Down The Rabbit Hole

Las Vegas already feels like it’s humming before you even properly arrive in it, like the entire city is a living thing that inhales neon and exhales heat. The dry air hits you the moment you step outside with your friends, your skin tightening slightly under the sun that feels too bright to be real, too staged, like it’s been turned up for an audience. Day 1 of the concert hasn’t even begun, but everything already feels like it’s leaning forward, waiting.

You and your friends had landed with a plan that wasn’t really a plan, just a loose agreement to follow anything that felt vaguely ARIRANG-featured, anything tied to BTS lore, anything that might make the trip feel more like a pilgrimage than a vacation. It’s ridiculous, you think, as you walk past tourists filming fountains and gamblers spilling out of casinos like they’ve forgotten what time is. But it’s Vegas. Everything here is supposed to be a little ridiculous.

That’s how you end up there.

The Lotus Magic Shop sits wedged between two louder buildings, its sign small enough to miss if you blink. But something about it pulls your attention anyway. Soft gold lettering, a faint glow even in daylight, like it’s remembering being important once. Your friend laughs immediately when she sees it.

“Okay,” she says, pointing. “That is literally a Magic Shop. We have to go in.”

You don’t argue. None of you do. The name alone feels like permission.

Inside, the air shifts. It’s cooler, quieter, like the city got muted the moment the door closed behind you. Shelves line the walls in uneven rows, filled with trinkets that look half antique and half staged, crystal animals, dusty jars, folded paper charms tied with string. It smells faintly like cedar and something metallic underneath, like old coins or rain that never fully dried.

And then you see it.

The One Wish Willow.

It sits on a middle shelf like it doesn’t belong there, in a highly deceptive, retro, and cheap-looking mass-market packaging. The vintage 1980s-style box is designed to look like an ordinary, inexpensive novelty trinket you might impulsively pick up from a gift shop.

6.99.

Seven dollars, basically. It’s always the seven when it comes to BTS and Army!

You stare at it longer than you mean to.

“It grants one wish, it says!” The exterior and packaging also prominently display "Amaze your friends!" alongside important user warnings. Warning Labels: The packaging and included instructions heavily stress that wishes are irreversible and cannot be repeated.

Your friend snorts. “That’s so fake.”

“Obviously,” another says, already walking away. “But it’s cute. Get it for the memory.”

You should leave it there. You know that. You absolutely know that. But Vegas has a way of making bad ideas feel like traditions, like souvenirs you’re supposed to collect without questioning whether they’re real.

So you buy it. “Are you sure about this?” The cashier asks with a strange look on his face.

“Well, yes.” He continues giving you a look, but then shrugs. You pay him and that is that.

Seven dollars feels like nothing in a city designed to make everything feel like nothing.

When your friends see it at checkout, they laugh.

“You bought a cursed dead wood?”

“It’s not cursed,” you say automatically, even though you don’t actually believe that either. You just tuck the box into your bag like it belongs there. Like it was always meant to come with you.

Outside again, the sun is louder. The world is louder. You almost forget about the shop entirely by the time you’re rushing toward the venue, checking your phone every few seconds like it might suddenly tell you you’re late.

Soundcheck passes are real. You still can’t believe it even as you’re being guided inside with a crowd that feels too excited to be contained in a single building. Everything is flashing wristbands and security instructions and the distant thump of rehearsal sound bleeding through walls.

Inside the stadium, the scale hits you in pieces instead of all at once.

The stage is massive, extending into long catwalk legs that reach deep into the audience sections like arms stretching out to touch as many people as possible. Your seat is just slightly off-center, close enough to feel lucky, far enough to feel invisible. You notice it immediately. You always notice it immediately.

You’re not front row. Not even close.

Your fingers tighten around your phone as you sit. You can already feel the logic forming in your head: they will look everywhere, but not here. Not exactly here. Not you.

You really want them to see you. To acknowledge your existence and not just as a light in the crowd. But as... you. 

Still, you came prepared. Your bag opens like a small arsenal of anticipation, light sticks, snacks you won’t eat, tissues you don’t need, and the poster you spent too long making.

On it, in bold exaggerated handwriting: “Can you BE MINE? 1 for Yes or 2 for Yes.”

It’s stupid. It’s supposed to be stupid. That’s the point. It’s based on Jimin’s solo work, a joke turned into hope turned into something you can hold instead of just thinking about. 

BTS is about to step onto that stage. And more specifically, Park Jimin…the PARK Jimin, is about to exist in the same physical space as you again, even if only briefly, even if only in passing light.

You tell yourself that should be enough.

Soundcheck starts with “Swim,” then “Alien,” then “Fya.” Fifteen minutes that feel like they stretch and compress at the same time, like time is reacting to sound instead of the other way around.

When BTS come out, the stadium erupts in a kind of sound that feels too big for human lungs. You watch them move like they already know exactly where every camera is, every angle, every expectation. Kim Namjoon. Kim Seokjin. Min Yoongi. Jung Hoseok. PARK JIMIN. Kim Taehyung. Jeon Jungkook.

They look effortless in a way that makes you feel slightly unreal for existing in the same space.

Jimin moves like he’s half-aware of gravity but not fully obeying it. Like a fairy, if you will.

He circles the stage during “Alien” with the others, and you immediately stand a little straighter, as if that helps. You lift your poster slightly higher. You even try a small, awkward dance, something to make yourself noticeable, something to separate you from the blur of fans around you.

He comes your direction during the rotation.

Your chest tightens so sharply it feels like it might interrupt the moment itself.

He’s closer now. Close enough that you can see the way his hair sticks slightly to his forehead, the way his expression shifts between focus and warmth depending on where he’s looking.

You raise your poster higher.

“Can you BE MINE? 1 for Yes or 2 for Yes.”

Your heart is doing something unhelpful and frantic.

But his eyes don’t land on you.

They sweep over your section like a light passing over glass, brief, reflective, gone. He’s looking lower, closer to the barricade, the very front rows where people are practically reaching into the stage. His attention is anchored there, grounded in proximity.

You are just far enough back to become part of the crowd instead of part of the moment.

He smiles at someone else. Waves. Moves on.

And then he’s gone.

Just like that.

The disappointment is not immediate. It arrives a few seconds later, like your body needs time to realize what your mind already understands.

Soundcheck ends quickly after that. The members leave in a blur of coordinated movement and flashing lights, and the stadium slowly deflates into noise again, fans talking, laughing, already rewriting the moment into something softer.

You stay seated.

Long after everyone else begins to shift and stand and stretch and leave, you remain still, your poster resting against your knees like it suddenly weighs more than it did before.

Your friends notice.

“It’s okay,” one of them says quickly, sitting back down beside you. “It’s just soundcheck. You’ve got the main show. He’ll definitely see you then.”

“Yeah,” another adds. “There’s still so many chances. And your poster is literally iconic.”

You nod because it’s easier than explaining that something about it already feels decided. Like you’ve seen the shape of how today will go, and it doesn’t include what you wanted.

They eventually leave to get food, promising to come back before the show starts. The stadium empties in waves for a brief moment. You stay behind, claiming you need to charge your phone, even though it’s more about not wanting to move yet.

You open your bag slowly.

That’s when you see it again.

The One Wish Willow box.

It sits at the bottom like it’s been waiting patiently, as if it knew you’d eventually run out of distractions and remember it existed.

You turn it over in your hands.

6.99.

A joke. A souvenir. A stupid little object from a stupid little shop in a city that thrives on illusions. Spark the middle and break in half.

You almost laugh.

“What harm could it do?” you murmur under your breath.

It’s not even a question you expect an answer to.

You open the box.

Inside, the One Wish Willow is smaller than you thought. Delicate. Ordinary. Almost pathetic. Like something you could snap between your fingers if you wanted to.

You hold it anyway.

The stadium hums faintly around you. Distant staff and fan movement, echoing sounds from the VCR play around the venue, the lingering ghost of music still trapped in the walls.

You exhale.

“I wish Jimin would finally notice me,” you say quietly, almost amused at yourself.

There’s a pause.

Your brain tries, genuinely tries, to stop you there. To let it remain harmless. A joke. A story you can tell your friends later.

But you don’t stop.

Because if you’re going to pretend magic is real, it might as well be honest magic.

“…and that once he does, he can’t stop thinking about me. Like I stay in his mind. Like he can’t look away, even when he tries. Like he…”

Your grip tightens slightly.

You don’t know why it suddenly feels harder to breathe in a building full of air.

You continue anyway.

“…like he falls for me completely and can’t stop.”

The moment the sentence leaves you, you break the piece of wood. The air shifts.

Not dramatically. Not visibly.

Just enough that you notice it afterward, like a sound… a jingle… is registered by your ears after it’s already said.

Your phone buzzes beside you. You put away the broken willow in your bag.

You glance down automatically.

A notification lights the screen from a fan update account: soundcheck clips uploading. Thousands of fans reacting. People laughing about interactive moments you didn’t get to experience properly.

And somewhere in that noise, a strange thought forms, quiet and uninvited.

Like something heard you.

Like something is listening now.

Outside, the stadium begins to fill again.

And far away, under stage lights warming up for the main show, Day 1 of 4 starts to feel less like the beginning of something.

And more like the first time something has already chosen you back.

Your friends eventually come back with food in hand, talking over each other about how insane it already feels, how this is only Day 1 and somehow everything already feels like too much and not enough at the same time.

“You’re too quiet,” one of them says, handing you a drink.

“I’m fine,” you reply automatically, but not mention you embarrassingly pulling out that one wish joke trinket and making an actual wish.

Instead, you let the conversation wash over you while your eyes drift to the main stage again. The long catwalks stretch out like empty roads now, the barricades still lined with early fans trying to capture the perfect shot to show that they made it to the BTS concert and have the "best seats in the house". Staff members move across the floor, taping cables, checking screens, resetting the world for tonight’s main show like nothing supernatural had ever brushed through it.

But you cannot shake the feeling that something did.

By the time doors open for the general audience for the main concert, the energy shifts completely.

The stadium fills so fast it almost feels violent. Allegiant Stadium becomes a single body exhaling heat, light, and sound all at once. It's also just a bit overwhelming the more and more you think about it and look around. The crowd becomes a living thing pressed shoulder to shoulder, lightsticks blooming like a field of synchronized stars, and VCR music begins to play ominous traditional Korean instrumental tunes.

You and your friends are back in your seats discussing surprise songs they're hopeful to see, random tweets they saw online, and other yapping about BTS. Things have settled and feel different. Fuller. Heavier. Like whatever happened during soundcheck and you being embarassed by Jimin's lack of attention towards you has been swallowed by something larger.

When the show begins, it begins like impact.

“Hooligan” hits first, and the stage explodes into movement. Then “Aliens,” then “Run BTS,” and the entire stadium screams like it is trying to keep up with its own heartbeat.

BTS move like they are in control of gravity again, but you notice something subtle now that you did not during soundcheck. It is not obvious at first. Just small pauses between movements. Slight changes in where attention goes.

And more than anything, you notice Jimin.

He is smiling, performing, spinning into choreography like he always does, but his eyes keep drifting in ways that feel slightly unfocused. Not lost. Just… searching. Like he is looking for something he cannot name. His body language also looks off at moments, but maybe you're overthinking it a bit much.

Yeah, maybe you are just imagining it.

But then it happens again during “Fake Love.”

He and Yoongi walk toward the extended stage leg closest to your side of the floor. The crowd erupts around you, phones rising like a single wave. You rise too without thinking, lifting your poster again even though your hands are already tired from holding it earlier.

“Can you BE MINE? 1 for Yes or 2 for Yes.”

You watch him approach.

This time, he is closer than soundcheck. Close enough that you can see the way his expression tightens slightly when he scans the crowd.

He stops.

Just for a fraction of a second longer than necessary.

His eyes pass over barricade fans first, then the middle sections, then yours.

And for a moment, his gaze catches yours and he looks very elated to find you.

He then looks like he is reading the sign you made and laughs. Then he raises a peace sign. A 2. Answering your question. You and your friends suddenly cheer from the interaction of finally getting noticed.

Then his attitude shifts and he looks away sharply, almost as if something pulled him out of it, and continues moving.

You lower your poster slowly.

“Wait what was that?” your friend shouts over the music.

“I don’t know,” you answer, but your voice sounds like it belongs to someone else. “But who cares, I got noticed! Yay!”

You and your friends continue to fangirl and cheer throughout the set, and the rest of the concert continues like a dream that refuses to stabilize.

“Mic Drop” shakes the stadium so hard your ribs feel like they are vibrating separately from your body. “Fya” turns the crowd into pure movement, with other members like Taehyung and Hoseok coming onto your side. “Fire” makes everything feel like it is burning without heat.

During “Idol,” the members walk the perimeter in a procession, and you catch glimpses of them moving past your section. RM looks out into the crowd with a calm focus that feels almost grounding, like he is seeing the whole stadium at once instead of just pieces of it. Jin waves toward a section slightly farther away, laughing at something a fan is doing. Jungkook runs ahead of the others briefly, then slows like he remembers he is supposed to stay in formation.

But Jimin.

Jimin keeps pausing in small, inconsistent ways. Not enough for anyone else to notice if they weren't his fellow members and staff, though just enough for you to start noticing it as a long time fan. Is something wrong?

Once, during a transition, he turns his head toward the stage wings like he heard something offstage. Another time, he looks directly into the crowd again and holds it for a beat too long, then blinks like he is resetting himself.

Your stomach tightens.

You tell yourself it's likely exhaustion. Lights. Noise. Pressure. Anything normal. This is the last stop of the first leg of the World Tour, maybe he's not feeling 100%.

But the thought from earlier returns anyway.

Like something heard you.

By the time the encore begins, you are physically drained from all of the standing or screaming you've been doing for over an hour. 

“Come Over” feels soft after everything that came before it, like the stadium is exhaling. “Butter” makes everyone laugh and sway, the members joking with each other, moving without precision on purpose.

During “Dynamite,” Jimin spins mid-step and for a brief second looks directly toward the center sections again.

And again, it is like something inside him stutters.

Like he is trying to focus on one thing and failing.

The surprise songs hit differently.

“Permission to Dance” shocks fans at it's sudden return to being played, to the dismay of some, but it brings back some soft memories from Permission to Dance tour. “Go Go” is chaotic and playful, but even then you notice Jimin lagging half a beat behind the others at one point, then correcting himself instantly like it never happened. He laughs it off, but you can tell members like Taehyung catch it immediately that this isn't normal for Jimin.

You hope everything is alright and that he isn't pushing himself.

The final stretch of the concert slows everything down. The members do their ending ments, thanking fans for coming to Vegas, mentioning how they know many travelled fair to be there and also coming back to this venue after 4 years. Time surely has passed. Jimin's ending meant is very normal during this: just teasing fans to make some noise and hoping everyone gets home safely after the show.

“Please” has them sitting on the rotating stage, turning slowly so every side of Allegiant Stadium gets its moment. The crowd is still loud, but it is softer now, emotional in a way that feels like collective fatigue and joy mixing together.

You watch Jimin during that rotation, recording with your phone for some clips to have as memories.

You zoom in with your phone. He is smiling again. Playing around with Yoongi who keeps poking at him, followed by Jungkook who slaps his knees.

But every so often, his eyes flick toward your section.

And stares deeply, as if he’s trying to find…you.

Then “Into the Sun” begins.

It feels like goodbye stretched into music. Slow, aching, and impossibly tender.

The members stand at the edge of the stage, waving, lingering, and walking backward as if refusing to fully leave yet. The stadium roars with everything it has left, a wall of sound that vibrates in your chest like it could keep them there forever.

And then it is over.

The lights come up gradually at first, then all at once.

Harsh, white, and unforgiving. Reality forcing itself back in like cold water after a fever dream.

The crowd doesn’t move right away. Everyone just stands there, stunned into a lingering, messy noise. Some still cheering, some already crying, a few calling out names that won’t be answered again tonight. The magic drains slowly, like water slipping through cupped hands.

Your friends stay frozen beside you for a long second. Then the disbelief spills out.“No way… that’s it?” one of them says, voice cracking. “I can’t believe it’s actually over. It doesn’t feel real.”

Another lets out a shaky laugh, rubbing their face with both hands. “I’m not ready. I’m literally not ready. How are we supposed to just go home after that?”

You swallow hard, throat tight. The stadium lights feel too bright on your wet eyes.

“But hey,” the first friend adds, trying to rally, “we’ve got tomorrow. and Wednesday. and Thursday.”

A half-hearted “Yay” ripples through your little group. Flat, tired, and sarcastic. You join in, but it comes out more like a groan.

Tomorrow suddenly feels less like a gift and more like the last step toward the edge of a cliff.

Your friends grab your arms anyway, pulling you forward before the ache can settle too deep.

“Photos,” one says, already steering you toward the barricade. “We have to get barricade photos while it’s emptying out. Come on.”

You follow them because it is easier than thinking. Easier than sitting still in your seat with your body suddenly too aware of itself. Legs shaky, chest hollow, the ghost of every chorus still ringing in your ears.

The barricade area is less chaotic now. Still slightly crowded, but more manageable. Fans take turns posing, laughing, recreating moments from the show that already feel like memories instead of present tense.

You take a few photos with your friends. You smile when you are supposed to. You hold your lightstick up. You try to match their energy.

But your feet hurt.

Your entire body feels like it has been emptied and refilled too many times in one night.

Eventually you drift away slightly, letting them continue taking pictures while you find a random empty aisle seat closer to the back of the floor section. It is not your seat. You do not care.

You sit down like your body finally makes a decision without asking you.

The relief is immediate and almost dizzying.

You lean forward, unlacing your boots with slow fingers. The floor feels colder than you expect. You pull out your foldable flats from your bag and slip them on, exhaling like you have been holding your breath for hours. You put your boots away in a reusable bag you had folded up in your main bag.

The thought of walking back to the hotel already makes your legs ache. The Strip will be chaos. Fans everywhere. Glittering noise and traffic and exhaustion all wrapped together in a single direction.

“Fans packed like sardines,” one of your friends had called it earlier.

It feels accurate now.

You lean back in the seat for just a second, holding onto your clear bag of stuff and your shoe bag.

Just one.

That is when it happens.

A hand grabs your arm.

Firm. Immediate. Real.

You are pulled sideways before your brain fully processes what is happening, taking a strong hold of your bags before they slip off.

“Wait–” you start, voice rising instantly, shock snapping through your body.

The grip tightens and drags you faster, away from your seat, away from your friends, toward one of the darkened tunnels that leads backstage.

Your breath catches hard.

Where are you going?!

The direction BTS disappeared into? Why? 

Your instinct is to scream. 

You almost do.

But the person stops abruptly and turns slightly, sensing it before it happens. A hand rises quickly, finger pressed to a masked mouth in a clear shushing gesture.

“쉬,” the man says quietly. [“Shh.”]

Your heart slams so hard it feels like it is trying to leave your chest.

The man is small-framed, wearing an oversized hoodie that swallows his body shape completely. A mask covers most of his face, leaving only his eyes visible.

And when you see those eyes properly, everything in you goes still in a way you had once joked about.

Not panic.

Not excitement.

Just total system freeze.

Because your brain refuses to accept what your eyes are showing you.

No.

No way.

That is not–

The man pulls you further into the tunnel, away from the noise of the stadium, deeper into the dim backstage corridor where everything sounds distant and muffled.

Your mind finally catches up to your body.

This is how you thought it would go, once, in a very delusional dream you had many years ago about BTS at Speak Yourself tour when you were still in college.

Well not like this. Not literally. But in that vague, impossible way you dreamed about and immediately laughed off once you woke up.

If it ever happens, you had told yourself, you will freeze. You will not scream. You will not move. You will just accept it because it cannot be real anyway.

And now you are doing exactly that.

Because the man glances back at you again, and the mask shifts slightly as he turns.

And when you meet his eyes properly this time, there is no room left for doubt.

It is him.

Jimin.

He is staring at you like he is still trying to confirm something.

Then, in a low voice, barely above a breath, he speaks in Korean first.

“왜 이렇게 조용해요?” [“Why are you so quiet?”]

You do not answer.

You physically cannot.

He lets out a short exhale that sounds almost like relief, then shifts his grip slightly, still holding your arm but gentler now, guiding instead of dragging.

Then he adds, in careful English, softer and more deliberate than before.

“I need you to come with me. Just for a moment.”

Your legs move because he is moving.

Not because you decided.

Because something in your brain has completely stopped arguing.

And as the tunnel opens further into the backstage world, where lights are colder and voices are lower and everything feels like it is happening behind reality instead of inside it, one thought repeats in your head over and over again.

This is not supposed to be happening.

And yet it is.

The corridor behind the main tunnel is nothing like the stadium.

The sound drops off so sharply it feels like your ears are malfunctioning. One moment there is 50,000 people still screaming somewhere behind concrete and steel, and the next there is only the hum of emergency lighting and the distant vibration of machinery you cannot see.

Jimin keeps walking until the noise of staff and stagehands fades completely.

You try to count doors as you pass them. You lose track after the third.

He finally stops in a narrow stretch of corridor that looks unused, like it exists only for maintenance and forgotten movement. No staff. No cameras in obvious sight. Just pale walls and a flickering light overhead that makes everything feel slightly unreal.

He releases your arm.

For a second, you do not move. You just stand there, staring at him in the hoodie and mask, your brain still refusing to fully translate what is happening into something logical.

Then he exhales, like he has been holding something in since soundcheck.

And suddenly, he steps forward.

Fast.

Before you can process it, your back hits the wall.

Not painfully. Not violently.

But firmly enough that your body registers it as final.

Your breath catches sharply, eyes widening instantly as your hands lift slightly between you and him out of pure reflex.

He is close now. Too close for any normal backstage interaction. Close enough that you can see the slight uneven rise and fall of his chest, like even he is not fully steady.

The mask is still on, but his eyes are completely uncovered.

And they are not performing anymore.

They are focused.

Locked.

On you.

Your voice tries to form something, but it does not make it out.

He takes his mask off and speaks first, in Korean. 

His voice is low. Controlled. But there is something strained underneath it, like the words are being pulled out instead of chosen.

“오늘…” he starts, then pauses, as if correcting himself mid-thought. “오늘 제대로 못했어요.” [“Today… I couldn't do my best.”]

Your brows knit slightly. You know some Korean, so you're only able to catch fragments of words. Today. Could not. Best.

You do not question why he is speaking to you in a language that you don't really understand, mainly due to being a bit nervous of killing the vibe right now. Jimin continues speaking, not looking away from you at all. 

“계속 당신을 찾으려고 했어요.” [“I kept trying to look for you.”]

Your breath stutters.

That word. 당신.

You know enough Korean to understand the weight of it. You. You specifically.

His hand lifts slightly, then stops midway, like he is unsure whether he should touch you again or not.

He continues anyway, voice tightening just a little.

“잠깐이라도 안 보이면…” [“If I could not see you, even for a moment…”]

He stops.

His gaze flickers across your face like he is checking whether you are still here, still real, still reacting.

Then he exhales through his nose, a sound that is almost frustrated with himself.

“불안했어요.” [“I felt anxious.”]

Silence drops between you.

It is not empty.

It is full.

Full of the stadium somewhere behind you. Full of the fact that this is Jimin. Full of the fact that he is standing too close, speaking like you are not a stranger he pulled into a corridor five minutes ago.

Your mouth opens slightly.

Nothing comes out.

Your brain finally forces a question to the surface.

What.

He watches your confusion register. His eyes soften slightly, and for the first time there is a crack in the intensity, like he realizes you are not following everything.

He shifts, leaning back just a fraction, giving you the smallest amount of space against the wall.

Then he switches to English.

Careful. Slightly uneven.

“I kept losing focus on stage.”

Your breath is still unsteady, but at least now you can understand him clearly.

He continues, eyes still locked on yours.

“I would be performing, and then I would look for a second, and you were not in my sight.”

A pause.

His fingers curl slightly at his side, like he is restraining something restless in his own body.

“And I could not stop thinking about it.”

Your heart is beating so hard it feels loud in your ears again, even without the stadium.

You manage a small, broken sound. Not a word. Just disbelief trying to become speech.

He nods once, like he understands that reaction more than he wants to.

Then he speaks again, softer now, but no less direct.

“I do not know why it was happening today.”

His eyes move over your face again, slower this time, like he is trying to confirm something that still does not make sense even to him.

“I have performed hundreds of times,” he says. “But today… I kept feeling like I needed to see you.”

The word see lands heavier this time.

Not just notice.

Not just glance.

See.

Like you were supposed to be part of something that he could not complete without you being there.

Your back is still against the wall. His proximity has not changed much, only softened at the edges.

And then he adds, quieter, almost like he is admitting something he did not plan to say out loud.

“I thought I was imagining it at first.”

A beat.

“But it kept happening again.”

He tilts his head slightly, studying you in a way that feels less like performance and more like confusion mixed with certainty that should not coexist.

“And when I finally saw you clearly during ‘Fake Love’…” he pauses, swallowing slightly. “It felt like something clicked.”

Your fingers tighten slightly against the wall behind you, grounding yourself in something physical because nothing else feels stable.

You force yourself to speak, voice thin.

“You… you saw me?”

That is all you can manage. Stupidest question ever since you know he did and acknowledged your poster, but double confirmation from him would be nice.

He nods immediately.

“Yes.”

Simple.

Absolute.

No hesitation.

Then, after a pause that feels heavier than anything before it, he adds in English again, quieter now.

“I could not stop looking after that.”

The corridor hums faintly.

Somewhere far away, staff voices echo briefly, then fade again.

He does not move away.

You do not move either.

And in the strange silence between a stadium full of people and a hallway meant for nobody, it becomes very clear that whatever this is, it did not end when the concert did.

Your mind latches onto the only logical thread it can find, even as your body refuses to fully cooperate with logic anymore.

Did it actually work?

Did the One Wish Willow actually fucking work?

That stupid seven-dollar box sitting at the bottom of your bag. A joke. A souvenir. Something you were supposed to laugh about later.

Now nothing about this feels like a joke.

Jimin is still standing in front of you.

Too close. Too real.

And then his hands lift.

Slowly.

Carefully.

He cups your face like he is testing whether you are solid.

His palms are warm through the chill of the hallway air, thumbs resting just under your cheekbones. For a moment, his expression shifts like something inside him tightens again, like even gentle contact is not enough to settle whatever is happening in his head.

His voice drops, and this time he speaks in Korean again, slower than before, like he is choosing each word as it comes out.

“볼수록…” he murmurs. [“The more I look at you…”]

His gaze drags over your face like he is trying to memorize it in real time.

“너를…” he continues, then stops briefly, exhaling through his nose. [“You…”]

Then he finishes it, voice quieter but heavier.

“가지고 싶어져.” [“I want to have you.”]

A pause.

Not loud. Not dramatic.

Just heavy in the way silence becomes heavy when someone says something they were not supposed to say out loud.

His thumbs press slightly more firmly against your cheeks, not painful, but enough that you feel the intensity sharpen.

“그냥 보는 걸로는 부족해.” [“Just looking is not enough.”]

Your breath catches.

Not because you understand everything perfectly, but because you understand enough.

Enough to feel the meaning behind it pressing into the space between you.

His eyes flicker across yours again, like he is checking your reaction, and something in him seems to lean forward before he consciously decides to follow it.

The distance between you disappears further. The distance between you vanishes.

Jimin’s mouth finds yours like he’s been starving for it, slow at first, almost reverent, lips soft and plush as they press against yours. Then the hunger takes over. His hands slide from your cheeks into your hair, gripping just tight enough to tilt your head back as he deepens the kiss. His tongue slips past your lips, hot and insistent, tasting you like he wants to devour every small sound you make.

You moan into his mouth and he answers with a low, throaty sound of his own, pressing you back against the cool wall of the hallway. His body is solid heat against yours, firm chest, narrow waist, the hard line of his thigh pushing between your legs. One of his hands drops to your hip, fingers digging in as he rolls his hips forward, letting you feel exactly how much he wants you.

“Fuck…” he breathes against your lips in English this time, the word ragged. Then he’s kissing you again, filthier, tongue stroking deep and slow while his hand slides under the hem of your shirt. His palm is scorching against your bare skin, fingertips tracing up your ribs until he cups your breast, thumb brushing over your nipple through your thin bra. It pebbles instantly under his touch and he groans, pinching lightly, rolling it until your back arches off the wall.

You clutch at his shoulders, the ash hoodie fabric bunching in your fists. He’s still in stage clothes underneath, sweat-damp tank top clinging to his body, and the scent of him fills your head: clean sweat, faint cologne, and something darker, purely him. You suck on his tongue and he shudders, grinding harder against you, the very obvious ridge of his cock pressing insistently against your thigh.

“너 때문에…” he pants between kisses, voice wrecked. “이렇게 됐어… [Because of you… I’m like this…]”

His mouth trails down to your jaw, then your neck. He bites, sharp enough to sting, then soothes it with his tongue, sucking a mark right below your ear while his hand squeezes your breast harder. Your hips jerk against his thigh, chasing friction, and he chuckles darkly against your skin before kissing you again, messier this time. Lips wet, tongues sliding, spit-slick and desperate. His free hand grips your ass, pulling you tighter against him so you can feel every inch of his hardness rocking against you.

You’re both breathing hard, almost panting into each other’s mouths. His forehead rests against yours for half a second, eyes half-lidded and glassy with want, before he dives back in-kissing you like the world is ending, like this stolen hallway is the only place left. One of your hands slips under his hoodie, nails dragging down his back, and he hisses, hips snapping forward again in response.

He’s just starting to push your shirt higher, mouth moving down toward your chest, when–

A sound cuts through the hallway.

Footsteps.

Sharp. Controlled. Fast.

A voice follows immediately, colder than everything else in the corridor.

“지민아.” [“Jimin.”]

The spell breaks instantly for a moment.

Jimin’s hands drop from your face like he has been shocked. His entire posture changes in a single snap, shoulders tightening, breath shifting.

He turns his head.

RM is standing at the end of the corridor.

His expression is not confused at first.

It is sharp.

Then it turns fully into disbelief.

His eyes move from Jimin to you, then back to Jimin.

“뭐 하는 거야?” [“What the hell are you doing?”]

Jimin takes a half step back so quickly it looks involuntary, like his body is suddenly remembering it is supposed to have boundaries.

“What the fuck?” his eyes widen, and mutters under his breath, but not directed at anyone in particular, like he is realizing the situation at the exact same time everyone else is.

He looks down briefly, running a hand over his face, then turns slightly away from you as if trying to physically reset himself.

The shift is so abrupt it makes your stomach drop. What’s going on?

It’s as if someone just turned the volume of reality back on too fast.

Namjoon steps closer, eyes narrowing as he takes in the corridor, the distance between you and Jimin, the way Jimin is standing like he is trying to reassemble his own thoughts.

“무슨 일이야?” Namjoon asks, voice controlled but clearly strained. [“What is going on?”]

Jimin does not answer immediately.

Namjoon exhales sharply, looking between you both again.

“끝나고 나서 너 갑자기 후드 쓰고 마스크 쓰고 뛰쳐나갔다며.” [“After the show ended, you suddenly grabbed a hoodie and a mask and ran off.”]

He gestures vaguely down the corridor.

“스태프들이 계속 찾고 있었어.” [“The staff have been looking for you everywhere.”]

A beat.

Then his eyes flick to you again, slower this time, assessing.

Jimin suddenly lets out a short, strange laugh.

It is not the kind of laugh that belongs in this moment.

It is too light.

Too detached.

Namjoon notices immediately, his expression shifting.

“왜 웃어?” [“Why are you laughing?”]

Jimin tilts his head slightly, still half turned away, then looks back at you like he has just remembered you are there in a different way than before.

Then he says, in Korean, almost casually:

“그냥… 이 팬이 눈에 들어와서.” [“Just… this fan caught my eye.”]

His gaze lingers on you.

Then he adds, slower:

“같이 데려가고 싶었어.” [“I wanted to bring her with me.”]

Namjoon scoffs immediately.

“호텔까지?” [“To the hotel?”]

His disbelief sharpens.

“너 지금 우리 전부 다 걸고 그런 짓을 한 거야?” [“You’re putting all of our reputations on the line for that?”]

He gestures between Jimin and the corridor like he cannot believe he is having to say this out loud.

“그냥 데려가서 여기서 키스라도 하려고 한 거야?” [“Did you just drag her here to kiss her in a hallway?”]

The air goes still again, but this time it is different.

Not charged.

Just heavy with consequences.

Jimin opens his mouth like he is about to respond, then closes it again.

His expression shifts slightly, like he is trying to grasp something that keeps slipping out of reach.

Then, unexpectedly, he starts laughing again.

Softly at first.

Then a little more.

Namjoon stares at him like he is no longer sure what he is looking at.

You do not move.

You cannot tell if you should.

Jimin finally looks at Namjoon properly, still smiling faintly like the situation is slightly unreal to him.

Then he says, in Korean:

“형, 그냥 영어로 말해줘.” [“Hyung, just tell her in English.”]

A pause.

Namjoon blinks.

“뭐라고?” he asks, voice flat with disbelief. [“What?”]

Jimin tilts his head slightly toward you again, eyes briefly sharpening as if refocusing on the original thread that started all of this.

His voice lowers when he speaks next, calmer now, but still unsettling in its certainty.

“그냥 영어로 말해줘.” he says first, almost absentmindedly, like he is setting the tone of the moment for himself. [“Just say it in English.”]

Then, after a beat, he adds in Korean, slower, deliberate, as if each word has already been decided and there is no room left to argue with it.

“데려간다고 말해.” [“Tell her she’s coming with us.”]

Namjoon does not move right away.

The word hangs in the corridor like something physically uncomfortable.

“데려간다고?” he repeats, slower this time, like saying it again might make it make sense. [“Bring her with us?”]

His eyes flick to Jimin first. Then to you. Then back again, sharper now.

“지민아, 너 지금 무슨 말 하는지 알아?” [“Jimin, do you know what you are saying right now?”]

Jimin does not look away.

He stands straighter now, like the earlier instability has been replaced with something more fixed, more certain in a way that is almost worse.

“I know,” he says simply in Korean, then exhales once. “알아.” [“I know.”]

Namjoon lets out a quiet breath through his nose, frustration and concern mixing in a way that makes his voice drop lower.

“아까부터 이상했어.” [“You’ve been strange since earlier.”]

He gestures slightly toward Jimin, controlled but tense.

“무대에서도 집중이 계속 끊겼고, 스태프들도 봤어.” [“Even on stage, you kept losing focus, and the staff noticed.”]

His gaze sharpens.

“이거 그냥 넘길 문제가 아니야.” [“This is not something we can just ignore.”]

Jimin’s jaw tightens slightly, but he still does not step back.

Namjoon finally looks at you properly now, like he is including you in something he did not plan for. It makes you nervous. He is your bias wrecker after all.

Then he switches to English, voice softer but very deliberate.

“I need you to listen carefully.”

You swallow.

He glances briefly back at Jimin before continuing.

"Jimin wants you to come with us."

A pause.

Not dramatic. Just heavy. The kind of pause where a single second stretches long enough for your pulse to beat twice, three times, while your brain tries to assemble the sentence into something that makes sense.

"Okay…" The word comes out before you can stop it. Neutral. Question shaped. A placeholder while your mind scrambles for footing.

Namjoon's expression tightens slightly. Not anger. Something closer to the careful patience of someone explaining the rules of a game you haven't agreed to play.

He adds, more carefully now, "But you need to understand… this is not normal."

His eyes flick down the corridor, checking for what? Security? Staff? Other fans spilling out of nearby exits? Then back to you.

"I think he is going through something. Mentally. Like a crisis. I don't know what triggered it, but this behavior is not like him."

Behind Namjoon, Jimin says nothing. Doesn't move. Just keeps smiling that small, knowing smile, watching you like you are the only person left in the world. 

Something cold traces down your spine. Not fear. Not yet. But the awareness that the ground has shifted beneath your feet, and you haven't noticed until just now.

Namjoon's voice drops lower, pulling your attention back.

"I am not letting you be pressured." He says it like a fact. Like a line he has already drawn in his own mind and will not cross. "But I also cannot just leave you like this in the middle of Allegiant Stadium."

He exhales, a slow controlled breath, and takes a step slightly closer to you. Close enough that the ambient noise of the departing crowd seems to recede. Close enough that his next words feel like they are being placed directly into your ribs.

"If you go with us, you stay calm. You do not post anything. You do not record anything. You do not argue. You just go where we go and we figure this out."

His eyes sharpen. Not cruel. Precise. The way a leader's eyes sharpen when they know the margin for error has just shrunk to nothing.

"And you tell your friends you left with other people from the concert. Other friends. Tell them you'll be back at their hotel tomorrow. You understand?"

A beat of silence. Then, softer, "Can you do that?"

"Yes." You blush a bit from his authoritative tone, which is one of the things you love about him.

The word leaves your mouth at the exact same moment your phone buzzes in your hand.

You glance down instinctively.

No signal.

That's strange. The stadium has been crowded all night, but your service has held. Now the bars at the top of your screen sit empty, replaced by a small, blinking icon you don't recognize.

Another flicker. The screen stutters, ghost inputs, a lag you have never seen before, and for a split second, the edges of your wallpaper pixelate into gray static.

Then your phone dims.

Not the slow fade of low battery. Not the auto brightness adjusting to the corridor's fluorescent glare. This is different. It is like the screen is struggling. Like something is pulling the life out of it in real time.

The phone goes dark.

Then it lights up again, dimmer. Then dark. Then dim.

Namjoon notices this.

You see the exact moment he does, the slight pause in his breathing, the way his gaze drops to your hand for half a second too long.

"That's fine," he says quickly, already interpreting it, already smoothing over whatever jagged edge has just appeared in the air between you. "Your phone is probably overloaded with the mass usage of the stadium network. Just say you couldn't share location."

His tone is steady, but there is tension underneath it now.

Jimin finally speaks again, quietly in Korean.

“형, 빨리 가.” [“Hyung, let’s go quickly.”]

Namjoon does not respond immediately. His eyes stay on you for another second, like he is still deciding whether this is a mistake that can be stopped.

Then he exhales once, sharply.

“Okay,” he says in English, more to himself than anyone else.

He turns slightly, gesturing down the corridor.

“Follow me.”

The walk with them feels unreal.

Not fast. Not chaotic at all.

Controlled, like your body has been inserted into someone else’s world and is now expected to cooperate with the storyline it's now in.

The corridors shift from narrow backstage passages into wider service halls. You pass staff areas, locked doors, rolling equipment cases. Every sound feels muted, like the building is underwater now.

Then you reach the loading area.

The air changes again.

Colder. More open. Outside doors are partially raised, letting in flashes of Las Vegas night light, distant traffic, and the lingering echo of a stadium that is still emptying out behind you.

A black Escalade is already waiting. The usual ones that transport BTS, that is.

Engine running.

Lights on.

Other members are not here.

Just this one car.

Just Namjoon, Jimin, and you.

Security is stationed nearby. A few staff members in BTS tour uniforms. And near the vehicle, a man you recognize from earlier briefings, likely head of security, labeled Mr Lee by the staff.

He looks at you immediately.

Not with curiosity.

With assessment.

Like you are a problem that has entered a controlled environment.

His eyes flick between you, Jimin, and Namjoon in quick succession.

One of the security staff leans slightly toward Mr Lee, speaking under his breath.

Namjoon notices immediately and steps forward before it escalates.

“괜찮아요.” he says firmly in Korean. [“It’s okay.”]

Then he switches to English for clarity, voice calm but authoritative.

“She’s with me. She’s a friend.”

There is a pause.

The security team does not look convinced.

Mr Lee’s gaze lingers on you a moment longer than comfortable, then shifts back to Namjoon.

A quiet exchange happens between them without words needing to be said.

Then, finally, Mr Lee gives a short nod.

No approval.

Just acceptance of responsibility being transferred.

No one argues out loud, but the air says everything anyway.

Namjoon opens the door to the Escalade.

“Get in,” he says gently, looking at you again.

Behind him, Jimin is already waiting, eyes fixated on you like the decision was never really open to question at all.

And the night outside of the venue, fans continue to walk home, unaware that something with bts has already changed direction completely.

he car ride feels wrong in the way dreams feel wrong. Not frightening at first, just assembled incorrectly, with pieces that belong to different realities forced into the same scene.

The black Escalade pulls away from Allegiant Stadium smoothly and disappears into the Las Vegas night with dark windows and practiced timing. Outside, the Strip is exactly what you imagined it would be after Day 1 of a BTS concert. Thousands of people flood the sidewalks in every direction. Lightsticks still glow in people’s hands. Fans carry banners rolled under their arms and film themselves while walking in crowds thick enough to slow traffic. Cars inch forward beneath giant LED billboards and neon reflections.

You should be out there.

You should be squeezed between your friends, complaining that your feet hurt and replaying every moment from the show. You should be hearing someone insist Jimin definitely looked in your direction at one point. You should be heading back to the ARIA, where you're staying at, and deciding whether overpriced room service is worth it. Or if you should door dash some food from somewhere.

Instead, you’re here.

Inside a black SUV.

With Jimin and Namjoon.

You unlock your phone.

It freezes once before opening. The screen flickers for a second before stabilizing and immediately reveals a flood of notifications.

Friend 1: WHERE ARE YOU HELLO????

Friend 2: DID U LEAVE WITHOUT US?? WHERE'D YOU GO?

Friend 1:YOU LEFT YOUR POSTER BTW I'LL SAVE IT.

You stare at the keyboard.

Your fingers hover for longer than necessary.

Eventually you type:

you: sorry!! ran into some friends from online and hanging out for a bit 😭 my phone is glitching rn and i cant share location

you: but im okay!! don’t wait up if i’m late

You stare at the message again after sending it. It looks normal enough. Weird, but not alarming. Your friends know concerts are chaotic. People split up all the time. They won't question this at all, right?

You lock your phone.

Only then do you realize one of your hands feels warm.

You look down.

Jimin is holding it.

There is nothing dramatic about it. His fingers are loosely intertwined with yours between the seats as though he reached over without thinking and never stopped. He isn’t gripping tightly. He isn’t even looking at your hand.

He’s looking at you.

Not glancing.

Looking.

You’ve spent years watching performances, interviews, clips, fan interactions, livestreams. You know his expressions. You know what his performance face looks like. You know what his fanservice face looks like. You know what his polite public smile looks like.

This isn’t any of those.

His eyes look almost unfocused around the edges, soft in a way that makes your stomach feel strange. Like he found something unexpectedly beautiful and cannot stop checking whether it’s still there.

His thumb brushes lightly across your knuckles once.

You look away first.

On your other side, Namjoon sits with his elbow resting against the door. His expression is neutral, but not relaxed. His phone keeps lighting up. You accidentally catch pieces of the group chat reflected faintly in the screen.

Jungkook asking where they are.

Taehyung asking if everyone’s alive.

Jin saying staff is really upset with them right now.

Namjoon types for a while.

Namjoon: Found him. Coming back. Will explain.

Then another message appears.

Namjoon: Actually.

Namjoon: Something’s weird.

He sends it.

Locks the screen.

And goes back to staring out the tinted window.

After a while he finally turns slightly toward you and says in English, quietly enough that it feels private, “You okay?”

You blink.

The question feels too normal.

You swallow and answer honestly. “I think so.”

Namjoon nods once and looks away again before saying, “You don’t have to be afraid,” then pauses briefly before adding, “but I know this is strange.”

You almost laugh.

Strange feels like the wrong word for being pulled out of a stadium by your celebrity crush after making a suspiciously specific wish to a fake magic item.

The ride ends before your brain can finish processing any of it.

Eventually the scenery outside changes. The Strip becomes cleaner. Taller. More expensive.

Then the SUV turns and your eyes widen slightly when you realize where.

The Waldorf Astoria.

Which feels absurd because you and your friends are staying at ARIA. Practically next door.

The car doesn't approach the front entrance. Instead it descends into a private underground level. Concrete walls. Controlled access. Security checkpoints. Quiet lighting. The kind of infrastructure designed specifically so famous people never have to become public if they don't want to.

The vehicle comes to a smooth stop. Before anyone can speak, Jimin opens the door and gets out. Then he immediately turns and reaches for you. You grab your things and take his hand because, apparently, that is what your body does now. You are not questioning anything right now. He pulls gently but decisively, and suddenly you're moving again. Namjoon unfolds his tall frame from the backseat and follows behind with the energy of someone who has accepted this situation without approving of it.

You're led through the garage toward a set of elevators tucked behind another secured entry point. Private elevators. No guests. No chance encounters with fans or sasaengs. Jimin pulls you inside, grip firm and possessive, and Namjoon steps in right after you, earning a visible eye roll from Jimin.

Jimin presses the button to close the elevator doors immediately before any of their staff could enter with them. Three's already a crowd, he thinks.

Once again you're sandwiched tightly between them, Jimin facing directly in front of you, Namjoon behind you. There's space. And no escape. The elevator starts its smooth ascent and your pulse spikes.

Oh god, not here. Not with both of them like this. Your mind races. You can feel every inch of them. Your clothes are wrinkled, your makeup is ruined, and these stupid foldable flats make you feel small and unprepared.

Jimin notices the split second your eyes flick toward Namjoon. His expression shifts instantly, still calm, but now sharply attentive. He leans in closer, chest brushing yours, and murmurs low against your ear in Korean.

"여기 봐요." Look at me.

Your face burns as you obey. The second your gaze meets his, his eyes soften with dark satisfaction. Then he dips his head without hesitation.

His lips find the side of your neck, hot and deliberate. He kisses you open mouthed, slow and wet, sucking gently at first before dragging his teeth along your pulse point. A helpless little whimper escapes your throat before you can stop it. Embarrassment floods you. Namjoon is right there, inches away, witnessing every second of this. But the shame only makes your body react stronger. Heat pools low in your belly.

Jimin smiles against your skin, clearly loving it. He loves the sound you made, loves how you tremble knowing you have an audience. His hand slides around your waist, pulling you tighter against him as he kisses lower, sucking harder at the sensitive spot just above your collarbone. His tongue traces slow, filthy circles before he nips again, hard enough to make you gasp.

You can feel Namjoon's solid warmth at your back, his body heat radiating through your clothes. The elevator feels impossibly small. Jimin's free hand trails up your side, thumb deliberately brushing the underside of your breast through your dress, teasing the curve as his mouth continues its assault on your neck. Licking. Sucking. Marking you.

Another needy, breathy moan slips out of you. Jimin's grip tightens possessively, his breath hot and ragged against your damp skin. He's completely lost in teasing you now, staring deeply into your eyes whenever he pulls back for air, his gaze hooded and hungry.

Behind you, Namjoon clears his throat. Loudly. He stares fixedly at the glowing floor numbers like they are the most fascinating thing in the world, his jaw tight, his ears visibly red. This is probably one of the most embarassing moments of his life, and he can't believe Jimin's audacity right now. 

Mortified of being watched by your bias wrecker, you push weakly at Jimin's chest, your voice shaky and breathless. "Jimin, Namjoon is right here. Let's save this for when we're alone."

Jimin scoffs, low and amused, his lips still grazing your flushed, marked neck. He steals one last slow, deliberate kiss right under your jaw, tongue flicking teasingly, before he finally pulls back. His eyes stay locked on yours, dark and full of filthy promise.

The elevator doors open with a soft ding.

The hallway outside is quiet and expensive in a way only luxury hotels can be. Thick carpet. Soft lighting. Closed suite doors.

Before Namjoon fully exits, Jimin moves.

He takes your wrist and starts walking quickly.

“지민아,” Namjoon calls.

Jimin doesn’t stop.

One door.

A keycard.

A green light.

The door opens.

You’re pulled inside.

And before Namjoon reaches it–

Click.

Locked.

Outside of that door, there’s now silence.

Namjoon stands there staring at the door for a second before letting out a tired sigh.

Nearby, other doors open.

Jungkook appears first and looks around before asking, “왔어?” [You’re back?]

Then he notices one person missing and asks, “지민이 어디 갔어?” [Where did Jimin go?]

Other doors open.

Jin.

Taehyung.

Yoongi.

Hoseok.

Namjoon rubs his face and says quietly, “…나도 아직 잘 모르겠어.” […I still don’t really know.]

Everyone waits.

Then he adds, “근데 여자 한 명 데려왔어.” [But he brought a girl.]

The hallway goes silent.

Jin immediately lowers his voice and asks, almost whispering, “…팬?” […A fan?]

Namjoon nods.

Jin rolls his eyes.

Taehyung blinks once before saying casually, “지민이 성적으로 너무 답답했던 거 아냐? 오랜만에 투어잖아.” [Maybe Jimin’s sexually frustrated? It’s been a long tour.]

Hoseok immediately smacks his arm. “야.” [“Hey.”]

Taehyung rubs his shoulder dramatically and frowns.

“왜? 진지하게 말한 건데.” [“What? I’m being serious.”]

Jin lets out a quiet breath through his nose and mutters under his breath. “진짜 별소리를 다 하네.” [“You really say the most ridiculous things.”]

Yoongi shakes his head before Taehyung can continue and says quietly, “아냐.” [No.]

Everyone looks over.

Yoongi crosses his arms loosely and leans against the wall.

“대기실에서도 이상했어. 계속 멍 때리고 있었어.” [“He was strange in the dressing room too. He kept spacing out.”]

His expression turns thoughtful.

“…집중을 못하는 느낌?” […“Like he couldn’t focus?”]

Hoseok nods slowly.

“맞아.” [“Yeah.”]

He glances toward Jimin’s closed hotel room door.

“…누구 찾는 것 같기도 했고.” […“And it kind of felt like he was looking for someone.”]

That makes Namjoon’s expression tighten.

He noticed it too.

Not enough to interrupt the concert.

Not enough to panic.

But enough.

Enough that he checked on Jimin between transitions.

Enough that he remembered him staring too long toward one side of Allegiant Stadium before snapping back into choreography.

Enough that he noticed Jimin miss a cue during rehearsal and brush it off.

Namjoon looks back at the closed suite door.

Then quietly says:

“…공연 중에도 그랬어.” […“He was like that during the show too.”]

Nobody says anything after that. Because suddenly this feels less like recklessness.

And more like something none of them understand.

The hallway goes quiet. Namjoon stares at the closed door for several more seconds.

That is their shared grand presidential suite.

Normally they barely saw each other once schedules ended. Separate bedrooms. Separate routines. Namjoon goes out often to avoid feeling enclosed in these concrete buildings only meant for their temporary lodging.

But tonight…

His eyes linger on the door.

He thinks back to the corridor.

The look on Jimin’s face.

Too focused.

Too emotional.

Too....unlike himself.

Namjoon exhales.

Then turns.

“…오늘은 내가 다른 방 써도 돼?” […“Can I stay in someone else’s room tonight?”]

Everyone looks at him.

Jungkook blinks, confused.

“왜?” [“Why?”]

Namjoon rubs the back of his neck.

“그냥… 좀 놔두는 게 좋을 것 같아서.” [“I just think… it’d be better to leave him alone tonight.”]

His eyes drift back toward the closed door.

“생각 정리할 시간 필요할 수도 있잖아.” [“He might need time to organize his thoughts.”]

His shoulders lift slightly.

“…내가 옆에 있으면 오히려 불편할 수도 있고.” […“Me being there might make it harder.”]

Nobody speaks immediately.

Jin studies him.

Then quietly asks:

“너 괜찮겠어?” [“You okay with that?”]

Namjoon exhales softly.

Not really.

But he nods.

“내일 되면 괜찮아질 수도 있지.” [“Maybe tomorrow things will be better.”]

His eyes lower.

“…그냥 오늘 하루 이상했던 거면 좋겠어.” […“I just hope today was weird and that’s all.”]

A pause.

Then Jungkook lifts his hand.

“형 와!” [“Hyung, come stay with me!”]

Taehyung immediately points.

“야 왜 너만.” [“Hey, why only you?”]

Jungkook looks offended.

“내 방 제일 커.” [“My room’s the biggest.”]

Taehyung scoffs.

“내 방도 커.” [“My room’s big too.”]

Jin immediately cuts in.

“둘 다 조용히 해.” [“Both of you, be quiet.”]

That finally earns a small smile from Namjoon.

Small.

Tired.

He nods.

“고맙다.” [“Thanks.”]

Before leaving, though, he looks at Jimin’s door one more time.

For a second he considers knocking.

Checking in.

Talking.

But he stops himself.

Jimin isn’t dangerous.

He’s overwhelmed.

Exhausted.

Maybe emotional after finally touring again.

Maybe tomorrow they’ll talk.

Maybe tomorrow Jimin will apologize.

Maybe tomorrow things will feel normal again.

Namjoon turns and follows Jungkook down the hallway.

Behind him, the door stays closed.

And he doesn’t notice that for the first time in years…

he feels uneasy leaving Jimin alone.

Meanwhile, behind the locked hotel room door, you stand in unfamiliar silence and realize for the first time all night that there are no crowds now, no friends, no staff, no excuses.

You are completely alone with him.

The place is quieter than you expected.

Not silent. Hotels are never truly silent. There is still the low hum of the air conditioning somewhere overhead, the faint vibration of elevators traveling through hidden shafts in the walls, and the distant pulse of Las Vegas existing dozens of floors below. But compared to the roaring stadium, the screaming crowds, the lights and constant movement, it feels unnaturally still.

And huge.

You hadn’t actually processed where you were until now.

Your eyes drift upward first.

The ceilings are absurdly high.

Then outward.

The suite opens far beyond what your brain expected when someone says hotel room.

It isn’t even a room.

It feels like an apartment.

No. Bigger than that.

A long central living space stretches ahead with polished wood floors and designer furniture arranged so intentionally that it almost feels untouched. There’s a sitting area with couches and a television mounted into the wall. Farther in, a dining area. Decorative lighting. Another hallway branching deeper into the suite.

Your brain immediately compares it to your room at ARIA.

Two queen beds shared amongst three women. Suitcases exploded across every available surface that is NOT a bed. Phone chargers fighting for outlets. Someone’s makeup bag permanently open for the duration of the trip.

This feels ridiculous in comparison.

Your eyes continue wandering.

There’s another side of the suite too.

You notice another closed bedroom farther away across the living space. Bigger than a normal connecting room. Another member probably stays there.

You wonder who.

Not that you’d ask.

For some reason the thought of accidentally opening the wrong door and discovering another BTS member relaxing in pajamas or even naked feels more embarrassing than ending up backstage with Jimin.

Your attention shifts back.

Jimin is watching you.

Not intensely this time.

Almost shy.

Like he forgot what this would look like through someone else’s eyes.

You glance around once more and laugh quietly.

“…Your room is huge.”

His expression softens immediately.

He looks around too.

Then gives a small shrug.

“익숙해져서 잘 몰라요.” [“I’m used to it, so I don’t really notice anymore.”]

Then after a second he smiles faintly.

“…근데 그렇게 말하니까 갑자기 큰 것 같네요.” […“But hearing you say it makes it suddenly feel big.”]

"Hehe, yeah.." You smile back at him.

He stands there for another second before walking over.

Without really thinking, he reaches for your wrist again.

Not pulling.

Just guiding it.

His fingers wrap loosely around your hand this time.

Then he quietly says:

“이쪽이에요.” [“This way.”]

He leads you across the suite.

Not toward the center.

Toward the left side.

As you walk farther in, the layout starts making more sense.

The shared spaces stay behind.

The hallway narrows.

There’s a bedroom tucked off separately, with its own bathroom and sitting area outside the room.

This must be his room.

When Jimin opens the door, you notice now how his actual bedroom feels more lived in than the rest of the place.

A hoodie tossed over a chair.

A phone cable plugged in.

Water bottles.

A few bags.

Enough signs of actual life that suddenly this stops feeling like a luxury hotel and starts feeling strangely personal.

Jimin releases your wrist after he closes and locks the bedroom door.

For the first time since he pulled you from your seat at Allegiant, he seems uncertain.

He glances around once, then quietly walks to the edge of the bed and sits.

And just… sits.

His shoulders look different now.

Not smaller.

Just heavier.

You remain standing for a moment, watching him.

Finally he looks up at you.

His eyes still carry that earlier softness, but something else lies underneath now.

Fatigue.

Maybe embarrassment. Does he regret bringing you now? 

You swallow.

This feels like the moment you should ask about him.

You take a small breath and speak carefully.

“I wasn’t sure when the right time was to ask…”

His expression shifts.

“But… are you okay?”

His brows move slightly.

You look down briefly before meeting his eyes again. “What Namjoon said… about how you were acting during the concert.”

You hesitate.

“I know this probably sounds weird because I’m literally your fan and everything, but… I like you.” Your face warms. “I mean… obviously I do.”

That draws a faint smile from him.

You continue anyway. “But if something’s wrong… I don’t want to do something if you’re vulnerable or not okay.”

The room falls quiet.

Jimin stares at you. Then, unexpectedly, his eyes begin to water.

Your stomach drops.

His gaze lowers. His hands clasp together loosely. When he speaks, his voice is quieter. “Kind of. I’ll say it in Korean first, to let my feelings out, as it’s hard to describe in English.”

He exhales, then switches into Korean. “괜찮긴 했어요.” He looks at his hands. “근데…”

He lets out a short, embarrassed laugh. “나이 드는 게 생각보다 별로예요.”

You stay quiet, letting him continue.

“예전 같지가 않아요. 예전엔 하루 종일 연습하고 공연해도 괜찮았어요.”

He translates for you. “When I was younger… I felt unstoppable.” His smile is small. “But now… my body feels different. It doesn’t help that military happened.” His expression tightens. “I hated it.”

His voice lowers. “Coming back… touring again after so long… I keep thinking… what if I get hurt? What if I get sick? What if I can’t keep up and everyone has to slow down because of me?”

Your chest tightens.

He laughs once under his breath. “You know… I started noticing every little thing. My knees. My stamina. My breathing.” He smiles faintly. “And then I started thinking too much.”

He finally looks at you. “And today… I saw you.” He shrugs slightly. “And everything burden and problem disappeared.”

You think for a second, then walk over and sit beside him. Not too close. “You say all this like your value is in how perfectly you perform,” you say softly. “I think people came back because they missed you. You’re allowed to get tired. You’re allowed to not feel twenty forever.” You smile a little. “And honestly… if a member got hurt or needed a break, I think ARMY would want them to rest and be healthy more than perfect. You don’t carry everybody.”

His eyes soften. Then he laughs, small and real. His shoulders lower. “Thank you.”

After a moment his ears turn faintly pink. He looks embarrassed. “…I’m sorry. For grabbing you. And bringing you here suddenly.” He rubs the back of his neck. “This is probably really weird.”

You shake your head, expression softening. “There’s no need to apologize. I’m here… as a fan.” You pause. “And as a friend.”

His eyes widen slightly, then soften. After a moment he reaches for you slowly, carefully. His fingers curl around yours and he tugs gently, inviting.

“Will you stay tonight?” he asks quietly. “…I think I need comfort.”

Your heart twists. You nod. “Okay.”

His face relaxes. You both sit there for a while. Eventually he stands and begins to undress, leaving only his sweatpants on. Shirtless. His body is toned yet compact, bigger than yours but somehow delicate in the low light.

He pokes your side gently, nudging you to do the same. You undress, slipping out of your lace black dress, socks, and shoes until you’re left in your undergarments. He promises to give you one of his shirts afterward.

When you sit beside him again, a strange awareness settles between you. Not bad. Just heightened. You are suddenly very conscious that you are in a hotel room with Jimin at midnight.

He looks at you quietly, then smiles. “You being here… makes me really happy.”

Your face heats. “Really?”

“Yeah.” He scoots closer. “I thought if I got close I’d realize I imagined all of this. But you’re still here.”

He leans in and kisses you. Softly at first. Warm. Unrushed. His lips move against yours with tender care, deepening gradually as his tongue brushes yours. You lift a hand and touch his cheek, feeling the smooth warmth of his skin beneath your palm. He sighs into the kiss, the sound low and needy.

His hands find your waist. With gentle strength he helps guide you onto his lap until you straddle him. Your thighs settle on either side of his hips. The new position presses your bodies closer, and you feel the heat of his bare chest against you. His hands slide up your back, holding you there as the kiss grows slower, deeper, more sensual. Every brush of his tongue sends warmth spreading through your body.

Then suddenly he freezes. His eyes widen. He pushes you away, body jerking back. Fear flashes across his face angrily saying:

“씨발!…”

He moves too quickly and loses balance, falling off the bed.

You jolt upright. “뭐야?!” A word in korean slips out, “What? Why did you do that?”

He sits up, rubbing his face. “I-I’m sorry. I don’t know why I did that.” His breathing is uneven. “I’ve had weird experiences before… with people. Something in my brain… triggered.”

“You’re scaring me a bit.:

“I know, I know. I’m sorry! Please forget about it.”

You stare at him, chest aching at the genuine fear in his eyes. He notices your concern and reaches over, squeezing your hand. “I’ll make it up to you,” he says quietly.

He does.

Jimin coaxes you onto your back with soft kisses along your jaw and neck. He peels away the last of your undergarments with careful hands, then settles between your thighs. His mouth is warm and insistent. He starts slow, teasing licks and gentle kisses that make your hips twitch. Then he grows bolder, tongue pressing flat and dragging over your most sensitive spot before circling it with focused intent.

Your fingers thread through his hair as pleasure builds. He hums against you, the vibration pulling a moan from your throat. He doesn’t rush. He savors every reaction, every gasp, adjusting to what makes your thighs tremble around his head. When release finally crashes over you, sharp and overwhelming, he keeps going, gentling you through it until you’re boneless and panting.

Afterward he climbs back up, lips shiny, and kisses your forehead. He disappears into the bathroom for a moment and returns with a warm, damp cloth. With tender care he cleans you, wiping away the evidence of your orgasm with slow, soothing strokes. He presses a soft kiss to your inner thigh, then helps you slip into one of his oversized shirts before pulling you into his arms.

Eventually the tension fades. Conversation replaces the awkwardness. Exhaustion wins.

Later he curls behind you in bed, one arm draped around your waist, warm and sleepy. You both drift off like that.

At 3:45 AM you wake and quietly slip into the bathroom outside the bedroom with your phone to pee. Notifications from friends, memes, photos. No stress calls from friends asking if you've been kidnapped luckily. You'll craft a story later that will prevent them from knowing what's going on.

Then you open reddit and search up the one thing that has been bothering you the most: One Wish Willow. Only two reddit threads with comments come up. People swearing it worked. Others calling it coincidence. Warnings not to wish vaguely. Things going to shit. Warnings not to wish emotionally. Suggestions to buy a crystal for protection...

Your stomach twists.

If this actually worked… why does everything feel so off? Especially with Jimin?

You stare at your reflection, then lock your phone. Nothing bad has happened. Maybe you’re overthinking.

When you return, Jimin is already awake, sitting on the bed, menacingly. His eyes find you immediately, but they look dead. You’re scared to address him being awake, so you plan to ignore it and lay down to continue your sleep.

However Jimin decides to speak.

“어디 갔어요?” His voice sounds clear as day, with a tint of frustration. He speaks in korean, and you manage to understand what he says thanks to the countless kdramas you’ve seen. Not a hard question to answer.

“The bathroom.”

His shoulders tense. “I thought you left.”

You smile and settle back down beside him. “I’m not leaving any time soon. I willl tell you when I go later in the morning. I have to meet my friends.”

His brows knit. “…later?”

You nod. “Yes, I’m going to the concert later too.” You tell him you forgot the exact row, but your seat should be closer this time.

His expression visibly relaxes. “좋아.” Then, quieter: “I want to see you. At all times.”

Your chest tightens at the words, but you don’t question them. Instead you let him pull you closer, holding you like he needs to be sure you are still there.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

Is it odd to say you’re progressively starting to feel a bit weirder about this. But will you do anything about it? Despite the strange situation you’re in, the answer is no. - - ▶ cue: Emotions by Brenda Lee 

↻      ◁ II ▷     ↺

- -

Wind

Wind was lucky enough to not get hit at all when the attack first came.

He sees Wild get back up and rip his arrow out of his torso and Warrior takes the arrow out of his tunic in a similar manner, not actually getting pierced by it.

Wind feels the adrenaline begin to kick in the second the monsters break the tree line.

Everyone scatters to take the creatures down and he’s no exception.

The monsters seem to be normal this time around and he’s glad. He takes a second to take a deep breath and scans the horizon trying to figure out exactly where everyone went.

Time and Twilight are close to each other, fighting nearly back to back as they takes down all the monsters around them in quick succession.

Legend and Hyrule are behind him, not fighting together but near enough where they’re in each others line of sight. 

He doesn’t know where Wild went off to and he can’t see Warrior even if he hears him grit out his frustrations just beyond the tree line.

Sky and Four and also no where to be found and he has to stop what he’s doing when the next monsters jump at him.

Suddenly a new monster roars and it’s not one Wind is familiar with. He’s beginning to feel the nerves of the battle sink in and he hopes that the others have enough experience under their belt to deal with the new threat on the field because he doubts he can do anything about it.

“HELP!”

That’s you. 

Wind glances over his shoulder and sees nothing. He gulps and tries to finish off the bokoblin as fast as he can to get to you. With a quick prayer, he hopes that the new creature isn’t anywhere near you and that this battle ends faster than usual.

“Someone help me!″ You cry again and Wind grits his teeth, striking the bokoblin as hard as he can. With a familiar cloud of purple smoke surrounding him, he dashes in your general direction.

“LINK HELP ME!”

Wind slows to stop despite his better judgment- completely being overtaken by the frozen fear in his veins.

You’re asking for him. He needs to help you. He doesn’t know where you are. He doesn’t know where to start. He doesn’t know how he’s going to do this.

He sees Wild dash off faster than what should be possible into the forest and somehow finds it within himself to follow him.

Hyrule and Legend are quick to follow the trail to where the monster has to be and pass him in no time.

What he sees freezes him a second time. 

Wild on top of the monsters back- something that Wind has never seen before- you’re trapped and captured, completely wrapped up in rope and blood and there’s something- multiple somethings- sticking out of your body.

Legend doesn’t hesitate to break out of his funk first and blast the creature with his magic rod to hell and back.

Hyrule follows his lead and attacks the beast with a flaming spin attack, aiming for the monsters knees and underbelly.

But you’re not moving through all of this.

In fact, it looks like you’re not reacting at all.

You’re completely unconscious.

Wind takes a breath and grips the hilt of his sword tighter. He knows that you’re both young- but seeing you held up, bloody and wounded, like a flag over the monster’s weapon- makes him see- if only for a moment- how young you really are.

And he’s pissed.

Wind charges the monster without any second thought and goes for the same tactic that Hyrule had. Getting on his knees, he slides under the beast and cuts the entirety of the underbelly. With the four of them attacking the monster, Wind hopes that they can get you the help that you clearly need.

It still drags on though and Wind is in a bit of a loss at what to do make it end faster.

You’re bleeding.

You’re hurt.

You could be dying.

He couldn’t get to you in time.

He grits his teeth and attacks with more ferocity- as much ferocity that he can muster and tries to go as deep and damaging as he can.

He loses himself in the movements and the battle. He forgets about Wild- about Legend- about Hyrule- and when the monster finally dies- it catches him off guard.

But the universe seems to want to do him a favor.

He’s right under you and you fall on top of him and into his arms. He places you as gently as he can onto the forest floor and slips his blade under the ropes, snapping it upwards to cut them. With the pressure gone, he works on getting you out of there.

Hyrule at some point ends up next to him and takes out your multiple arrow shots, healing you as he goes.

But there’s more damage to undo than Hyrule is capable of healing.

Wind looks over you and tries to look over your person without moving your body wrong and injuring you further. He sees your bag and opens it, reaching his hand inside to pull out the potion you were saving.

He feels like he could cry but he’s not entirely sure what causing it.

Wind uncorks it and begins to administer the potion over your wounds just as Wild unleashes a fairy over you.

Both begin to work their magic and Legend takes it upon himself to pull Hyrule away before he passes out.

“What was that thing?” Wind blurts, watching you intensely for any change in your demeanor.

“A lynel.” Wild replies. “A strong one too. Are you hurt Wind?”

“No. I’m ok.” Wind clenches his hands against his pants.

After a minute of waiting, the fairy leaves, doing all that she can for you and heading the other way.

He can’t see the potion outwardly fix anything else and Hyrule’s magic has been tapped out.

They’ve used all that they can the heal you and yet you’re still not waking up.

Out of the corner of his eye he sees Legend pull Hyrule away from you entirely- trying to keep him from healing you further and risk passing out. It annoys Wind because he wants to see you be better but he takes one breath to calm the pounding in his ears and he can still hear the others fighting.

“Wind.” Wild says. “Stay with them, ok? Be with them when they wake up.”

“Alright.” Wind moves closer to your side and crushes your hair out of your face. “Go help the others. We’ll be here.”

Wild pauses but nods and ushers Legend and Hyrule away- leading them back into the fray to help the others with the last of the monsters.

Your clothes are bloody and caked and beginning to harder because of it.

But you groan.

Wind lets the tears fall from his face and collapses onto your chest. 

“Link?” You ask and raise your hand to drop it onto the head of the person.

“I’m here.” Wind’s voice cracks but he doesn’t pay attention to it.

“Oh Wind...” You pat him. “Good. Good. You’re here. You came.”

Wind thinks to the amount of time he’s wasted just standing by in a panic but doesn’t let you know that.

“I came.”

“Everything hurts Wind.” You whimper. “Did I almost die?”

“Don’t say that.” He snaps. “You’re fine. Ok?”

“Ok.”

“Good.” He looks up at you. “You’re going to be ok. I promise”

“Ok.” You close your eyes and keep your hand on his shoulder. “I trust you.”

He’s gonna leave your side for a while.

Legend

Despite the monsters around them and the arrows that have pierced the group in multiple ways, Legend was sure that this wouldn’t last very long.

But then he hears the unmistakable roar of a lynel.

Which isn’t... ideal but nothing the group (or himself) hasn’t handled before.

It was a bit harder now but again- shouldn’t last long.

“I’m gonna die!”

Legend whips his head in your direction. The words to tell you to stop being dramatic right on the tip on his tongue until he realizes that he doesn’t see you.

Which means that you’re farther away than he thought.

Which means you’re also a lot louder than he thought.

Which means- well- you mean it.

Legend doesn’t think twice.

He kills the monster in front of him with a solid swing and b-lines toward you- fully intent on coming to your rescue.

 “HELP!”

To his left he sees the lynel and stops dead in his tracks. He didn’t realize it was as close as it was, not can he figure out what happening exactly but-

“LINK HELP ME!”

It’s in the same direction the lynel went in.

The lynel is heading in your direction.

And you’re already in trouble.

Legend doesn’t hesitate to activate his peagsus boots and charges after the monster. The moment he catches up, he swings his blade deep into the beast’s side and watches in horror, as it turns to face him and holds your bloodied body up high and laughs.

Or at least the lynel equivalent to a laugh.

Guilt rips through Legend’s system and he’s forced to grit his teeth and bare it. Your hits look bad and he’s at fault for not reaching you sooner.

He trades his sword for his magic rod and fires everything he can at the monster, trying his hardest to both keep his distance and avoid hitting you.

It’s instantly not looking good.

Legend is tiring out quicker than he thought he would and the monster doesn’t look any worse off than when he started this song and dance.

Luckily, or maybe not so luckily, Wild comes charging in with his flame blade and spin attacks against its knees.

The lynel buckles for a moment and Legend takes a risk.

He fires at the monster’s paw where you’re being held and watches as the ropes around you catch the flame. You drop in seconds and Legend dashes to get you out of the way- not seeing or hearing Hyrule run up behind him and take his place in firing against the lynel.

Legend grabs you and drags you across the battle field, trying to shield you with his own body and hide you against the surrounding bushes so that the lynel doesn’t think of going after you again.

He reaches in your pocket where he know you stash your potions and prays that it’s there.

When he finds it, he doesn’t waste any time in getting to work its magic on you. He tries to take stock on your injuries. the arrow in your hand, your back and your leg. The massive hit on your head and the multiple cuts you’ve gained just by existing in this point in time and your previous fights.

Your clothes are a little singed thanks to him but the flame hadn’t actually touched you.

Legend breaths a sigh of relief.

One less thing to worry about.

He... doesn’t have any other potions and he wasn’t the one to carry the fairies this time around. There’s little else he can do on his own now. Hyrule can come can heal you and the idea kicks him into high gear.

He stands. “HYRULE!”

“WHAT?!” The Traveler snaps back.

“Heal them!” He may be begging a little in his voice. “This is bad!”

Hyrule pauses momentarily and jumps out of the way of the lynel’s back swing. “Take over.”

Legend nods and jumps back into the fight. Wild had been holding his own, somehow managing to get on the back of the beast and strike it where he couldn’t fight back. Unfortunately it moves the lynel to buck and kick wildly, not giving Legend any chance to get closer to attack without the risk of injuring himself in the process as well.

But he’s pretty tapped for magic as well... 

Screw it.

It hurt you.

Nearly killed you.

It has to pay.

Legend takes his sword and spins it in his hand. He takes a steadying gulp of air and moves in.

At first it’s a lot of dodging flying limbs and simply nicking it where he can. 

But Legend begins to get impatient and the monster doesn’t go down in the burning heap of flame and destruction Legend wants it to.

So he decides to take a page out of Wild’s book.

With a hard kick to the creature’s belly, Legend grabs a fist full of its mane and hoists himself on the side. Wild has done some damage on the monster’s back but it’s still fighting and doesn’t seem to be going down with that alone. Legend takes his sword on one hand angles it to properly plunge the blade between the lynel’s shoulder and neck.

He puts his whole weight onto it and nearly pushes Wild off of the monster in the process of trying to go as deep and damaging as he can.

He pulls it out and strikes it again in a similar manner.

And again and again.

And again.

And again.

It’s still not enough.

Legend roars himself as his rage and anger fully encompasses him.

He drops his blade off of the side of the beast- not intentionally- and grabs his magic rod once more.

His magic has replenished itself somewhat but it’s not enough- he knows this- he doesn’t care.

With a battle cry harsh enough to scare even the mightiest of warriors, he fires all that he can at the lynel’s head and doesn’t stop.

Soon- perhaps too soon for Legend’s anger to be satiated- the monster finally collapses for good and disappears into the familiar purple smoke.

Both Wild and Legend fall to the ground without the body to hold them any more, Wild with a little more fan fare than Legend.

With reason.

Legend sees you beyond the smoke and he can somewhat register Wild shaking his shoulder to get his attention and his attempts to get him back onto his feet but it’s all in vain.

Legend passes out.

Hyrule

“LINK HELP ME!”

Hyrule’s heart freezes in place and he whips around to where he hears the call.

It’s your voice, he knows it anywhere but it’s never been a source of panic for him. So this is new. You almost never use his name, their name, the name and in any other situation he would think of you trying to get the groups attention but-

He didn’t even think it was possible for you to sound like that. 

So panicked and shrill, borderline a blood curdling scream followed by silence.

His blood goes cold and he thinks you’re calling for him... And he’s not there to help you...

He doesn’t know where you are or where to begin looking for you but he ditches the fight in front of him and sprints to where he can only assume you are. Hyrule tries to be as light on his feet as he can, pushing himself to the fastest he can be without tripping over himself and eating the dirt.

He reaches the clearing once again, where the attack started and gulps down as much air as he can manage.

He doesn’t see you. 

Sheer unadulterated terror grips his whole body and he runs to where he thinks he saw you go.

He calls your name and takes a look around the clearing, trying to see through the trees and the foliage to no avail.

“No...” He whines and gulps again to clear his throat. “Where are you? Don’t do this to me, please.”

Hyrule takes off running again, trying to retrace their steps and get to where he thinks the tracks lead you but he’s not making a lot of progress.

There’s a second roar.

He heard the first one but he wasn’t in a position to do something about it until you called for him. It’s his only hint and he runs toward the sound without thinking ahead if only to help you in your time of need.

Hyrule breaks through the tree line and nearly runs face first into the side of the weirdest colored lynel he’s ever seen. He takes only one second to compose himself before he charges up his magic and unleashes his fire spell, spinning against the beast and cutting into it as much as he can. 

In the time it takes for the spell to die out, Hyrule can here Wild join the fray and see him just beyond his flying hair line, as he jumps on top of the beast and begins hacking away.

“This from your Hyrule?” He yells up at his companion.

“One of the strongest there is!” Wild yells back. He screams your name a second later and pulls at the beasts mane in fury. “It has them! They’re unconscious! Oh my god, that’s a lot of blood...”

Hyrule blinks and runs around the beast, avoiding all the flying hooves as it attempts to buck Wild off of it’s back.

He almost sobs when he sees you.

You look awful.

There’s a unmistakable arrow through your hand, one in your back and one in your leg and your back is covered in blood. By the looks of it your hands are beginning to turn purple and the ropes appear to be strangling every inch against you.

You are also, very much unconscious.

He missed it. He didn’t to you on time.

BUT he can still get you out- he can still heal you- he just needs to get you away.

He takes a few steps backs, doing all that he can to aim this right if the monster would stop moving for just a second.

Out of the corner of his eye, just as he launches the astral sword, he sees it. 

A shadow.

His sword flies through the air and impales the beast in the wrist that holds you captive but it’s not enough to let you go. Granted, Hyrule’s a little glad that it didn’t since he only now realizes that if you were to fall, there’s no one to pull you out of the way and away from the hooves.

But the grip loosens somewhat and you’re beginning to be lowered to the ground without the monsters consent.

It’s a start.

The shadow for its part rushes forward and past him, sinking into the massive shadow of the beast. Nothing appears on it’s back where Wild hold on with wild abandon but it shows on its back on the forest floor.

Hyrule runs toward you, and manages to get a grip on the ropes around you before your ripped away with the monster’s backswing.

The momentum knocks him off of his feet and he watches as Legend comes up next to him at fires his magic rod at the monster’s head.

He sees the shadow get up, as if it was riding the lynel and takes a long and thin line, ramming it into the lynel head’s shadow. The beast howls and yells as if the injury was real and Wild is finally forced to jump off as well unless he was taken down as well. In its agony, the beast lets go of the the ropes holding you and you flop uselessly on the ground where you land.

With his heart in his throat, Hyrule runs toward you, grips your shoulder and tries to pull you away from the beast and the fight.

He can see it, the shadow, fighting where the monster cannot reach.

Legend and Wild are quick to join him, letting the lynel deal with the problem on its own and the three of them take care of your injuries. Wild is quick to deal with the multiple arrows while Legend cuts off the rope restraints around you.

Hyrule doesn’t know where they planned on taking you- but he’s never known monsters outside of his Hyrule to try and take captives.

He can’t fathom why they would want you.

As soon as Legend gets all the ropes cut they scramble to get the pressure off of you and Hyrule doesn’t hesitate to let the flow of magic go through him.

Between his astral sword and his flame attack, he’s beginning to feel a little drained but he can’t afford to let himself slip. He can feel the multiple cracks and dents and damage done to your skull from the hit it had taken and he’s afraid of what it might mean when you wake up... if you wake up... please please please wake up...

Hyrule gets jolted back to reality when he feel Legend’s hand on shoulder, violently shaking him. It was enough that it startled him into stopping the spell and Hyrule’s head clears a little. “Wild has a fairy- slow down.”

“I have to-” He gulps and tries to get the flow of magic going again. “I have to make sure they’re ok. They got hurt so bad Legend- I can’t-”

“But don’t kill yourself trying to fix them! We still need you too!” Legend shakes him again and pulls him away, creating the window Wild needed to take over and uncork the fairy bottle.

Hyrule whines and he barely registers your name leave his leaves.

The sounds of battle continue in the distance and the trio (well, Legend and Wild) are reminded that there still monsters about and friends that could very well also need help.

“Hyrule, get them out of here.” Legend stands and grips his sword in his hand. “And no more magic. Just wait for us to finish and get them to some place safe.”

“Ok.” He gulps and he gently tries to place his hands under your head.

Hyrule moves slowly and unsurely. His head feels light and he knows he may have over did it. He tries not to let Wild or Legend see it but if he’s being honest with himself then he can say that Legend can read him like an open book and he’s a horrible actor.

He tries to stand and misplaces his step but shoves Wild when he goes in to help him. With his other arm, he hooks your knees and picks you up with added help of his power bracelet. 

He’s tired now.

“Got any idea of where I can go?”

Legend and Wild hiss and share a look. Hyrule turns around and sees the shadow hop away from the now dead body of the lynel before merging with his own. Hyrule’s heart stops momentarily before it points to the direction just beyond him. 

He doesn’t saying anything and follows its lead, trying to get from his friends as fast as he can and into the safety that only distance can provide right now.

He’s never seen a shadow quite like this one before but if it’s concerned about your well being then he’ll let it slide for now. Maybe the others will know something about it when he asks them later?

Right now, he needs to not trip and pass out and he needs to take care of you.

He thinks he can manage that.

Sky

Sky didn't know what to think about the forest around him. It seemed to be just as the same as all the others but there was admittedly something in the air here and he didn't know how to make heads or tails of it.

Suddenly it all goes still and he's quick to pull his shield over his head and duck down. He hears some of his comrades cry from the unexpected shots that rain over them but he focuses on you and how you've been hit.

He doesn't have the time to register anything else before his muscle memory throws him into a fight and he's forced to strike any and all lizafos in his path.

He knows the group can hold their own, he knows that you can hold your own- so he's hoping that your hits were only minor.

He fights as he normally would and is pleasantly surprised by the ease of it. If only if it weren't for their sheer numbers that comes against them.

But then he hears the roar.

It takes a second to get past the initial panic of uncertainty- it's not a call from any monster from his Hyrule and there's nothing substantial that he can compare it to.

But he's traveling with this group for a while and he now knows what it is even if it's a little later than his instincts should have figured it out.

A lynel.

He take a large breath to replenish himself and turns around from the newest fallen monster.

Someone is going to have to go deal with it.

He hopes it's not him.

But then he hears you scream.

You're too far away to make out what you're saying but it's frantic and fearful.

Sky wastes no time in running in your direction and trying to make it to your side before anything happens to you.

"Someone help me!" He hears you cry.

He pushes himself faster.

"LINK HELP ME!"

He trips on a root.

Flashbacks take over his mind momentarily before he pushes himself up and begins to feel his heart pounding faster than any fight driven adrenaline could provide. He can't fail to save someone a second time.

His breathing is beginning to feel labored but he can't risk this.

Sky gulps whatever air he can afford to take and begins running.

The lynel from the before roars in victory just as Sky breaks through the tree line.

It's worse than he could have.

Not only did you clearly take multiple shots from the earlier strike but they've somehow captured you with a rope that looks too tight to be without consequence and as you swing from the motion of being picked up, Sky catches a glimpse of the back of your head, where one of the weights rests.

Blood.

Sky feels his hands clench and he raises the Master Sword skyward instinctively, calling upon the holy beam to fire it at the beast.

It does the damage but the beast doesn't go down.

Nor does it let you go.

Enraged and without much forethought, Sky charges and does not hesitate to strike when the beast is still trying to recover from the blow.

Sky strikes against the beast's back to keep on the ground for a moment longer before slicing off the hand that holds you. It falls to the ground with a subtle thump before the monster manages to snap beyond the pain and jump away from him.

The blood falls from the wound like a down pour and lynel roars again in pure anger and hatred, glaring directly at Sky for the audacity to strike against it.

Sky couldn't care less, in fact he welcomes it.

He's quick to jump over your body and place himself between you and monster, rage fueling him beyond every breath he takes.

The lynel jumps and reaches for its own sword now that it's been limited to one armed weapons.

Sky raises his blade skyward for another beam and watches in satisfaction as the beast fails to block it and takes the full damage.

Wild jumps into the fray and fires what he can at the lynel before turning to Sky. He takes a moment and pauses, glancing at the disembodied paw, the blood, the massively harmed lynel and eventually spots you as you lay on the forest floor.

"Get them the help they need." Sky snaps at Wild before he can question anything. "Leave this one to me."

"How did you even manage this?" Wild drops his bow and takes out a knife, cutting away the ropes that bind you.

"Holy blade."

The lynel roars again and stands to face Sky head on once more.

But it's injured before it can even try.

Legend and Hyrule come out of the woodwork and fire at it with all the magic they both can produce in a flurry of blows.

Sky can feel the beginning's of relief seep into his system and it alerts him to how tired and spent he really is- enough so that he knows that if he continues to push it, he might not be able to breath properly for a while.

But he can't bring himself to care, you're still hurt and the monster that caused it is still standing.

He can go on a little longer.

Just a little longer.

He grits his teeth and charges while the lynel is distracted, slicing across it's shoulder blade and using the momentum and purchase he finds when the blade gets caught on the bone to heave himself onto the monster's back.

The lynel can not longer stand and falls to its knees, weakened further more by Legend and Hyrule's efforts.

When Sky feels the lynel shift forward, he thrust the Master Sword in front of him and pierces it through the head, growling animalistically when he sees the blade come out the other side.

The monsters explodes in a familiar purple smoke and he braces himself as his feet hit the ground.

With a gulp, he holds his breath and runs back to you with Hyrule and Legend close by.

It appears that Wild had given you a potion (or three) and was trying to get you to slowly sit up. Arrows gone.

"Ow... My everything hurts." You sob and try to keep from moving.

Sky collapses next to you and lands harshly on his knees. "Oh thank Hylia you're alive."

"Hey Sky." You try and move your arms and eventually settle for entangling your finger into the back of your head. "Oh, ok, ouch, that's worse. What happened? What was that thing?"

"Lynel." Hyrule moves to your other side and lets his magic flow through his fingers. "The big horse like cat thing? We call them lynels. Tough to fight and to beat. They are typically to be avoided."

You sigh in relief from his healing spell and Sky narrowly avoids doing the same thing.

"I hate them." You mutter

Sky coughs up a laugh and tries to hide from the others how much he's actually spent- you need more attention right now. "We all do."

"Is it dead?"

"Sky made sure of it." Legend juts his thumb in his direction and the way you blink and look his way, makes Sky feel more bashful than he should.

"But it was huge!"

"Well Sky was pissed so safe to say it didn't matter."

"Legend." He says in warning.

"You know I'm right." Legend smirks.

"Are there still monsters?" You sit up fully now and shake some of limb free from whatever you must be feeling.

"Technically " Wild hisses. "But you're done. Hyrule, Legend, let's go get the others. Sky, make sure they don't go back in the fight."

The you're no good to fight either does not go unnoticed in Sky's eyes.

"Fine." He spits and sits a little closer to you.

The other three run off back into the forest and away from the two of you.

"I'm sorry." Sky blurts.

"For what?" You tilt your head. "You killed the thing, right?"

"Yeah but-"

"Then there's nothing else to do."

"I didn't- I wasn't fast enough." Sky bite his lip and turns his head to look the trees instead of into your eyes. "This could have been avoided entirely."

"No offence but I doubt that." You roll your eyes and rest your head on his shoulder.

Sky stiffens at the contact and chances a glance in your direction.

"I'm tired."

"Time will kill us if he finds us both asleep." Sky mutters, even if the idea is really tempting right now.

"I think we've earned it." You reply. "Time can bite me. I like... almost died... I think I should nap time compensation."

Sky wraps his arm around you before he can chicken out and tries not to think to much on your second sentence. "You sleep then. I'll keep a look out for more monsters."

"You'll protect me?"

"With my life."

Time

Time was quick to pull out his sword and shield, taking refuge behind it as the arrows rained down upon him and the group.

He saw Wild take a shot in his side and he heard Warrior curse under breath as he drew out his own weapons.

Time took a breath and charge at the first monster who was brave enough to show its face. He trusts the boys to take care of the hoard as they approach and continues to fight. Somehow, the group disperses and they're not back to back anymore.

He's not sure if it's a good or bad thing just yet.

Somewhere in the distance he hears you shout and out of concern, Time buys himself enough to look behind him by kicking the monster in front of him in the chest and sends him flying.

Time doesn't see you.

Time grits his teeth and tries to finish the beast in front of him as fast as he can because that cry... did not sound good.

Time hears a thunderous roar and feel his blood go cold.

It's not native to his time or Hyrule but he's seen one from his time on this journey, he can recognize it now, and he knows this is trouble.

A lynel.

He turns to try and find where it's coming from but there's too many lizalfos and bokoblins for him to deal with before he can go anywhere else.

His blood in pounding in his ears and it's hard for him to hear anything beside it and his own laboring breaths.

He can hear the creature arrive in the middle of battle, sees it in his periphery and he tries his hardest to disengage to go deal with the higher threat.

"HELP!"

It's you.

Time's heart plummets and he runs from his fight into your direction, hoping to get there in time.

But he doesn't know where you are and the monsters are still running rampant.

"LINK HELP ME!"

Ice is dunked over him and there no way to prepare his for the absolute terror that courses through his veins when he hears your voice nearly tear your throat apart. It's enough of a shock that he actually comes to a dead stop not willing to accept the reality of what just happened.

He's never heard you scream like that.

Not to mention that you're calling him and are crying for him to come to your rescue. He can't fail you.

He run, sprints and tackles anything that tries to get in his way. He sees the lynel throw its weapon and turns his head just in time for it make contact with you.

It wraps around you in a practiced and fluid motion and he can see one of the weight hit you in the head.

You fall and lynel runs toward you, picks you up by the rope and holds your now unconscious body up in the air like a trophy before it turns around to run away.

"NO!" Time gives chase and shoots the beast by its knees to get its attention. "GIVE THEM BACK!"

The lynel doesn't seem to be at all effected by the shots but it does turn around to see what the deal is.

Time keeps running toward it. He's not entirely sure how he's going to take this behemoth down but it has you, has hurt you and now it has to pay.

Again, not that he has any idea of how to do that.

Luckily, he's not the only one who heard your call and Wild wastes no time on jumping on top of the monster and begin attacking it from behind. Time's sure that Twilight would have something to say about that later but he'll let the cub have this one if he succeeds.

Hyrule and Legend come out of the woodwork nearly at the same time, each firing their respected types of magic at the beast.

Time's heart plummets again when they come close to hitting you.

"CAREFUL!" He shouts without any restraint in his voice.

Time is terrified for you and admittedly... he's a bit at loss at what to do.

But he refuses to stand by and do nothing.

With Wild and Legend attacking what they can, Time follows Hyrule example by taking out his sword and begins hacking away at the beast.

He trying to avoid anything having to do with your side and even slides under the beast with his blade held high, slicing the entire underside of the creature.

This one is stronger than Time remembers them being and only vaguely recalls when Wild mentioned about their colors having meaning. All he knows is that he needs to get you out of here and fast.

The window of opportunity opens just a sliver and Time forces his hands in to rip it open all the way.

The lynel refuses to let go of you even as it's fighting against the boys and trying to trample Time as he thinks.

In one solid movement he arcs his sword behind you as you swing down and he cuts the lynel's hand up to the wrist. The beast lets you go out of shock and Time dives toward you as you fall.

He catches you and rolls, crying in anguish when he gets a bruising kick to his back.

Even if he's almost certain that his back should have been broken by that kick, he rolls away from the fight even more, fighting the weights off of you to free you from the ropes.

"Are they ok?" Hyrule shouts from the sidelines.

"NO!" He shouts back without much thought, focusing more on how the blood, your blood covers almost the entirety of your back and how your hands have begun to turn a little purple.

"Head injury and circulation has been cut off from multiple limbs! Three separate arrows in their back, leg and hand." Time shouts and tosses his weapon to the side. He takes out his last fairy and uncorks the bottle, letting fly over you and begins to work on taking out the arrow while you're unconscious, only marginally hoping you won't wake in the middle of it if only to avoid the pain.

He's more than upset with himself.

Not only is your life in danger right now and he can't immediately fix the problem, but he didn't even know you got hit in the initial contact. Time begins to blame himself even if he knows it's stupid and tries to project his feels to the real culprits.

You don't appear to be waking up any time soon and Time feels an all encompassing rage descend over him.

He stands and picks up his weapon, turning to the beast as the boys are begin being flung away from it.

He moves his arm in a circle, trying to loosen up his muscles before he attacks.

He takes a breath.

And he charges.

He manages to get in the monsters blind spot and impales his blade deep with its side.

The lynel roars and turns to face him, but Time keeps his grip on his sword and is pulled in the spin instead. As the monster realizes that Time is still where he can't reach keep, it keep turning, jumping and bucking to get Time away from it but he holds on.

As the beast tires itself out, Wild comes back and fires a well aimed arrow in the lynel's eyes and it bursts into a blue cloud and out of existence.

Time growls at the lack of action and instead throws his weapon at the nearest monster that comes through. It bursts into another cloud on impact and Time finds that it still doesn't quell his absolute rage.

"Link..." He hears you groan.

Time turns around and catches you attempting to sit up with Legend's and Hyrule's help. Hyrule has his spell flowing from his fingers over your form and you blink away what confusion you can.

"Where am I? What happened?" You place your hand to the back of your head and gulp. "Is everyone ok?"

Time sighs in relief, his anger almost dissipating on sight.

"Hold on. What's your name?" Legend places a hand on your shoulder.

You answer.

"How many fingers am I holding up?" Hyrule raises up three fingers.

"Se-seven." You frown and squint. "That's not right."

"No. No it's not." Hyrule sighs. "That's it for today then, right? They've got a pretty bad concussion. We need to keep them awake for a while. Arrow wounds seemed to have healed nicely though."

"Anyone have a potion?" Legend yells into the atmosphere.

"Some of us are still fighting!" Four shouts back.

"Help the others." Time says. "I'll get them out of here. I already used my fairy on them so anything else may have to wait."

"You already used a fairy?"

He nods.

"Time..." You look up at him. "Where were you?"

Your words strike him through the heart and he kneels next to you, trying not to look you in the eye and burst into tears.

"Time?"

He picks you up without another word and nods towards Hyrule and Legend.

They take the hint and run back towards whatever fighting is still happening.

"Are you ok?" You place a hand against Time's cheek. "I thought I heard you but you were really far away."

"I'm fine." Time answers, gripping you a little tighter against him.

He's not fine.

But he's gong to make this up to you. He swears it.

Four

Four was stuck in his own head when the attack happened.

He was lucky enough that he only received a quick cut to his cheek before his instincts kicked in and pulled his shield over his head.

He heard multiple people around him grunt but was immediately throw across the field by a lizalfos kick to his chest.

Four pulls his sword from behind him and wasted not time to strike back.

There was no more time or opportunity to even think as he was quickly swarmed by the hoard of monsters. Four has at least four monsters in top of him, trying to knock him down to size and keep him on the ground but Four wasn't going to go down so easily.

Wind comes up from the side and knocks two of them down from behind, giving him a quick wink as he rushes to fight against the bokoblins that have entered the scene.

Delighted by the help, Four does a spin attack to knock the other two down when he hears something that makes his blood go cold.

A roar.

A monstrous being has now entered the battlefield and Four hopes that he can help knock out the lesser monster while the others take on the lynel.

Four makes the executive decision to leave it to the more experienced of the group to take care of it. He can work on lessening the numbers so that they can concentrate on the larger one.

But then he hears something that makes his blood go cold.

"Someone help me!"

It's you.

You're panicking.

You're in trouble.

Four takes a breath and moves his head around his immediate area. He tries to calm his heart before he all but spirals into a panic so that he could properly help you.

Where are you?

"LINK HELP ME!"

What was once ice turns to stone in his veins instead before he dashes in your direction.

Forget the monsters right now.

You need help.

You called for him.

All previous thought of taking this with well calculated decisions vanishes out of the proverbial window.

Any thought of taking calmly has gone out the proverbial window.

It's just the thought of you in danger, waiting on him to rescue you.

His coarse takes him right in the path of the lynel.

He sees you, captured and held high like some victory trophy and absolutely coated in what can only be your own blood.

Four makes the downright stupid decision with all wild abandon to throw his sword as hard as he can at the monsters face.

It makes contact and sinks deep.

But it doesn't kill the creature.

When the creature doesn't let go of you either, Four is nearly shaking with the amount of restrained fury he has yet to release.

While the beast in injured, he sees Wild come up from the tree line and fire multiple shots right where his sword is, making hit after hit and the creature jumps back-

Right into Hyrule and his flaming spin attack.

Four runs toward the lynel, no longer caring for his own safety and ignoring how he doesn't have another weapon out.

The one thing he does have though is his favorite pocket knife- so he decides once again to make a very stupid choice.

Time will have an aneurysm should he ever learn about this.

Four jumps from the creature's knee when it dips down and grips onto the mane to hoist himself up. In one swift movement, even as the creature has gone blind at this point and is constantly taking damage from both other boys, Four pulls his legs up and wraps them around the arm of the beast and climb up to where it's holding you.

He grips the rope with one hand and holds his knife with the other and begin to work his way through the material.

It takes a few panicked seconds but the rope is freed.

With one end still being held by the lynel, it spins you around until you hit the ground with a dull thud. Four drops after you as soon as he sees you're freed and manages to catch you somewhat from hitting the ground at full force- even if his plan was to use his body as a pillow.

His arms wrap around you instantly and together he rolls you away from the fight and away from the lynel's trampling hooves.

He gulps when he lets go of you, taking quick inventory over your injuries.

He's quick to reach into your pocket and pull out the healing potion he knows you have and opens it. Legend runs toward the two of you with a fairy in a bottle and tosses it in Four's direction.

The lynel is still standing to the side and Legend nods to Four before activating his pegasus boots and runs to help slay the monster.

Four takes out your arrows and lets the fairy go to heal your wounds in whatever way she can. He moves over and picks up your head when the fairy moves away, placing it into his lap and opens your mouth with his thumb on your chin.

Slowly, he pours the potion, being as careful as his shaking hands will allow to not choke you with it.

He feels stunned.

You were always on top of everything.

Always coming to their aid instead and always seeming to know what to do next. It's something he's always loved about you.

But the one time you need him them, where were they?

How did he they let you get so hurt?

"Am I dead?" You groan and Four will ever deny crying when you look up at him. "Oh, hi Four... did we die?"

He snorts, it's wet a little unbecoming of him but he doesn't care. "No, but you gave it your best shot."

"Huh..." You shift and are immediately met with all the injuries that haven't been healed yet. "OH! Oh no! Not dead! Defiantly not dead! I'm in too much pain to be dead!"

"I'm sorry." Four says out of habit.

"Not your fault." You groan and roll off of him. "Is the thing dead?"

Four looks up and sees that yes, in the time that he tending to you the trio had managed to kill the lynel.

"Yes."

"Good."

Wild then runs up to you both with a very familiar sword in his hand. "This is yours I believe."

Four stands and takes it before something can happen to the resident Champion. "Thank you."

"You have quite the arm." He comments. "That went deep."

"Four's super strong." You say in your pained delirium. "Like SUPER super strong. I bet he can pick you up."

"Ok, we need to get you out of here." Wild fights the smile that threatens to appear when Four blushes..

"Please." You whimper.

Four takes pity on you and picks you up as gently as he can manage. "The others are still fighting..."

"I'll let them know where you went." Wild winks and dashes off to finish the last of the monsters.

"Four?" You gulps and try to get as comfortable as you can. "Thank you."

"Every time. I promise."

Twilight

Twilight had a suspicion that something was going to happen the minute the forest had stilled of natural sound.

He gripped his sword and held his shield at the ready just in case.

A part of him felt a little silly but he knew better than to ignore the gut feeling. It came with his heightened senses and he wasn't about to toss away hard earned lessons because of falsified paranoia.

The attack came as he knew it would and he was quick to put his shield over his head, pulling Wind under him as well to avoid the barrage of arrows. Some of the others weren’t so lucky, he knew instantly by their calls of distress but was forced to fight the minute the monsters stepped into the light. There was no way for him to check how badly the others would have been hurt except for when he would eventually pass them on the battle field.

He lost himself in the motions- muscle memory doing most of the work in his case as he took down every lizalfos and bokoblin in his path.

Then he hears it.

The mistakable roar of a lynel.

He groans at the very thought of it. With more theatrics than he’s willing to admit, Twilight cuts down the monster in front of him and makes turns around to go fight the beast, leaving the lesser monsters to be dealt with by the group.

“I’m gonna die!” He hears you scream.

His heart stops and what was once a brisk jog turns into a full out sprint in your direction.

“HELP!” Your voice picks up in intensity and Twilight urges himself to go faster, to meet you before the beast can.

Twilight jumps over a line of bushes just in time to see you run down the trail- blood already trailing down your back and dripping off of your hand.

He sees the lynel stop for a moment before releasing its weapon.

“LINK HELP ME!” 

It makes contact and it stops you in your tracks, capturing your limbs together and causing you to fall. He runs over to in tandem with the monster but he’s not fast enough to catch the lynel while in full gallop.

While a scream tears through his throat, Twilight wishes momentarily that you were sticking near Epona at the start of all this (and therefore him) instead but he gives chase without much thought in any sort of plan to save you.

With a quick whistle he calls for his horse and she comes running without any hesitation. Twilight sets himself up during the run and jumps on Epona’s back. He’s quick to move and direct her after the monster and pull out his bow in favor of his sword.

His shots cause the monster to roar once more in fury and it stops to face the upcoming opponent.

Twilight growls with just as much intensity and keep firing, urging Epona to run around the beast, in a circle to avoid any full on hits. 

The lynel takes the blows with little thought and steps back, dropping you the process and charges at Twilight.

He’s not quick enough to get out of the way and is forced to jump off of Epona less she fall on top of him and crush him.

Epona does take the brunt hit of it and does in fact fall over. Twilight gets to his feet as fast as he can and takes his sword out again. While it takes a moment to breath from colliding into another creature, Twilight asses the damage.

Epona for her part gets up and dashes quickly off to the side and away from the monster. He knows that she’s hurt but with the lynel turning around to face him, and Twilight does not miss the way the lynel glances at you in the process, he doesn’t have time to go and check on her.

Instead he jumps in front of you and swings his blade with all his might at the offending creature as it makes it way over to you.

It howls in angers and does so once more when Legend comes flying in through the foliage and blasts the beast directly in its face with his magic rod.

It gives Twilight a window of opportunity and a bit of breathing room now that the lynel has changed targets... for now.

He spins on his heel and kneels by your side, cutting into the ropes that surround you and tear them away from your body. He gulps a bit at the multitude of arrows that protrude from your flesh and he idly wonders if it was from the first attack or from the battle field.

The lynel throws Legend off  of it and Twilight turns around once more to charge at the monster, using his own momentum against it to jump on its back as he stabs as his blade as deep as he can manage into the beast. The monster roars once more and begins to buck with Twilight holding on by the hilt of his blade and the mane of its fur. 

This is a familiar sensation to Twilight and he moves his body to compensate for the added motion to stay on.

From on top of the beast, he sees Hyrule and Wild join the fray and grins as feral as he’s willing to show as back arrives.

Wild is quick to follow his lead and jumps next to him as the monster bucks and also begins to whack the beast. Twilight manages to pull his blade out and repeats his earlier motion, urging his sword with all of his strength to go deeper and do more damage.

Luckily, Hyrule has spotted you and has rushed to your aid with Legend on his heels while the lynel is being handled.

Wild chitters angrily at the fact that lynel still stands and he hops off to begin firing as many explosive arrows as he can at the beast.

Never mind that Twilight is still there.

But he’s a good shot and Twilight focuses on staying on top and keeping his blade within the monster as it jumps back and back and it eventually cornered by a small cliff side.

For one moment everything stills, from either the creature tiring itself out or from Wild running out of bomb arrows but Twilight takes the moment for what it is and once again pulls his blade out.

With one final push, he plunges it back into the monster at a higher spot and feels only marginally satiated when he see the tip peak out on the other side of the lynel’s face.

It disappears into the typical purple cloud and Twilight narrowly misses a sharp rock on the way down. Wild runs to him and gives him a hand.

“Were you trying to blow me off?” He raises an eyebrow at the younger hero as he catches his breath.

“You stayed on didn’t you?” Wild pats him on the shoulder and gives him a once over. “You’re fine.”

“They’re not.” Twilight looks in your direction and runs over.

Luckily, Epona stands over you as well, relatively unharmed except for the few scratches on her side. Twilight sighs in relief at the sight of his horse still standing tall. He’ll have to go easy on her for a few days, maybe a few weeks but she’ll just fine after some tender loving care.

You on the other hand...

You groan and finally open your eyes by the time he reaches you. “I did not do so great that time.”

“Well at least you’re not dead.” Legend rolls his eyes and helps you sit up properly.

“What happened to...” You pause and look up at Twilight, concern and horror filtering over your face. “What one earth happened to you?”

He blinks and furrows his eyebrows. 

Then he looks down.

His pants are coated in the monster’s blood and it’s traveled all the way up to his naval- but that’s not what it looks like.

“Rancher, were you pissing blood or something?” Legend stares at him in the same amount- if not than a little more- horror as you were.

“Twilight...” You start and frown, only now looking between them all with a little more clarity in your eyes. “Did that thing cut off your-”

“It’s not my blood!” He’s quick to reassure you. “Not my blood.”

“Twilight took a lot of stabs to the creatures back.” Wild answers for him. “Since he was riding it then it drips onto the pants.”

“It does look like he needs to be checked though.” Hyrule bit his lip. “Are you alright?”

“A bit winded but more or less unharmed. You?” He wipes the sweat from his brow and tries to ignore the way his pants are beginning to dry.

“More or less the same.”

“Everything hurts.” You groan and flop back onto the earth. 

Twilight smiles slightly at the sight and takes a large calming breath. You’re going to be ok.

Warrior

“LINK HELP ME!”

Warrior’s blood goes cold.

Multiple instances of fallen soldiers and allies alike flash over him a cold panic and his feet move before he even has the chance to register what he’s trying to do or where he’s even going. 

There’s a recurring mantra in his head that circles around like sirens in the dead of night. 

He can’t be late. He can’t fail. It all falls on him. He has to win. He has to save them. He can’t lose.

He’s forced to duck down in a flurry of rushing limbs and flying fabric when he nearly crashes into the monster head on.

Warrior doesn’t hesitate to raise his sword and slash the underbelly of the beast, still lost in the programming of muscle memory. He only comes back into hiself and the present when- after a few minutes of fighting this things without much damage being done to it- Wild comes from behind and fires as many arrows as he can in quick succession.

The surroundings clear up a little more and Warrior rolls out of the way to not be stomped on.

He looks up with wide eyes and forces to get back onto his feet.

He’s not back in the war. There’s no army or fallen soldiers that are gasping out their final breaths.

Until he looks up.

Warrior sucks in a breath when he finally registers your hanging form. You’re soaked in your own blood and there’s arrows sticking out of you that clearly couldn’t be dealt with at the time. Not to mention the ropes around you have been turning your hands and fingers purple.

Legend joins in the time he’s been stuck staring at you and has begun to fire as much magic as he can at the beast. “WAKE UP PRETTY BOY! WE’RE NOT DONE HERE!”

Warrior snaps back into action- the anger that dripping into his system slowly gets him worked up into a frenzy. At first he merely attacks like he would any other monster because he doesn’t want to believe that you’ve been bested by this creature. Nor the possibility that you’re injured beyond repair. But the more he attacks and the more he’s focused on trying not to injure you further- he’s hitting harder, slashing deeper and aiming for any all vitals that he can reach.

Somehow, in his rage, he’s managed to get him under the lynel and spins his blade to slice the legs as many times as he can before the beast is forced to fall from the damage.

Warrior is so lost in himself that he never noticed Hyrule arrive and successfully get you away from the lynel.

Legend breaks away to help Hyrule with getting the rope and arrows away from your body- leaving the stronger lynel with Wild and Warrior. 

While the two of them get to work their magic on healing you, Warrior notices belatedly that there’s more free space to work with when fighting so he takes advantage of that.

But he miscalculates.

In one false move that Warrior tries to duck away from, a rogue hoof comes up when the creature tries to stand again and it nicks Warrior right above his eye, sending him flying away form the beast.

Warrior ignores the blood that’s pouring into his eye and gets up nearly as quickly as he went down.

Wild for his part has noticed the change in energy and has jumped away from the lynel to settle for more ranged attacks... And to get away from Warrior...

Warrior rams his blade into the monster, tilting it upward to slice as high as he can reach into its massive neck.

The lynel has weakened to the point where lifting its limbs has become a tedious and strenuous task. 

Warrior takes advantage of this.

He does not notice Wild leave him either until the lynel disappears in a violent explosion of purple smoke.

He stands there, chest heaving and arms trembling- the weight of his rage and adrenaline leaving him stunned when the object of his aggressions is gone. He snaps his head up in a violent fashion to see Wild, Legend and Hyrule stand over you, magic pouring over them in waves.

He runs to you and has to be restrained by Wild when he nearly runs all of you over. “How are they? How bad was it?”

“Are you ok?” Hyrule asks instead, just turning in time to see Warrior coated in not only the creature blood- but having his eyebrow swollen and red- his own blood weeping down the side of his face and into his tunic and scarf.

It’s uglier than he’s ever going suspect without a mirror. 

“Are they dead?” Warrior asks again.

Hyrule turns his magic to Warrior standing up and making room for the soldier to take his place on the ground. “No, but they’re not waking up after a potion, a fairy and my magic.”

Warrior doesn’t think twice about kneeling on the dirt and takes your hand reflexively. “Do we have anything else?”

“They took a bad hit to the head, it’s all on them now.” Legend places a hand on Warrior’s shoulder and sighs.

There’s a moment of silence amongst the group, the sounds of the others fighting still nearby. “They’re going to need help. We’re not done here.”

Whatever relief Warrior might have felt at the new of your being stable is quickly dashed and once replaced by the need to rain absolute hell fire on the enemy.

“Someone needs to stay with them.” He finds himself saying.

“I will.” Hyrule gulps, letting the spell drop at last. “I think I’m tapped out my magic for a while anyway.”

“Then rest and don’t push yourself either friend.” Wild nods and runs off. “Take care.”

“Watch over them Traveler.” Warrior doesn’t look his way and grip his sword as tightly as his fists can manage. “We won’t be long.”

Legend and Hyrule share a look as Warrior runs after Wild searching the nearest monster to fall victim to his anger.

He can’t be late. He can’t fail. It all falls on him. He has to win. He has to save them. He can’t lose.

Wild

Wild growled, pushing himself up from the ground and ripping the arrow that had lodged itself into him out of his side.

He couldn’t feel it anyway- it was his scarred side.

With practiced ease, he takes out his bow and fires it at the first monster he sees. He knows that the others scatter as quickly as the monsters break through the tree line to take them down.

He searches for more numbers that aren’t being dealt with immediately. 

Not seeing any, he runs for higher ground and jumps into the biggest tree in the area, striking at the bokoblins more so than the lizalfos.

Bokoblins are the easier enemy to deal with- he tells himself. Lizalfos have obnoxious armor that can be difficult to get around- not to mention they’re smarter and faster. So the group will need to spend more of their attention on the lizards from hell than the easier enemy.

They’re annoying but Wild makes do.

But as he gets lost in the moment and the mission- he hears it.

A lynel has appeared on the battle field.

Being in the group long enough has allowed to learn that he’s only one of few that know what it is and how to deal with it.

He steels himself and jumps down from the tree- eager to get rid of the threat and help his friend through the thick of it.

“I need help! I’m gonna die!” Wild’s head snaps to the left, just barely seeing the lynel run in the same direction of your voice.

Wild’s voice gets caught in his throat and he sprints as quickly as he can after it.

It can’t get to you. There’s no way the universe would allow this to happen. He can’t let that happen.

“HELP!” He hears you cry again.

It’s once again to his left and runs toward you instead of the lynel, not even bothering to try and hide the absolute panic on his face.

“Someone help!” You yell and he’s too focused on honing in on where you are exactly to even worry about where the lynel is in comparison.

He ends up somewhere in the middle, you to his left and the lynel to his right.

He see the whole thing happen- not even registering the power level of this particular monster when he sees it.

The lynel stops and lines up its shot 

“LINK HELP ME!”

It lets go and you collapse onto the forest floor, blood slowly beginning to pool by the back of your head. He didn’t even get the chance to answer you- you’re out before you can even see him there.

But the lynel still charges forward and Wild knows he can’t let it get to you regardless.

He runs toward you- not where near as quickly as the lynel but he shoots his trusty bomb arrow at its feet before it can get to you- watching in twisted satisfaction when the monster is instead flipped over you and lands directly on its back on the other side of the clearing.

He runs to you, looking over his shoulder to see the lynel jump to its feet again, now raging at a different level than before. He takes a short sword out of the shiekah slate and cuts the ropes around you, using the bomb rune to blast the creature again when it tries to run back over to you.

The blast doesn’t send the monster very far like the first one but it still buys Wild enough time to get the last of the ropes off of you and pick you up.

Legend comes in from he side lines and fires at the beast like there’s no tomorrow. Wild’s psyche breaths a quick sigh of relief at the appearance of back up and he tries to find a decent place to put you as he goes to deal with the monster.

It’s only when he’s putting you down- hidden behind some bushes and branches, does he see your other wounds- the arrows and he almost sobs at the sight. He thought it was just the hit from the lynel but you’re losing more blood than he thinks he can keep up with. Wild takes out the fairy and unleashes her, whispering to her to check your head first while he deal with the the arrows.

He doesn’t know if she can understand him as much as the koroks do (it wasn’t a fairy from his Hyrule) but he sees that she somewhat understands. He takes care of the one through your hand first and worries about splinters for a moment before someone smacks his hand away.

“How about you go help Legend?” Hyrule doesn’t  snap but it’s not necessarily a friendly tone at the moment. “I’ll take care of them but Legend can’t fight that thing on his own.”

Wild looks up and belatedly sees Legend try to dodge the strikes of the high level lynel instead of actually hitting the monster.

Wild takes one more look at you and your blood on his hands and nods to Hyrule. He doesn’t hesitate to run toward the monster and jumps on its back as its distracted.

He holds on by its mane and takes out his frost blade freezing it in place before unleashing as many blows as he can get with his knights claymore.

Legend however, somehow misses the memo and fires his fire rod at the lynel- getting rid of the effect of his own blade.

Wild doesn’t pay too much attention to it.

He switches to his thunder blade and strikes the beast right behind its head.

The shock knocks him off of its back and he lands harshly on his own back before shooting multiple bomb arrows at the monster. Legend goes for more ranged attacks when he sees the kind of artillery that Wild is unleashing on the monster and wants no part of it.

Wild gets his shots to strike the lynel in the face, going for more blood than he thinks the lynel even has- but all he knows is that the beast has to pay.

He stays close to the lynel, using as many flurry blows as he can get it, switching between the frost blade and his thunder blade as they both charge up and as many bombs as he can get going at once for the beast to fall.

He falls into a pattern and knows the monster very well after just two minutes of this. It’s from his Hyrule and Wild feels a small part of him shrivel in guilt at something from his world coming after you.

But that just means he’ll have the honors of getting rid of it.

Despite Wild’s obvious pattern of weapon switching and bomb usage, the lynel isn’t any wiser to his moves and continuously takes the damage that Wild is giving out- not even having the chance to strike the young hero. 

Legend at some point in all of this has moved away from the battle entirely and has joined Hyrule in healing you, even if it’s only to shove a potion down your throat.

Wild gets lost in the motions, enough so that he even trips over himself and falls face first in the monster’s loot.

He grabs it out of habit before sprinting over to where he knows he hid you.

You’re just beginning to wake up.

“Link...” You call out. “Where did you go?”

Wild bite his lip and drops to his knees next to you, gripping your hand with shaking hands. He looks to Hyrule with a silent question.

“They’ll be ok.” He says in a quiet voice. “Took a bad hit to the head and the arrows could have been better but nothing vital was damaged and they should be ok with some rest and time.”

Wild nods and sighs with relief.

“Link...” You blink your eyes open and look around you. “Oh hey... Everything hurts.”

Legend snorts and crosses his arms. “It took a lot of magic to get you to this point again.”

“I’m not dead?”

“You gave it your best shot.” Hyrule shrugs with an awkward smile on his face. “But we love you too much to let you go like that.”

Wild chuckles quietly and feels the shakes travel from his hands to the rest of his body until he’s sure it looks like he’s vibrating instead. His whole nervous system is fried but you’re ok- you’re alive. Wild thinks he can cry.

“Cool. Cool. Thanks.” You sigh and rest your head against the forest floor again. “Glad I’m not dead.”

“We are too.” Wild laughs a bit louder and it’s wet and quiet but you hear it.

You smile in response.

“Wild here is especially happy about it. He pretty much took on the lynel all by himself.” Legend lets out a breath. “It was a tough one. What was wrong with t? Was it infected like the others?”

“No. Just strong.” Wild shakes his head and lets go of your hand to brush your hair gently away from your face. “It was my Hyrule- I’ve fought a few like those before.”

“Dang...”

“Lynel...” You try the word on your tongue like slow molasses flowing through a jar. “I hate them.”

“Yeah...” Wild laughs a little louder again, a little more genuine- adrenaline leaving his system and leaving him tired and drained. “We all do.”

You’re ok.

He’s ok.