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chapter01하루만
Jungkook didn't even hesitate. Nothing made sense anymore, not without Yoongi, who had committed suicide and taken every reason to breathe along with him.
The school hallways, the music room, the piano his hyung used to play: all of it was daily torture. At home there was no one. His friends had drifted. Hoseok tried to keep them together but even the most cheerful one succumbed to sadness. Jin-hyung had disappeared.
"Now, indeed, now I may be free."
He climbed to the top. He jumped. And he fell.
Or so he thought, because Jungkook opened his eyes, and he wasn't dead.
He was in a hospital. Wires everywhere. And Yoongi, alive, sitting beside him.
chapter02하루만
It wasn't the same Yoongi. This one had black hair, not white. This one lived in a world where the seven of them were idols of an international music band called BTS. And this Jungkook, the one who actually belonged here, had nearly died in a car accident caused by paparazzi.
Jungkook didn't leave Yoongi's side for a second. He asked strange questions. He cried in his sleep screaming his name. Yoongi watched him without understanding, worried.
"You're having nightmares about me? Like I'm in danger?"
This wasn't his Yoongi. But he was there. Alive and real, stroking his hair in the dark of a studio when he woke up with his heart in pieces.
chapter03하루만
Seokjin knew. This Jin, a reincarnation of the Jin from his world, someone who had lived and died alongside them countless times trying to save them, had known from the beginning.
"You don't belong in this world."
Jungkook denied it. Lied. Ran. Until he couldn't anymore.
"What do you want me to do? I didn't ask to be here. I only wanted to be with him."
Jin explained the theory: the two Jungkooks had exchanged universes. The BTS one was thrown into the HYYH world, to a time before Yoongi died. This Jungkook, the HYYH one, ended up here.
Jin promised to bring the real maknae back. Jungkook promised to stay quiet.
Neither kept their word.
chapter04하루만
He confessed. Of course he did, Jungkook never learned to stay silent when he loved someone. This Yoongi rejected him with a ridiculous theory about idol celibacy, about confusion and youth.
Then Jungkook did something unforgivable. Something he'd learned in his original world as a form of love, but here it was something else entirely.
Taehyung walked in. Yoongi cried. And Jungkook stared at his own hands like he didn't recognize them.
"Hyung, no matter if you're the original Yoongi or another version, I always end up loving you. And you always end up pushing me away."
Seokjin hit him. Told him he was a stranger, that the real Jungkookie would never have done something like that.
And he was right. And that hurt more than the punch.
chapter05하루만
There was a knife. Jimin arrived in time. Then, at the airport, a sasaeng aimed at Yoongi, and Jungkook stepped in front. Of course he did.
· · ·
And then: spring. Flowers. A piano melody.
He opened his eyes. Their secret place. Cold floor. The sound of familiar keys.
"You finally woke up, you slept like a pig."
His Yoongi. Young. With the lighter necklace. Brown hair. Alive.
"Yoongi. Yoongi. Oh, Yoongi..."
Jungkook threw himself at him. Yoongi smiled, a genuine smile, something he had almost never seen. He leaned in and kissed him, slow and soft. Tender, not desperate.
Jungkook rested his head on his hyung's shoulder. The piano kept playing.
If this was a dream, he didn't want to wake up.
하루만
The piano is still playing.
Jungkook rested his head on Yoongi's shoulder.
Outside, the world kept going, unaware of what was real.
Was it?
touch an object from the story, it will lead you to your ending
the sakura blossoms
Ending I · Dream
It was all a dream.
And Yoongi never left.
None of it was real.
Yoongi never committed suicide. The motel room, the flames, the white hair and the goodbye that was never said out loud, none of it happened. It was a nightmare Jungkook had fallen into somewhere between one breath and the next, curled up on the floor of their secret place with a backpack as a pillow and his hyung's piano as a lullaby.
He woke up to Yoongi's voice.
"You finally woke up, you slept like a pig."
And Yoongi was there, lighter necklace, brown hair, the same face that had never disappeared, because he had never been gone. Alive. Whole. Sitting at the piano like nothing in the world had ever been wrong.
Jungkook didn't explain. He just threw himself at him, and Yoongi let him, a little confused, a little warm. The way he always was when Jungkook needed him without saying why.
It had only been a dream. A cruel, exhausting, heartbreaking dream.
And Yoongi was here. He had always been here.
He held on and didn't let go.
This time, he wouldn't.
to explore a different ending, scroll up and tap the image you chose again to close it, then select another object.
the piano
Ending II · Open
He didn't want to know.
And that was okay.
Jungkook rested his head on Yoongi's shoulder and the latter went back to playing the piano. It was a beautiful melody, as beautiful as what he was feeling at that time.
He didn't try to make sense of it anymore. Not the hospital, not the BTS world, not Jin's theory about reincarnations and parallel lives, not the bullet at the airport, not the secret place that smelled like spring when it should have been autumn. He let all of it exist at once, unanswered, and found that it didn't crush him the way he thought it would.
Yoongi was here. The piano was playing. The floor was cold and his back ached and somewhere outside birds were making noise.
Real things. Small things.
If this was a dream, he didn't want to wake up.
Whether it was a dream or not: that was up to him.
He chose not to decide.
to explore a different ending, scroll up and tap the image you chose again to close it, then select another object.
the lighter
Ending III · Reality
He woke up.
And Yoongi was gone.
The secret place was empty.
No piano. No spring smell. No brown hair or lighter necklace or that voice that called him a pig for sleeping too long. Just the same grey walls and the same cold floor and the weight of knowing, again, what he had always known: Yoongi was dead. Had been dead. The flames of a cheap motel room had taken him, and nothing, not a parallel world or a car accident or a bullet meant for someone else, had changed that.
Jungkook tried. Of course he did. He always tried.
The building was tall enough. The knife was sharp enough. The pills were enough. But every time, without exception, he woke up, not in the place he wanted, not wherever Yoongi was, but here. In this world without him. In the hallways that smelled like cigarettes that were no longer being smoked. In the music room where the piano sat untouched.
The universe wouldn't let him follow.
And that was the cruelest thing it had ever done to him.
He picked up the lighter from the floor.
It was cold. It had always been cold without him.
to explore a different ending, scroll up and tap the image you chose again to close it, then select another object.