The Solution || BTS {BOOK II} ✓

Yoongi: Before it all

Yoongi one-shot

--- Camp Echo: 2 years after the outbreak ---

Yoongi had a name for himself around these parts, a man who sided with no one. A man who could pull a gun faster than man could blink. The fearsome gunman with the heavy stride whose name passed through whispers as easy as any news spread from settlement to settlement. Camp Echo was no exception, located furthest from the city Yoongi found himself camping around the small settlement more often than not.

He strolled through the marketplace, dwellers either sending him dirty looks or scurrying away all together. Yoongi didn't seem to mind, lazily toying with the gold coin in his hand and stopping himself in front of the fresh fruit stand.

The man behind the stall seemed to freeze up, backing away in the slightest as fierce eyes locked with his own.

"Five apples please." Yoongi's voice was flat as he tossed the coin to the man, watching him fumble before bagging up said amount of apples.

It wasn't often Yoongi ventured into the village. He could only go so long without fresh fruit. Finding non-perishables was tough; looters passing through, store shelves swept clean, lurking infected serving as a deterrent.

Of course there were alternatives, although few.

Hunting came naturally after he found good use for his gun. Of course he refused to venture too far into the forest, but wild rabbits edging greenery and isolated streets was enough for a couple kills a week. Fruit however was a hassle, and occasionally Yoongi had to make the painful journey down the valley and into the nearest 'friendly' quarantine zone.

"Thanks." He mumbled, taking the paper bag from the man before turning on his heels and striding out of the marketplace.

He dug his hand into the bag and pulled out an apple, fingers hugging the skin as the expectation of sweetness energised his inner grin. He brought it to his lips and took a bite, humming in satisfaction as he munched away.

It was a rather peaceful moment, strolling through the village during the more quiet hours of the morning.

He wished it could last.

A small pebble was thrown through the air, bouncing off the side of Yoongi's head.

His mouth twitched and he stopped munching on his apple.

He willed himself to ignore them. It was too weak of a throw to hurt, but enough to be of annoyance. A fresh breeze passed by, kindly brushing against his cheeks as if to calm his rising anger. He drew in that sweet breath, steadying himself with the slow rise and fall of his chest. Then, he continued to walk, but hastily this time round as he turned his attention to the valley in the distance and the lonesome house atop the hill.

Until another pebble hit his head, landing right against his temple with greater force then the first.

He sucked in his cheeks, snapping his head in the direction of the scruffy man with a handful of pebbles.

Dear god why did they even bother...

"A man's tryin'a walk 'ere!" Yoongi called, grumbling as he took a harder, more intimidating bite of his apple.

It seemed a threatening glare was enough to send the man scuttering away, leaving Yoongi with his peace once more.

"Pathetic." Yoongi complained, travelling outside the settlement gates before tossing his apple core to the grass.

He made his way up through the valley, eyeing the border of the forest which followed his every step. Green foliage and new spring buds, sunlit and serene. The nature around him ran wild, the hills taking expansive breaths all around him, the wind always toying with his hair. There was no real danger in living outside the settlement walls, infected were rare this close to camp Echo, and any stragglers were caught in traps before they could knock at Yoongi's door.

He released a breath as he finally reached the top of the hill.

His little house greeted him.

Yoongi took one hand as he opened the rickety door, his fingertips gripping into the crevices. His eyes came to rest on the living space, chipped furniture and rotting wood.

The wind died, the leaves ceased to rustle, even the birds were absent. He stood at the door, and in those frozen seconds he felt the cold wash deep through his bones. Gnawing at the inside of his cheek he moved inside, shutting the door behind himself. He could hear the creak of wood, swinging himself around as he placed his bag of apples on the table.

He leaned back against the surface, fiddling with the wood that began to chip away. Again the silence was as loud as the static in his head, nothing making sense anymore, not even the trees. His life had been the same for years now, no direction or meaning, his little bubble of the world still the same but lacking the warmth it once held.

He ran a hand through his hair, feeling strands move away from his eyes.

The settlers were right, Yoongi was a walking mystery, a walking survivor of the plague that cursed them years ago. The small scars running through his left arm and the bloody stains on his fingertips a painful reminder of that day. Why was he still here? He willed the world to dissolved around him, just to melt away, yet he could still feel the rough surface of the wood beneath his hands and the gentle breeze that refused to reflect the howling pain that tore through his body.

Without warning he felt his insides become stiff, he turned to the bookshelf, eyes as hard as stone.

He was tired of feeling lost.

He couldn't wait another day.

Tying his hair, Yoongi ran his fingers over the books that lined the shelfs, dust stirring in the filtered light. He pulled a thick journal from the collection, turning back to place it on the table as he flicked through the pages. Illustrations of the forest fluttered past his eyes, each page turning in a flash before his eyes settled on just what he was looking for. Beneath his hands was a map of the roadways, leading all the way past the major camps to the city.

He was going to do anything for that thread of meaning, no matter how dangerous the journey, he wanted to arrive at that destination.

He brought another apple to his lips, taking a bite before taking his hands to the old wooden ladder and climbing into the attic.

Swirls of dust choked him, the man letting out a cough before crawling his way over to a pile of old tools. The room was too cluttered for him to not accidently knock over a few items, his hands eventually finding their grip on the handle of a gun. Gritting his teeth he pulled the weapon from the mess of junk, holding it to the dim light.

An old thing it was, a sad, sorry sight for any man.

The barrel was dull and chipped, the trigger no better covered in patches of rust. But it would have to do. Yoongi had not lost the knowledge nor the skill required in wielding his gun.

He climbed his way down the ladder, rummaging through the house until he found a torch and his old jacket, draping the fabric around his shoulders to shield him from the crisp air. He piled necessities into an old leather bag, the light growing richer outside the window as morning faded into late evening.

And he left, through that lonesome door, again in the hopes of finding something more.

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After 4 years I'm back to publish a small one-shot.

Recently I noticed I hit 1 million reads on 'The Survivors,' so I went back and read a little... to which I laughed and cringed.

I'm a grown adult now, compared to my dorky sixteen year old self who wrote this book a lifetime ago my writing has improved drastically. I had serious thoughts on re-writing the entire book, but I don't have the time, nor have I been in the fandom for years now.

However I still receive a lot of love for this book! I thought I may as well drop a short scene of my writing as now.

Hope you're all well x