1 I know this path is mine to take

Jungkook's a runner.

If there's one thing he's always been good at, it's running.

It's the one time he feels safe, the one time he feels free. Like the world is limitless and he's invincible; no one can touch him when he's moving.

Always needing to go faster, run further, as far as his legs can take him, until his lungs burn and his muscles ache-

Sometimes, he wishes that he could run forever. Run until he hits the ocean, until the cool crisp waves bite at his ankles, until he can truly disappear and escape everything.

The train slows and jerks to a halt, waking Jungkook from his dreams. He blinks, bleary, still tasting the salty ocean air on his tongue for another fleeting moment as he drifts into consciousness.

The thick, heavy city air of Seoul hits him as soon as he steps off the train. The smog of pollution hangs heavily in the air, filling up his lungs; but instead of it feeling suffocating like he'd expected, he feels like he can get lost in it.

Seoul is a place he can disappear.

He can't run forever, but here, maybe he can hide... at least for a while.

Jungkook digs around in his backpack for his face mask. He finds it easily, tucked in between the rest of his belongings - a few clean shirts, another sweater, a pair of sweats and some shorts. All of the money he could steal shoved in that pink bunny pencil case he'd been given as a joke in middle school from his best friend back home. A few other odds and ends, including his headphones, although it was too risky to bring his cell phone so he has no music to listen to. Jungkook left behind anything that could lead back to the person he was in Busan.

The ghosts of his past.

He takes a deep breath before securing his mask around his ears and pulling up the hood of his jacket, leaving behind the person that he used to be on that train.

The city of Seoul awaits.

Seoul is everything that Jungkook had expected yet also so, so much more.

It's bright lights and tall buildings, busy sidewalks and even busier intersections. It's polluted air and cigarettes and noise, so much noise; it's splashes of colour blended in with shades of black and gray. It makes him feel like he's moving in fast-forward, finally, instead of stuck on pause like he used to be.

Honestly, a part of Jungkook had been scared he wouldn't make it this far, so he really hadn't planned anything further than scraping together enough money for a train ticket and going.

So now that he's here… he doesn't really have anywhere to go.

The city is loud and busy and there are people everywhere. Jungkook has to side-step out of the way multiple times when he's just about run into by people too busy to pay him any mind. Everyone seems to be in their own little world, too - most people avoid eye contact with him and nobody greets him. Everybody seems to be rushing, with something to do and some place to be, except for Jungkook.

He doesn't have anybody here. Nobody waiting for him, nobody expecting him, nobody looking for him. That's the reason why he came and why he needed it so badly, but it's also scary.

What's he going to do? Where's he going to go?

He's got enough money to spend a few nights in a cheap motel, sure, but he's not blowing all of his money away like that. He needs to eat more than he needs a roof over his head. He can't just sleep on the street though, either - he's not stupid enough to think that's safe.

Maybe if he keeps walking, he'll find the answer, so that's what he does.

It's his only option at this point.

He keeps his head down mostly, wanting to shrink away into the crowd. With eyes wide open, he takes everything in as he sees it. Crowds of people, street vendors, tourists, locals, shops, police, animals - Seoul has it all, and Jungkook already feels enamoured by the city. He walks for what must be hours, stopping only when his stomach demands it with a loud, nearly painful growl. He checks the time on his watch (the only thing of value he has; a gift given to him by his grandfather back on his sixteenth birthday) to find that it's half past ten in the evening and he hasn't eaten since breakfast. No wonder his stomach is in knots.

The smell of street food is tempting but Jungkook opts for a convenience store where he knows that he can stretch his money. There seem to be so many to choose from that are open late, but he walks until he finds one that's a little more out of the way and less busy. The crowds are still making him feel a little uneasy; he's just not used to that many people.

As he approaches the entrance he passes by a couple of men smoking. He inhales the thick scent and damn he wishes that he could afford a smoke right now but he knows his money is limited and food takes priority.

The convenience store is too brightly lit and the smell of floor cleaner lingers. Jungkook looks around as he walks in, trying not to look too lost as he walks to the back of the store to see what they have to offer. He checks out some different items and prices, but ends up settling on some basic ramen. It's not exactly what he'd wished for for his first meal as a free person, but, well. Beggars can't be choosers.

Jungkook takes the package to the front of the store to pay. There's a guy at the counter who looks calmly focused on the paperback in his hands. He has pink hair shaved into an undercut, black growing back on the shaved parts, the pink overgrown and pushed up and out of his face. He wears a pair of thick-rimmed black glasses on his face and when he flips the page of his book his glasses slide down his nose. He seems too focused to bother pushing them back up and instead just wrinkles his nose in a futile attempt to get them back up where they belong.

God, Jungkook is really wishing that he'd gotten over this stupid anxiety thing by now. He knows he's not going to survive very long in Seoul if he still gets nervous talking to strangers, so he tries to force that feeling of nervousness back into the back of his brain.

Jungkook stops in front of the counter and puts down the instant ramen package. The employee doesn't seem to notice him right away, so he hesitates.

"Um," he says, "hi."

The employee looks up and after a few seconds, gives Jungkook a big dimpled smile and completely deflates all of his nervous energy. "Hey!"

Jungkook can't help but smile then as the employee rings up his order. This guy doesn't have the clean cut look of so many of the business people that Jungkook's seen so far - he's definitely got much more of an edge. An attitude. There's a bit of a tattoo peeking up from underneath the collar of his shirt and Jungkook's curiosity is piqued - there's no way he'd have ever been allowed to get one back home - and he wishes that he could see the rest to see what it is, but he can't make out what it is.

"That's all?" The cashier asks, looking up to meet Jungkook's eye.

"Yeah," he says, sliding his backpack off his back and fishing out his money. He pays cash, carefully counting out the bills in his backpack before handing them to the cashier.

Instant ramen isn't the most glorious of meals, but it's hot and flavourful and exactly what he needs. Jungkook sits himself down outside the convenience store and slurps up his ramen. He's hungrier than he thought and it disappears quickly, but it leaves a nice warmth in his stomach.

That propels him back to his feet as he starts walking again, trying to navigate the streets of Seoul.

The shops and restaurants are endless, stretching on for what feels like forever. Jungkook's sure that he could keep walking and he'd never truly find the end of them.

What he likes most, though, is the people.

Seoul is filled with more people than he could have ever imagined. Sitting at a park bench, he watches different kinds of people as they make their way through their lives.

There's so many of the business-types - lawyers and business people, those who dress up in fancy suits and carry briefcases, filled with money and secrets. The kind that Jungkook aches to take apart, to categorize and understand in ways that he knows would ruin them.

What intrigues Jungkook the most, though, are how many people that he sees that look like him. Aimless. Unsure of their path.

Lost boys.

He sees them with their bright, dyed hair, laughing with pinched smiles and crinkled noses. He sees them smoking cigarettes, and maybe something stronger too, sharing drags in between swigs of alcohol that burns their lips and warms their stomachs.

Jungkook sees himself in their tired eyes, in the pain rippling just beneath the surface. In the way their eyes are searching, always searching, almost unsure of what they're looking for, what they need. It's lonely, watching them, and knowing he has no one; yet at the same time, it's oddly comforting. He finds solace in knowing he's not the only one with that look in his eyes.

When the crowds start to give him a headache Jungkook dips off into a side street. The city bustle is never far away, but he finds the side streets to be intriguing as they're filled with graffiti. He knew Seoul was littered with graffiti before he came, but with all the people he hadn't really noticed it until now. He steps carefully down a quiet alley, eyes catching on a huge piece done of a whale. It looks shockingly realistic and Jungkook wishes he had a phone to take a picture of it right now. He continues walking, eyes carefully scanning the wall, taking in all the details that he can despite the darkness.

Jungkook doesn't realize that somebody's talking to him until there's a hand on his shoulder, pulling him back. He tenses, muscles freezing as he's shoved back against the cement wall.

"What the fuck? You deaf? I said, give me that watch, kid." Jungkook focuses in to see a guy holding him to the wall by one hand. He's got his hood up, and two other guys behind him - fuck, fuck- "And that backpack, too. Bet there's something good in there."

His watch? Jungkook glances down at his wrist nervously. This has to be some sick sort of joke. He knew mugging was a problem in the city, but... No, no, he can't, that's all he has left of his family-

"What's that?" The first guy asks again, stepping in closer. "Did you say something?" Shit, fuck, did Jungkook say that out loud?

"Hurry the fuck up, hyung, we don't have all night," one of the others speaks up, looking around nervously, clearly aware of the fact that they're just tucked away in an alley. People probably aren't too far away, if Jungkook could find his voice he could probably scream and someone would hear him, but his voice seems to be caught in his throat, scratchy and uncomfortable.

He's not weak, he's not, he's not, he can fight back, he can fucking take them-

"Don't you dare try to run, kid," the first guy yells angrily, "that watch is worth two hundred thousand won easy-"

The punch to Jungkook's face feels too familiar, too jarring, and Jungkook's blood runs cold. He needs to run, needs to fight back, needs to move, now-

"You talk big but that's it, huh?" A sneer in his face and Jungkook flinches, drawing back into himself. He wants to run, wants to hide but his body feels like ice and refuses to obey any of his commands.

"Oh, look at this! We have a pretty boy on our hands." Rough fingers yank down his hood and Jungkook trembles under their gazes. "We won't hurt you too bad. Just hand over your shit."

Jungkook clutches onto his bag tight enough for his knuckles to turn white. This is literally all he has, he didn't steal that money for it to get stolen from him. No, no, he wants to scream, yell, punch, kick - why the fuck can't he move?

"Hand it the fuck over!" Another one of the guys yells, clearly out of patience. He tries to kick Jungkook in the side, but he manages to fling himself out of the way. He doesn't get far and there's hands on his jacket, pulling him up and slamming him back against the wall. It hurts, pain shooting through his limbs white-hot but they don't stop - they can't stop.

A knee to his face and Jungkook keels over. He tastes blood, hot in his mouth, dripping down his face. His back hits the wall on the other side of the alley as he's thrown around and it hurts, it hurts, he wants it to be over but he can't let go and continues to hold on to his backpack life a lifeline; his only lifeline.

"You son a bitch-" The words are interrupted with a loud yell and Jungkook's vision feels blurry. The weight on his chest leaves as the guy who was holding him is yanked back roughly, leaving Jungkook free to slide down to the ground. He blinks, trying to focus but his vision is blurry, swimming with red. His forehead's bleeding something fierce and he tries to wipe away the blood but it continues to drip down his face, warm and unwelcome.

"You fuckers think you can get away with anything!" It's a new voice, and Jungkook can see that there's two people who have joined the fight. They're both wearing colourful patched jackets and that's all Jungkook can focus on, watching as they yell and scream and fight with the guys who were roughing him up. Even if it's three on one these two new guys seem more fierce, more full of life; they shake off the three who bolt down the alleyway, disappearing into the night.

Jungkook's vaguely aware of the two crouching in front of him talking to him, but he looks down and sees his shirt stained with blood and it makes his stomach roll. He starts to feel light-headed, groaning loudly when he tries to stand up.

"Woah, dude, hang on a sec, just- fuck," one of the boys says. He's still a bit fuzzy, but he has a pair of sunglasses perched on top of his head, despite the fact that it wasn't sunny at all today. "Hyung, can you text-"

"Yeah, I've got it," the other responds in a hurried voice. He pulls out his phone as the first boy touches Jungkook's shoulder. It's still a gentle touch but Jungkook can't help but flinch and pull away when he does it; his shoulder burns where they boy is touching him.

"Hey, it's okay, we're not gonna hurt you, alright?" He says. He slips off his backpack and starts fiddling around in it until he finds a headband. "I just - shit, your head is bleeding a lot," he mumbles, reaching up and tying the headband around Jungkook's head. It hurts, a lot, and he must whine or whimper or something because the guy looks back at him apologetically.

"Christ, be gentle Tae, will you?" The first boy - Tae, Jungkook's brain helpfully supplies - looks sheepish when the other guy knocks him on the shoulder. "Let's get him up, hyung's gonna meet us at home and he can look at him."

Jungkook really wants to resist and fight but he's tired and his head hurts; when he stands his legs feel weak and wobbly and his vision starts to blur.

The last thing he sees before he hits the ground is the whale graffiti art illuminated ominously under the harsh city lights, looking broken and damaged.

Just like him.

Jungkook's head throbs when he wakes up the next morning.

Or, rather, the middle of the night- it's still dark, he registers, when he blinks his eyes open and can't see much. He has a moment of panic when he realizes that he doesn't know where he is. He's on a couch, a soft blanket thrown across his body. He tries to move and push himself up, fear striking through his body.

What the hell happened last night? Thinking back makes his head hurt and all of his thoughts and memories are all jumbled and fuzzy around the edges.

He remembers the alley. The fight, those guys who wanted his stuff-

There's a moment of panic when Jungkook can't feel his watch on his wrist. He looks around worried before he spots it, on top of his backpack on the floor next to him.

Okay, breathe. What next?

The memory of that yell floods back to him. The weight lifted off his chest. The guys who helped him, and the more he thinks, he remembers those two boys helping him walk.

From then on it's fuzzier. His forehead stings, guilty. He lifts a hand up and touches it gingerly, and there's now a thick bandage there.

He remembers being pushed on a couch.

He remembers pain on his forehead, heavy enough to make him wince and cry; he remembers someone holding him tight, arms caged around him. Keeping him still. Keeping him safe.

Whispers in his ear, low and heavy, "it's okay. I got you, I got you, you're safe now."

Jungkook swallows thickly and lays his head back down on the pillow. His head is still throbbing and his limbs are heavy with exhaustion. He should get up and leave, he really should, but he's comfortable, and these guys… they helped him.

That should count for something, right?

Jungkook's eyes start to adjust a bit and he can make out some things in the room. Wherever he is, this house or apartment, it isn't very big. He can see the kitchen from where he's laying, a bit messy and small. There's a hallway stretching down behind Jungkook with a bunch of rooms with the doors closed, but it's not totally quiet. He can hear some music, softly; some voices. What sounds like some sort of game. Hushed warm, bright laughter.

He's not alone, and that thought comforts him more than expected.

The quiet background noise helps lull him into a dreamless sleep.

Jungkook wakes up some hours later. There's light peeking in from the large window near where he's laying, trying it's best to sneak in at the edge of the curtain. Jungkook's body still feels heavy and his forehead throbs, but it's not as bad as before. The pain has dulled some.

He can hear some moving around but he doesn't bother to open his eyes, wanting to listen a bit first. Two quiet voices whispering to each other, the clink of a mug as it hits a table.

"Should we wake him up?"

Footsteps move closer to the couch. The voice sounds vaguely familiar.

"No, let him rest. He didn't hit his head, he just lost a lot of blood."

The footsteps move away again. There's a soft sound like the dripping of water from a faucet.

"Coffee?"

"Yeah."

Spoons stirring and more pouring.

"You have time to eat?"

"No. I'm gonna be late." A pause. "But make sure the kid does, alright?"

"'Course."

Some more shuffling around, the fridge opening and then closing.

"Take the leftovers with you. In the red container."

"Doesn't Hobi need them? He's got dance today."

A hum. "No. He'll stop by the restaurant for lunch. Jimin, too. Tae is off today so he can fend for himself."

Another pause, then a sigh. "I just. We're stretched thin as it is, you know?"

"I know, Yoongi-"

"We really don't need… this."

Jungkook's stomach drops. He doesn't need to see to know he's talking about Jungkook. Maybe he really should have left.

But, the response comes so soft that it eases a bit of Jungkook's tension.

"You know that I know you, right?" A quiet chuckle. "We'll make it work. We always do. You know as well as I do that we'll do whatever needs to be done."

There's silence, then, but it's heavy. Tense.

"Hyung, did you see-?"

"Yeah." A soft sigh. "You better get going or you're gonna miss the bus."

A mug clanks in the sink and there's some running water. Some shuffling, sneakers on the worn hardwood floor. Soft goodbyes before the front door slams shut again.

Quiet falls around the apartment again, the only noises coming from the kitchen. Some more running water, the clank of pots and pans. It's calming, and Jungkook finds himself drifting back out of consciousness