Jungkook stared at the numbers he had scribbled down in his diary, tapping his pen against the page like it held the answer to the universe's most pressing question:

72.26% sure Taehyung likes me.

92.89202% sure Taehyung isn't going to kill me.

Statistically speaking, these were decent odds.

Mentally speaking? Emotional storm.

He shut the diary, rubbed his temples, then reopened it—because, really, what were the odds that he had somehow rewritten the entire plot of this story? When had he stopped being the villain and accidentally become the love interest?

Jungkook exhaled. Okay. One problem at a time.

Since it seemed like Taehyung wasn't about to finish him off, he figured it was safe to let Hoseok know that the bakery plan could slow down. No more rushing, no more panic. Probably. Hopefully.

As for the whole excommunication plan... he chewed on his lip. It probably wasn't necessary anymore, but you could never be too careful. Because if there was one thing Jungkook had learned, it was this:

Just when you think you're safe—you're not.

Jungkook had barely finished processing his life-altering statistics when there was a knock at the door.

"Come in," he called, still staring at his diary like it might provide answers.

The door creaked open, and Yoongi strolled in with his usual lazy elegance. "Wassup, my G," he drawled.

Jungkook groaned. "Hyung, please." He had made the terrible mistake of teaching them modern-world phrases, and now they were abusing them. Just last week, Jimin had dramatically announced, "It's giving betrayal," when he lost a game of chess.

Yoongi flopped onto a chair like he had all the time in the world. Jungkook narrowed his eyes. Suspicious.

It had been a few weeks since the Great Bake-Off Fiasco, and after much internal screaming, Jungkook had finally confessed the whole truth to Yoongi and Jimin—how he wasn't actually their Jungkook, how he had transmigrated into a villain from a webtoon, and how, if things followed the original plot, he was going to die.

Jimin had gasped so loudly he nearly inhaled his own hair. "WHAT?"

Yoongi, however, had barely blinked. "Yeah, I knew it."

Jungkook and Jimin turned to him in unison. "WHAT???"

Yoongi stretched like this was the most obvious thing in the world. "Your whole personality changed overnight. You suddenly stopped being obsessed with the Emperor—who, by the way, you were madly in love with—and instead started acting like some determined underdog protagonist. It was suspicious."

Jungkook scowled. "So you just assumed I was a transmigrated soul?"

Yoongi scoffed. "Of course not. I'm not stupid."

Jungkook relaxed.

"I took a strand of your hair and had the sages examine it."

Jungkook unrelaxed. "YOU WHAT??"

Yoongi ignored him. "They did some... ancient analysis, and their conclusion was clear:

'This isn't the soul you once knew, this one's from a world brand new.'"

Jimin's mouth fell open. "That rhymed."

"They like to be dramatic," Yoongi said with a shrug. "Anyway, once they told me that, I figured I'd just wait for you to explain yourself. And now you have. So—" He waved a lazy hand. "Everything makes sense. No big deal."

Jungkook stared at him. Then at Jimin. Then back at Yoongi.

"No big—HYUNG, YOU HAD EVIDENCE THAT I WAS AN ENTIRELY DIFFERENT PERSON, AND YOU JUST SAT ON IT??"

Yoongi yawned. "Well, yeah. It's not like you were being evil about it."

Jungkook opened his mouth. Then closed it. Then opened it again. He had nothing. No words. No response. Just vibrating indignation.

Jimin patted his back. "There, there."

Yoongi leaned back in his chair, looking far too comfortable for someone who had just shattered Jungkook's entire sense of reality. "Anyway. Now that the truth is out, what's our next move? Are we still going to annul the engagement?"

Jungkook groaned and buried his face in his hands. He needed a nap. Maybe a coma.

But unfortunately, the universe didn't believe in mercy, because next thing he knew, Jimin was very interested in whatever color his ears were turning.

With great reluctance (and a lot of internal screaming), Jungkook mumbled out the latest development—the Emperor, for some unfathomable reason, seemed to be smitten with him. There had been... a kiss.

At this point, his entire face was on fire.

Aera, his tiny fox companion, made an excited string of baby fox noises from her spot on his pillow, clearly judging him.

Jimin gasped dramatically. "YOU KISSED THE EMPEROR?"

"HE KISSED ME," Jungkook corrected, pointing aggressively. "I AM THE VICTIM HERE."

Yoongi raised a skeptical brow. "Were you?"

Jungkook opened his mouth. Then closed it. Then opened it again.

Yoongi smirked. "That's what I thought."

Jungkook was going to pass away.

That was weeks ago.

Now, in the present, Yoongi pulled out a folded letter and tossed it onto the table. "You got mail. From the Emperor."

Jungkook froze.

Jimin, who was sitting in Jungkook's bed, curled up with Aera, snatched the letter before Jungkook could process the words "from the Emperor" and immediately shrieked. "IT'S AN INVITATION TO THE CELESTIAL ASCENSION AT THE IMPERIAL PALACE!"

Jungkook's soul left his body.

He hated those balls.

Yoongi stood up, dusted off his robes, and stretched. "Welp. Have fun with that."

And with that, he left.

Jungkook stared at the letter. Then at Jimin. Then at the ceiling. Then back at the letter.

Ugh.