95: Our Real Selves

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"Let's go by whichever one is closest," Namjoon decides. He looks up to the nearest shelves. "In the plan we see it alphabetically but in format it actually starts from the back with Z then Y and so on. That means the first one will be..."

"Me," Jimin says proudly. "Park Jimin."

"Park Jimin, Min Yoongi and then the Kims," you announce, connecting the first few dots quickly.

"We'll go find Jimin's first," Namjoon suggests. "If we find his we'll get a hang of what it looks like and how to find them. Then we can split up and look for our own."

"How can ee be sure we are even among these shelves," Yoongi sighs, not very content with the idea. "For all we know we could all come from different countries. There's seriously a low chance that we're going to find anything about us here."

"It can't hurt to try," Hoseok shoves him forward as if to transfer hope. Him and Taehyung had come running as soon as they'd heard the news and the buzz for excitement in finding out your identities was swarming through the group despite the odds. "It's probably not even going to change anything. It's not like we can identify with those people or go back to being them. The old us...they're people we don't even remember anymore."

"I can't believe the government keeps places like this," Yoongi grumbles. "Isn't it an abuse of privacy? I don't want them to know everything about me."

"It's for you to know about yourself," Namjoon explains. "It's not like they're necessarily hiding it from us. It would be locked down in a safe somewhere then. But it's important to have an identity. That's how the society works these days."

"Governments do all sorts of creepy things," you sympathize with Yoongi, since no one seemed to be taking his side. "And we don't even know about it."

"P...P...P," Taehyung mumbles, reading the shelves. "What number was it again?"

"131095," you say, reading it off the back of Jungkook's hand where he had offered to write it down on his knuckles like a tattoo.

"This door has all 13s," Hoseok announces, banging his fist on the door to emphasize. It's locked as expected and an people aisle is made for Namjoon to get up front. He grins at how what was once called his weakness now became his strength. Deciding to show off Namjoon sticks out his pinky finger, caressing the handle. As everyone oohs and aahs he flicks it forward suddenly. A slight cracking sound is heard. Taehyung and Jungkook peer close among the other admirers to watch a crack zig zag its way up the surface of the thick arched door. Halfway to the middle the door gives way and falls forward with utmost force, the loud crash of it's thud echoing eerily into the room.

Namjoon hyung is so cool, wow.

"Pfft," you cross you arms at his dramatic show. "Was that really necessary?"

Namjoon steps onto the fallen door heroically, shoving a hand into his pocket, shrugging his shoulders as a response. You can almost feel his smile through his back. At least he could remain humble somewhat, who knew what havoc the younger three would wreck with such a power. No wonder they were given something safer.

Yeah, I'm stuck with you.

You look at him but he's pretending to read the shelves, avoiding real contact.

I feel the same way. You sigh inwardly, so he could hear it. Even just solo telepathy would have been better. Instead I hear only you.  Why does it have to be the two of us?

Maybe there's something special between us.

Before you can even retort, your ears pick up a voice. You turn to pick out the voice in the darkness. You'd walked with only the simple torches to lead the way, yet despite the dark you weren't afraid. As long as you had the seven around you.

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