Chapter Text
“Are you sure you wanna do this?” A worried Namjoon asks as Yoongi makes his way to grab the coffee that was just brewed for him. “I mean…yeah I get it. You want to make something of yourself, and you have to take risks to move ahead, yeah yeah I get it but-“
“Namjoon.” Yoongi cut him off as the two walked out of the little coffee shot, hands warm with the cups in their hands as the cold autumn air breezes past them, “You know that I have to do this. You know why I have to do this.”
A reassuring hand rests on his shoulder, “Yes, I do trust me I get it. But think about your job, your apartment. Hell, what about your dog Holly?”
The older boy immediately softened at his furry little pet’s name, but quickly shook his head before Namjoon continued, “Look I know you want to find the truth, but this is such a big risk. You know the truth anyway, the one you’re searching for that is. You can piece together enough evidence here from the news to put a decent story together.”
Sighing in frustration as they turned, the city corner not all that busy for a monday morning. “Namjoon I understand why your concerned. But an apartment means nothing to me, Holly can live with Seokjin for a while and if I don’t do this there will be no job. At least this way there’s a chance I could come back to one.”
After entering their company building, Namjoon tried walking a step faster than Yoongi, turning to try and get the boy to look at him, “Hyung, who cares about the job. What if you don’t come back?”
At this, Yoongi looks up at him, a bit surprised that that would even cross his mind, “And why wouldn’t I come back?”
Namjoon was about to say something when his phone began to ring, blaring some cypher song by a Korean band. Fitting, Yoongi thought. Pulling out his phone, a picture of Seokjin lit up the screen, his features even Yoongi would admit were handsome coloring the phone and bringing the faintest of smiles to the youngers face.
Before he answered he looked up towards Yoongi, fear in his eyes, “Hyung we’ll talk about this later.”
“There won’t be a later Namjoonie, I’m leaving tonight.” He spoke, entering his small office cubicle, “Don’t worry, I’ll accept your love letters while I’m over there.” He finished with a sly smirk and a wink for good measure.
Defeated and tired, Namjoon pointed a finger in Yoongi’s direction. “You don’t leave that airport without Seokjin and I seeing you off tonight, is that clear?” More of a statement than a question, nevertheless earning a simple yet grateful nod from the older before Namjoon answered the call, disappearing into his own cubicle of work space.
And wait for them, he did. He almost missed his flight too for it. Seokjin complained about how he had to use extra product in his hair because of the humidity, Namjoon apologizing profusely while almost breaking Yoongi’s bag he offered to carry. Twice.
But it was nice, the three of them together like this:
Namjoon. Who he had known since high school the only two kids in the whole school who found themselves stuck in the journalism club, as it was required to join a club and there was only one that happened to be open. But it worked out, because Namjoon could write and Yoongi had a camera, they would have never guessed that would lead them here. Namjoon especially as he looked upon Yoongi with wet eyes and a bittersweet smile.
Seokjin. Who had just joined their two man show a few years back, when him and Namjoon had declared themselves official he easily became apart of the package. It didn’t matter much to Yoongi though. He rather enjoyed the elders company, his warm presence and the food at his restaurant, well, Yoongi could easily say that he won’t miss much, but he’ll miss that.
And them. The two boys who practically raised him- shaped him- into who he was. Into someone who could take risks for their dreams, into someone who could fly.
They probably did their job too well, Yoongi thought, after sharing heartfelt goodbyes and promises that the three of them would be eating at Seokjin’s little café as soon as he gets back. Yeah, they definitely did their job too well, because now he’s flying away from them.
Flying towards the truth, his dream,
To war.
_
The first stop, a war base in Jeju island which Yoongi was content with. Yoongi stepped off the plane as he took in the scenery. Smelling the fresh gunpowder, the machineries oil, and the refreshing scent of dew after an early morning shower. Whipping out his camera he allowed himself a few breathes, a few clicks, not feeling the least bit of the danger he thought would consume him,
It was nice.
“Min Yoongi.” A strong voice came from behind him, “You are not authorized for photography here. The boat over there will take you to the train that will then take you to the U.S. Military base in Usag Daegu. Is that clear.”
Yoongi was taken aback by the mans forceful nature, only fueling a fire within Yoongi more, snapping him back to reality.
He was in a war zone. In the middle of chaos that would always do more harm than good.
“Yeah, well what if I do anyway. What’s a few pictures going to do? Blow your good guy cover?” He spoke with a downcast to his lips and brows knitted together.
“I will tell you one more time. You are to get on that damn boat or you’re getting back on that plane.” The man spoke through gritted teeth.
Yoongi didn’t know if it was the chilling look in the man’s eyes, or the blood that ran cold in his veins because of it, but with a hard look still trained on the man he made his way for the boat docked just a few feet away from the small plane runway.
The boat was a small little thing with just enough engine to move it forward, but it was enough to hold him and a few other soldiers that he guessed were going to the same base as himself. Sighing Yoongi couldn’t help but feel any more out of place, wearing a large black hoodie, a beanie on his head, ripped jeans and a camera in his hands surrounded by men in uniform with stern features.
None of them seemed to noticed though, when the boat started moving and Yoongi crouched down low, camera hanging just over the edge. The scene before him engulfed in his beloved camera, and Yoongi’s front row seat through it’s lens.
“Hey, sir what are you doing?” one of the soldiers asked, a younger girl who couldn’t have been anymore than twenty.
Yoongi shrugged, “Just looking at the photos I got on the plane.”
Which seemed to work well enough, her attention distracted with the sails direction now.
With the wind on their backs and the setting sun painting their sky’s canvas, nobody seemed to notice the clicks that Yoongi had been relentlessly cueing. Nobody had seemed to realize the concentrated look on his face as he watched the base fade out of view,
Or the pure black oil, that was spilling out from the bases edge, into the rich blues of the sea.
Click.
_
Finally, after a full night of traveling, the sun began its journey back into the sky. Feet stood firmly on the ground that people around him had labeled as Daegu. The U.S. Military Usag Daegu Base sign floated above his head as he entered the base, which seemed more like a small town. Yoongi was surprised to find it much more lively than the last, and yet, much more calm.
Eyes growing wide as the base was filled with soldiers, all doing their own thing. Some were running, some helping move crates and boxes, some walking with urgency. It was a sight to see. A strange feeling started to gnaw its way at Yoongi’s stomach as he reached for his camera.
Putting it up to his eye he caught through the lens two soldiers running up to them, the rather quiet soldiers he’d traveled on the boat with quickly forming a line beside Yoongi and saluting to the man.
“Welcome.” The man who Yoongi had guessed was a higher rank than the other spoke in a rough voice, stern but not unkind.
He looked directly at Yoongi, “You must be the journalist. Sargent Park here will show you to your room.”
The boy next to the man, a shorter boy whose smile actually reached his eyes when he looked at Yoongi, gave a kind nod as he walked away, signaling the older to follow.
Yoongi was, well, surprised. Surprised that someone with such a kind smile could be found in such a heartless place. Surrounded by a harsh world there was this boy whose last name was Park, showing Yoongi to his quarters with a stride reminiscent of a model.
Opening one of the wooden doors near the end of the long hall the boy finally spoke in a kind voice, “Here you are sir, feel free to get settled in and explore the base. There’s a lot to see here and everyone’s friendly to some degree at least.” He finished with a chuckle to himself.
Yoongi smiled, sharing a nod of thanks as he stepped into the unfamiliar room and laying his large shoulder bag on one of the beds, noticing the practically untouched bed directly across from it, hoping to the heavens that he wouldn’t have a roommate.
“Well, let me know if you need anything, my names Jimin by the way.” The boy spoke, extending his hand out towards Yoongi, who wasn’t one for shaking military hands. However, the kind smile Jimin was shining at him caused Yoongi to bite his tongue and comply, offering a small upturn in his lips, “Yoongi.”
Satisfied, the younger started to walk out of the room, closing the door behind him when he froze, “Wait…Yoongi as in Min Yoongi? The Min Yoongi?” the boy asked with wide eyes looking back at the older.
“What’s it to you?” Yoongi spoke, slight agitation in his voice, ready to defend his own name.
“You're the…but you write…” Jimin stopped, shaking his head before looking back at the older, “Do you really write anti-war stories? Is that what you’re going to do here? Make us look bad and try to cut our funding?”
Yoongi just shrugged, agitation rising in his veins and only a twinge of guilt by the hurt look in the boy’s eyes, a boy who was part of the problem. “Someone’s gotta write the truth.”
Jimin looked like he was going to say something, to bark at the boy whose attention was now turned to the precious camera in his hands. But instead, he shook his head, hair grazing the top of his eye brows as he sighed, “Make yourself at home Min Yoongi, and try to understand.” Before closing the door, perhaps with more force than necessary, but not enough to seem like a blow to the older male.
And Yoongi smirked, falling on his new bed that was harder than his beloved bed at home. “There’s nothing more to understand though, Mr. Park Jimin.”
_
Click.
A photo of two shirtless men spraying each other with water.
Click.
A photo of a girl on break reading an old beat up letter.
Click.
A photo of a group of soldiers smoking on their break, sharing each other’s smiles and laughter.
Yoongi sighed, looking through the photos he’d gathered around the base, not necessarily the truth that he’s searching to prove.
He knew it was all for show. He knew that these people were killers, and what was hiding behind their smiles was anything but innocent. A fear of failing had Yoongi on his feet again. It was only the first day and he’d already explored every square inch of the base.
Which meant now, he needed to go outside of it. He needed to get dirty and get the real story, what any smart journalist would do.
To Yoongi’s surprise sneaking out of the base wasn’t as difficult as he thought it would be, but of course he’d had to get creative. A line of military trucks rearing up their engines began to make their way for the exit as Yoongi discreetly jumped in the back, hiding himself from view of the guards as he held his breath.
It wasn’t until he saw the Usag Daegu base sign that floated above them fade out of view that he allowed himself to relax, breathing in regularly he looked around the vehicle he so willingly jumped into.
Crates. Lots of them everywhere, and Yoongi feared the worst, his mind immediately traveling down the darkest paths. His thoughts filled the crates with guns, bombs, poisons gasses., everything that he stood against. With a shaky hand and even shakier breath he lifted the camera around his neck, click.
Rather quickly, the truck stopped, and fear gripped Yoongi’s heart as he peered out of the trucks back walls, noticing a village.
Without wasting another second Yoongi quickly jumped out of the truck, and began making his way through the small village, quickly traveling a ways from the military trucks. Finally, when he out of sight from the military and surrounded by strange houses that seemed more like run down cottages, he allowed himself to breathe.
The smell of smoke and dirt filled the air as Yoongi began taking photos, taking his time through the village. His heart ached for the people. It looked like millions of bombs had come crashing down on their town with the leaves covering gigantic holes in their houses, the sense of community and the smiles he’d received despite him looking like a millionaire in their town. It was their way of holding up, of allowing their flowers to grow and bloom after a stampede of trampling raged across their way of living.
Yoongi’s hatred for war only grew when he saw a little girl, eyes wide with hope as she asked for him to help her grandma. And who was Yoongi to deny this little girl who couldn’t have been anymore than 5 and all too skinny for her age, so he followed her. Her little hand wrapped entirely around his pinky as she lead him down a short dirt road leading to a street filled with people hauling bags of rice. Bags too small to feed all these people, Yoongi thought.
The little girl stopped in front of an older woman, pale as can be, holding a bag of rice with all her might; she looked like she was about to collapse until Yoongi rushed forward, grabbing the bag out of her hands. “Ahjumma, are you alright?” concern laced his tone.
However, he let out a relieved sigh as she answered with a grateful smile. Through heavy breathes she spoke, looking down at the little girl. “Ji Eun you did very well.” Then returning her gaze to Yoongi she continued, “Young man could you carry that, and are you from around here? Your Korean sounds native.”
A bloom of pride sparkled across Yoongi’s chest as the three of them began walking. “I was born here actually, until I was about four and my parents moved to America. We still spoke it at home though.”
“Are you a military man?” Ji Eun asked, her little voice a high pitch that seemed to sing a song by Yoongi’s side.
“No. Definitely not. I’m not a bad guy, I’m a good guy.” Yoongi spoke looking down at the little girl who’s little hand was now clutching to Yoongi’s loose jeans, looking up at him with confused eyes.
But her attention was quickly distracted by the camera that hung around Yoongi’s neck. “Sir! Sir! What’s that!?”
The boy could only smile at her enthusiasm, “It’s a camera, a very special one. You look through the camera’s eyes, press a button, and boom. It freezes time.”
A magical sense of bewilderment would be an understatement of what was contained in the little girl’s eyes.
“Ji Eun don’t ask too many questions. Here we are sir.” The older lady spoke, motioning towards the house that was more of an extremely run down shack at best. Yoongi’s heart broke a little more with every breath as they made their way in the small house, seemingly falling apart as Yoongi placed the bag of rice on the ground.
That’s when the realization hit him, the things his thoughts had filled those crates in the military truck with came crashing down on him like a wildfire racing for everything in its path.
“Wait, you two-you two have to get out of here it’s not safe, the military, they have crates of the things they brought, hundreds of them we have to go. Come on-” Yoongi spoke frantically, beads of sweat forming on his brow as he picked up Ji Eun and motioned for the door.
But to Yoongi’s surprise, they just laughed. Both in unison as if Yoongi was the funniest guy in town, which didn’t help Yoongi’s sense of urgency; didn’t help his heart that had crashed through the floor at the realization.
“Sir please, calm down.” The older lady spoke, wiping away stray tears from her eyes from laughing so hard, “You do know those are our rations right? Those crates are what’s keeping this village alive.”
Yoongi’s eyes grew wide, not completely understanding, “W-what…?”
Causing Ji Eun in his arms to have herself another fit of laughter, before patting Yoongi’s hair, “You silly camera boy!”
At that, Yoongi smiled a little, shocked still, but his heart was back in his chest, back in the moment, safe. They were all safe.
He watched as the older lady went to what he would guess was the kitchen, “We don’t have much sir but could I make you a cup of tea as thanks?” A smile rested on Yoongi’s features as he watched Ji Eun frolic around the small space, more energy than he’d ever seen in a child pouring out of her excited eyes.
“That won’t be necessary, but thank you. Actually, is there anything I could do to help here?”
And that’s how Yoongi ended up on the roof. It was probably not the safest place to be, but that was another matter. After fixing a few of the holes in the roof as best as he could, he laid on his back, feeling the sun begin to take its course down to end the day, taking a deep breath as his pale skin soaked up the last of the sun’s rays before he heard
A laugh.
It was full, light and beautiful, one that sang in harmony with the setting sun. Yoongi quickly sat up, his camera raised as he searched for it’s owner. He knew full well a photograph couldn’t capture the life of laughter, but it could capture the owner.
Searching below through the semi busy street, a hundred and one noises filtering through the air until he spots it. A group of children somewhere between three and nine in age dancing around with a boy, who seemed about Yoongi’s age. His back was turned to Yoongi but he knew. Something was pulling him towards the melodic laugh, singing together with the giggles and smiles of children as they all danced on the dirt street.
That’s when Ji Eun went rushing out of the house under Yoongi, beelining straight towards the group before jump tackling the older boy, the excitement in her eyes growing more by the second.
And that’s when it happened, when he turned around.
When a gentle pair of crescent moon eyes met his own through the lens of a camera, Yoongi could feel his heart stop, his breathing hitch when soft brown bangs framed deep brown eyes, when dimples so deep he could swim in them were carved into the boy’s cheeks. His laugher singing and filling Yoongi’s chest with a dance, and a smile.
A beautiful, heart-shaped smile beamed right towards Yoongi.
Click.