#t3

the drive to back is quiet in a way that feels heavy yet peaceful, the soft hum of his radio’s blending with the rhythmic sounds of the road beneath you. every now and then, he glances at you, his free hand drumming absentmindedly against the steering wheel, but he doesn't say much.

when he pulls up in front of your apartment, he checks the time, its already 6:15 p.m.

His jaw tenses for a second before he brushes it off, locking his phone. Just as he does, another notification pops up, his manager, letting him know that his uniform has been dropped off at his place.

"hm." he reads it again before turning to you. "i think, my uniform's here."

ur face lights up. "im excited to see it."

Jungkook frowns, clearly confused. "You're excited?"

you unbuckle your seatbelt with a shrug. "Yeah. I've never seen you in a uniform before. Is that weird?"

Jungkook lets out a short laugh. "A little."

By the time you're walking up to your apartment, he's still laughing under his breath, watching you out of the corner of his eye. Then, suddenly, "You're excited to see me leave?" he teases, grinning as he bumps his shoulder into yours.

You gasp dramatically. "Yes. God, I can't wait."

He bursts into giggles, loud and unfiltered, his head tilting back slightly. The sound lingers even as you step into your apartment.

he toes off his shoes lazily at the door while you head straight for the couch, plopping down with a sigh. But he doesn't join you. Instead, he crouches by your plant corner, fingers brushing over the stems of the daisies sitting in one of your vases.

He tilts his head slightly. "They're growing well."

You hum, watching as he carefully fixes them, adjusting the angle of one that had drooped slightly.

"Do you remember when I got you these?" he asks, eyes still focused on the flowers.

You sit up, glancing over. "Of course, I do."

Your voice is softer now, and Jungkook finally looks at you.

You motion toward the small, single flower sitting on your TV stand. "This was the very first one. The one you gave me at the diner."

Jungkook's gaze softens.

"And then this one," you continue, nodding toward the next vase, where a bouquet sits. "That was after."

"When I picked you up from work," he murmurs.

You hum in agreement, pointing to another bouquet, the one he got you after taking you to the beach. Then, finally, the massive arrangement he gave you this morning.

Jungkook stares at it for a moment before shifting his attention to your wall, the place where he already knows you've been carefully pressing and taping up each one. His throat bobs slightly.

"I like that you keep them," he says after a beat.

You smile. "I like that you keep giving them to me."

He huffs out a quiet laugh, glancing at you with something so full, so warm in his eyes, you feel it in your chest.

And then, he just listens. taking in your words, the flowers, the way this place has slowly become filled with pieces of him.

and hes is still crouched by your plants when you stand up, stretching your arms above your head with a small yawn.

"I should start getting ready," you say, already heading toward your room.

Jungkook follows without a word, but when you glance over your shoulder, he's undoing the top button of his shirt, tugging it off effortlessly as he makes his way toward his bag.

"Make yourself comfortable, I guess," you tease, laughing when he just flashes you a grin.

By the time you start doing your makeup, Jungkook has already stripped out of his casual clothes and is pulling on his slacks, still careful to keep his new hair hidden beneath a cap. You sit in front of your mirror, your makeup bag spread out in front of you, while Jungkook takes a seat on the edge of your bed, tying his shoelaces.

"You really won't show me your hair?" you ask, catching his gaze in the mirror as you swipe concealer under your eyes.

Jungkook smirks. "Later. I promise."

You narrow your eyes at him, but before you can press further, he leans forward slightly, tilting his head.

"What's that?" He nods toward the product in your hand.

You blink. "Concealer."

He hums, watching as you blend it out. "That's the one that brightens, right?"

You pause. "Yeah... you know about concealer?"

Jungkook snorts. "I get my makeup done all the time."

"True." You nod, reaching for the next step. "This is powder."

"Sets everything in place?"

You flash him a grin. "Exactly."

and just like that, the two of you fall into an easy conversation as you talk him through each product, him occasionally throwing in little comments or ovservations that make it clear he actually knows what he's talking about. He watches you the entire time, arms crossed as he leans back on his hands, eyes warm with amusement and something softer that he doesn't bother hiding.

When you finish, you tilt your head at him through the mirror. "So? Thoughts?"

Jungkook grins. "Beautiful, as expected."

You roll your eyes but laugh anyway, turning around in your seat. "Okay, time for me to pick out an outfit. What do I wear?"

Jungkook doesn't hesitate. "Something fancy."

You nod. "Alright. Get out."

His brows shoot up. "Oh?"

"It's a surprise—!" you say, waving him toward the door.

Jungkook laughs but stands up, holding his hands up in surrender as he heads for the hallway. "Alright, alright. I'll be waiting."

And with that, he disappears, leaving you grinning to yourself as you turn back to your closet.

——

You run your fingers through your hair one last time, smoothing it down before stepping back to take in your reflection.

its a silk slip dress, it drapes over your figure perfectly, the soft yellow catching the light in a way that makes it look almost golden. It's long, elegant yet simple. exactly how you'd want Jungkook to remember this night.

to remember you.

Grabbing your phone, you snap a quick mirror selfie and send it to Nari.

You: Approve?

her response is literally— immediate.

Nari: BITCHHHHHHHHHH OMG WTF YOU LOOK SO FUCKING HOT HELLO??????

Nari: OH MY GODDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD

Nari: IM BARKING. IM SCREAMING. IM THROWING UP.

Nari: JUNGKOOK IS GOING TO LITERALLY DIE. YOU'RE GOING TO KILL HIM.

you giggle, slipping on your white heels and grabbing a little bag before heading out to the living room where hes is waiting. He's leaned against the counter, scrolling through his phone, his brows slightly furrowed in focus.

And then he looks up. His eyes widen instantly.

Jungkook stiffens, his phone lowering slightly in his hands as he just... stares. His lips part, his jaw tensing like he wants to say something, but nothing comes out. His gaze sweeps over you, taking in every detail, the silk, the way it clings to your frame, the delicate yellow against your skin, the way you stand there watching him, just waiting.

His throat bobs as he swallows.

"..whoa."

Jungkook pushes off the counter, walking toward you with that same intense stare, so unwavering that you have to glance away. Your fingers tighten around your bag, your heart hammering as he stops right in front of you.

"Is this... good?" you ask shyly, voice quieter than you intended.

His hands find your waist, warm and firm, grounding you in the moment. "It's perfect." His voice is low, almost reverent.

Your cheeks burn instantly. pushing lightly at his chest.

But that only makes him grin, and it gives you an excuse to take in his outfit, dressy pants, a sleek black silk button-up that fits him unfairly well, sleeves slightly rolled to show off his tattooed forearm. Your fingers smooth over the expensive fabric of his shirt, admiring the way it drapes over his frame.

"We look hot," you smirk.

Jungkook chuckles, his hands still resting against your waist. "Totally," he agrees. Then, he snorts. "But the beanie kinda ruins it."

You laugh, reaching up to tug at the edge of it. "No, it's nice."

"Yeah?" he murmurs, tilting his head.

And then, he hesitates for just a moment.

Because he wasn't supposed to give this to you yet, not until the very end of the night, right before he leaves. But looking at you now, glowing in soft yellow, looking at him with that teasing grin, he just... can't help himself.

Jungkook reaches into his pocket, fingers brushing over the small box before he pulls it out and holds it toward you.

You blink, confused. "What's this?"

And then you open it.

A delicate gold chain, thin and dainty, catches the light. Hanging from it is a tiny handcrafted daisy charm, its petals wired with soft yellow crystals. It's breathtaking.

Your breath catches in your throat. "Jungkook..." Your fingers tremble slightly as you lift it from the box, your voice unsteady. "Is this what you were doing earlier?"

He nods, watching your reaction carefully. "Yeah." A pause. "Do you like it?"

You swallow hard, staring down at the necklace, overwhelmed. "Jungkook, I love it." Then, before you can stop yourself, the words slip out, quiet but certain.

"I love you."

Your fingers tighten around the delicate chain as you look up at him, eyes still wide with awe. "Help me put it on?" you ask softly, already turning around.

Jungkook swallows, his throat bobbing. "Yeah," he murmurs, almost to himself.

You lift your hair out of the way, exposing the curve of your neck. There's a beat of silence, and then you feel his fingers, warm, gentle, brushing over your skin as he gathers your hair to one side. His touch is featherlight, but it sends a shiver down your spine.

Then, he leans in.

His lips press to your shoulder, soft and lingering. The kiss is barely there, but it sears into your skin like a quiet confession.

Your breath stutters.

Behind you, Jungkook exhales slowly, steadying himself before he focuses on the necklace. His large hands fumble slightly with the tiny clasp, careful not to tug too hard. The contrast between his broad fingers and the delicate gold makes your heart clench painfull, because it's so intimate, so deliberate, like he's putting a piece of himself on you.

finaly, he hooks it in place, his fingertips grazing the nape of your neck as he lets the chain settle against your collarbones.

"There," he murmurs, voice low and affectionate. "Perfect."

You turn back around, looking up at him, but Jungkook is already gazing at you like you hung the stars.

Jungkook shifts on his feet, like he's debating something, and then,like he just can't help himself anymore, he reaches into his pocket again.

"I, uh—" He pulls out a small, crocheted plushie, a tiny yellow blob with stubby little arms and the cutest embroidered face. "Here."

Your eyes widen instantly. "Oh my god. You got it?!"

Jungkook smirks, arms crossing over his chest, clearly pleased with himself. "Don't think I didn't see you eyeing it down earlier."

You take it from him, cradling it in your palms like it's the most precious thing in the world. It's soft, hand-stitched, and so ridiculously adorable. "Jungkook," you whisper, looking up at him, "this is the cutest thing ever."

He shrugs, feigning nonchalance, but the tips of his ears are pink. "Yeah, well," he mutters, rubbing the back of his neck. "Figured you'd like it."

You do.

Without thinking, you hug it to your chest and then,because it's not enough,you step closer and wrap your arms around him too. His body tenses for just a second before he melts, instantly pulling you in, arms locking around your waist.

And standing there, pressed against him, with the tiny plush squished between you. Jungkook holds you tighter.

Jungkook takes your hand, lacing his fingers through yours as he tugs you toward the door. "Let's go."

You plop the plushie down on the counter, giving it one last squeeze before slipping on your bag. Meanwhile, Jungkook grabs his shoes, sliding them on with ease before reaching for your hand again, leading you outside.

The moment the cold air hits you, regret slams into your chest. The dress? Immediate mistake.

A gust of wind rushes past, sending chills up your spine and whipping your hair into your face. The silky fabric of your dress is absolutely no help, fluttering wildly around your legs.

Jungkook bursts out laughing.

You, on the other hand, are struggling—heels wobbling, arms instinctively crossing over yourself for warmth. "Stop laughing!" you whine, shivering as you try to keep your dress from flying up.

"C'mon, let's warm up," he grins, tugging you forward.

And then, without warning, he takes off running toward the car, still holding your hand.

"Jungkook, I'm in heels!" you shout, struggling to keep up, but he just laughs, pulling you along anyway.

You're both half-running, half-stumbling through the cold, giggling like kids as you finally make it to the car. When you reach the door, Jungkook quickly unlocks it, ushering you inside first before sliding in after you.

The second the doors shut, you both exhale, breathless and laughing, cheeks pink from the cold.

Jungkook shakes his head, grinning at you. "That was cute."

You roll your eyes, still shivering. "You're ridiculous."

"Maybe." He turns on the heater, rubbing his hands together for warmth before reaching over and grabbing your hands, bringing them to his lips to blow warm air over your fingers.

"What is your thing with getting me to do these strenuous ass activities? You're the one enlisting, not me."

Jungkook just grins, turning in his seat to face you fully. "Maybe you just have shit stamina."

Your breath catches.

The double meaning is immediate, and your entire face heats up before you can stop it. "Oh my god," you mutter, looking away, but it's already too late.

Jungkook notices instantly. His eyes widen, and then his grin turns downright mischievous. "Wait—" He leans in slightly, inspecting your reaction. "I didn't mean it like— wait, ARE YOU BLUSHING?"

His giggle bursts out, full and bright, and he nudges you playfully while you groan, covering your face with your hands.

"Stop laughing," you whine, mortified.

"I can't," he wheezes, barely containing himself. "That was so unintentional, but now I can't unsee it."

"Jungkook," you glare at him through your fingers, "Youre annoying."

"No, you are," he teases, still giggling, eyes sparkling with pure amusement. "And apparently, you love when I talk about your stamina too."

You shove his shoulder. "Oh my god—drive."

But he just laughs again, shaking his head as he finally puts the car into gear, looking way too pleased with himself.

The car hums softly as Jungkook drives, the city lights stretching into golden blurs against the window. Your legs are crossed, hands tucked under your thighs for warmth, when he suddenly picks up his phone at a red light and scrolls through something. A second later, a melody plays through the car speakers—soft, raw, and hauntingly stunning

It's his voice.

Your brows knit together as you listen, the delicate notes filling the space between you. "Is this yours?" you ask quietly, turning to him.

Jungkook swallows, his fingers tightening around the wheel. "Yeah," he murmurs, glancing at you quickly before looking back at the road. "It's called Decalcomania."

Your lips part slightly as he hums along with the intro, his voice lower than usual, almost nervous. And then the first line comes.

"When I see you smile in the screen

You're good at everything

You're just perfect

Feels like I've never been you."

Something shifts inside your chest.

You blink, watching him carefully now. His knuckles are tense around the wheel, jaw clenched ever so slightly, but he's not saying anything—just waiting.

"Do you even see me?

Do you know who I am?

Or how do I look now?

You don't like me like that."

A lump forms in your throat.

Your mind flashes through the past few months, all the moments you had with him—the teasing, the tension, the way his eyes always softened when he looked at you. But this—this—is different.

"Come and tell me so much, you beautiful heart

Oh, I'm gonna listen to you

Please."

his voice in the song is desperate, aching, yearning.

Your breath stutters.

All the numbers too big

Can't get out of your game

Oh I want to paint it like you

Please

And when he finally risks a glance at you, his eyes filled with a quiet, vulnerable kind of intensity, you know.

It's about you.

He wrote this about you.

I want to be your decalcomania

I want you

I want to be your decalcomania

I want...

I want you

A tear slips down your cheek before you can stop it. Then another.

Jungkook notices immediately. "Baby—"

You sniffle, covering your mouth with your hand. "Oh my god, Jungkook."

His foot eases off the gas a little as he reaches over, thumb swiping under your eye, catching the tear before it falls further. "Why are you crying?" he whispers, his own voice thick with emotion.

"You wrote this thinking about me?" Your voice wobbles.

He nods, throat bobbing. "Of course I did."

Your eyes squeeze shut as another tear spills over. "I love you," you whisper, voice cracking under the weight of it all.

Jungkook exhales shakily, like he's been holding his breath this entire time. "I love you," he echoes, his fingers squeezing yours over the center console.

You've seriously never been more in love in your entire life.

The drive is quiet after that. soft and, lingering. You don't say much, but you don't need to. Jungkook's hand stays on your thigh, warm and grounding, his thumb tracing slow circles into your skin.

The city lights blur past the window as he takes the highway, then the roads start getting quieter, more secluded. You glance at the clock once, but then decide against it, time doesn't really matter right now.

Eventually, Jungkook pulls into a private driveway, the car gliding smoothly to a stop. Your eyes widen as you take in the restaurant in front of you. It's not just fancy—it's insanely private, the kind of place where the exterior alone looks like a piece of art. There are only a handful of tables inside, and from what you can tell, not a single other soul is here.

"Jungkook," you say slowly, "where is this?"

He turns off the engine, looking at you with that same soft intensity that's been there all night. "A date," he answers simply, lips quirking.

You blink. "But there's literally no one else here."

Jungkook unbuckles his seatbelt and shrugs, like it's the easiest thing in the world. "Yeah. I booked it out for us."

Your jaw drops. "You didn't."

He grins, reaching over to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "I did. Just us."

Your heart clenches so tight it hurts. "Oh my god, stop. This is so beautiful," you whisper, voice barely above a breath.

Jungkook just smiles, squeezing your hand before stepping out of the car. You follow, the cold air biting at your skin again, but you barely register it now. Because as you step inside, the warmth of the restaurant surrounds you, and it's stunning.

It's fancy, but not overly modern. The lighting is soft and golden, flickering from the candles that sit on each polished table. The decor is elegant. earthy, intimate, and with hints of wood and deep, rich tones. It's the kind of place that feels timeless.

"You like it?" Jungkook asks, watching your reaction closely.

You turn to him, eyes shining. "I love it."

And the way he smiles at you then, like you're the only thing in the world that matters, makes you feel like you could cry all over again.

The moment you step inside, a well-dressed waiter greets you with a polite smile. He's young, probably around your age, and smooth with his words, his eyes lingering on you just a second longer than necessary.

Jungkook clocks it immediately.

"Right this way," the waiter says, leading you toward your table. You follow easily, completely oblivious to the way Jungkook's entire posture shifts. His jaw tightens, eyes narrowing slightly, and before you can take another step, his hand finds your waist.

Notjust resting there—gripping.

You barely notice, too focused on admiring the restaurant, but Jungkook does it with purpose. His fingers press firmly against the silk of your dress, thumb brushing against your side, holding you close as if to remind both you and the waiter exactly who you're here with.

When you reach the table, the waiter pulls out a chair for you, flashing another easygoing smile. "Can I get you anything to drink?" he asks, and again, his eyes flicker over you, lingering.

You don't think much of it, you're used to people being friendly, especially after working at the diner for so long. You just return the smile politely. "Oh, um—"

"A bottle of red," Jungkook cuts in smoothly before you can even decide. His voice is casual, but there's an unmistakable edge to it. "Something good."

The waiter glances at Jungkook then, as if only now acknowledging his presence. "Of course," he says, before turning to leave.

As soon as he's gone, Jungkook exhales through his nose, shaking his head slightly.

"What?" you ask, glancing at him curiously.

"Nothing." He leans back in his chair, eyes still subtly following the waiter's retreating figure. Then, he scoffs under his breath, muttering, "Do guys always flirt with you like that?"

You blink. "Flirt? Jungkook, he was just being nice.*"

Jungkook raises an eyebrow. "Nice?" He tilts his head. "Baby, he was two seconds away from asking for your number."

You roll your eyes. "Oh, please. I deal with worse at the diner."

Jungkook looks personally offended by that. "Worse?" His hand finds your knee under the table, gripping gently. "And you just let that happen?"

You laugh, shaking your head. "Jungkook, it's not that serious."

"It is to me," he murmurs, eyes dark and unreadable. His fingers tighten just slightly, his thumb tracing warm, lazy circles over your skin.

Your breath catches, heat crawling up your spine.

Yeah. He's definitely not over it.

The moment the waiter returns, Jungkook already looks annoyed. You can tell from the way his jaw is clenched, his fingers drumming against the table like he's barely holding back from saying something.

And then, just as the waiter places the wine bottle down, he subtly slides a neatly folded napkin toward you.

Jungkook sees it immediately.

"do you serve all your bottles of wine with that?" he deadpans, his voice sharp enough to cut through glass.

The waiter visibly stiffens, eyes darting between you and Jungkook, suddenly realizing he might've made a very big mistake.

You, on the other hand, have to bite down on your lip to stop yourself from laughing.

Because Jungkook? Oh, he's pissed.

The poor guy turns red, clearing his throat awkwardly before hurriedly snatching the napkin back. "Enjoy your wine," he mutters, practically fleeing from the table.

You round on Jungkook the second he's gone. "What the fuck was that?"

Jungkook blinks, feigning innocence. "What? He left you his number, idiot."

"And?" you scoff. "That's exactly what you did when we met."

"Yeah, I know," Jungkook admits shamelessly, leaning back in his chair. Then, after a beat, he adds, "But it worked when I did it."

You roll your eyes, shaking your head with a sigh. "Jungkook, it's just you."

His smirk falters slightly. "What?"

You look at him then, really look at him, and squeeze his hand gently. "It's just you."

For a moment, Jungkook just stares. His lips part slightly, eyes scanning your face as if committing every detail to memory.

he smiles. not a cocky smirk, not a teasing grin, but something real. Something soft.

And just like that, all his jealousy melts away.

The food arrives, plated so beautifully that for a second, you just admire it, until you realize how tiny the portions are.

Jungkook immediately gives you a look, like, Yeah, of course.

"This is the type of expensive where the menu doesn't even have prices," you mumble, cutting into your meal. "Scary."

Jungkook smirks, pouring you more wine. "Good thing you don't have to worry about it, huh?"

You roll your eyes, but you can't help the way your heart flutters at how effortless he makes all of this.

By the time he's ordered his third steak, you're full, but he's definitely not. You can tell by the way he keeps side-eyeing your plate.

"Jungkook," you deadpan, nudging it toward him.

"What?" he feigns innocence, but he's already cutting into your steak with a little too much enthusiasm.

You sigh, deciding to mess with him. Instead of using your knife, you stab a piece with your fork, not at all elegantly, and hold it up.

Jungkook snorts. "You're really about to feed me like this?"

"Take it or leave it," you tease, wiggling the fork in front of his face.

He laughs, loud, carefree, before dramatically leaning forward and biting into it straight from the fork. His teeth chomp down exaggeratedly, and you nearly lose it when a couple of waiters glance over, looking mildly horrified.

"Oh my god," you whisper, covering your mouth. "They're staring."

Jungkook just chews smugly, completely unbothered. "They've clearly never seen fine dining before."

Jungkook polishes off the last bite from your plate like a man on a mission, but then, all of a sudden, his face shifts, his expression faltering for just a second.

You catch it immediately. "Wait... was it too much?"

"No," he says quickly, though the way he exhales after is not very convincing. "I'm just…. I'm just stirring."

Your eyebrows knit together. "You're stirring?"

"Yeah, like—like the food is just settling," he says, trying to play it off.

It takes all of two seconds for you to connect the dots. "Oh my god, you totally ate too much."

"I'm fine."

"You're totally not…" You lean forward, grinning at him. "This is what happens when you eat three steaks."

"Hey, they only served me half each time, so technically it was just one and a half," he argues.

"Whatever you say."

You shake your head in amusement and check your phone absentmindedly when a notification lights up the screen. The time catches your eye. 9:30 PM.

You quickly set your phone down, shaking your head slightly. You don't even say anything, but Jungkook picks up on it instantly. His fingers tighten slightly around yours on the table, and when you glance at him, there's understanding in his eyes.

He doesn't say anything about it. Just gives your hand a little squeeze before suddenly inhaling like he's made a decision.

"Ihave something to tell you," he says.

You tilt your head, watching him. "What?"

Jungkook shifts in his seat, his thumb running circles over the back of your hand. "I love you."

You blink. "You already told me this a million times."

Jungkook shakes his head. "No, I don't think I ever really told you properly."

That makes you pause. You straighten up, sensing the sincerity behind his words. "You did. At the beach."

He exhales a soft laugh, then laces his fingers fully with yours. "I love you so much. I think I've confessed about four times, but I can't help myself. But take this as my proper one."

You raise an eyebrow. "Oh, so you just wanted to do it in a fancy restaurant?"

"No." His lips curve, eyes warm as he watches you. "I wanted to do it now. Because it felt right."

His voice drops slightly, a raw honesty slipping through. "You know, I always say I love you because it just feels so easy to say. But it's more than that."

Your breath stills as he leans forward, his gaze holding you in place.

"I love the way you wake up in the morning, all groggy and confused."

"I love how you get excited over the smallest things—like your little weird…pastel yellow plushie obsession."

"I love how simple you are. Not in a bad way—just... you don't need much to be happy, and that's one of the most beautiful things about you."

His voice softens even more. "I love how fun you are. I love how you look, your eyes, your nose, your lips, your hair."

"I love how you talk, the way you articulate things. The way you move through the world. The way you smile. The way you laugh. The way you get mad at me."

His lips curl into a smirk. "That one's kinda hot, by the way."

You gasp and smack his arm. "Don't ruin the moment."

Jungkook chuckles, but his grip on your hand tightens slightly, grounding you. "I love every single part of you. And I want you to know that."

His touch lingers. His eyes search yours.

Your throat tightens as the weight of his confession settles over you.

"Jungkook..." You barely get his name out, your voice whispery, breath shaky.

He doesn't rush you. He just watches, his thumb smoothing over the back of your hand, letting you find your words.

And when you finally do, your eyes are glassy, your grip on him tightening. "I love you so much. I don't... know what I'll do when you're gone."

Jungkook's lips part slightly, his expression shifting into something softer, something deeper.

Your breath wavers. "I love everything about you. I love Jungkook—the idol. The one everyone sees. I love how much you love your fans, how much passion you put into your work. How you once told me you wanted to be an artist, and yet you're already the most artistic person I've ever seen."

He swallows thickly, his eyes not once leaving you.

"You capture things in a way no one else does. With your music. With your stupid, big-ass camera." You let out a breathy laugh, wiping at your cheek before looking back at him. "You always say you're just trying things out, but you don't even realize how talented you are."

Jungkook exhales, shaking his head slightly, but you don't let him deflect.

"But I also love you—you. The person behind jungkook. The person who smiles at me when he thinks I'm not looking. The person who hums under his breath when he's happy. The person who—" You pause, a small grin forming, "—has the cutest little moles."

Jungkook blinks, caught off guard. "My moles?"

You nod, eyes twinkling through your tears. "Yeah. You have a really cute one right here."

Your fingers brush gently under his chin, right over the tiny mole there. His skin burns under your touch, a soft pink rising to his cheeks.

Before he can say anything, you lean over the table awkwardly, pressing a delicate kiss to the spot.

His breath stutters, his entire face now a deep shade of red. "Stop," he murmurs, utterly flustered.

You grin. "You're like a chocolate chip cookie."

Jungkook groans, hiding his face in his hands. "Oh my god, shut up."

You giggle, squeezing his fingers between yours. "Anyway."

He peeks at you through his hands, still completely red, but he's smiling.

And you continue.

"I love your eyes, your nose, your lips—" Your voice softens, "I love your voice. God, I love your voice. I love when you hum, when you sing, when you talk to me about the most random things."

Jungkook watches you like you've just knocked the wind out of him.

"I love the way you treat me. I love that, even though the world sees you as this extravagant, larger-than-life person, I know you're just as simple as I am." You give his hand one last squeeze. "Just a boy who loves music. Just a boy who loves steak way too much."

Jungkook laughs, his eyes shining, his grip on you unwavering.

"Just a boy who I love. So, so much."

Jungkook is looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky. Like you're the only thing that matters.

And for a long moment, neither of you speak. You just sit there, fingers interlocked across the table, your thumbs brushing over each other's skin, your hearts beating in sync.

It's comfortable. It's warm. It's everything.

Until the moment is rudely shattered by the waiter clearing his throat beside the table.

Jungkook scoffs, visibly annoyed, and you quickly recognize the waiter. it's the same one who had been flirting with you earlier.

The poor guy is now shakily reaching for the plates, avoiding Jungkook's stare entirely, but before he can clear the table—

"Did we say we were done?" Jungkook deadpans, one brow raised.

Your eyes widen. "Jungkook," you whisper, kicking him under the table.

He immediately glares at you, but you flash an apologetic smile to the waiter. "Sorry. Do you mind waiting just a little longer?"

The waiter, still looking a little pale, nods quickly. "Of course! My apologies." He scurries off, leaving Jungkook still grumbling under his breath.

You turn back to him, barely holding back a giggle. "Hey, stop. You're literally a kid."

Jungkook huffs. "I don't care. You're mine."

Your face heats up, but you roll your eyes, nudging his foot under the table again. "Oh, shut up."

But then an idea pops into your head, and your grin widens. "Wanna get shitty ice cream again?"

Jungkook freezes. "Oh my god, absolutely not. We are not driving two hours for ice cream again."

You laugh. "Not two hours! I know a place near the diner where you can get it."

He eyes you suspiciously before exhaling. "Fine. Yeah, sure." Then, his lips curl up. "And after that? The field?"

You nod. "The field."

Jungkook grins, and before you can say anything else, you're both getting up.

You run ahead, giggling, and Jungkook follows. his hand immediately finding yours again as soon as you're outside.

You slide into the car with a sigh, already feeling the ache in your feet from the heels you've been wearing all night. Without hesitation, you reach down and slip them off, letting out a small hum of relief.

"Finally," you mutter, stretching out your legs.

Jungkook barely glances at you as he starts the car, but the moment you prop your legs up on his dashboard, he does a double take.

"Hey—!" His brows furrow, one hand gripping the steering wheel while the other swats at your ankles. "Get your stinky feet off my car."

You gasp dramatically. "Excuse me?! My feet are not stinky!"

"Debatable."

Narrowing your eyes, you smirk. "Oh, yeah?" And before he can react, you wiggle your toes dangerously close to his face, nudging his cheek playfully.

"*Oh my god—" Jungkook groans, jerking away, but he's laughing. "Stop!"

"Nope." You push them closer, grinning when he lets out a dramatic sigh—until suddenly—

He bites you.

"Jungkook—!" You shriek, jerking your foot back in absolute horror. "*What the fuck?!"

Jungkook is already cackling, his shoulders shaking as he reaches out, catching your ankles before you can pull them away completely. "Sorry," He doesn't sound sorry at all. "Couldn't resist."

You glare at him, crossing your arms, but then he does something that makes your breath hitch.

Instead of letting go, he settles your feet into his lap, his fingers idly tracing the skin where he bit you. His touch is warm, barely there, his thumb skimming slow circles along your ankle.

Your body suddenly feels too hot.

The car hums around you as he pulls onto the road, one hand steady on the wheel, the other still resting lazily on your shin. You lean against the door, your temple pressed to the cool glass, but your focus is entirely on the feeling of Jungkook's fingers drifting absentmindedly over your legs.

His touch is light anf casual but the warmth of his palm sends a shiver up your spine. And, he looks good like this. One hand gripping the steering wheel, his jaw flexing as he shifts gears, the dim glow of the streetlights casting sharp shadows over his face.

you don't think your heart has ever beat this fast in your life.

——

you arrive near the diner, parking a little further away, right outside a small convenience store. The moment Jungkook spots the freezer outside, identical to the one from that little village, he groans, hes so dramatic.

"God, I already know this is gonna be terrible," he complains, shaking his head.

"Look, they have soo many flavors," you counter, tugging on his sleeve. "Come on, let's go."

You reach down to grab your heels from where you discarded them earlier, but before you can even think about slipping them back on, Jungkook beats you to it. He walks around to your side, opens the door like a total gentleman, and then, kneels down. On the actual pavement.

ur breath catches as he carefully slides the heels onto your feet, his fingers brushing against your ankles. And then,he presses a kiss to the top of your foot like it's the most normal thing in the world.

Fucking hell.

You don't even have time to process it because he just takes your hand and starts walking toward the store like nothing just happened. And what's worse? He doesn't seem to care about any of the people who might be watching. It's late, so the streets near the diner aren't too busy, but still. The risk is there. You just don't say anything about it.

the second you reach the freezer, you grab the same strawberry ice cream from last time, earning a scoff from Jungkook. "You're not even gonna try another flavor?" he teases.

"Nuh uh. The strawberry one was so good last time, I have to get it again."

He huffs but then softens. "I'll buy you a million of them."

Your face heats up, and you mumble something about turning pink from the ice cream, brushing it off with a laugh. Jungkook, meanwhile, initially picks vanilla, calling it the "safest flavor," before something catches his eye.

A banana ice cream.

The vanilla is abandoned so fast that you actually burst out laughing as he grabs the banana one instead.

of course, he pays. obviously.

Back in the car, you take a bite of your ice cream immediately, humming in delight.

Jungkook eyes his own ice cream warily “…im scared to try this."

He finally takes a bite, and immediately gags. "Oh, fucking gross. It's gross."

you laugh at the sheer pout on his face. "I thought it would taste good because it's banana," he grumbles.

"Let me try."

You take a bite, and it's actually really fucking good. Before you know it, you've got both ice creams in your hands, switching between them like some kind of dessert thief. Jungkook just chuckles, shaking his head at you.

"You literally just stole my ice cream."

You shush him, laughing it off before he puts the car in drive, throwing your legs onto his lap.

You know it's slightly inconvenient for him because of the gear shift, or whatever it's called—the car stick thing—but he doesn't complain. He just awkwardly reaches over when he needs to, his hand brushing against your thigh each time. You catch the slight press of his lips, the way his fingers flex on the wheel like he's concentrating a little harder than necessary, but he doesn't say a word. And you? You're too comfortable to move.

You watch the city lights blur past, ice cream melting against your tongue, time slipping away faster than you can hold onto it.

And then, just like that, you're pulling up to the field.

Your heart sinks.

Because this was it. The last thing you'd planned for the night. The final stop before what? Before reality? Before something shifts again?

You check the time. 10:30, maybe closer to 11. You blink at your phone screen. It feels impossible. Like the hours had been slipping through your fingers like sand, faster and faster, and now, suddenly, you're running out.

You shake it off before it settles too deep in your chest. No use in mourning something that hasn't ended yet.

The two of you just sit there for a while, staring at the sign ahead, the sky yawning wide and dark above you. Jungkook exhales, leans his head back against the seat.

"remembere how I told you this was where I came to cool off?" His voice is soft, thoughtful.

You nod. “The day you found out I was leaving," he continues, fingers tapping absentmindedly on your shin, "I actually came here."

Your breath stills.

Jungkook turns his head slightly, eyes locked on the field ahead. "From that day, I knew this place would never be the same again. Not without you."

And just like that, the night air feels heavier. The silence stretches, thick with unspoken things. You don't know what to say, so you don't.

You just let it play out.

Eventually, you both decide to actually walk to the field.

It's almost instinct, the way your bodies move, the way your feet find the familiar path without needing to think. jungkook knows it way better than you, he always has, but still, you walk side by side, like you've done so many times before.

The night air is cool against your skin, the quiet hum of crickets filling the space between your words, or lack thereof. And when you finally reach your spot, you notice the subtle changes.

The patches of grass where you've sat before are slightly worn, flattened from past nights spent here. the lights, the ones you strung up together ages ago, are still there, tangled and weathered but intact.

Jungkook steps ahead, reaching for them. He flicks the switch, and somehow they still work.

the glow isn't as bright as it once was, flickering in some places, dimmer in others, but it's enough.

jungkook lets out a small, satisfied breath before turning back to you, taking a seat on the ground. Without thinking, you do the same, not caring in the slightest that your dress is getting ruined in the process.

Jungkook notices, though.

He huffs, shaking his head as he shrugs off his leather jacket, the one he'd grabbed from the car earlier, and lays it down on the grass. Then he looks at you, expectant. "Sit on this."

You scoff. "It's fine."

"No, sit."

"Jungkook—"

"Yeah." He says it like that's the end of the conversation, nodding once like you don't have a choice.

And maybe you don't, because with the way he's looking at you, the way he's already patting the space beside him, you just roll your eyes and sit back down.

And the night goes on.

The night is dark. so much darker than you remember. The fairy lights barely make a difference anymore, their glow faint and flickering, swallowed whole by the vast, empty field.

Silence sits between you, thick and heavy, but it's never been uncomfortable with Jungkook. Except now now, there's something different.

u feel it before you see it. The way his body shakes more than usual, the uneven rise and fall of his chest, the way his breath hitches every few seconds.

And when you look up, you see the tears.

He's covering his face, trying to wipe them away quickly, his fingers pressing into his eyes like he can stop them by force. "I'm sorry," he mumbles, voice strained and broken. "I don't wanna ruin it. Just—just ignore me."

You don't.

Instead, you reach for his wrists, gently pulling them away from his face. He's always comforted you so its your turn now. You've had enough of him apologizing, of pretending he's okay when he's clearly falling apart.

His hands tremble in yours, but you don't let go. You guide them down to his lap, and then you're cupping his face, tilting it toward you.

Jungkook sniffles, blinking rapidly, and before he can say anything, before he can tell you again that he's fine, you press your lips to his.

It's not desperate, not rushed. It's slow, soft, steady. But more than that, it's warm. Safe. You let your lips brush against the tear tracks on his cheeks, wiping them away with every kiss, like you can kiss away his sadness if you try hard enough.

And he sobs into your mouth.

His body shakes even harder, his fingers curling into the fabric of your dress, gripping onto you like he's afraid you'll disappear if he lets go.

"You're okay," you whisper against his lips, not sure if you're trying to convince him or yourself.

But he isn't. Not really. Because the next thing you know, he's breaking all over again, sobbing into your shoulder like he did this morning—like a child, raw and unfiltered.

"I don't wanna leave," he chokes out. "I don't want this to end."

His words come out rushed, jumbled together between his gasping breaths. "I don't wanna leave you, I don't wanna leave my family, I don't wanna leave anyone—"

And that's when you realize.

It's bigger than you, bigger than this moment, bigger than anything you can fix with a simple kiss.

So you don't try.

You just hold him,

You let him bury his face into your chest, let him soak your dress in tears, let him fall apart completely. And when his breathing gets too ragged, when he starts to spiral, you cup his face again, guiding his teary eyes to yours.

"Breathe," you tell him softly.

And he does. Slowly, shakily, he does.

Jungkook sits beside you, knees drawn up, forearms resting on them as he stares out into the horizon. He hasn't said much since he stopped cdying, but you don't push him.

Not yet.

"I don't think I've ever really had friends."

You turn to look at him, your brows furrowing at the sudden confession. His gaze stays locked on the horizon, but there's something distant in his eyes, something lost in the past.

"I mean, I've had people around me my whole life," he continues, his voice low, careful. "My members, my fans... they're everything to me. But I never really had the time to—" He pauses, exhaling sharply through his nose. "I never got to just... be a kid. You know? Goof off with friends after school, sneak out late, fall in love in a normal way."

Your heart clenches.

He finally turns to you then, a small, almost apologetic smile on his lips. "That's probably why I'm so bad at this. At us." His fingers toy with the loose thread on his sleeve. "I've never done this before. Not like this."

There's a quiet ache in his voice that makes your throat tighten.

You don't even think, your arms move on their own, pulling him in gently, and to your surprise, he lets you. He leans into you, head resting against your chest, his ear right over your heartbeat. His breath is warm against your skin, and when he exhales, it's shaky.

"I feel bad for my mom and dad, too," he murmurs after a moment. "I know they're proud of me. But I feel like I was gone before they even had the chance to hold on. Like I ran out of time with them before I even realized what I was missing."

You run your fingers through his hair, slow, comforting. He presses closer.

"I guess that's why I've always been so attached to my fans," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "It sounds stupid, but I really do believe they're my friends. It's the closest thing I've ever had to that kind of connection." His thumb strokes mindless patterns against your wrist. "That's why I go live so much. Why I try to talk to them whenever I can. It makes the loneliness feel a little less... heavy."

Your chest tightens at his words.

You've always known Jungkook as the golden boy, the superstar, the performer, the one who shines effortlessly on stage. But here, like this, in your arms, he's just a boy who never got the chance to live the way he wanted. A boy who's spent his whole life giving himself to the world, never knowing what it felt like to have someone to fall back on.

And now, for the first time, he does.

You.

You press a kiss to the top of his head, feeling the way his body relaxes against you, the weight of his emotions finally settling. He lets out a deep breath, like he's been holding it in for too long.

"You're not alone, Jungkook," you whisper, your chin resting against his hair. "Not anymore."

He doesn't say anything right away, but his fingers tighten around yours, holding on like he believes you.

Like he finally has something to hold on to.

"But you..." He finally turns to face you, and the way he's looking at you makes your breath hitch. His eyes are dark, glassy, filled with something too big for words. "You're different. This—" He gestures vaguely between you. "I've never had this before. I don't even know if I'm doing it right."

He laughs, but it's hollow.

"I probably messed everything up, didn't I?" His voice cracks, and suddenly, he's folding in on himself, elbows digging into his knees, hands running down his face. "I should have told you sooner. I should have—I don't know. I don't even know what I should have done, I just—"

His breath shudders, and that's when you realize—he's crying again.

It starts off quiet, just a few shaky exhales, but then it breaks. His shoulders tremble, his hands curl into fists, and suddenly he's sobbing, everything he's held in for so long spilling out all at once.

"I always run out of time." His voice is raw, wrecked. "With everything. With everyone. And now I finally have something that feels—" He squeezes his eyes shut. "I finally have you and I—" His breath stutters. "I'm leaving."

You don't say anything. You just watch him.

Because this isn't something you can fix.

He needs to feel this.

His hands are shaking, so you reach out slowly, carefull, nd take them in yours. Thread your fingers through his. Squeeze. Not to tell him it's okay, not to tell him to stop crying, just to let him know you're here.

And that's when he breaks completely, his whole body shudders, and before you can even process it, he's leaning into you, forehead pressing against your shoulder, hands gripping your waist like you're the only thing keeping him from falling apart entirely.

"I'm sorry," he chokes out, voice muffled against you. "I'm so fucking sorry."

And then, quieter, like it's something he isn't supposed to say. something he knows he shouldn't say, "Please don't leave me."

Your breath catches.

"I know it's selfish." His voice is shaking, hands gripping you tighter. "It's so fucking selfish of me to ask you to wait. To make you wait. To make everyone wait. My family, my fans, you—"

His voice breaks.

"But I—" A sharp inhale. "I don't want to do this and come back to nothing. To no one."

The words tear out of him, raw and desperate.

"I know I don't deserve to ask you this. I just—" He squeezes his eyes shut, shaking his head like he hates himself for saying it. "Please."

And then, so quietly you almost don't hear it:

He exhales, voice shaking.

"I thought it was just... part of who I am, you know? That I'd always feel a little bit empty, always be searching for something I couldn't name."

He swallows, eyes flickering up to meet yours, wet and shining under the moonlight.

"I never thought it would be a person. I never thought you—" He lets out a weak laugh, shaking his head, like he can't believe it. "—would fill it so effortlessly."

Your chest tightens.

Because it's not a confession. Not in the traditional sense. It's bigger than that.

"I'll be here."

Jungkook stills.

For a moment, he doesn't move. Doesn't breathe. Then, slowly, his grip on you tightens, and his body sags against yours, like something inside him has given up.

You don't tell him that when he actually leaves, when he's actually gone, that's when you'll break.

You don't tell him how hard it'll be to wake up in the morning knowing he won't be around to tease you, to text you, to steal your food or show up unannounced just to see you.

You don't tell him how much this already hurts.

You just let him hold you. Because you know. And he knows. And for tonight, that has to be enough.

The stars are scattered like quiet secrets above you, and the moon hangs full and heavy in the sky, bathing the world in silver.

Jungkook tilts his head back, eyes tracing the constellations, his beanie pulled low over his ears. He hasnt even fidgeted or hummed like he usually does. He just sits there, looking, like he's trying to memorize the sky before he has to go.

You want to memorize him.

So you do the only thing you can tk save the moment, you pull out your phone, angling it carefully, making sure the screen's brightness is low, and press the shutter. The soft click of the camera is barely audible, but Jungkook still shifts, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.

His brows furrow. "Did you just—"

"No," you lie, tucking your phone away.

His lips twitch, like he wants to argue, but instead, he sighs. Then, slowly, he reaches up and pulls off his beanie.

And your chest tightens.

His hair is so much shorter now, it's buzzed, not enough to fall over his forehead, the dark strands shaped close to his head. He runs a hand over it, almost self-consciously, his jaw flexing before he glances at you.

"Looks weird, huh?"

You shake your head before he can even finish the thought.

"No."

His tongue presses against the inside of his cheek, like he doesn't quite believe you. Like this is another thing he has to grapple with, another piece of himself he has to let go of.

So you shift closer, reaching for him before he can shrink away. Your palms are warm against his jaw, thumbs brushing over the sharp lines of his cheekbones. He stills.

"You're perfect to me."

The words are so soft, barely a whisper between you.

You trace the space where his lip ring used to be, your fingertips ghosting over the smooth skin. Then up, over his cupid's bow, over the slope of his nose, the arch of his brows, the sharp edges and soft curves that make up him.

Jungkook swallows hard, eyes searching yours, dark and wide. His hands hover at your waist, like he doesn't know what to do with them, like he's bracing himself.

"You know how blind people recognize the people they love?" you murmur, running your fingers over his face like you're memorizing him.

His brows knit together slightly. "What?"

"They touch them. They trace their features with their fingers." Your thumb skims over his cheekbone, down to the sharp cut of his jaw. "If I went blind, I think I'd still know you."

His breath hitches.

He doesn't say anything.

Doesn't have to say anything.

Because the way he looks at you, like you just shattered him and put him back together in the same breath, is enough.

you feel shudder in his breath. The way his shoulders tremble just slightly. The quiet sniffle he tries to suppress but fails.

"Don't ever apologize for this," you finally say, your voice quiet but firm, the weight of it settling between you. "None of this is your fault. You didn't choose this. You didn't ask to be put under a microscope your whole life, to have to give up so much just to do what you love. You didn't ask to leave the people you care about for nearly two years, to put your life on pause while everything else keeps moving. So don't—don't say sorry. Not for this."

You swallow hard, feeling the sting at the back of your throat, but you don't let it break you. Not yet.

"I'll miss you so much" you admit, softer now, fingers tightening slightly where they rest against his arm. "I already miss you, and you haven't even left yet. And I know it's going to be hard. I know there are going to be days where it's unbearable, where I won't know what to do with myself, where I'll hear something stupid on the news or see some ridiculous article, and I won't be able to just text you and ask if you're okay. I know there will be days where you feel alone, where you're frustrated, where you wish you could turn back time or make it go faster. And I hate that. I hate that for you, for me, for all of it."

You exhale shakily, blinking away the heat behind your eyes.

"But you're worth waiting for."

The words slip out easily, as natural as breathing.

"You are worth every single second, every single day, every moment in between. And when you come back, whenever that is, I'll still be here. I don't care how much time passes, I don't care what people say, I don't care if it's selfish or unrealistic or whatever else. You're worth it. And I'd wait a hundred years if I had to."

Your voice wavers slightly on the last word, and you bite your lip, tilting your head back slightly, forcing yourself to breathe through it. You won't cry. Not now. Not yet.

Instead, you look at him, really look at him. At the unshed tears clinging to his lashes, the way his breath stutters unevenly in his chest, the way he clings to you like you're the only thing keeping him grounded.

"So don't—don't waste your energy feeling guilty. Just... be okay, Jungkook. Take care of yourself. Get through this. And when you come back—" your voice catches just slightly, but you push through it, offering the faintest smile, "—I'll be right here.

And then, without another word, Jungkook leans in. it's slow, deep. each movement carries the weight of everything he hasn't been able to say. His hands come up to cup your face, his thumbs brushing along your jaw, feeling the contours of you just like you did, as if he's memorisijg the moment. It's almost like time stops, everything around you blurring away.

when you pull apart, there's no awkwardness, just a heavy silence that hangs between you both. You both know what's coming, but neither of you is ready to say it yet.

Without breaking the quiet, you tug gently on the hem of his hoodie, nudging him down beside you. He doesn't hesitate, just follows you, the pull of the moment too strong to resist.

You lie down together on the cool grass, the sky above slowly darkening into a blanket of stars. The silence isn't uncomfortable, it's the kind of quiet where you both understand everything without having to speak. Your head turns slightly to look at him, and you feel his gaze on you, even if you're not sure if he's looking at the sky, or at you.

A soft laugh escapes him. "You're gonna get your dress all dirty, you know."

You roll your eyes, nudging him with your elbow. "You're such a dork."

The teasing lightens the air, and for a moment, it feels like things are just as they should be. He glances up at the stars, but you can feel the shift. he's not looking at the sky anymore. His focus is on you.

"You know," you murmur quietly, "the stars don't look as pretty as they did the last time we were here."

He hums, a sound that vibrates deep in his chest. "Yeah... I think I know why," he says softly, though his eyes are still on you, tracing every little detail of your face.

Because you're prettier than any star in the sky could be, he thinks. he knows.

The air feels a little lighter now. The weight of Jungkook's earlier breakdown lingers, but it's softened by the warmth between you. by the laughter that's been spilling from your lips for the past five minutes over something so stupid.

You notice a patch of daisies nearby. You point toward it. "Is that where you pick them from?"

Jungkook follows your gaze, nodding with a small grin. "Yeah. I usually find the best ones there."

You hum in response before pushing yourself up to your feet.

Jungkook tilts his head. "Where are you going?"

You wave a hand at him. "No, stay."

He watches as you walk over, stepping carefully between the clusters of flowers before kneeling down. The grass is soft against your knees, the air cool against your skin, and as you reach forward to pluck a single daisy from the patch, Jungkook subtly lifts his phone.

The shutter clicks.

You don't hear it. You're too focused on standing back up, brushing your hands over your dress before making your way back to him.

Jungkook watches you, eyes warm, lips slightly parted. You're holding the daisy so delicately between your fingers, like it's something special.

And then you stop in front of him, extending it toward him with the sweetest little smile. "Since you always get me some, here's one for you."

Jungkook stares at it for a second, then at you. Then, his lips twist into a teasing pout. "Just one?"

You whine, shifting your weight. "Jungkook, I have a dress on."

He chuckles, reaching out to take the flower from you. "I'm joking. I love it."

And you can tell he does.

He twirls the stem between his fingers, then smooths his thumb over the petals, gentle. so incredibly gentle. His big, rough, tattooed hand contrasts starkly with the fragile daisy, and something about it is just so endearing to watch.

like he's holding something irreplaceable.

Jungkook twirls the daisy between his fingers a couple more times before he tucks it behind his ear, glancing at you with a playful tilt of his head.

"Do I look cute?"

You roll your eyes, but the way your fingers automatically thread through his hair betrays you. "You've always been cute."

Jungkook grins, leaning slightly into your touch before pulling back with a teasing squint. "You know," he starts, "I always pretend I hate it when you call me cute, but I secretly love it."

Your jaw drops. ", I knew it."

He bursts into giggles, eyes crinkling, bunny teeth showing, and god, he is cute. Like, ridiculously cute. But also hot. Like, really fucking hot. It's almost unfair. the way he can switch between the two so effortlessly.

The rough tattoos, the sharp jawline, the way his hands dwarf yours when they intertwine. all of it screams hot. But then he does this. sits there with a tiny daisy tucked behind his ear, giggling like an actual child, dimples deep, nose scrunching—and he's just... adorable.

The duality is insane.

And, honestly? It's been driving you insane too.

Jungkook is still grinning, twirling the daisy between his fingers when he suddenly goes, "You know, I got my schedule this morning."

You blink. "Oh—what is it?"

He pauses for dramatic effect, then sighs. "Well... I feel like we might be being a little bit dramatic."

Your heart stutters. "What?"

"I can visit." He bites back a smile. "Every few weekends."

You just stare at him. "...Seriously?"

He nods, lips quirking up. "I know, right? Like, when I saw it, I was expecting maybe a day off every month, but no—some weekends i don't have to be there." He shakes his head in disbelief. "And, like, some random weekdays too."

Your brain short-circuits. "Are you serious?"

Jungkook's grin widens. "Yeah."

You don't think. you just launch at him, arms flying around his neck as you knock him straight onto the ground. He lets out a surprised laugh as he lands flat on his back, and you're practically squealing, clinging onto him like you never want to let go.

"Jungkook, oh my god—oh my god!!"

He's laughing beneath you, hands coming up to hold your waist, grounding you. "I know."

You pull back just enough to see his face, his bright, shining eyes looking right at you, and you can't even think straight. You're so happy. So stupidly happy.

He's not disappearing.

Not completely.

“Jungkook—, we have to come back here, And—and we have to go to the diner, and then we have to go to another nice village, but obviously not like the last one—"

You're rambling, voice bubbling over with pure joy, listing off all the things you want to do together now that you can. Your heart feels light, your mind racing faster than you can even keep up with.

Jungkook doesn't say anything, just watches you with this impossibly soft look, his hands still steady on your waist, grounding you. He lets you go on, your voice filling the quiet night air, until,

he leans up and presses a quick, sudden kiss to your lips.

It's barely a second, a light peck, nothing deep or demanding—but it shuts you up instantly.

Your eyes widen

Jungkook pulls back, a lazy, satisfied grin curling at his lips. "You were talking too much."

Then, in the midst of it, Jungkook hums, tilting his head slightly. "Do you think I'll see Nari before I go?"

You blink, caught off guard by the shift in conversation. "I'm not sure... If you want, I can get her to come over in the morning?"

Jungkook nods. "Yeah. I just wanna thank her and say goodbye, you know? She's done a lot for me. And obviously, she does a lot for you. I just wanna acknowledge that."

Your heart clenches at that. It's so him—to think about Nari too, to want to express gratitude even in a moment like this.

"Honestly," you murmur, "I feel like I genuinely couldn't do this without her."

Jungkook smiles, rubbing soothing circles into your waist. "Me too. You wouldn't be sat here in front of me without Nari, so—"

"No." You cut him off before he can finish, shaking your head with a soft but sure look in your eyes. "Something would've brought us together anyway."

Jungkook stares at you for a beat, lips parting slightly like he's about to argue—but then he just exhales a small laugh, a little in awe, a little in love. "Yeah?"

You nod, unwavering. "Yeah."

And it's so cute—the way his gaze lingers, the way his lips twitch like he's fighting the urge to grin, like he wants to believe in fate just as much as you do.

At some point, Jungkook pulls out a cig, shifting you off his lap before he stands up. He doesn't say anything, just moves away slightly so you don't have to breathe it in. You watch as he lights it up, taking a slow drag before exhaling into the night air. The faint glow of the ember flickers in the dark, casting soft shadows over his face. He looks really fucking attractive like this—his sharp jawline, the furrow of his brows, the way his lips part ever so slightly as he exhales.

Something about it, about the way he looks right now, or maybe just the mood of the night.makes you feel a little….rebellious.

"Can I try?" you ask suddenly.

Jungkook scoffs, barely sparing you a glance as he takes another drag. "What?”

You pout. "Please? Just one hit."

"No. Why?" He turns to look at you now, eyes narrowed.

You huff, crossing your arms. "I just wanna try."

"Absolutely not."

You pull out the big guns then, jutting your lip out in an exaggerated pout. "Pleaaaase?"

He exhales sharply through his nose, shaking his head. "Fine. But just the tiniest hit."

You grin, stepping closer as he hands it to you. You take it between your fingers, bring it to your lips, and. immediately regret it. The second you inhale, your throat burns, and you start sputtering, coughing so hard you double over.

Jungkook laughs, taking the cigarette back effortlessly. "See? Told you."

You wave a hand in front of your face, still coughing. "No offense, but how the fuck do you smoke that?"

He shrugs, bringing it back to his lips. "Calms me down."

You wrinkle your nose, still feeling the sting in your throat.

Jungkook takes another slow drag, exhaling into the night before letting out a soft chuckle. "You know, I used to hate how my dad smoked. I promised myself I'd never do it." He shakes his head, a wry smile on his lips. "Look at me now, though."

You watch him quietly, the way the dim light flickers against his features. "To be fair, I don't do it regularly," he continues. "Only when I'm really stressed."

Your brows lift slightly. "Oh... do you feel stressed right now?"

Jungkook shakes his head, exhaling softly. "No, not really. I just don't know when I'm gonna be able to smoke again, to be honest. So I figured, one last smoke here."

You tilt your head. "Do your parents let you do all this? Like, tattoos, piercings, smoking?“

He smirks, turning toward you. "What happened to me being cute?"

You roll your eyes. "You know what I mean."

He laughs, dropping the cigarette to the ground and pressing it out with his shoe. "Nah, my parents never really cared about the tattoos or piercings. That was never a big deal to them. The smoking..." He winces slightly. "Yeah, my mom wasn't thrilled. But she knows I'm not stupid. I don't do it regularly, and she trusts me."

He runs a hand through his hair before letting out another short laugh. "Oh my god, but you should've seen the video that got leaked of me smoking one time. Some fan took a video of me outside a restaurant a long time ago."

"It was weird, 'cause everyone actually backed me up. Like, all the people who usually hate on me were defending me, saying I'm an adult and I can do what I want. It was... nice, for a change."

His voice drops slightly, and his fingers twitch at his sides. "I just wish it was like that for other things."

You know what he means. Relationships. Dating. You.

But you don't say anything.

Jungkook huffs, shaking his head. "I don't know, I just think they pick and choose when to be on my side."

He doesn't look at you when he says it, just stares out at the empty field, like the weight of it all is sinking in again.

Jungkook takes one last drag before flicking the cigarette against the tree, watching the ember flicker for a second before instinctively tossing it to the ground.

You frown. "Jungkook."

He looks at you, confused. "What?"

You just glare at him, arms crossed.

Realization dawns on his face, and he sighs, shaking his head with a small laugh. "Okay, okay," he mutters, bending down to pick it up. He flicks it into a nearby trash can before turning back to you with a teasing grin. "Sorry."

You roll your eyes, but before you can say anything, he steps closer, reaching out to cup your face gently. His fingers thread through your hair, then trail down your arms, gliding over your waist, mapping out every curve of your body in the softest way possible. It's not rushed, not anything more than pure, unfiltered affection. But then,

His hands rest on your hips for a second before giving your ass a… squeeze.

You let out a squeal, swatting at him. "What are you doing?"

Jungkook just grins, tilting his head at you. "Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?"

You groan, rolling your eyes. "Always. You always do."

But he just shakes his head, his expression softening. "No, seriously." His thumbs brush against your cheeks, his eyes locked onto yours with that deep, unwavering gaze. "You're so pretty, baby. You' got this simple beauty that just had me from day one."

Jungkook just chuckles, squeezing your waist lightly. "Ah, see? You always act all tough, but you get shy so easily."

As Jungkook turns around, you act purely on impulse. You swing your hand back and smack his own ass, meant to be playful, but the sound comes off way too loud.

Jungkook freezes. His back stiffens, his head snapping toward you with wide eyes and red cheeks. "What did you just do?"

You gasp, barely suppressing a giggle. "Oh, shit."

Without a second thought, you kick off your heels and run.

"Come here!" Jungkook shouts, already chasing after you. His voice is breathless, somewhere between a laugh and a threat.

You're giggling uncontrollably, dodging between trees, your heart pounding as you hear his footsteps thudding closer. He's fast—way too fast—and before you know it, strong arms wrap around you from behind, lifting you off the ground.

"Got you."

You squeal as he spins you slightly, nearly knocking both of you over in the process.

"Jungkook!" you gasp between laughs. "We need to go back, I left my heels and my phone—our stuff is all over the place!"

But instead of responding, he hushes you, his voice softer now. "Shh. Wait. Look."

Then, he physically turns you around, hands still firm on your waist.

Your breath catches.

In front of you, nestled deeper into the forest, is a small, untouched lake. The water reflects the moonlight, shimmering against the dark, creating a dreamlike glow. The surrounding trees cast gentle shadows across the surface, their branches swaying slightly in the night breeze.

What truly takes your breath away, though, are the flowers. Unlike the rest of the field, which was full of wildflowers and tall grass, this secluded spot is untouched—full of daisies, spreading out like a delicate, white blanket.

For a second, you almost shiver, realizing how quiet and dark it is out here. But the beauty of it outweighs everything else.

"Wow," you murmur, unable to look away.

Jungkook's arms tighten around you as he rests his chin on the top of your head, his voice soft. "I've never been here before."

You tilt your head slightly. "Really?"

"Yeah," he hums, his voice full of quiet wonder. "But it's really pretty."

You don't say anything, just lean back into him as you both take in the view. The lake, the daisies, the way the moonlight spills across everything—it's like a hidden world only the two of you have discovered. You stand there for what feels like forever, just breathing, just existing together in the quiet magic of the moment.

Then, you shift forward slightly.

And immediately yelp in pain.

"Shit—what happened?" Jungkook's hold on you disappears instantly as he moves to face you.

You groan, wobbling as you lift your foot. "I stepped on something—fuck—oh my god—"

Jungkook kneels down, his hands hovering over your ankle before he sees it—the small but nasty gash at the bottom of your foot. His jaw tightens. "You're bleeding."

You're too busy pouting to notice how concerned he looks.

Without hesitation, he sweeps you up into his arms, cradling you bridal-style.

"Jungkook—!"

He doesn't give you a choice, already jogging back toward your makeshift picnic spot. You don't even complain, too caught up in the stinging pain and the slight panic rising in your chest.

When he reaches the jacket , he kneels and sets you down gently, immediately crouching in front of you. His hands carefully lift your foot, his brows furrowing as he inspects the wound.

"Baby," he sighs, glancing up at you. "I've got plasters in the car. Let me go get them."

"No—" You shake your head quickly, gripping his wrist.

He frowns. "This will get infected if we don't—"

"Please," you cut him off, voice urgent now. Your fingers tighten around his wrist as you franticaly shake your head. "Let's just wait a little bit longer."

Jungkook stares at you for a moment, reading the desperation in your eyes. He exhales, lips pressing together like he's debating arguing with you, but then he sighs, squeezing your knee gently.

"Okay. Just a little longer."

You reach up absentmindedly, fingers toying with his ears. His earrings are out now, the small holes in his lobes visible under the moonlight. You brush your thumb over them before focusing back on the lip ring, twisting it slightly between your fingers.

"When are you taking this out?" you murmur.

Jungkook watches you, his lips parting slightly. "Tomorrow," he says, then sighs. "But, honestly? I really don't want to."

You pout. "I'll miss it." Then, after a beat, you add, "But... you know, it is kind of annoying when we kiss."

Jungkook jerks his head back, scandalized. "What?! I thought you liked it!"

You grin. "I'm joking! I do."

But you're not done.

A sudden rush of affection takes over you, and you start pressing kisses all over his face, his cheek, his temple, the corner of his mouth. You move down to his jaw, then his neck, giggling between each kiss as Jungkook groans in protest.

"Baby—" he laughs, trying to hold you back slightly, but you're relentless.

"Shhh," you hush, smothering him in more kisses.

Jungkook sighs dramatically, tilting his head back as if defeated. "Fine. Do whatever you want."

You grin against his skin. "I always do."

You suddenly get a very random idea, one so ridiculous you almost don't say it, but then you do.

"I have an idea," you say, a little shyly.

Jungkook looks at you warily, already bracing himself. "What. God, I'm scared."

You hesitate for a second before blurting, "Can I draw faces on your abs?"

He blinks. Once. Twice.

And then he bursts out laughing. "What, right now?"

You nod enthusiastically. "Yes??”

Jungkook sighs, shaking his head with amusement, but still, he lifts his shirt a little, exposing his ridiculously toned stomach.

You immediately reach for your lip liner, leaning in as you begin drawing tiny little faces on each of his abs. A happy face, a sad one, a silly one, each one dumber than the last. Jungkook watches you, the occasional chuckle escaping his lips as you concentrate.

then, you pause, tilting your head. "You know, I never really counted before, but you actually have eight abs."

he smirks. "so I go to the gym every day for you not to notice?"

You roll your eyes. "I do notice. How could I not?"

He grins smugly, but before he can get another cocky remark in, you start squishing his abs lightly, pressing on the little faces you just drew. He groans but doesn't stop you, just watching you with an endeared expression.

"This should be your next tattoo," you tease, admiring your work.

Jungkook rolls his eyes. "For sure."

But secretly, he's thinking... if you really asked him to, he just might.

He would. 100%.

after, time passes in such a blur that it physically hurts. Every second that ticks by feels like a stab to your chest, like you can actually feel the minutes slipping through your fingers. And as much as it hurts emotionally, your foot isn't doing any better either. The dull ache from before has turned into a pulsing pain, sharp and relentless.

Jungkook notices immediately. His gaze flickers to your foot, then back to your face, and without a word, he starts packing everything up. There's no hesitation, no protest from you, it's like you both silently agree that this is it.

He carries you back to the car, careful and gentle, setting you down in the passenger seat before reaching into the glove box. He pulls out a bandage, his movements quiet but efficient as he wraps it around your injury.

"We'll clean it properly when we get home," he murmurs, securing the wrap.

Home.

You stare at him. "We're going home?"

Jungkook exhales through his nose, not quite solemn, but something close to it. He just nods.

You don't say anything else, just watch as he hesitates before starting the car. He takes his time, gripping the wheel, almost like he doesn't want to turn the key, doesn't want to make the drive back. But then he glances at your foot again and realizes he doesn't have a choice.

The car hums to life, and the ride back is silent.

At some point, you glance at the clock. 1:00 a.m.

Your stomach drops.

Because now, there are only seven hours left.

You swear it was just yesterday that he had seven days. A whole week. But now, it's seven hours, and the weight of it crashes down on you like a tidal wave.

Your fingers twitch before reaching for his hand, gripping it tightly, desperately. Jungkook doesn't flinch. He just squeezes back, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in slow, soothing strokes.

He doesn't need to say anything. He knows exactly what you're thinking.

And so, you drive back in silence.

When you arrive at your apartment building, you linger in the car for just a moment longer, trying to lighten the mood.

"So... what's the plan for tomorrow?" you ask, as if it's just another normal day. As if it's not the day.

Jungkook sees right through you. He knows you're just trying to drag out the moment, to stretch this car ride into something longer than it should be. But he humors you anyway.

"Well..." He exhales, eyes flickering toward the dashboard. "I have to leave at eight. I think they're picking me up from my apartment, so..." He pauses, then looks at you. "If you want, we can go to my place an hour before. I'll show you my uniform—try it on for you." He chuckles softly. "Somebody dropped it off earlier."

You nod, swallowing hard.

"Will I be able to... like, go with you? Drop you off at the place?"

Jungkook's lips press together before he shakes his head. "I dont think so..."

You nod again, this time slower, more understanding. Of course, that's something reserved for his family, his members. ppl who have been through every step of this journey with him. You wouldn't want to pry.

But still, it stings.

Jungkook squeezes your hand. "Let's go."

"Jungkook—"

He ignores you, opening the car door carrying you toward the building, but instead of heading to the elevator, he takes the stairs.

"Are you serious?" you groan, wrapping your arms around his neck. "The elevator was right there."

"What? I'm just showing off my strength," he says, playing it off with a smirk, but you know better. He's just trying to drag out time more, just like you did in the car.

You tease him about it all the way up, and he laughs, but neither of you acknowledge what this really is, one of the last walks up to your apartment together for a long time.

When you finally reach your door, you fumble with your keys, your hands slightly shaking from exhaustion, from nerves, from everything.

"Hurry up," Jungkook teases, standing behind you with a little grin.

"Don’t rush me," you huff, rolling your eyes.

and after a few more tries, you finally push the door open, stepping inside. Jungkook follows, setting you down gently on the couch. He places your heels neatly beside his boots, then walks straight into your kitchen like he owns the place.

You hear him rummaging through the cabinets. "Where do you keep your... uh, antiseptic? Disinfectant? Whatever it's called?"

You blink, watching him from the couch. "First-aid kit is under the sink."

He nods, grabbing it and walking back over to you, determined to take care of your foot before either of you can fully acknowledge the weight of the night.

———

"I can't believe it."

The tears come so suddenly, choking out of you in sharp little gasps, and even though there's already been so much crying today, this feels different—raw, desperate, like the reality is finally sinking in, finally sinking its claws into you.

"You're leaving today."

Jungkook exhales shakily, pressing his lips to your hair, his grip tightening around you. "I know," he murmurs, voice thick. "I'm sorry, I know."

But you don't stop. You can't stop.

"I can't believe it," you repeat, like saying it again will make it less real.

And then suddenly, it's like something inside you just snaps.

Your hands fist into his shirt, and before you can even process it, you're begging.

"Please, please, please—" You don't even know what you're asking for. You just need him. "Please, don't go."

Jungkook swears under his breath, voice cracking, and then he's shifting you—pulling you up, pressing you against him until you're completely draped over his body, legs folded around his waist, arms locked around his neck. He holds you like he's afraid to let go, like if he just holds tight enough, he won't have to.

He kisses your forehead first, slow and lingering.

Then your temple.

Then your cheek, your jaw, anywhere he can reach as he tries to soothe you, tries to lull you.

But you don't stop crying, don't stop pressing your face into his neck and sobbing, and the worst part ishe can't do anything.

There's nothing he can say.

Nothing that will fix this.

So he just holds you through it, rocking you slightly, letting you grip onto him like he's your only lifeline.

And then, after a long moment, he whispers, "I'll be back so fast, you won't even realize I was gone."

You sniff, lifting your head just slightly, eyes puffy, cheeks damp, and manage the softest, smallest smile through your tears.

"You better be."

Jungkook's breath catches, something breaking in his gaze, and then, he kisses you.

And it's not just any kiss. It's slow and deep, laced with everything you can't say. A long, long kiss, and then another. til neither of you can stop.

The warmth of his body is everywhere. his arms locked around you, his breath steady against your temple, your legs tangled in a way that makes it impossible to tell where you end and he begins. neither of you bothered to clean up, too exhausted, too drained, too desperate to let go of each other for even a second. he didn't even pull out, and you didn't want him to.

you fought so hard to stay awake, but sleep stole you both away in the end.

You fell asleep crying.

And so did he.

HARUKA’S video was perfect, in my opinion. His development during T1, T2 and T3 feel coherent and complex. To me, his and Amane’s case are the most nuanced and complicated of the bunch, and Haruka’s final report did not disappoint. They pulled no punches when explaining his heinous acts but it’s completely comprehensible (not necessarily justifiable) how he ended up in that situation. 10/10.

YUNO’s left me a little confused at the time, but I was still hopeful. Looking back, though, I’m a lot more critical of the choices made for her story. What we thought was a case meant to debate abortion was actually about a misscarriage. Yuno didn’t choose or plan to terminate her own pregnancy, she went to the top of an abandoned staircase, hopeless for what her future might hold, and (implicitly) wanted to end her own life but ended up falling by accident.

What crime is there to judge, exactly? The point of MILGRAM is to analyse situations of “murder” where the law wouldn’t be able to/would have a hard time dissecting, but what blame does Yuno have in this case? There was no intention on her part. Was her crime simply the thought of not wanting a teen pregnancy? 

I know she considers herself a murderer and maybe that’s why she’s in MILGRAM, but regardless of how one might feel about the subject of abortion, pregnancy and the like; it’s undeniable that this narrative choice makes Yuno INNOCENT (forgiveable) to the eyes of the great majority, robbing it of the nuance it could’ve had if it were more along the lines of a reckless pregnancy and a careless abortion (which, just to be clear, would still be super forgivable in my eyes, but at least there would be more to debate on).

FUUTA’S case is not bad, really. I mean, I think the whole "hat" plot point was very silly, and I guess that’s kinda the point? They wanted to show how such a large disaster came from such a tiny “mistake” and how Fuuta was so eager to call out misdeeds that he went even after the smallest offenses… still feels a little too silly to me though, almost illogical that so many people would band together behind his cause. I still have a hard time understanding what the whole deal about copyright even meant kjsahkjahskajas.

But that’s more of a nitpick than anything, because what really bothered me about Fuuta’s case was his Voice Drama and Q&A. The video shows someone who embraced the role of a “villain” instead of a “hero”, who’s so regretful of his actions that he clings to Amane’s religion without caring for what it means, only that it can save him (he holds a flag without any of its symbols), almost fanatic, in a way. His voice lines on the website also push that narrative. 

Then comes the Audio Drama and he’s… Weirdly lucid and aware of his mistakes. In the Q&A’s he’s changed and evolved… And that’s not really what his music video communicated? I know, the project is multi-media because it’s trying to tell such a complex story, but in previous trials I don’t remember having such conflicting representations of the same character depending on your source. The MV’s, in my opinion, should be the main source of information and how you form your opinion of the character, since it’s taken directly from their psyche.

Such a drastic difference makes me wonder if halfway through production they thought Fuuta would be considered too GUILTY (unforgiveable) and decided to make him more sympathetic after the video. It feels a little anticlimactic to me when they build up a certain image of a character based off of our choices and the way they’ve damaged them, and then suddenly make them “nicer” for the sake of giving them “closure” with Es. It's a little boring.

MUU’s case suffers from the same issues as Yuno and Fuuta, in my opinion. 

She wasn’t an active bully, didn’t order or influence anything on purpose. Everything just happened around her, without Muu’s input, because of her “aura”. Loss of agency, intention and action, so again, loss of nuance to Muu’s character (also, everyone suddenly turning on her because she was the one who got attacked is a bit unrealistic but I can normally let that slide, I’m just being nitpicky because I’m already unsatisfied with the rest of the story).

In her video she’s angry, unseeing of her own flaws, blaming Es and us for everything, including Haruka's death. In the Voice Drama, she starts out angry but kinda quickly we get a tearful, “emotional” moment of forgiveness between the two and… It feels forced and unearned, again, for the sake of an artificial, emotional closure. Both Muu and Fuuta feel like different versions of themselves between the MV’s and Interrogations. Conflict is intringuing, so getting rid of it so fast is a bit annoying.

Our voting feels meaningless when the resentment the characters have harbored towards us because of our choices is easily forgotten near the end. Our theories feel meaningless when the cases which were supposed to be nuanced end up being complex only because they’re logically contrived. 

SHIDOU, to me, has always been the most mysterious character when it comes to his crime, so I was really curious for his final report. Not to mention we didn’t know how Amane had managed to kill him, with the limited resources inside the prison. His death was a lot simpler than what I expected, but I still think it’s well-done, and I like his video. But the final report… The idea of a doctor purposefully failing a surgery to end the patient’s life is super interesting and nuanced. A death that was already on its way and was only allowed to happen due to inaction from one who could’ve prevented it is 100% the sort of stuff MILGRAM is made for.

The concept of a doctor struggling with the morality of “killing” patients for organ transplants after a loved one becomes brain-dead themselves and refusing to donate their organs, in a way possibling “killing” others who might need those organs, is also very interesting, nuanced, and very MILGRAM.

Now, were either of those concepts explored and properly expanded upon in the first two trials? I don't really think so. I know it’s been memed a lot but, really, THE TRUCK DRIVER??? That came absolutely out of nowhere!!

His case isn’t bad, it just wasn’t explored in the narrative in a satisfying way and maybe involved too many different angles to allow it to develop naturally. I feel like they should’ve just chosen one plot (truck driver or brain dead patients) and stuck with it, either a selfish revenge or a complex moral dilemma (not to mention how contrived and unrealistic it is for Shidou to be allowed to operate on the driver or his family, but whatever).

MAHIRU. Oh, Mahiru. This may be the case I’m most heated about because It’s the most recent, but I feel like Mahiru was the least well-handled character and case.

I’ll try not to linger too much on her death, but I did think it was kind of forced. I don’t really understand how her injuries would need Shidou constantly around to keep her alive, or how none of the other characters (Yuno, who was helping and learning with Shidou, or Kazui, who was a police officer with some semblance of first aid knowledge) couldn’t have stepped up in his place, it feels like an artificial conflict and artificial consequence for our voting, but I digress. Once again, this is a nitpick.

Her final report suffers from the same issue as Shidou and maybe a little of Yuno’s. A plot point that was never hinted towards, an unrealistic set-up, and loss of nuance. 

The arranged marriage plot is confusing, it’s never mentionedd before, and, I might be wrong due to my limited knowledge about japanese society, but again, feels a little out of place in such a modern setting. This idea alone wouldn’t be so odd to me if it also didn’t lead towards the strangest choice I’ve ever seen in all prisoner reports so far. 

WHY did Mahiru and her boyfriend flee to the MOUNTAINS in the FOREST of all places??? It’s so, so silly… I know it has been memed to death, but the rats were literal…? The forest was literal…? I know they still represent the central theme of codependency disguised as a sweet fantasy, but I just can’t take it seriously when the setting is so fantastical and far-fetched compared to all the other cases.

The idea of a person who has psychological issues and/or a distorted world-view due to their upbringing, leading them to harm others in their delusion/naivety/self-centeredness is a super nuanced idea (it’s also the basis for Amane’s, Muu’s and Haruka’s cases). The themes of oppressive, manipulative love inside a toxic relationship is also a concept that fits perfectly inside MILGRAM, and the debate around how much “blame” someone has if they push someone towards suicide, intentionally or not, is also a great basis for discussion around a character (the basis for Fuuta’s and Kazui’s cases).

But these super relevant topics and meaningful discussions, to me, get completely overshadowed by how absurd the setting is. Her situation is so out there and involves so many hyper-specific aspects that it's hard judge and analyse it properly. Where I think Fuuta's is the most relatable and probable situation for one to end up in, Mahiru's is the oposite. --------