When Shadows Fall | BTS Kim Namjoon

Chapter 25: Inconveniences

I kept walking down the hall toward my apartment as I responded to Namjoon's question. "Why, what's wrong with my bag?"

"Well, it's not your bag. I have yours, so you must have mine."

I leaned my head against the apartment door. Of course something like this would happen, when I was already tired from driving. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, very sure." I dropped the bag with a thump, and looked at it. Sure enough, there was no mesh pocket. I sighed, and almost whimpered. I was literally on the other side of the door from home, comfort, bed. I was about to say as much when I heard from the phone, "Oh stop pretending to be all innocent and shook, and put that down, Jungkook!"

"What?" I asked, and heard a sudden ruckus - doors, voices, stamping. "Did someone join you?"

"Hi guys. Just give me that, Kookie," Namjoon said quickly, and I heard faintly some voice saying "Brassiere" in a cute accent.

"Did I just hear what I thought I heard?" I said.

"No," Namjoon said stoutly.

"Uh-huh," I said. "So which one did this 'Kookie' person find?"

I could hear Namjoon getting flustered as the voices continued to pester him. "Can you please come trade bags?"

"I'm literally right outside my apartment," I groaned. "Can't this wait, Namjoon?"

Namjoon sighed as I heard laughing from his end of the line. "If it has to, I guess? I'm sure I could borrow a toothbrush from somebody, and stuff..."

"No, I'll come bring it," I said, feeling bad. "Don't worry about it."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Thank you, Chunhwa."

"You're welcome. See you soon, Namjoon." As I hung up, I looked at the door. If I went inside, I'd be too tempted to stay home. Resolutely turning my back, I retraced my steps down the hall, down the two flights of stairs, into the dingy subterranean parking garage, and to my car.

Throwing the bag in the back, I swung around to the front and inserted the key into the ignition and turned it. Nothing.

"I literally just drove you, you stupid hunk of metal!" I tried again, but the engine wouldn't even turn over. After a few more tries - and choice words - I got out and retrieved the bag, wincing at the weight.

Stupid car.

At least Korea had no lack of public transportation. I headed toward the nearest bus stop, the warm and humid scent of the summer night filling my nostrils. The sun had set, but the darkness was mottled with city lights, and I watched as my striding silhouette bounced about in different directions, thrown around by the surrounding streetlights.

Getting on the bus and paying my fare, I sat and tucked the bag under the seat, trying not to let my cheeks heat up. A duffel bag is not the strangest thing that has been carried onto a bus, I reminded myself. Nobody's judging you.

As the bus pulled away from the stop, I thought about Hajun taking the bus home. On that last day, had he gotten on the bus and been forced to get off at a stop far from his normal route, or had he not even made it as far as the bus? How in heaven's name had he even wound up across town, where he'd been found, anyways?