down as well to hug him and only then realized that Namjoon was groaning.
“Are you okay?”
“Almost killed me,” Namjoon said, but he was laughing when he tried to get his bearings back. “You shouldn’t jump out of trees, it’s dangerous!”
Jimin only laughed, helping Namjoon to remove the leaves that stuck to him. And with glee he noticed that he was wearing the shirt, the moon visible under his second layer. Only when Namjoon leaned down to pick up the thing that had made the weird noise, was Jimin reminded of his initial wariness.
“What’s that? What does it do?”
Namjoon checked the thing before he swung his leg over it and sat down. “It’s a bicycle. I found descriptions of it, and pictures, and when I found parts that looked correct I built this one myself. Hop on!”
Jimin was a bit skeptical, but he climbed on the back, his hooves steady on the small platform, and held on to Namjoon’s shoulders.
“Careful now,” Namjoon said, and pushed them away, his legs moving the thing fast over the forest floor and all Jimin could do was giggle in delight while he heard his cousin screaming behind them.
“Oh, this is wonderful! Can you go faster?”
And Namjoon did, with all his might, hitting the thing over and over until they rolled down a hill, shaking like crazy but Jimin wasn’t deterred, feeling the wind blowing his ears around his head but all he could do was laugh until they eventually became slower again and stopped. Namjoon was panting hard, but he was flushed and pretty and smiling so sweetly that Jimin couldn’t help himself. He kissed him, and this time it wasn’t a fleeting thing, it wasn’t short and desperate, he let it linger and held on, not inclined to move away until he felt satisfied.
When he did, Namjoon was still out of breath, but his lips were red and he huffed, looking at Jimin with a sweetly lost face.
“That’s one way to say hello again,” Namjoon said, and Jimin let him go at last, flopping down onto the soft ground.
“Says you, I thought a predator was coming.”
“Only me,” Namjoon said, leaning his head to the side. “How are you?”
Jimin shrugged, his hands playing idly with a piece of moss. “As usual. And you?”
“I found something, and I was in the area anyway. I thought I should visit and show it to you.”
“What is it?” Jimin said, immediately trying to figure out what could be more interesting than the moving thing.
“Uhm, another poem.” He grabbed his book, a bit thicker, a bit more worn, and noticed a spot that had been marked for easy access. Jimin felt his heart beating, the last poem still vivid in his mind, everything left unsaid between them.
“
Love
Is a ripe plum
Growing on a purple tree.
Taste it once
And the spell of its enchantment
Will never let you be.
Love
Is a bright star
Glowing in far Southern skies.
Look too hard
And its burning flame
Will always hurt your eyes.
Love
Is a high mountain
Stark in a windy sky.
If you
Would never lose your breath
Do not climb too high.“
Namjoon cleared his throat. “The last part, reminded me of you. Unafraid on that steep wall.”
“And what does this one mean,” Jimin asked, rubbing over his chest to make his heart stop.
“Uhm, I think that love is so powerful that it can hurt. You have to be careful.”
“Are you careful?” Jimin asked, his eyes lingering on the lines in the book that meant so much.
“I don’t think so,” Namjoon said, looking apologetic again.
“Good,” was all that Jimin muttered, before he pulled Namjoon in again, and this time, Namjoon was just as eager not to let Jimin go.
In the end, it was a decision made outside of their power. The silly human had met so many hybrids, and he told Jimin about all of them, but there was only one lingering on in his thoughts.
“I knew I was a mess when I watched you at the midsummer fest. You were like a little sun twirling around with those cute bells on your horns.”
Jimin blushed, but he felt warmth from the compliment. He had always considered himself pretty in his robes and knowing that he had been observed… it felt good. “It was that poem. Who would I be if I had never been loved by you. I, uh, I ran away. That was it.”
“Oh my,” Namjoon said, giggling. “I chose that one because I meant it, I wouldn’t want to have missed meeting you. I didn’t think quite that far.”
Jimin blushed even more furiously when Namjoon started to laugh heartily, but there was no menace in it. “I mean I didn’t want to admit it but I kinda guessed what happened when you wanted to touch my face.”
“Ugh,” was all Jimin said. “Anyway, so the wheely thing, I think we can make it better. Faster.”
“Ah, I never should have shown this to you…” Namjoon muttered, but he let Jimin ramble on and on about improvements, while they walked slowly through the forest, warm and damp in the late summer sun, and Jimin with his own little backpack with a book inside, not quite able to scribble yet but eager to draw whatever caught his eye.
The end.