Holic
In the corner of the tea house, a wind chime keeps clanging. The sound is clear, and Seokjin looks at it in surprise. It is a rough little thing, the paint has chipped off in some places and exposing the natural gray colour of clay. But it sounds as beautiful as any other wind chimes out there, meticulously painted with neon colours and polished to perfection.
He sits down, his legs instinctively folding under him before he remembered he was meeting someone supposedly younger than him. He switched from kneeling to sitting cross-legged, then looks around. The tatami is warm and sturdy under him, but the colour has also faded. Perhaps from usage, perhaps intentionally made. Seokjin isn't sure anymore, because the theme of simplicity seems to be consistent. The shoji looked more gray than the normal brown, the finishing of the tea table doesn't shine. And the tea set is the most peculiar thing in the whole room - it only has two cups, incomplete and the tea has gone cold in the pot, the lid thrown carelessly near the edge of the table and ready to fall off.
Seokjin makes to put the lid back on.
- Thank you for making such a long trip, Seokjin-ssi.
He startles, dropping the lid, but a hand has caught it.
He looks up, and his fingers unconsciously curls into a fist. He has prepared for this moment, but seeing someone with the same face as the person he was looking for... it was frightening. Dizzying. His hearts squeezes a little.
- It doesn't feel very long. - Seokjin answered.
- Of course, Taehyung and Jimin are very efficient.
The man sits down opposite Seokjin, and Seokjin tries very hard to focus on anything but his face. The folds of his yukata, his meticulously trimmed nails, his delicate hand pouring tea. A cup is pushed near Seokjin, and he takes it without much thought. It's warm. Seokjin doesn't remember there being any hot water inside this room.
- I do hope you understand that this case is of importance to me as well. - the man pauses, takes a sip of the tea. He doesn't continue until Seokjin has looked him in the eyes. - Being... related to me has always been dangerous, and I take responsibility for his case.
- Namjoon wouldn't have gone missing if he doesn't look like you. - Seokjin slammed the cup down in frustration.
The man reaches out to him, the tips of his fingers lightly caressing Seokjin's knuckles. And an image flashes inside Seokjin's mind, of Namjoon, his Namjoon. The corner of Namjoon's lips is split, he has bruises all over his face. But he doesn't look scared. He looks... pissed, perhaps even a little bored.
- My assurance of his current condition is perhaps not much, but we will get him back soon.
The man raises Seokjin's hand up, placing his lips over Seokjin's knuckles.
And he's reminded of something Namjoon has said so long ago.
"In every universe, upon every moment, every version of you and me."
The mischief twinkling in Namjoon's eyes then has made Seokjin think it was only a cheesy pick up line. But perhaps...
- How do I call you? Because wizard-Namjoon doesn't feel very appropriate.
The man laughs, the sound so much like Namjoon that it makes Seokjin stares.
- It's RM.