The Seven Passengers (BTSxTitanic)

Chapter 43: Hoseok

 I sit at the dining room table, drafting my letter to Jimin. The open window lets in the warm autumn sunlight and brings in the crisp breeze. Jimin has been writing to me ever since he found a job on a family owned farm. He says Ji-woo and I should come by to pick pumpkins soon. I think that would be fun.

After all, it had been twenty-nine months since the incident. We deserve to do something with a bit of normalcy to it.

Jimin has written to me about how the family has basically adopted him and how he has been saving up for a house just to the east. He says he likes the work, that being in the wheat fields gives his mind something to focus on. I tell him about Ji-woo's leg, and how her recovery from frostbite has left her with a limp, though she's pulling through nicely.

We have not discussed the events regarding that night on the Titanic, or even of the days before the sinking of the ship. I don't mind. There's no need to revisit the past that haunts us. Sometimes flashes of that night will appear in my nightmares, but I quiet them while occupying my time focusing on Ji-woo.

I glance at the clock. It's a quarter until Ji-woo gets out of school. I set the letter on the desk and leave to grab my coat and scarf. Outside, the temperature is warm and inviting. I prefer to walk more these days, it helps both my feet and mind to be grounded.

As I head toward the school, I come across a cemetery. It sits on a hill, away from sight. The gray graves are almost submerged with vibrant colors of the fall leaves, as if they are hiding away the sorrow and grief. Most of the graves are old with barely legible names scratched off by erosion and weather.

But there's one that stands out.

A single grave lies under a tall oak tree, put on a small platform where flowers lean over it, protecting it. Unlike the others, not a single leaf has invaded the grave's space. It makes me stop. I check my pocket watch and, against my usual punctualness, decide to take a detour.

The leaves crunch under my feet, and I draw to a stop in front of the grave. The sun has blanketed a curtain of light and warmth over me, and illuminates the writing on the stone.

Kim Taehyung

1887-1912

A beloved actor. We will never forget you.

I smile, even when tears slip past my cheeks. I wish I could have seen him become an actor as he wanted. I wish the world could have seen him. I wipe away the tears. 

To my right, I hear leaves crunching. I turn to see a man in a black trench coat, too grim to wear on a bright day. Then again, I'm the one at a cemetery.

I keep my head down, expecting them to pass me. They don't.

"Hello, old friend."

Jungkook offers a soft smile.

For months he has been a ghost, completely invisible to the public. As far as the rest of the world knew, he died along with the ship. As far as I know, I'm sure he wanted that. When Kim Nam-Jung returned to their estate, he gambled all his precious money away and was forced to evict. With the assumption that both his sons were gone, the old man was claimed dead not even three months later.

I'm silent. I feel if I try to say something, he will turn and run the other direction like a deer.

"Aster Johnsson is put away now," Jungkook says. His tone is even, unemotional. "He's charged with attempted first degree murder, possession of drugs, and willful poisoning."

I glance at him. His expression is unreadable. I stand still. "That's good."

"The money he stole over the years was given back to me." Jungkook places his hands in his pockets. His eyes stay on the grave. "I wish to split it between you and Jimin."

My chest tightens. I shake my head. "I cannot."

I watch his mouth twitch. "Why is that?"

Silently, I kneel down and dig in my shoe. Stuffed in my sock, I pull out a diamond necklace. The Hope Diamond sits on my hand, and I'm reminded of when Ji-woo gave me back the necklace. I had hoped to return it sooner, but I insisted on giving it back to Jungkook. Since then, I carried it with me, afraid to leave it alone for even a second in fear that it too would disappear.

"Sorry you have to accept this from a sock, but I kept it safe."

Jungkook cups his hands around the diamond. His eyes grow soft and a smile spreads across his face. Whatever kind of memories played back for him must have been pleasant. After a moment, he gently takes my wrist and sets the necklace back in my hand. "Keep it."

"But—"

He shrugs. "Consider it a gift. Ji-woo should be able to afford tuition to college now." Jungkook looks at the grave one more time. "I want to see it be put to good use, not on anyone else's neck."

"Thank you," I say in one breath.

Jungkook nods, then his eyes catch on people merging onto the sidewalk, cars becoming more loud as they put through the streets. "That's my cue to leave."

"He would have loved this," I say, gesturing to the flowers. Jungkook shows the tiniest of smiles.

"I try."

I glance down at my pocket watch. Ji-woo will be waiting for me soon. I should be leaving as well, but will I ever see Jungkook in person again? Until now, I thought he moved across the country, or perhaps died of a broken heart. But when I look at Taehyung's grave, I realize he wouldn't go that easily. Only Taehyung's grave has a garden. The most beautiful grave I've ever seen.

Jungkook turns to me. "I wish it didn't end like it did."

"Will you be around?"

He nods. "A library will be built in honor of my brother. I'm not sure it's what he would have wanted, but I'm sure Namjoon will be touched by the sentiment. Hopefully they're both doing well up there."

"I'm sure they are," I say. I pat him on the shoulder as we stare down at our feet. This feels peaceful, standing with him. Between the two of us, we've lost more souls than anyone should have. 

"I'd better be going," Jungkook says. He waves goodbye and disappears as quietly as he came.

I wave back and decide to keep walking. Ji-woo must be waiting for me already. I'll ask her if she wants to pick pumpkins tonight.

 I think that will be just fine.