Edinburgh, United kingdom

The rain fell quietly over the quiet city of Edinburgh blurring the edges of the world like a fading memory, Seokjin stood by the tall window of his grandfather's study,  dressed in a sleek black ensemble. A tailored black shirt tucked neatly into slim trousers, the fabric soft yet sharp, mirroring the restraint in his heart. His polished black shoes rested lightly on the pattered rug, completing the somber elegance he wore like armor.

He watched droplets race each other down the glass. Each one carried a fragment of the past,  moments he couldn't quite hold onto anymore.

"pathetic..." Seokjin mumbled, the coldness of his tone could set the whole world back to ice age, in his palm, he traced the outline of a worn picture, its edges curled from years of being folded and unfolded.

It was a picture of two boys in college, smiling but eyes heavy with things left unsaid, Seokjin chuckle and sat down on the black leathered chair. It had been years since that smile, since the last time he saw the warmth behind those eyes.

Seokjin gritted his teeth and closed the photo, he leaned his back into the leather chair, the weight of his grandfather's recent death pressing down on him. The grandeur of his new life in Edinburgh  — the wealth, the prestigious degree earned with high honors, the impending role as heir to the family company, it felt hollow against the echo of a love lost and never fully grieved.

He wondered, not for the first time, if some wounds were meant to stay open, if some ghosts were meant to walk beside you, reminding you who you were and who you never be again.

And then, just like that...
He remembered, their happy days...

Years Ago, Seoul National University, Autumn.

The library was nearly empty that afternoon, quiet in the way most students craved during exam season. But for Seokjin, it was a battlefield; him and his review materials versus an army of deadlines, mental exhaustion and professors who likes to fail students. 

His fingers curled around a highlighter, frozen mid-sentence, as he squinted at a particularly dense paragraph about microeconomic theory. His eyes burned from lack of sleep, and the numbers on the page had started to blur into one another. Feeling frustrated, Seokjin lets out a  exhausted sigh and lean against the chair. "I can't concentrate...should I get coffee?" Seokjin mumbled, while rubbing his temples, he glanced at the table littered with empty coffee cups, he shakes his head in disagreement, "never mind, I might actually give myself a heart attack" Seokjin surrendered and went back to studying. 

He groaned quietly and leaned forward again, determined to push through, but just as he tried to read the text again, the sound of laughter snapped him out of his peace and focus.

Loud. Unapologetic. Unmistakably coming from the table directly in front of him.

"For fuck sakes...just when I was about to--fuck..."

A small group of students had claimed it like their personal cafe, books open but clearly forgotten, snacks unwrapped, and conversations far louder than necessary. 

And at the center of it all was him.

Seokjin knew him but was never close to him, seen him, walked passed him, and never a dull moment with that guy. Messy dark curls that were obviously dyed brown, piercings on his ears, laughter that could cracked through the library's peace like a dropped plate, and a deep voice that didn't quite know how to whisper, yes, that is Kim Taehyung.

"Dude, I'm telling you, that professor was this close to throw the chair at me!" Taehyung said with animated hands, flailing like he was on stage. "I mean, the class was so boring~ she should be glad that I made it interesting! by dancing!" Taehyung exclaimed along with his friends snorted in amusement, encouraging him, until he launched a loud and completely unnecessary impression of their professor's "death glare".

Seokjin blinked slowly, his patience evaporating by the second, and with one loud snort followed by bursts of laughter from their table, Seokjin had had enough. He stood up abruptly, shoving his notes into his bag with sharp, frustrated movements. Without a word, he made his way toward the exit, shoulders tense and jaw clenched.

But just before stepping out, he stopped.

Turned.

And walked right up to the noisy group.

They quieted as he approached, a strange hush falling like a curtain. Taehyung, mid-chew on a piece of gum, blinked up at him. The others looked caught, half-guilty and half-curious.

Seokjin didn't flinch. He gave them the coldest death glare imaginable, the kind that could freeze blood mid-pulse.

"Choose one," he said, voice low and icy. "Is this a library or a comedy club?"

No one dared respond at first.

Taehyung raised his hands slowly, mock surrender in his posture, though something unreadable flickered in his eyes. "Whoa," he said lightly. "Didn't know the library had a bouncer."

A few of his friends chuckled awkwardly, but Seokjin didn't even blink but instead replied bluntly.

"I didn't ask for a joke," he snapped.

Taehyung's smirk faltered just slightly. He straightened, voice softening. "You're right. Sorry. We were too loud."

The sincerity in his tone threw Seokjin off guard, although it was just for a second.

His eyes flicked toward Taehyung again, lingering longer than he intended. That face. Those eyes. There was something aggravating about how calm he seemed, like the chaos hadn't touched him at all.

And yet... something else stirred beneath the surface. Something quiet, curious, but Seokjin ignored those feelings and proceeded to head back home, still with an annoyed expression.

"Hmph," Seokjin muttered, turning on his heel. "Try studying instead of acting out your failed stand-up career."

As he made his way to the exit again, he could hear one of the friends whisper, "Damn, who lit a fire under him?"

But behind them, Taehyung watched Seokjin go, not laughing, not smirking , just staring, with a flicker of interest blooming behind his lazy posture.

And softly, almost to himself, he said,
"Who the hell was that?"

Jinwoo, lounging beside him with a half-eaten protein bar in one hand, scoffed and leaned in like he'd been waiting to be asked.

"That's Seokjin Kim," he said, a little too eagerly. "Top of his class. International Business major. Quiet as hell, but apparently a menace when it comes to fencing. Like, gold-medalist level. His name's on half the academic boards, the other half just keep trying to poach him."

Taehyung blinked, eyebrows lifting. "He fences?"

"Yeah," Jinwoo said, leaning back like he was delivering gossip over coffee. "He's basically perfect. Comes from money, too — big family business, something about shipping or finance or some rich-people crap. His grandfather's some kind of CEO or diplomat or whatever. I think he studied abroad before this? Japan or England? Who knows."

Taehyung tilted his head slightly, eyes still fixed on the door Seokjin had just walked out of.
"Didn't look like the rich type."

"That's 'cause he's not flashy. Doesn't talk much. Keeps to himself. But if you piss him off..." Jinwoo whistled low, "...you get that glare. You just got the full Special Edition, maybe next time if you piss him off again, he might challenge you to fencing match! ahaha!"

The group laughed lightly, and someone mimicked Seokjin's cutting words — "Is this a library or a comedy club?" — sending a ripple of chuckles around the table.

But Taehyung didn't join in this time.

He was still staring at the empty space by the library entrance, tapping his pen thoughtfully against his notebook. A smirk tugged at his lips, not the teasing kind, but one shaded with curiosity. Challenge. Maybe something else.

"Interesting," he murmured.

Jinwoo nudged him. "Don't even think about it."

"Think about what?"

"You know what." Jinwoo raised an eyebrow. "You're terrible at subtle."

Taehyung just leaned back, folding his arms behind his head as he finally looked away from the door and shrugged both his shoulder.

"I'm not thinking anything," he said with a grin that suggested otherwise. "I'm just saying, you shouldn't get too close with that guy, something different might happen ya know?..."

Jinwoo said and munched the whole protein bar, and Taehyung was still thinking of their small interaction.

At the entrance of the school gate, a sleek black Genesis G90 pulled up with a quiet hum. The tinted window rolled down just enough for the driver to nod respectfully.

Seokjin approached, his steps brisk, his expression still sharp with irritation. Without a word, he opened the back door and slid inside, the leather seats soft beneath him.

The driver, who had been preparing to greet him with his usual warm smile, caught sight of Seokjin's furrowed brows and tight jaw. He hesitated, then silently nodded and started the engine, knowing better than to ask.

The car eased out onto the road, the city blurring past the windows. But Seokjin wasn't looking.

He wasn't thinking about his economics exam anymore.

His mind had drifted, unwillingly, frustratingly to that one annoying boy with messy curls, a voice that didn't know silence, and the audacity to smile at him like they were old friends.

He let out a breath, sharp and quiet, gripping his pen tighter as if it might help chase the thought away.

Then, under his breath, barely audible over the engine's hum, he muttered.

"...Idiot."