ʟᴜᴘɪɴ│ᴛᴋ [complete]

.1. ɪɴ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ᴏᴜʀ sᴛᴏʀʏ ʙᴇɢɪɴs

The sound of a walking stick hitting the cold hard floor echoed through the hall where the boys had been gathered. They all held their breath and stuck out their small chests. Some were even trying not to blink. Mister Abbott had scolded them harshly for their misbehavior the last time someone visited and they did not want to go without dessert for a whole week (which was the punishment they had then gotten).

The unknown visitor chuckled before speaking. "I believe my coachman misunderstood my instructions. I asked him to take me to Collingwood Orphanage and here I find myself at Madame Tussaud's! Although I had no idea they had such an extensive collection of children's wax sculptures."

The superintendent cleared his throat. "Lord Arenes, forgive me but—what do you mean?"

"Why aren't these kids breathing?"

The man turned toward the boys and clapped his hands. "You heard our visitor! Go ahead and breathe!"

Around thirty chests simultaneously let out a loud sigh.

"That's a start," said the distinguished visitor.

"Would you like them to do anything else?"

"I came here to watch them do what kids do."

Mister Abbott was startled. What do kids do? Lord Arenes shook his head at the other's obtuseness. "I'm here to watch them play!"

Play? What a bizarre request for a visitor looking to adopt. They were usually searching for the most well-behaved little orphan. The man nonetheless thought it best to grant Lord Arenes' demand, as ludicrous as it was. "You heard our visitor! Go ahead and play!"

The boys glanced at each other. Had the adults gone mad? They were never allowed to play inside. Was this a trap? Should they listen or stay put? None of them knew what to do.

None except for one, in the back row. A gleeful smile crept on his lips while his eyes sparkled with excitement behind his overgrown brown fringe. He tilted his head toward his friend and uttered in a small voice while reaching for his arm, "tag, you're it!"

He then scurried away while they all exchanged panicked looks. The boy he had tagged smirked. He knew this game all too well. It always ended the same way. Without overthinking it, he began running after the boy who was trying to hide in the shadows of the staircase.

Lord Arenes let out a loud laugh, which further lightened the mood. "There you go, kids! That's how you play!"

He then shooed them away with his hands. "Now go on!"

Hilarity soon filled the usually very quiet hall of Collingwood Orphanage. Lord Arenes looked very pleased while Mister Abbott was wondering how he was ever going to get them to behave the next time someone visits.

After about thirty minutes of watching them run around, fight with each other and play various games, the man decided it was perhaps time to put an end to this mayhem. "My lord, have you made up your mind yet?"

"I have," he replied, eyes fixated on the boy who had initiated all this. Said boy was currently pinned to the floor between his friend's legs, trying to wiggle his way out with tickles. Surprisingly, it worked.

The orphanage's manager pulled out a whistle and had them all stand in row once again. Lord Arenes walked over the one he had chosen. "Hey son, what's your name?"

"Kim Taehyung."

"Taehyung. Nice to meet you."

The lad looked down. He had guessed what was coming and squeezed his friend's hand in his own.

"I bet you know all the best hideouts around here."

He nods.

"But your friend still manages to find you, doesn't he?"

Another nod.

"Taehyung, I have this huge mansion that needs exploring. I believe you could discover hundreds of hiding places."

The child didn't budge, eyes fixated on an invisible fleck on the ground.

"What is your friend's name?"

Taehyung looked up at the black-haired boy holding his hand. "Jeon Jungkook."

Lord Arenes leans toward his protégé in order to whisper in his ears. "I promise you'll see him again."

Shortly thereafter, Taehyung found himself in a very comfortable carriage, with emerald-green velvet seats and brass knobs. Not that he actually noticed, his eyes glistening with quiet tears.

"Taehyung."

He looked up, trying to wipe away the sadness he felt visible on his face. "Yes sir?"

"Everyone calls me Lord Arenes. But you can call me by my real name."

"What name — sir?"

"Arsène," he replied with a wink.

And just like that, two best friends were separated, and their destinies, sealed. Many years later, Taehyung wished he had then had the courage to ask his benefactor when in fact he would get to meet Jungkook again. Now that Arsène was gone, his question was left unanswered.

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