Chapter Text
Seokjin often dreams with them; his six. He dreamt every night, in fact, but he was never clearly aware of who they were. No one ever does until they meet them for the first time.
He would sometimes be wandering lost in a forest of trees and he would faintly catch the voice of a young boy, as he laughed and sung with the voice as light as autumn leaves, harmonising with a voice as deep as navy blue. The wind picked up around him and the voices faded with it. Leaving him in the warm isolation of the snow-white bark that engulfed him.
Some other nights he dreamt of being lost in a maze of winding streets and alleyways, leading to some upbeat music lights flashing and gleaming, cheers from a long road he could never reach.
Sometimes he dreamt of dark shelves that lead him in one direction or another. Shelves lined with ancient books and candles, that made the angelic notes of a far away piano, echo through as the dark soothes him once more.
Seokjin often dreams with them; his six. He wonders, do they dream of him too?