Archive of Our Own

My dearest love,

Today I set sail for America. I am hopeful that this trip will be a fairly short one, if the waters are kind and the winds on our side. As I write this, the crew are busy loading the goods we will be trading once we reach the shores - rice, cotton, grains, so many barrels and crates that I pray the ship is not too weighed down to sail swiftly. 

I have traversed this route countless times by now, but this trip is slightly different. In addition to our usual wares, we also have a traveler on board. It is most unusual for sure, but this man, Park Jimin-ssi, is apparently in need of immediate transport to the west and unable to wait for the next passenger ship to depart from Busan. Somehow, he has convinced my boss to not only allow him on board, but he has also given him the captain’s quarters, my quarters, which he has quickly filled with countless cases of luggage. Knowing my boss, I’m sure it was money that persuaded him to agree. 

I only wish I had been asked first, instead of being told I would be sleeping in the crew’s quarters. Some of them snore like demons. 

Yet I will endure their ghastly noises, beloved. Because with this trip, I will finally have enough money to pay off my debts and be released from this dreadful ship that always takes me too far away from you. And with the money leftover, we will be able to purchase that lot of land we found near the mountains. I am already dreaming of our future, my heart - I can hear the laughter of our little ones as they run about the house that we shall build together. But more than that, I am simply dreaming of holding you in my arms again. 

It may seem like folly, but I shall endeavor to write to you frequently while this ship carries me further and further from where my heart lies. Once I reach port, I will send the letters back with the next ship leaving. And then after a few days in San Francisco, I shall speed back to you with the quickness of the sea gods themselves, and deliver on every promise that I make here to you. 

Wait for me, my love. Our future will be here soon. 

Love always,
Your Yoongi

**********

My darling love,

The first three days have passed in the blink of an eye and we are now on open waters, with Busan completely out of sight. Thus far, this trip is just like every other before it, the rhythm of the daily routine settling into place like a well-worn machine, crew snapping to every task with an energy that I only pray that they can maintain as time drifts on. 

While the men have fallen back into their usual comradery, their shouts a delightful cacophony that echoes up and down the deck, there has been a marked silence from the captain’s quarters. Our sole traveler kept to himself the first two days, sealed away in his room, not even answering when our cook Seokjin knocked to bring him his meals. But when the sun dipped below the horizon yesterday, he emerged, begging forgiveness for ignoring our attempts at engaging him. He informed me that he suffers from a debilitating seasickness that only abates at night, so he must sleep during the day or else be violently ill. 

I will try to describe him for you, but I fear that my meager words will not suffice. Park Jimin-ssi is not much taller than I am, with a frame not too dissimilar from my own. He dresses in the Western style, wearing suits in rich colors that have been tailored perfectly to fit his slender frame, shrouding himself from the chill of the night air in capes of the finest velvet. He is exceedingly pale, nearly as luminous as the moon herself, with dark hair that frames a handsome face. Truly, he resembles nothing less than an angel who has stepped out of the frame of one of those paintings you love so much, my heart. One might think it rather odd that he chooses to cover himself in fabrics of the darkest reds and purples instead of the purest white. Ah, but I suppose that’s just my lack of appreciation for the finer things, as you are always saying. 

Maybe during this trip, I will bend his ear for some fashion advice, and then show up at your door in a few weeks’ time cloaked in the finest suit the tailors in America have to offer. Wouldn’t that be a surprise!

I will take my leave now, as it is nearly time for dinner. I will write you again soon. 

Love always,
Your Yoongi

**********

Treasured one,

Again the sun rises. It does not seem right to be sailing away from it, nor from you, and yet here I am. I must continuously remind myself of what lies ahead of us, and not dwell on the rest.

Park Jimin-ssi graciously invited me to join him for a drink after the evening meal last night. You would probably enjoy the way he has made himself at home in my former room. It hardly looks like a captain’s quarters anymore, stuffed with so many pieces of luxurious furniture that it more resembles a pleasure vessel used by the old princes of the west - what I think they now call ‘yachts.’  A full wall has been turned into an open wardrobe, from which he chooses his suits each day. 

The whisky that he offered me was the finest I’ve ever had the pleasure of drinking. I can still taste the smoky spices on my tongue as I write this letter. I can’t imagine it’s something I could afford now, but perhaps one day, when we have something to celebrate, I will buy us a bottle, my love. I know that you claim most whisky to be vile, but I think this was sweet enough that even you would like it. 

Of course, it’s not as sweet as you.

I only had one glass, but it was enough to set my head spinning a little as Jimin-ssi and I spoke. He’s a very charming fellow, and I think that perhaps even if I had been sober, he still would’ve been able to draw conversation out of me - a feat which you of all people know is not easy to do! He has a warm air about him, and a kind smile, as well.

Listen to me, talking like you and your sister do whenever I bring Hoseok with me for a visit. Yes, I know how the two of you fawn over his dashing good looks! I don’t mind, beloved, for while he may have your eye, I know I have your heart.

Love always,
Your Yoongi

**********

Precious one,

I wonder how your day was today. I hope it was a good one, filled with nothing but joy. Mine was the same as yesterday, and the day before. Which is not a complaint, to be sure - another unremarkable day passing is always a good thing when you’re a sailor. 

Hoseok has even noted that if we continue to have favorable winds like we’ve had so far, we might be able to knock a day off of our expected travel time. His calculations as sailing master have never let me down, so if he says it’s possible, then I believe it is. Wouldn’t that be a lovely treat? 

In any case, I am in high spirits as we continue our journey across the sea. The crew remains full of cheer as well. I heard several of them singing like songbirds as they set about their duties this morning, and though the lyrics they sang were a bit bawdy, the overall mood of the ship was light and gay all the while. Maybe tomorrow I will ask them to teach me the words, so that I may join in. 

We shall see. 

Love always,
Your Yoongi

*****

Yoongi finishes signing his name, then folds the letter into his writing journal and tucks the book into his coat’s inner pocket. He leans against the bulwark of the ship, staring out at the never-changing horizon. What he’d give to see shore right now.

The moon dips behind a passing cloud, and a shiver passes through Yoongi as a cold breeze kicks up. He draws his coat about him tighter before he discovers he’s not alone. 

“Good evening, Jimin-ssi,” Yoongi intones politely, nodding at the other man. 

“Good evening, Captain,” Jimin replies. He’s draped in a black velvet cloak tonight, the luscious material wrapped around his lithe frame as he joins Yoongi, resting his hands on the side of the ship. “I hope I’m finding you well.” 

Yoongi nods. “Was your evening meal satisfactory tonight?” He knows that Seokjin’s been doing his best to cope with an unexpected passenger - one accustomed to the finest meals, not the standard grub that Yoongi and his men are resigned to eating. 

“Yes, thank you. Please let your cook know that I appreciate his work. I’m sure my presence has disrupted things quite a bit for him,” Jimin says, like he’s reading Yoongi’s mind. He has a knack for doing that, Yoongi’s found. 

“I’ll let him know. But please, do not worry yourself about the crew. They’re good men, they all know how to roll with the punches.” Yoongi pauses. “But do let me know if any of them bother you or do anything to make your time on the ship unpleasant.” 

The clouds disappear as Jimin smiles. For a moment, Yoongi has the strangest sense of déjà vu. There’s something so familiar about the way Jimin looks at him, face glowing in the soft moonlight, that it makes his stomach twist slightly, knotting up with a feeling he knows but can’t quite name. Maybe it’s just a trick of the light, bringing to mind a different moment, a different person looking at him with the same expression. 

Whatever it is, it fades as Jimin turns away, clearing his throat slightly. Yoongi blinks, feeling his face heat, knowing he was staring at the other man. A silence settles over the two of them, not uncomfortable, but deep as the ocean itself. So vast that Yoongi startles a little when the other man finally speaks again.

“Did I see you writing in a journal as I approached, Captain?” 

“Ah, no, that was a letter that I was writing. To my fiancée.” 

“Oh, you’re to be married? Congratulations.” Jimin inclines his head slightly. “May I ask her name?” His dark eyes peer inquisitively into Yoongi’s. 

“Young-sook. Her name is Young-sook.” Before he knows it, Yoongi is telling Jimin everything - how they met, when he proposed, how patient she’s been all these years while he’s been at sea, how once he returns to Korea, he’s finally going to marry her. It all comes out quickly, effortlessly, as though Jimin were pulling it out of him by a string - but he hadn’t asked for more than her name. 

He feels then that he’s said too much about himself. “Do you have someone waiting for you? Perhaps in America?” 

Jimin rests his weight on his elbows, eyes focused on the gentle swell of the waves bouncing off the bow of the ship. He’s quiet for a few seconds before he answers. “No. I am afraid that I do not have anyone, in America or Korea or anywhere else. Not anymore.” 

There’s an obvious shift in the man’s countenance as he speaks. It’s like another cloud has obscured the moon. Yoongi suddenly misses the glow. He regrets asking, and rushes to apologize. “I’m sorry, Jimin-ssi, I do not mean to pry.” 

“No, it’s all right. It’s only polite to ask.” Jimin draws his cape closer around himself. “I did have someone once. A long time ago. But I was traveling, and a band of… thieves ransacked my home, stealing some of my family’s fortunes. They - they left no one alive.” His hand passes over his face as Yoongi stares steadfastly into the sea. “We were not married, but near enough. More than, actually - I felt like I lost a part of myself that day.” 

“I’m sorry,” Yoongi repeats, knowing that those words from a near stranger likely offer cold comfort. But all he can offer is his condolences.

“They say time heals all wounds,” Jimin says, tone hushed. He shakes his head. “If that is true, then I wonder how many more lifetimes I must endure before my scars finally fade.” 

He speaks like a poet, Yoongi thinks. Such beauty to his words, as exaggerated as they may be. When he catches Jimin’s gaze, he’s struck by the immense sadness shrouding his eyes. Yoongi hums, unsure of what to say, and is relieved when the other man sighs and draws himself upright. 

“I apologize, Captain - you did not ask for any of that.” Inhaling deeply, he smiles. “I think I’ve had more than enough fresh air for the evening. I shall retire to my quarters, and leave you to your watch.” 

Yoongi bows his head. “Thank you for the company, Jimin-ssi. As always, I have enjoyed our time together.” 

Something flashes in Jimin’s eyes and Yoongi feels that uncanny sense of recognition again - but then just as quickly, it’s gone. And so is Jimin, leaving Yoongi standing in the gentle salt spray from the waters below, wondering if perhaps he’s had a little too much himself. Sea air plays tricks on the mind. Ancient tales told of sailors who would leap into the ocean, lured by sirens singing promises of love and lust, only to find nothing waiting for them but talons and teeth. 

At least Yoongi would never make such a mistake. 

**********

Sweetest one,

I had the most unusual dream last night. 

I was back in my childhood home, in my bed, though I was a man, not a boy. Rain lashed the windows so loudly that I was startled awake - but a vision clung to me of a figure shrouded in darkness. A dream within a dream, it would seem. As I lay in my bed, I heard a voice calling to me. It was the most melodious voice, dripping so with honey that I could not help but step from my bed to follow it. 

I wandered the hallway for what felt like hours or days, in that strange way that time seems to expand when one is traversing Morpheus’s realm, until I reached the window at the end. The rain still fell, but now lightning lit the sky, and as I gazed through the glass panes, I realized the shadow from my dream-within-a-dream was hovering just on the other side. As I watched in terror, frozen to the spot, the shadow shifted, taking on the shape of a person, with two red bulbs burning where its eyes would be. 

“Yoongi,” it called, a soothing timbre belying the fiery blaze, “Yoongi, you must let me in.” 

And that is when I awoke, covered in sweat, clutching my blanket like a shield. 

I am not the type to examine one’s dreams too deeply, as you know, my dear - I feel my time is better served attending to the pressing matters of the day rather than the reveries of the night. Whatever meaning lies within this haunting vision is beyond my comprehension. 

Yet I cannot shake the image of those red eyes, staring at me as if they mean to pierce my soul. 

It is close enough to dawn now that I might as well rise and start my morning. I shall work hard and try to tire myself enough to sleep soundly tonight. 

And perhaps if I am lucky, I will see you in my dreams tonight. 

Love always,
Your Yoongi

**********

My beautiful love,

It is with a heavy heart that I report that today’s normal routine was shattered by the disappearance of a crew member. Young Jeon Jungkook, who was one of the most talented riggers I’ve ever had the pleasure of working with, did not appear for morning watch as usual. He was not found in the crew’s quarters nor in the kitchen, where he has been known to steal an extra bite or two between watches. After a thorough examination of the ship turned up nothing, we determined he must have fallen overboard sometime during the night. 

As the captain, I bear the burden of the duty to write another letter this afternoon, to his parents back in Busan. I would not admit this to my crew, but I shall tell you, my dear heart, that this loss has shaken me a bit. There are certain dangers you accept when you choose to work on a ship, and it is not uncommon for a crew member to perish in such a manner occasionally. But young Jeon was steady of both hand and foot, climbing the sails easily like a cat scales the high boughs of a tree. I cannot fathom him losing his balance, either on the top mast or on the deck. Yet I suppose he was merely mortal, and we mortals all lose our way now and again. 

Jimin-ssi was rather curious about the incident, asking many questions about what we thought may have happened to poor Jungkook. I can understand this, for if I were a passenger, I too would seek reassurance that I was not in any danger of becoming lost myself. I did my best to assuage his fears, but I could not lie, and told him of the various perils that we face on our journey. He took it all in stride, and thanked me for my honesty.

Despite this tragedy, we continue ever onward, bound for America. I remain hopeful for a safe arrival in just a few weeks’ time. 

Love always,
Your Yoongi

**********

My one true love,

I write to you from the deck, where I am enjoying the most beautiful sunset. It is strange to think that just yesterday, there was such loss, and yet today dawned anew. The ship still glides along towards our destination. Life goes on. 

I hope that does not make me sound callous, dear one. I simply mean to say that, no matter what grief we may bear, time does not stop. We must carry it with us as we go, and learn to live with the weight. 

I only wish that I did not speak from experience. 

But enough of my mauldin musings. There has been some unexpected joy on this journey. Although I have only just met him, Jimin-ssi has become something of a friend to me. It has been such a relief to have someone to confide in during this trip, with all of the disconcerting occurrences that have happened. While you could argue that I have been confiding in you, my dear, with these letters, those have sadly been one-sided conversations (through no fault of your own, loveliest - I am the one who let himself become trapped in this life, not you). 

As much as I admire my crew’s dedication to their work, they do not make for the most interesting companions, I am afraid to say. But fortunately I have my new acquaintance. If you should ever meet Jimin-ssi, I think you should find him just as interesting, dearest. From the stories he tells as we drink together - he is very generous with his liquor - he’s traveled the entire world around and back many times. One should wonder how he has visited so many foreign lands in so short a time! For he has not told me his age, but he looks to be perhaps a little younger than me. 

Of course, living on the seas has roughened my countenance a bit, all these wrinkles and aching joints making me feel like a halabeoji (yes, I have overheard you joking to your sister, beloved - but I do not disagree!), so he might very well be older and simply demonstrating the results of having lived a pampered existence. I do not know, but in any case, he has aided me in staving off the boredom that comes with endless nights on the open sea, and for that, I am grateful.

Though I will be even more grateful once I have returned to Korea and to you, my heart.

Love always,
Your Yoongi

**********

Light of my life,

Did you ever wonder how different our lives would be if we’d never met that day at the shipyard? 

If you hadn’t followed your brother to his work that morning, bringing him the lunch he’d left at home - 

If I hadn’t just arrived back from another trading excursion, bone-weary and ready for a week’s nap - 

If either of us had been looking where we were going and not staring down at our feet - 

Where would we be now?

I am not normally given to contemplating possibilities, but of late I have found myself wondering about fate. Is everything predetermined? Has our love always been part of the plan, part of the paths we’ve walked?

Jimin-ssi laughed when I asked him these questions. Not unkindly, just amusedly. Said he was surprised to hear me ponder about such things - clearly he already knows me too well. But I suppose I am rather uncomplicated to understand. 

So I asked him, do you believe in fate? And he nodded. Of course. 

I do not want to believe in such a thing, I said. I want to think that I am the master of my own destiny. 

And he laughed again, eyes glimmering as he shook his head. You cannot control destiny, he informed me. Yes, you make your choices, you think you are acting on your own volition - but no, you’re just reacting to what fate has chosen for you. In the end, you will end up where you are meant to be. 

How do you know this? I couldn’t help but ask.

He smiled. When you have lived a life as long as mine, you learn. 

I am still trying to tease out the meaning behind his cryptic answer, dear heart. Sometimes he speaks as if he is older than the sea itself. What a curious man he is. 

I do not know where I would be had you not bumped into me on the dock that day. Perhaps I would still be on this damned ship, perhaps not, but of one thing I am certain - I would not know half the happiness that I know now without your love. 

Love always,
Your Yoongi

**********

My sweet love,

Are you missing me as much as I miss you? The hours have begun to drag and I find myself daydreaming frequently of your eyes, your smile, your kiss… ah, how I wish you were here right now, wrapping around me, holding me tight. I miss your touch, beloved. 

…

I had to stop writing for a moment in order to compose myself. Forgive me, dear one. I will be strong, and remember that when this is all over, we shall be together once again. 

The mood on the ship has lightened considerably. The men have even returned to their singing. I swear for a moment this evening that I could hear young Jungkook’s sweet tenor joining the others, calling down from the top sails, but of course it was just an echo of a memory. It is sad to think that we shall never hear his voice again. 

Jimin-ssi commented on the crew’s strong bond tonight. I explained that I hand-picked every member of the crew myself over the years, starting with Hoseok and Seokjin, as you know that we have been friends since we were teenagers. I do my best to treat them all with respect and they do the same for me. 

He said that we reminded him of his own friends, that they were once as close to him as family. Then he fell silent, and I said nothing, not wanting to press. But I believe that he is just as familiar with the heaviness of grief as I am. How I wish that we had something else in common.

Oh, I nearly forgot - Hoseok has asked me to pass along his salutations to your sister. Please be sure to tell her that he has mentioned her several times on this trip - I feel that she would be most pleased to hear this. Between you and me, I think he is very fond of her. I cannot recall the last time I’ve heard him talk about the same woman more than once (please keep that between us as well!). 

Dark clouds have begun to gather, blotting out the moon and making it difficult for me to write here on the deck, so I will end this letter now and retire to the crew’s quarters for the night. If only you were waiting in my bunk for me, darling - oh, but then I would not get any rest!

Love always,
Your Yoongi

**********

My dear heart,

Those clouds I spoke of last night did more than conceal the moon. I awoke at midnight from a clap of thunder and found that the poor night watch crew were dealing with a terrible storm. Between the lashing rain and the whipping wind, they struggled for hours to keep us on course. And though they succeeded in their task, we continue onwards to San Francisco minus another crew member. 

Do you remember Kim Namjoon, our boatswain? I believe I introduced the two of you at the shipyard once. He was a quiet man, took his responsibilities very seriously. Always made sure the sails were rigged properly, the supplies were accounted for, and the watches ran smoothly. His calming presence will surely be missed. 

It had to be the chaos of the storm. Perhaps he was startled by the lightning and slipped on the wet deck. Or maybe when one of the sails came loose, the boom knocked him off his feet and sent him into the dark churning below. No one knows. No one recalls seeing him on the deck at all, but I’m sure he was there. He was always there. He’d never abandon his post. 

Though the clouds linger this morning, covering the sun, the storm has passed, and we sail along on calm waters. We should all feel relieved, but there is a sense of growing unease among the men, hanging thick in the air like fog. One lost crew member is unsettling. Two is disturbing. I fear for what will happen to morale should we lose another. 

I cling to the thought of kissing your sweet lips again. I shall return to you soon.

Love always,
Your Yoongi

**********

Fairest one,

We are near the halfway point of our journey.  Since the storm the other night, the men have been on edge. Every flash of lightning in the distance, every swell of a wave approaching has them alert. As I was preparing myself for my morning, I caught two men discussing the possibility of the ship being cursed. 

You know better than anyone that I of course take no stock in such things. But crews can be superstitious lots, given to ascribing the random uncaring nature of the universe to the supernatural. Ghosts and ghouls, spirits and gods - bad luck is never just bad luck, it’s always the actions of the transmundane. I did not bother to argue, but I did discuss the crew’s beliefs with Jimin-ssi as we ate dinner together tonight. Or, rather, as I ate and he sipped at his wine. Poor man said he has a very small appetite when he sails and cannot eat much or else become dreadfully sick. 

Jimin-ssi - whom I shall henceforth refer to as simply Jimin, as he has asked me to call him - usually does more than his fair share of the talking when we meet, but when I speak, he listens well. He agrees that the crew seems uneasy and too does not seem surprised that they would turn to the supernatural for answers. 

People fear the unknown, he informed me. It sets them ill at ease to know that there are things that they cannot explain. So they reach for the simplest explanations at hand. 

Rather like believing in fate, I countered, which drew a delighted chuckle from Jimin. 

Perhaps, he said, but the difference is that fate is neutral. It is not good or evil. Whereas people usually believe the supernatural to be malevolent - dark forces bearing ill will against them. 

I had laughed at that and remarked that it almost seemed self-aggrandizing, to believe that these all-powerful forces would be conspiring against the lowly crew members of an insignificant ship such as the Magpie. 

To which Jimin replied that a man so pure of heart as myself could never understand the darkness. And I was as flattered as I was confused. For what could a good man like himself possibly know of such things, either? 

I think perhaps the whisky has gone to my head tonight. Also, my neck itches like mad. I fear some bug may have stung me. Ah, love, if only you were here to help me sleep. 

Love always,
Your Yoongi

**********

Beloved heart,

Just had another strange dream. This time, you and I were at the park - the one near the river, where I carved our names into that old tree. A blanket was spread beneath it, and you had set out plates of food and bottles of soju for a midday meal.

Though the world around us was a little hazy, the sunset glow turning the air around us pink and dusty, your face was in sharp focus, and oh, my love, you were so beautiful, just as you are in real life. Smiling, laughing, calling me your precious mandu as you kissed my cheeks - if the dream had ended there, I would’ve awoken the happiest man alive. 

But it did not. And as I reached for you, you drew away, and began to shimmer, as though lit from within. The sky darkened, pink deepening to red, and I glanced at the sun in horror as it suddenly disappeared behind the moon. 

When I looked at you again, you were gone. The figure of a man stood in your place. I did not recognize his face. He laughed at my confusion, eyes squeezing shut in mirth, extending a hand to stroke my face gently, and whispered, “You cannot deny me, Yoongi. You never could.” 

It is so utterly perplexing, my love, that I did not know what was happening or who he was, and yet I knew, with every fiber of my being, that I could not let his gaze meet mine, or I would be lost forever. So as he opened his eyes, I cried out in fear, and opened my own to find myself lying beneath my hammock in the crew’s quarters. I managed to fling myself out of bed in my sleep.

Again, I fail to find an explanation. Perhaps I should start blaming the supernatural for my dreams? Ha, if only it were that simple. 

Perhaps it has something to do with the loss of the crew members. The terrible dread that has begun to seep into my bones as the fear of losing another grows and grows. I do not know. But I desperately wish you were here, to bring me the peaceful slumber that I’ve known in your arms.

Love always,
Your Yoongi

**********

Dearest jagiya,

I believe that I have told you before how we often have stowaways on the ship. Down where the food is stored, it’s common to find a mouse or two feasting away. Occasionally, a bird will make its nest in the masts, and then of course there are the dreadful little bugs that scurry about whenever our footsteps disturb their hiding places. 

But this journey brings a new addition to our collection. My first mate, Taehyung, reports that there are bats hanging from the rafters in the stores of the ship. Several of them, in fact - a tiny cluster of black wings and even blacker eyes. He’s counted at least three, though he swears he only saw two the other day and now a third has suddenly appeared. As though it just arrived, having flown out across the ocean to meet up with its traveling friends? More likely one was off feeding on the creepy crawlers burrowing into the woodwork when he saw the other two.

Both Taehyung and Seokjin would prefer that we be rid of these pests - Seokjin especially, whose shrieks I’m sure you heard all the way back in Busan - but I am not bothered by them. As far as I am concerned, they have more than paid their fare by eating the unwanted insects. There’s no reason for them to trouble us, and less reason for us to trouble them. Live and let live. 

Besides, we have more pressing matters to deal with. Again the heavens are filled with dark clouds, and a strong wind rips at the sails. The men are preparing the ship for a rough night. I informed Jimin at dinner that he will likely need to remain in his cabin and may be in for some seasickness, if the waves become rough. He thanked me for my concern and told me that he would be praying for the sailors to survive the storm. Such a kind man he is, to worry for the men. Truly, maybe he is an angel, come to bring some cheer to this unfortunate journey. Not that we are necessarily doom-

*****

“Captain!” 

Yoongi’s pen halts when he hears Taehyung’s voice. He glances up to find the younger man bounding towards him with a worried expression marring his handsome face. Quickly, he clambers out of his hammock, leaving his letter unfinished. 

“What is it?” 

“It’s Sungwoon. He’s taken ill.” 

Yoongi follows Taehyung up onto the deck, where some of the men are standing in a clump near the shade cast by the captain’s quarters. Sungwoon is lying on the deck, pale as a ghost and covered in a sheen of sweat, eyes closed as he moans quietly. 

Yoongi kneels by his side, fingers finding the pulse in the rigger’s neck. It’s scarily faint. Shit. He’s not sure what to do. Namjoon was the closest thing the ship had to a doctor. 

“Sungwoon? Can you hear me?” 

The sick man just groans, throwing an arm over his eyes. “Too bright.” 

Yoongi looks at the others helplessly. “What happened to him?” 

Shrugs all around. 

“He’s been looking a little wan the last few days,” Seokjin says. “I tried to give him a little extra food at breakfast today and he just pushed it away, said he wasn’t hungry.” 

“It’s the damned curse,” Yoongi hears Hoseok mutter under his breath, and he whips his head around to glare at the other man. Hoseok presses his lips together in silent penitence. 

“Might it be something he ate? From the food stores, not your cooking,” Yoongi adds hastily, before Seokjin can object. 

“He did take longer than usual the other day when he was sweeping the storage area,” Taehyung remarks. “Maybe he stole a bite of something that the mice got into?” 

“Maybe,” Yoongi hums, placing a hand on Sungwoon’s forehead. “He’s burning up. We should get him below deck before the storm hits.” He slides his hands beneath the man’s arms. “Seokjin - help me?” 

“Actually, Captain, if I may - perhaps he would be more comfortable in my quarters?” 

Yoongi didn’t know that Jimin had joined the crowd until he spoke. He looks up in surprise. “Oh, no, you don’t have t-”

“Please. I insist.” Jimin smiles, and again Yoongi is struck by his cherubic countenance. “I have plenty of room and I think it should be much more comfortable for him in there than down in the crew’s quarters. Besides, you and your men will be busy with the storm - he’ll need someone to look after him.” 

“I couldn’t ask you to do that,” Yoongi protests, but weakly, as he can feel how futile it is to argue. Jimin radiates a quiet confidence, the air of a man accustomed to getting his way. 

“It’s the least I can do, given how well your men have taken care of me,” Jimin says, brushing Yoongi’s concerns aside with a wave of his hand. Other than Seokjin preparing his meals, Yoongi’s not sure what Jimin means, but he is pleased nonetheless to hear that his crew are attending to their guest’s needs, so he simply nods, and he and Seokjin carry Sungwoon into Jimin’s room as the other men return to their work. 

Carefully, they lay Sungwoon on the chaise in the captain’s quarters. Seokjin disappears to fetch a pitcher of water, while Jimin heads to the captain’s private washroom to find a cloth to use to cool Sungwoon’s forehead, leaving Yoongi alone with the sick man.

Yoongi does his best to make the other man comfortable, lightly covering him with a blanket. As he moves away, Sungwoon’s eyes fly open. His hand grips Yoongi’s arm with an unearthly strength, and Yoongi nearly cries out in shock.

“Don’t - don’t,” the younger man croaks, staring at Yoongi with bloodshot eyes. 

A shudder passes through Yoongi as he fights the urge to look away from his intense gaze. “Don’t what?” 

“Don’t let h…” Sungwoon trails off with a pained whimper, eyes fluttering closed again. His hand releases Yoongi as his breathing stills.

“Sungwoon?” Yoongi grabs the younger man’s shoulder, shaking slightly, but it’s no use. He’s out, deep asleep, as though he used up all his strength in saying those few words. 

Jimin reappears with a cloth in hand and finds Yoongi standing over the sick man, blinking rapidly in confusion. 

“Really, it’s okay - I may not be a doctor, but I know how to tend to someone who is ill.” Jimin’s hand gently grasps Yoongi’s chin. He jumps at the sudden touch, but then stills as he looks into the other man’s eyes. For not the first time, he’s struck by how mesmerizing they are. “You just focus on the storm now, Captain. I’ll take care of Sungwoon.” 

When Yoongi blinks again, he’s back in his hammock, pen in his hand. Strange, he feels like there was something nagging at him, but he can’t remember what it is. At least he doesn’t have to worry about Sungwoon. Jimin will take care of him. 

**********

Beloved,

A difficult night. Pounding rain, battering waves, wind like a thousand knives, thrashing our sails and our spirits. No losses to report, thankfully. One of the men is ill, but he fell sick before the storm hit, and spent the night recuperating in the captain’s quarters under Jimin’s watchful eye. 

I am exhausted. I stayed up during the night watch to help the men keep the ship afloat. As the rain finally stopped and the sky lightened, despite the sun hiding behind the clouds, I finally collapsed in my hammock, but slept fitfully. At least I was not plagued by any dreams. It is now nearly suppertime and though I am ravenous, I wanted to write to you first. 

Though these trips are always challenging, this one is testing my resolve like no other before. I pride myself on always remaining resolute, courageous in the face of adversity, but I must admit now that I am only human, and can only take so much. 

It is times like these, when I feel weakened and in need of strength, that I miss you the most. Your love always bolsters me. I need you more than ever. I miss your face, your voice. The way you kiss me. The way your body feels beneath mine. 

Do not worry for me, my love. The knowledge that we will be together soon is carrying me through. Even though I am down now, I will get through. 

I promise you.

Love always,
Your Yoongi

**********

Dear heart,

An eerie mist hangs over the waters today. Still the sun cannot pierce the veil, no matter how brightly it may shine. I do not recall ever having seen such a thing on a voyage before - usually by midday such fog evaporates. Taehyung keeps saying it’s an ill omen, and as much as I do not wish to stoke his devotion to superstitions, I cannot help but fear he is right. 

The other men are murmuring again about curses, especially now that Hoseok has informed me that the storm the other night blew us slightly off course - he could not chart the stars until the clouds finally cleared, otherwise we would’ve corrected by now. But we have sailed several days more south than west, and must now add several more days to our travel.

Yet today was not all doom and gloom, beloved. Sungwoon has recovered from his illness. We still do not know what caused it - he himself has no memory of anything prior to his collapse on the deck - but he has returned to full health. Better, really - Taehyung remarked that he’s never seen him move so quickly before. I am quite relieved. 

Also, Jimin joined me on the deck after midday for a cup of tea. I have felt rather awful for him, having to remain cooped up in the captain’s chambers while the weather was foul, but he did not seem to find the stuffy confines of the quarters to be enervating in any way, cracking little jokes about how he is used to dwelling in such places. As if a man with such noble bearing would reside anywhere other than the most spacious estate! He is truly one of the merriest spirits I’ve ever met, with a smile that could chase away the grey clouds. Come to think of it, perhaps I should’ve asked him to deal with the fog - perhaps his sunny countenance could have helped!

Love always,
Your Yoongi

**********

Precious jagi,

Another odd dream plagues me. To be completely honest with you, I am not sure that I should tell you about it…. But if we are to be married, then I believe there should not be any secrets between us. So, in telling you of this dream, I will bare parts of my soul that I have not shown to anyone else in a long, long time. 

I can only hope that you will read these words with love.

This time, I found myself back at school, out on the lawn with my friends. Did I ever mention Yi-jeong to you before, who was my best friend since we were babes? I don’t think that I did, because… because it is hard to speak of him, since he left this world so long ago. He perished in a fire the year before I left Daegu and came to Busan.

But there is another reason that I have not spoken of him. You see, we were very close. He is… oh, I don’t know how to say it but to tell you plainly that he is the one who taught me what love is, my darling. Our friendship transcended the typical childhood bond and became something more as we grew older. Something stronger… something that I struggle to put into words even now. 

Please understand, Young-sook. I am still your Yoongi. There is just more to me than I have revealed to you before. It was fear that held me back - the fear of losing you. But my heart… it is capable of loving anyone. And that is because of Yi-jeong.

And it is you that I love now. 

In my dream, we were wrestling on the lawn, the way we did as children, during our breaks between classes, and giggling because as usual the play fighting turned into tickling. Only we were not children in this dream, we were teenagers. He held me pinned to the ground, but I managed to free a hand, and used it to brush his hair from his face as he laughed… his hair was always so long, and always in his eyes… 

“Yoongi,” he said in my dream, “you have forgotten me, haven’t you?” 

I tried to tell him that I have not, that I could never forget him, but I had no voice. My lips moved uselessly, so I shook my head. He kept repeating himself, and I kept trying and trying to shout, until finally I managed to squeak a pathetic “No!” 

And he laughed, so cruelly, so unlike Yi-jeong, and I knew then that while he wore his form, he was not my Yi. He - it - was something else, something older than the memory, and when it spoke again, its voice echoed in my head. 

“It’s okay, my love. I will help you remember,” it said, and Yi-jeong’s eyes became like black holes, swallowing his beautiful face before - before -

Oh god, I want to tell you, but I can’t. I’m sorry. I’m so s

Historian’s note: Marked with water drops, ink smeared in several spots, the letter ends here.

**********

My cherished love,

Hoseok came to me yesterday afternoon with an odd look in his eye. He pulled me down into the crew’s quarters, made sure we were alone, and then told me that he’d seen a ghost. 

I’m sure that your first thought upon reading that was that he was playing a prank. But I have known Hoseok for long enough to know when the man is joking and when he is not, and he was deadly serious. And also quite terrified. 

He told me that he’d been down in the storage area, having been sent by Seokjin to procure some dried fish for dinner, when he heard the sound of someone stumbling around. He turned, expecting to find that Seokjin had come looking for him since he was taking so long and we all know that Seokjin’s patience is as short as he is tall, but it wasn’t the cook he saw. 

It was Namjoon.

Hoseok said he froze, and Namjoon did the same. They both stared at each other for what felt like ages, before Hoseok shrieked. And then he ducked, for his scream startled the bats awake, and they flew about his head until he dropped to the floor. 

When the bats finally returned to their rafters, Hoseok uncovered his face and glanced around. He was alone. He abandoned his task and came to find me, desperate to discuss what he’d seen. And hoping for reassurance, I think. For me to tell him that he’s not insane. 

I am not sure that I was very comforting as I tried to placate his fears. Ghosts aren’t real. But how could I argue against what Hoseok had seen, without seeing it myself? I could provide no rational explanation for what had transpired. No one on the ship resembles Namjoon near enough for me to say that Hoseok had simply gotten them confused. And everyone else was accounted for - the day watch was busy at their posts and the night watch fast asleep in their hammocks. 

In the end, I told him that he was likely tired and worn out from the sun. The monotony of life at sea was clearly getting to him - his bored mind was simply trying to liven things up. All lame excuses for something that I think will trouble me for days, beloved. I recommended that he get a good night’s rest, and I am hoping for the same.

Damn the storms that blew us off course. Every extra minute spent on this ship seems to be costing my crew their sanity. What happens if my own begins to slip? 

Love always,
Your Yoongi

*****

Yoongi places his notebook in his hammock with a weary sigh. His head spins. Even though he knows he should try, he feels too keyed up to get any sleep right now, so he pulls on his coat and heads for the deck. 

Despite the late hour, the captain’s quarters are still lit. Yoongi knocks without hesitation.

“Please, come in,” a gentle voice answers, and Yoongi pushes the doors open to find Jimin holding a bottle of wine “Ah, Captain, I was just about to pour myself another drink. Would you like a glass?” 

Jimin had already shared some of his wine with Yoongi over dinner. Asking for more of the man’s stash feels a little greedy, but when Jimin tilts his head, raising the bottle in Yoongi’s direction generously, Yoongi knows he doesn’t mind, and nods. 

The two men take a seat at the dining table. Yoongi sips at the wine, letting the burgundy liquid float on his tongue for a moment. He’s going to have to try to find this vintage when he gets back to Korea. It would make a lovely gift for Young-sook. She has a fondness for red wine that rivals Yoongi’s love of whisky. 

“So what brings you to my door so late? If you don’t mind me asking.” 

Yoongi sighs. “Couldn't sleep. Too much on my mind,” he continues when the other man doesn’t say anything but just looks at him expectantly. 

“Well, there’s blessed little on mine at the moment, if you’d like me to share the burden,” Jimin cracks, eyes crinkling as he smiles. 

It must be the wine that’s warming Yoongi’s chest when he hears Jimin’s response. Just as it must be the wine that’s loosening Yoongi’s tongue. He tells the other man everything that is troubling him at the moment - the disappearances of Jungkook and Namjoon, the storms blowing the ship off course, the “curse,” Hoseok’s encounter, even his dreams, though he does not provide every horrible detail. It all comes tumbling out as Jimin quietly drinks his wine, observing Yoongi with an unwavering focus. 

When Yoongi finally stops to breathe, Jimin pours them both another glass. He swirls his thoughtfully for a few moments.

“I’m sorry,” Yoongi finally says. “I didn’t mean to overwhelm you with all of that.” He worries that he’s said too much. He’s not even sure why he said it all to begin with. 

“Relax, Yoongi. I asked you to tell me. Of course it’s a lot. You’re the captain. I’m not surprised to hear your concerns, although of course I only knew of a few of them before tonight.” Yoongi relaxes slightly as Jimin pauses for a sip. “I am no expert, but it would appear to me that all of this stress you bear may be causing the strange dreams. And I would imagine that your crew is also feeling the tension, which could account for Hoseok hallucinating the specter of your boatswain.”

Yoongi downs what’s left of his wine, nodding along as Jimin continues. 

“I know from what you’ve told me before that you shoulder so much responsibility, but I hope you understand that most of what you have mentioned - the storms, the losses, even your dreams - that’s all out of your control.” 

Yoongi frowns, spinning his glass on the table. “Yes, I do know that. A lifetime of sailing has taught me that no man can control the weather or the sea. And I’m aware that death is also beyond my purview, though I am loath to admit it.” This elicits a small chuckle from Jimin. “But knowing and understanding are not the same thing, though.” 

“True. Too true,” Jimin concedes. His brow furrows. “Yoongi, would you permit me to speak my mind freely?” 

“Of course. By all means.”

“It seems to me that you are still struggling with the idea of fate. You refuse to accept that anything happening on the ship could be predestined - especially since this ship is your domain and you are meant to be in charge. It’s a bitter ale to swallow, recognizing that you are not in control.” 

Jimin’s words leave Yoongi feeling exposed, as though the other man sees straight through to the heart of him. It shakes him, makes him want to look away from the other man’s gaze, but he cannot. After a moment, he nods, silently admitting that Jimin’s assertions are correct. 

“May I give you some advice?” 

“Please, yes. Anything.” Yoongi hears the naked desperation in his own voice and winces. He can only pray that Jimin doesn’t think less of him after this discussion.

Jimin slides forward in his chair. Yoongi copies him unconsciously, the buttons of his coat pressing into his chest as he leans into the table. 

“Give in. Accept that you are not in control, and let go.”

Yoongi blinks. “You make it sound so simple.” 

Jimin laughs then, but not his usual high-pitched laugh, the one that reminds Yoongi of the chiming of bells. This laugh reverberates from deep within his chest. “It can be, Captain. I promise you. And what’s more than that…” he pauses, eyebrow lifting slightly, “it can feel so good when you do.” He smirks, and Yoongi nearly reaches for the collar on his coat, suddenly needing more air. 

Jimin drains the last of his wine, licking a few drops from his plush lips. He takes Yoongi’s glass and clears the table, leaving Yoongi alone to sit and think. Or at least, to try to, but again his mind is a jumble. He’s not sure he feels any less tangled up than he did when he came here. 

Yet somehow, when Jimin returns, a soft smile on his face as he looks at Yoongi, Yoongi’s head suddenly empties. He rises to his feet, bowing slightly. 

“Thank you, Jimin. For the drink and the advice.”

“Of course, Captain.”

Yoongi reaches for the door, hand on the knob, when Jimin calls his name.

“Do let me know if there is any other way I can help you.” He tips his head, the corner of his mouth curling in a smile, and again Yoongi feels as though his breath’s been squeezed from his lungs again. “Anything at all.”

Yoongi swallows harshly, nodding. The cool evening air rushes to meet him as he steps out onto the deck again. He inhales deeply, trying to slow the hectic beating of his heart.

Unaware that someone else is enchanted by the rhythm. 

**********

My love,

The hours drag. I know that we are moving forward, ever on towards San Francisco, but if you were to tell me that time had come to a complete halt, I would believe you. 

Not only does it feel like we’ve stopped, but it feels like we are caught in some sort of loop. Nothing but storms and disappearances and bad dreams. I wish desperately for a way out. 

Hoseok has not recovered from his fright. Every odd sound makes him jump, every strong wind has him diving for the deck. Seokjin is quite worried about him. Not that he is faring any better himself. He and Taehyung are practically tied at the hip, both too afraid to walk the ship alone. 

I sought Jimin’s counsel last night, and he informed me that what I need to do is accept that everything is out of my control. Give in to my fate. And then I can bear all of this stride.

I suppose… I suppose if my fate is to be your loving husband, then I could. But I worry… what if there is something else meant for me? 

Oh, what am I even saying? 

Is this what madness is? Not an all-at-once encompassing sort of delirium but a thousand tiny delusions, cracks in the armor that spiral and fracture until it shatters like glass?

I need to rest. 

Love always,
Yoongi

**********

My darling, 

Sleep was a mistake. 

Again, I found myself wandering in a vivid dream. I was in a house that I have never seen before, but in my slumber I recognized it as my home. Yet it was so much older than any house I have ever lived in - almost like one of those ancient houses from the Joseon dynasty that we visited as schoolchildren. 

Within the small village where the house resided, inside the gated wall, there was a beautiful garden. I was wearing a hanbok, strolling about the grounds, when I heard a voice saying my name. I turned, and there stood a man. Now, in the light of day, I struggle to recall who he was, but in my dream I knew him. 

I knew him very well, for as he approached, I raised my arms, and took him into my embrace. 

“You found me again,” I said. 

He brushed tears from my cheeks. “I always will.”

His kiss was like the sweetest ambrosia, nourishing me while I held him. Time passed around us, seasons shifting, melting one into another, until finally we drew apart.

“Yoongi, my heart,” he whispered, this beautiful man that I loved, “your garden is dying.” 

I glanced around and found that the lovely flowers which I had just been admiring were now shriveling, drying on their vines. 

“You must feed,” he told me. “It’s the only way.” 

And I knew that he was right. 

“It is time, my love,” he said, taking my hand. “Are you ready?” 

I said yes. 

And then

Oh god

And then, my love, I opened my mouth, and 

and

And we were surrounded by bodies. 

Dead bodies. Everywhere. Covered in blood, dripping from the leaves. From my tongue. 

The flowers bloomed.

I awoke screaming. Scared Hoseok, who sprang from his hammock to check on me. He asked what was wrong and I could not tell him. How to explain everything?

And now, lying here, I am unable to sleep again. Because every time I close my eyes…

Every time I close my eyes, I see crimson waters. Rivers of ruby, seas of scarlet, all rising around me until the world is nothing but red.

Oh, god… beloved, what is happening to me? 

Yoongi

**********

Love,

Hoseok has gone missing.

I am sorry to start my letter in such a blunt manner, but… I do not know what else to say. Hoseok is gone. Another crew member is gone. My best friend is gone.

There was no storm last night. The sea was tranquil. One minute he was in his hammock, doing his best to calm me, to guide me back to sleep. When I rose at daybreak, he was already out of bed. I assumed I would find him nagging Seokjin for an extra roll at breakfast. But he was nowhere to be found.

We tore the ship apart looking for him. How could it be possible that a third man has gone overboard? Especially one such as Hoseok, who has spent most of his life on a ship? He’s always understood the dangers we face. Taken them very seriously. 

There is panic brewing amongst the men. They’re eyeing one another with suspicion, having gone from thinking the ship is cursed to thinking there might be a murderer hiding amongst us, even though we have found no trace of any of the missing men. For what it is worth, I do not believe anyone on this ship could be acting with such malice. But I do not have any answers.

I am so, so tired of not having the answers.

And my heart is broken. My best friend. 

Gone.

*****

Yoongi sighs, running his hands through his dark hair. Why is he still bothering to do this? Writing letters by candlelight while curled up in his hammock is difficult enough, but lately his thoughts are too scattered, tumbling about too chaotically, making it nearly impossible to write coherently. Every attempt taxes his energy, a precious resource that he needs to conserve if he is to survive the remainder of the trip.

And it’s difficult to focus on writing when all he wants to do is weep. His heart is asunder. 

He glances around the room. The rest of the day crew is slumbering soundly. And quietly. With Namjoon gone, there are no earth-shaking snores to rattle the rafters. Yoongi’s heart twists slightly at the thought of the missing boatswain. With a sigh, he presses his pen to paper again, continuing his thoughts.

Yoongi

“Yes?” he says, looking up. Blinking in confusion when he sees that no one is awake. He could’ve sworn he heard someone say his name. A trick of the wind, perhaps. 

Yoongi. Hear me 

It’s clearer that time. Definitely a voice. 

Yoongi 

Not quite a whisper. More like a sigh. Who would say his name like that?

Carefully, he climbs out of his bed. Not a soul stirs. He tiptoes around the space, marking them one by one. Every head is down, every pair of eyes closed. 

“Is someone playing a joke?” he whispers, head turning this way and that, watching for signs of reaction. It does not seem like the time for frivolity. The mood on the ship is somber tonight, as everyone is mourning the loss of Hoseok.  

But none of the men move when Yoongi steps closer. Yoongi frowns. Everyone’s completely asleep. 

Yoongi. My Yoongi

Warmth floods through his veins suddenly. Like a rope, it winds itself around his heart. 

And as the voice speaks again, the rope pulls tight. 

Come to me

Yoongi’s eyes widen as he realizes the voice is calling from outside. Slowly, he creeps towards the stairs, to climb towards the deck, when the squeak of a board beneath his feet breaks the stillness of the space. 

“Captain?” a sleep-bedraggled voice murmurs. He turns to find Taehyung peering at him from beneath tousled dark locks. “Is everything all right?” 

“Everything’s fine, Taehyung-ah,” he replies. “I’m just going to go check on - “

Yoongi. Come

“On that.” 

Taehyung yawns. “On what?” 

Now

Another pull, tighter than before. Moving his feet on invisible strings. 

“On that sound… don’t you hear it?” 

Taehyung’s eyelashes flutter. He rolls onto his side. “Don’t hear anything… cap’n,” he mumbles, breathing relaxing as he falls back into sleep.  

Only you can hear me, Yoongi

Yoongi’s mouth runs dry. He’s losing his mind. That’s the only explanation. 

But even as he doubts his sanity, he keeps climbing, until he emerges on deck. 

And finds Jimin standing in the doorway to the captain’s quarters, a patient smile on his face. He’s dressed in another one of his stylish suits, this one a deep red from head to toe. 

As soon as Yoongi sees the color, he’s hit with a vision of his last dream. The man’s face that he struggled to remember suddenly clicks into place like a jigsaw piece. He gasps. “It’s you.” 

Jimin just smiles wider, eyes bright with joy. “I was afraid for a moment that you would try to resist my call. I’m relieved you didn’t. It can be… unpleasant… when you fight it.” 

“Fight what?” Yoongi asks, voice rising in confusion. And fear. “What is happening?”  

“I can explain everything,” Jimin replies, stepping aside. “Please, come in.” 

It sounds like a request, but Yoongi knows that it is not. He doesn’t know how he knows that, but he does. Some instinct buried deep within him recognizes an order when he hears it. 

He walks into the captain’s quarters. Jimin locks the doors behind him. 

“Please, sit.” Jimin gestures to the captain’s dining table, where a bottle of wine and two glasses wait. He pours and then takes a seat, crossing his legs as he leans back, studying Yoongi over the rim of his drink. “I promise you that I will give you all the answers you seek, but I’m curious to know how much you already understand.” 

“I don’t think I understand anything at all,” Yoongi declares. He doesn’t touch the glass in front of him, feeling like he needs to keep a clear head right now. 

Jimin clicks his tongue. “You underestimate yourself. Come, Captain,” he says, leaning forward to look into Yoongi’s eyes. “Tell me what you know.” 

Yoongi hears it then, the way Jimin’s voice drops into a lower register, as he gives the command. 

Yoongi obeys. “You were calling me. You’re in my head somehow. Not just tonight, but the dreams - that was you, too.” His own words stun him. But as he thinks about it, he knows it’s the truth. “It was you the whole time, talking to me in each one.” 

Jimin grins. “Ah, my love, I knew you’d figure it out. You just needed a little push.” He sips his wine slowly, still eyeing Yoongi closely. Yoongi shivers slightly at the endearment. “You remember me now? I was afraid that if I showed you my face, it would be too much. I was so tempted, though,” he laughs. 

“I - I think so. The last dream… it wasn’t just a dream, was it?” Yoongi’s heart starts to pound.

“No, it was more than that. It was a memory, of our lives before.” 

Yoongi says nothing, letting Jimin’s statement settle over him like a weight. He feels like he could drown under the questions it brings. “I don’t understand.” 

“You will. The memories are still there. You just need to let yourself remember.” 

He’s normally a patient man, but Yoongi has reached his limit. “Enough! Stop speaking in riddles, and tell me what -”

Be still

Yoongi’s mouth snaps shut. He stares wide-eyed at Jimin as the other man quickly rises, pulling Yoongi to his feet. Though his tongue is suddenly too heavy to move, there’s nothing stopping his pulse from racing when Jimin places both hands on the sides of Yoongi’s head, cradling his face.

Look into my eyes, Yoongi. Do you see now?

Yoongi gasps. His mind floods suddenly with images. Yoongi as a small boy, running through the grass with another child, a boy with eyes that crinkle and a kind smile. Yoongi and Jimin as teenagers, sneaking away from their families to kiss beneath a cherry blossom tree. Jimin and his family traveling to the West, leaving a heartbroken Yoongi behind.

Jimin, returning years later, with a sharper smile, and eyes that burn red. 

It all comes rushing back in an instant, an entire lifetime of memories, overwhelming Yoongi completely. His knees buckle, and Jimin catches him, leading him to one of the couches he’s stuffed into the captain’s quarters, where he collapses against the soft cushions. 

The last memory that he flits before his eyes is the end. “The hunters,” he croaks suddenly. “I - I tried to fight them off. We all did,” he says, meaning the rest of the coven. A sob racks his body as he remembers dying with Jimin’s name on his lips.

Jimin’s eyes glimmer with the same sadness Yoongi recognizes from their conversation on the deck of the ship all those weeks ago. “I know, my love. I know you did. I am so sorry that I wasn’t there to protect you.” 

Jimin wraps his arms around Yoongi then, and Yoongi calms, nuzzling into him like a cat. Being held by Jimin feels like coming home after a very long time.

A thought occurs to Yoongi.

“The crew? That was you.” His heart swells, thinking of the bats down in the storage of the ship. “You turned them all?”

Yoongi can feel Jimin nodding as he curls around him. “I did not intend to at first, especially when the hunger hit me after the first few days, but, well, they’re all so very sweet, and you seem to be so fond of them, so… yes, I turned them. I’ve been feeding from the others. Restraining myself, trying not to hurt them, for you. For us.” 

“For us,” Yoongi repeats, sitting up slowly. Now that the overpowering emotions of his past life memories have faded, reality sinks in. “Oh god. What am I - how can I -” he sputters, thinking of Young-sook and the life waiting for him back in Korea. “What am I supposed to do now?” 

“Yoongi. My heart. Don’t you understand? There’s only one thing for you to do.” Jimin takes Yoongi’s hands in his. “Fate led me back to you. You must come with me to America, where we’ll start our new coven in the new world.” 

Yoongi says nothing, paralyzed by the conflicting emotions swirling inside him. He can’t just leave his life behind. But as he looks at Jimin, staring into the other man’s eyes, a swell of love rushes up and washes away all the confusion and doubt. It wasn’t déjà vu - it was jamais vu. His heart has recognized Jimin all along. 

“I’ve searched for you for lifetimes,” Jimin whispers, pressing his forehead against Yoongi’s. “I knew I’d find you again one day. Our bodies may wither, but our love will never die.” 

Yoongi’s eyes slip shut, breath coming out in heavy shudders. “How? How did you know you’d find me?” He feels Jimin’s hand trace his cheek and leans into the touch. 

“Because it’s not the first time.” Yoongi’s eyes fly open in surprise. Jimin grins, still stroking his cheek. “You’ll remember in time. I didn’t want to show you too much, but… you’ll remember.”

“Fate,” Yoongi murmurs. “You spoke of it from experience.” 

Jimin nods. “We’re meant to be, my love. Together, as one.” His hand slides around, cupping the back of Yoongi’s head. “Let me show you. Help you remember the way we… fit.” 

Yoongi shivers as Jimin kisses him. His lips are firm and demanding where Yoongi’s are soft and yielding. Let go, Yoongi remembers Jimin saying. Give in.

So Yoongi does. 

With a sigh, Yoongi lays on his back, pulling the other man on top of him. Jimin huffs out a pleased laugh at how docile Yoongi becomes beneath Jimin’s touch. Jimin’s hands roam his body as they kiss, squeezing, gripping, guiding him into the perfect position so that as his tongue licks at Yoongi’s lips, his hips roll against him as well. 

Yoongi groans, feeling Jimin’s clothed cock rubbing against his. As his mouth opens in ecstasy, Jimin slips his tongue inside. Yoongi arches his back, pushing himself as close to Jimin as he can get. 

“Yoongi,” Jimin moans, dropping his face into the crook of Yoongi’s neck. “I’ve missed you so much.” His teeth rake along Yoongi’s pulse point, drawing a tiny “ah!” from the other man. 

“Wait - Jimin -” Yoongi pants, hands pressing on Jimin’s chest. “Did you - did you bite me earlier?” He recalls the terrible itching he’d felt for a few days, before he knew what Jimin was. 

“Ah, yes, I’m sorry, love. I simply could not resist having a taste.” Jimin grins, fangs slipping forth as he speaks. “I had to make you forget, because I knew you weren’t ready. But don’t worry - you’re just as delicious as you ever were.” 

Yoongi remembers, then - the heady bliss that comes with Jimin’s bite. His throbbing cock twitches in his pants. “Please - do it again. Now,” he begs, tossing his head back to give Jimin more room. 

Jimin hisses, diving in without a second’s hesitation. Yoongi feels the sharp sting - and then immediate euphoria. His mind floats away on the high as Jimin sucks the blood from his veins, growling deep in his chest while he holds Yoongi’s head and body in an iron grip. 

“S’good,” Yoongi mumbles, barely able to form the words. Jimin laps at the bite marks to seal them shut, not wanting to drain his lover completely. Yoongi lifts his head in a daze. “More?” 

“Later, love. When it’s time.” Yoongi pouts, making Jimin laugh. He shifts, slowly grinding his pelvis into Yoongi’s, bringing him back to attention. “But I’m not done with you yet.” 

Jimin helps Yoongi to his feet and leads him to the captain’s bed. They undress hurriedly, as though after all this time apart, they can’t bear another second of not touching, not kissing, and fall onto the blankets while wrapped in each other’s arms. 

It’s been years since Yoongi was with a man, but he remembers the rhythms. Jimin’s fingers work him open like they did all those centuries ago. When Jimin slides his cock inside him, Yoongi has to take a moment to breathe, but then desire surges through him and he thrusts his hips, inviting the other man to move.

And like all vampires who have been invited, Jimin comes inside. 

It’s when Yoongi is nearing his climax that Jimin bites him again. This time, he takes his fill, swallowing mouthful after mouthful of Yoongi’s precious blood as Yoongi comes, white blending with the red dripping down his torso. Once Yoongi’s breathing begins to slow, Jimin tears the skin at his wrist and presses it to Yoongi’s mouth. Yoongi feels a few drops trickle down his throat before he stops breathing.

Only to wake again in his lover’s arms, cradled close, silent heart to silent heart. 

“Thank you,” Yoongi whispers, head on Jimin’s chest as they lay together. “For finding me again.” 

Jimin hums softly, stroking his hair. “I always will.” 

**********

To Young-sook,

I have done it. I have accepted my fate. And it is to remain at Jimin’s side. 

I will not be returning to Korea. You may keep any of my belongings as you wish, or give them away, I care not. Please inform my family that they should do the same. 

Min Yoongi

**********

Historian’s note: Nearly half a century after it was lost, the remnants of the Magpie were unearthed on the shores of Monterey Bay, over 100 miles from its original port of destination. To the neverending thanks of the scholars who worked on the display of the Magpie, which currently stands at the San Francisco Historical Society, Captain Min stored his letters in cork-sealed bottles, coated with wax to keep the contents safe from the elements until he could have them shipped back to Korea. These bottles miraculously withstood the churning waters to wash up on the beach unscathed. Sadly, most of the other items on the ship’s inventory lie at the bottom of the ocean, including most of the priceless goods owned by Park Jimin. 

It is not only relics and treasures that were stolen by the sea.  Only a handful of crew members’ corpses were discovered, strewn throughout the detritus, most of their bodies ravaged by sun, sand, and saltwater, to the point where they appeared desiccated. A few were completely unrecognizable, limbs and torsos torn into shreds, likely attacked by sharks in a feeding frenzy. 

Captain Min Yoongi and Park Jimin were amongst those never found; it is believed that they did not survive whatever storm sent the ship to its doom. May their souls rest in peace.