Work Text:
The world was a dumb place.
Most people believed in the smiles they saw. Of their families and neighbours. Of their acquaintances and strangers. Of the dead and the alive. Of the Government.
How could they trust those curves conscripted by law? The laws of the self-declared utopian country Lucernia required everyone to smile all day long. Disobedience had consequences. So, like everywhere in the country, the small town of Solum had mostly obedient citizens.
And hence, dumb.
No rules had made genuine emotions and kindness compulsory. It was only the smiles, suggesting public contentment, which had proved to be of a veritable value as an illusion for the ignorant. And so, they gained a space in the Constitution.
The aware recognised a smile for what it was. That's why when pretty Mrs. Fudley walked over to him chirping a greeting, the teen was clever enough to not believe her because there was a sneer sketched on her face. The woman knew her face was hidden from all eyes - human or not.
"Oh hello Jungkook, it's a pleasant day, isn't it?" bowling over his pleasantries with an eye on her faux-gold wristwatch she hurried, "Be a darling and wrap me today's paper for 15 minutes more. Thanks!". After she picked up the roll of newspaper, Mrs. Fudley's fuscia skirt flew behind her, the three notes she threw towards him slowly making a descent on the newly painted footpath.
Sighing at the irritating, irresponsible hurricane, Jungkook ticked Fudley off in his register. Someone would bring the newspaper back since it was rented.
"Oblivion is the sole path to bliss" was the Government's logic and motto, so information technology and communication services were pretty much non-existent for the personal use of the masses, except for the Elite, some of whom personally sponsored such enterprises. Illegal printing presses still oiled their cogs, pumping out exclusive newspapers for the Elite and Jungkook and Hoseok, his elder brother, had somehow gotten their hands on the supply. The so-called obedient people of Solum indulged themselves in this vice of knowledge everyday by renting the limited stock for two hours.
This is how the outcast poor children of a dead petty theif survived.
Mr. Brown, the owner of the convenience store near his stall observed the happening through the glass door, not wanting to come in the path of the hurricane himself.
Ms. Black was a pretty lady who showed the most kindness to the brothers in this town, along with her wife. Stopping in front of the stall, she asked for the day's paper and gave four notes in return. She left quietly. Jungkook smiled, away from the cameras.
____
Rounding up all the papers, Jungkook code-locked the stall and walked off into the setting sun. A while later, the part timer from the convenience store joined him silently, slipping his palm into Jungkook's. As Jungkook leaned his head on the shoulder attached to the palm, the quiet reminded him of their initial days, of 6 years ago. No one knew the unknown, unspeaking child's name, so the recently orphaned siblings had christened him V. Weeks later, V spoke, hardly understandable through his tears in young Jungkook's arms, confessing his real name. Still, he kept his alias of V, joining an underground anti-Government organization. He'd helped them get the newspaper deal.
Passing by the Town Hall like everyday, both Jungkook and Taehyung slowed down, observing the numerous Government agenda posters stuck on the walls. The faces plastered on the cement were smiling down at Jungkook, almost as if laughing at his existence. To him, they all said one thing - trust us blindly, smile for us brightly and you will survive. Startled by the rumbling of the hover bus running above them, he remembered to keep walking and tugged Taehyung to do the same, with a final glance at the overcast sky.
As he walked towards their semi-basement, the 16-year-old felt his real self come alive. The bright flamboyant part of the town was left behind for their gloomy, modest one. The crevices of the unrepaired footpath were his playground. This area was his home.
He went inside his building and V vanished in the shadows, not before pecking Jungkook's cheeks qucikly. Smiling fondly at the retreating back, Jungkook placed himself in the queue to scan his eyes behind an old woman. He saw the other Ms. Black coming out of his building. They smiled at each other a bit truer, a bit softer, than they smiled at most of the others in the town.
Truly relaxing after entering his childhood room, Jungkook sat on their bed, which doubled up as their sofa too. Memories of their past flashed before his eyes. Finally he could cry today. He missed them.
Mr. & Mrs. Floyd had adopted and raised two children on their meagre salaries. The beautiful rosy children didn't ask for much because they knew. The kids were smart so the parents were afraid. For their future and their life. Despite that, they played with the kids, taught them the alphabet and numbers. The day they were carried away by the police was the most terrified they had felt. Not for themselves, but their children. How were two orphans supposed to look after themselves? They had wiped the children's tears and apologized for stealing the bread.
No one saw them ever again.
Waking up to the trilling of his dad's old phone, Jungkook yawned and opened his jet black, doe-shaped eyes. Picking it up he drawled "Wass'p? "
On the other side, Hoseok was panicking. The 17-year-old's voice trembled when he answered.
"Kook, you gotta come down 'ere. Issa a problem for us... Shit we're so gone."
____
Running into the warehouse with his bomber jacket flying behind him, Jungkook screech-stopped before his brother. Their features were different yet same, nature differentiating the shape of their eyes, noses and lips; and nurture providing them the same tanned complexion paired with lanky limbs.
Breathing hardly with a bended back and hands on his knees, Jungkook asked, "What's it hyung? Why were you so keyed up?"
Hoseok just showed him the next day's newspaper, numb.
Carefully reading the headline, Jungkook thought for a while. Seemingly coming to a conclusion, his clouded expression cleared into a smile and he declared in his still sleepy drawl, "Nah, dontchyou worry at all, Solum's got us. The folks are now used to being up in the sky, holding a newspaper everyday. Feelin' good about yourself is a drug too, y'know? We'll survive."
Keeping the paper down he jokingly climbed on his taller brother's back to reassure him. He knew his hyung was too cautious, got scared easily. With a younger brother to care for who sprouted radically new ideas every other day in a society which allowed no diversity or idiosyncrasies, he understood why Hoseok felt he had to be the protector and provider at all times. But Jungkook was there, he could keep them safe in his own ways, and hopefully sane too.
The headlines had read "Govt. declares a program to get every orphan a warm family."
The aware would know it was the guilty Government's hurried first aid. Picking up orphans from the streets and forcing them on unwilling families until they hit eighteen. It would mean separation for the siblings and torture for almost all the orphans. Because who wanted to house a burden with a smile pasted on their face by law?