— "make us
live on!"

DECEMBER 23:
JUNG HOSEOK

==

when hoseok walks into the investigation building, through the lobby, up the four flights of stairs, down the hall and past the tall cedar doors of the boss's office, forward to the glossy glass desk of the aforementioned himself—he does not carry gifts. he does not carry meticulously wrapped gift cards, tirelessly written and perfected reports of his internship (that, and he knows it, no one in the administration truly reads), or even a coffee cup he just so happened to fill on his way up here, the perfect blend of half and half he knows for a fact the boss loves so dearly. that isn't what he came here for. no intern in their right mind would stay at the agency on a stormy sunday evening, but hoseok has never really been one to conform.

hoseok carries no gifts. instead, he carries a stack of files, carefully organized and labeled, with a friend by his side.

namjoon clears his throat quietly when the stack is placed gently on the boss's desk, as if to reassure himself. "thank you for sparing the time to meet with us, sir," he begins. the boss looks up from his laptop screen to his employee and intern moments later. "i know—i know how hectic your schedule must be right now."

"i'm staying late tonight, anyway. what's this?"

there's a lapse of uncomfortable silence as hoseok struggles for what to say. all of the planning he had made the days before—waiting for his sandwich at the deli shop, in the shower, biking to jae's house for the weekly movie night—washes down the drain as hoseok's mind goes blank. he turns to stare at the bold letters written on the label.

what can he say? hoseok knows that without a doubt, the moment that first manila file is opened, it's a slim chance the boss will believe them, much less listen to the rest of what they have to see. their evidence is almost baseless in the eyes of non-witnesses, and complete blasphemy for realists. there's a scarce amount of information gathered by the society that someone like the agency's boss would believe, and even then, it's a longshot. hoseok knows this risk they're taking could very well backfire on both him and namjoon; and because he refused to let hoseok do this without him, the chance that namjoon might lose his job is all too heavy of a weight on hoseok's shoulders.

he's an optimist, but under the almost scrutinizing gaze of the boss (or is he just imagining it?), hoseok can't help but feel like he's already lost the battle.

he takes a deep breath, steadies his racing heart, and speaks.

"for the past few months or so, namjoon and i have been...investigating in a case separate of the detective agency. it began from the explosion of subway 301, and then as we got more involved, it began to tie to a lot of other...events: like the car crash that following week, and the collapse of that building in useol. and...we learned more than a few things."

hoseok opens the file at the top of the stack and carefully slides it to the boss, biting his lip anxiously. "what you'll find in here are our primary findings. i'm sure you'll want to shut this file the moment you see the first sentence, but please, read the whole thing, sir. i know it sounds ludicrous. believe me. if we were in your situation, we would think nothing else of it. but..." hoseok's voice quietens. "this may not mean much coming from someone like me, but all of this is true. every ounce of it."

once the last of hoseok's breath echoes through the lush office, the boss leans forward with a creak of his leather chair and takes the file in his hands. his eyes travel upwards to glance at hoseok and namjoon with an unreadable expression, then back down to the paper in his hands. then, he begins to read. hours seem to pass by, hoseok agonizingly trying to decipher every single minute shift of the boss's expression; until he gently places the file back onto the desk after fifteen or so minutes and sighs through his nose.

"who's your research team?"

namjoon can only blink beside hoseok. "huh?"

"your files, who conducted the research on them? who found this evidence? judging from this paper, you clearly have sources."

hoseok shrinks further into his windbreaker. "this is sensitive information, but...there's a group called the society. they—they're international, and their research is always fact checked by others in the organization, and it's been around for decades now. it's kept under the radar, mostly because people would dismiss it as psuedo-science, and—"

"hoseok, namjoon. i want you to hear me out on this."

they do.

"i'm guessing you showed this to me because you want to publicize your findings through the agency itself. right?"

neither of the men respond; they don't need to. the boss hit the nail dead on.

"i thought so. look, boys, it isn't a question of me believing you. even you said it yourself: these findings...these are hard to believe, put simply. any other news outlet could very well twist your evidence into some occult story, if it gets in their way. the people want closure. they want to see something and immediately understand the why's and what's of it, instead of an elaborate bundle of circumstantial or experimental evidence like this. right now, the majority of the population is content with viewing the subway explosion as a mechanical malfunction, even the evidence for that is near nil. and that's because it gives them closure.

"i know what being the minority opinion of a research case feels like," continues the boss. "i've had my fair share of horrible investigations. that's how i reached this status. so seeing that you had the guts to come up here with an enormous stack of files says more than enough. i believe you guys."

"y-you do?" hoseok's heart threatens to swell through his chest.

"unless you boys are lunatics in disguise, i can't disbelieve you. the evidence makes sense, and it ties a lot of loose ends together. but it doesn't matter that i believe you. it matters that the people do."

"we know," namjoon murmurs. "that's why we want to publicize this. it doesn't need to be across every single headline. just enough so people who are ready to know have access to it."

"and i understand that. but you also have to take into account this agency, too." the boss gestures absentmindedly around the office. "you both probably don't believe it, but this organization used to run on stilts, you know. battling bigger, more known agencies was a daunting task, until eventually we rose to their level. and being an executive officer means that i have to maintain that position, until we're stable enough to focus on other things. that means sacrificing valuable jobs for cross-positions with other companies to establish ties. addressing only the stories that will rake in the most money, no matter how immoral it is. and i'll be the first to admit that it's a task i hate to tackle, but there are powers higher than i hold in this crooked system.

"so bringing this story out of seemingly nowhere, weeks after the incidents occurred? it's likely that'll severely dent this agency's status. i know this seems like a matter of economics over morality, but it's actually quite the opposite. if we want to solve any meaningful cases, ever, then we have to have a detective agency in the first place."

"so our findings can't be published through this agency," namjoon summarizes in a monotone, though the waver in his voice hits hoseok like a bolt of lightning.

"one chain," blurts hoseok.

the boss turns to him. so does namjoon.

"let the society buy one news chain from the agency. it won't affect your status; it's probably so minuscule of a takeaway that this place will barely be affected by it. that way, the society operates away from the agency, your status is held, and we have the ability to publicize our information the way it should be, where it can get the most people to believe us as possible."

"hoseok?" namjoon whispers, just as the boss manages a, "what?"

"people have gotten hold of columns and chains before from even the biggest of companies. it isn't unheard of. and i'm almost certain the society is more than willing to pay for the expenses. we have the money for it."

"hoseok, that isn't in my power to—"

"i know it isn't, sir. " he's grasping at straws at this point, but his mind keeps running like an oiled engine. "we'll offer as our own organization. with enough money, i'm sure those in charge of these type of affairs will accept it willingly. you hinted it yourself, sir; this world runs on money, no matter where it comes from."

"one chain is virtually nothing, hoseok," namjoon begins, but his words falter at the other's hardset expression.

"it can be as big as you want it to be, with enough work and time. if it flops, it flops. but this at least gives us the option to try."

there's a long period of silence before any of the three speak again. when one finally does, it's the boss, heaving a deep sigh from his chest and leaning forward on his elbows. "if word somehow gets out that you're involved in this chain, it could jeopardize your social standing. turn you into a 'paranormal occult' by the general public. you realize this, don't you?"

"i've always recognized this," hoseok says, determined. "and i'm still willing to go through with this. namjoon and the society feel the same way."

"even if you're ostracized?"

"even more so."

quietly, the boss chuckles deeply in his chest. hoseok doesn't realize the sound is coming from him until he sees the gently shake of the other's shoulders. "i've always noticed that about you," he says.

"pardon, sir?"

"that knife-sharp motivation of yours. it's a quality you share with namjoon. i rarely see it around here. when you find something you want to achieve, you strive after it. that's a good quality to have. especially for detectives like yourselves."

it's impossible to hold down the grin that erupts across hoseok's face.

"i'll speak to the others in the agency about your proposition," the boss says. "though i'm positive they'll agree to it, if the society really has as much money as you say it does. but don't expect too much out of me."

"you're doing more than enough as it is, sir," namjoon promises, smiling. "we're...we can't tell you how grateful we are. really. this means more than we can ever say."

only when hoseok walks back outside into the busy streets of the city, the sun dipping below the horizon, does he realize the boss's words in tenfold.

especially for detectives like yourselves.

==

that was one month ago. over the course of that time period, the society lost two members to old age, gained four—spread throughout the globe—, and, thanks to the boss, they gained a news chain, too. hoseok vividly remembers the giddiness that exploded through his system when namjoon received the e-mail, showing it to the rest of the boys; and mrs. kim; and jae; and haewon, iseul, and gunho. immediately, the society went to business.

first on the agenda wasn't to publicize, however. it was to find.

find the families they could, who have had sons—daughters—nephews, nieces—cousins, friends—torn from their sides by abraxas, just as clueless and shocked and distraught as they themselves had been a mere two months ago. and if they responded back, the society would go and meet them, with a familiar object in their bags to return back home. (every single object was retrieved from the warehouse a day after the news chain had been granted, meticulously cleaned and restored as best as able to be.)

the particularly harsh details would be reserved for only the society to know—the families have already suffered enough—, but explanations were always given the moment they were openly welcomed. explanations of everything.

people want—need—closure. and the society makes sure to give it.

and among talk of abraxas, of first and second witnesses, of the other realm and explosions, of oddities and sympathies, there's kim taehyung. each family the society has been in contact with so far knows the name. they know it well now, well enough to say with a thankful smile.

he's a figurehead of sorts for the organization, but hoseok knows he is—and always will be—so much more than that. to him, the name kim taehyung carries a million meanings. hoseok has each one of them engrained deep into his mind.

so far, the society has approached two families, met one, and returned one stuffed bunny, patched with soft stitches at a former tear. it was a family a thousand miles from where hoseok stands, torn a the center but healing a bit faster now. (they know kim taehyung now, too. they made sure to give him their thanks, smiles pointed to the stars.)

now, even two days before the holidays, hoseok sits at the cramped desk of his room with his eyes skimming over documents on his laptop screen. there's around two and a half cups of coffee in his system, and the fluorescent light of his desk lamp makes him feel like he's in an enclosed cubicle, but it's not really something he's entirely paying attention to. there are bigger things to focus on, now. bigger things to heal.

snow whirls outside his apartment window in gentle flurries, opaque against the flashing lights of the city. the walls are thin enough to hear the honks and screeches of vehicles on the streets, but it's calming, in a sense. to the outside world, nothing has changed. to his non-societal colleagues and friends, he's still the same coffee boy with a knack for comic books and his favorite green jacket.

to himself, he's a lot more, now.

suddenly, a low ding of his laptop reels hoseok's attention away from the document. his eyes scan across the notification at the bottom right corner: a new e-mail. maybe a new society finding?

hoseok clicks the notification, opening the e-mail.

snow falls, and so does hoseok's jaw.

it's a small e-mail from the—his—boss, nothing more than a few paragraphs, with a few links and attachments embedded into the message. but as he reads the last few sentences with a racing heart, hoseok can't tear his eyes away.

as your unpaid internship ends next week, i give you my sincerest congratulations. your determination and work ethic continues to fascinate me, and i'm pleased to announce the agency's newest detective as you.

welcome to the team, jung hoseok.

hoseok shakily leans forward, placing his palms on the surface of his desk as a steadier for his jumbled mind. the grin stretching across his face is so wide it hurts.

feeling as if his heart is going to explode, hoseok simply bawls.

==

"so here's to our newest sherlock holmes," announces yoongi, a cheap drink from the nearby grocery store clasped in his fingers, "to a new chapter of the society, and to good fortune. that a good enough toast for you?"

"still a bit weak," mumbles seokjin, though his tone is of good-nature. "but the ice in my drink is melting, so i'll go with it. and two, three...!"

their drinks—still in tin cans or plastic pouches—make a cacophony of unpleasant, grating sounds as they clink together, far from the fancy chime expected for the occasion, but it's good enough for the six of them. better, actually. it's more informal this way, more personal. it's more hey, we survived all that shit together, didn't we, and we're still doing it. so although hoseok is drinking off-branded orange juice while the rich of the city drink sparkling wines in curved glasses, he wouldn't trade it for the life of him.

their laughs are obnoxiously loud as they stand by the river, leaning over the railing of the bridge in a single line. their elbows brush, their feet dance, their eyelashes blink snow away from their faces. it's a cold night, probably below freezing, but hoseok doesn't think he's ever felt warmer.

"this your idea of a celebration, jeon jeongguk?" jimin teases, turning to the youngest. "i don't know about you, but my hands are contracting hypothermia at the moment."

"this is a place i go to often, when i just wanna think," jeongguk smiles. he's got on a ridiculously extravagant pair of earmuffs that hoseok can't help but chuckle at. "it's pretty, isn't it? i've never seen it with snow before."

"yeah, it's pretty, but there are icicles forming under my nose."

"you want to go back to the apartment, chim? 'cause you can always—"

"i'm kidding," jimin snorts, watching as jeongguk snickers behind the straw of his drink. "i'll admit it, you buffoon, fine. this place is wonderful."

hoseok fiddles with his thumbs, biting down his grin. he still can't believe it, that just this upcoming week, he'll be living out the job of his dreams. he'll finally be making that childhood fantasy of his a reality. and even more so, under a column and story that he sincerely cares about.

it's all a lot to think about, now that a ten foot demon isn't chasing him and his friends around town. but he's got time. he's got all the time in the world to count his stars. so for now, hoseok is content with slurping down the remainder of his juice and pointing to the river below them, a sheet of glassy ice covering its surface.

"hey," he thinks out loud, "think that's thick enough to where we can skate on it?"

"you can't be serious, hoseok."

"no, listen! i read somewhere that if you can see the current of the water below the ice, it's safe. and i'm pretty sure i can see it."

"i feel like it should be the opposite."

"aren't you a detective now, hoseok?" namjoon laughs. "why don't you go check it out yourself?"

hoseok's heart swells with pride. "you're right, guess i should. alright, boys, this is my first investigation. care to join me?"

"way to go, namjoon, giving him dumbass ideas—"

"hell yeah, let's go, i know how to test it—"

"we don't even have skates, do we have skates? no? see, we don't even—"

"guess it's settled, then!" hoseok declares. he rushes to the steps of the bridge to the riverside walkway, smiling to himself at the patter of footsteps behind him. "time to check!"

"you're a four year old, jung hoseok!"

turns out, the ice actually isn't thick enough to skate on (in fact, a large chunk of it breaks when jeongguk skips a rock across the surface), which is a slight bummer, if not for the fact that the city is absolutely gorgeous from this view. the six of them just stare in wonder, snow gently placing itself on the shoulders of their jackets.

"damn, we should take jae and mrs. kim here sometime," jimin finally says.

"unless they go on another 'lady's night' without us like today," responds yoongi with mock venom. it coaxes another chuckle from hoseok; just one sentence is enough to remind him of how much those women mean to them. "they always seem to be the busy ones, nowadays, huh?"

"it's nice, though," seokjin says, softly. "it's nice to see them happy like that."

a moment of comfortable silence passes between them all. hoseok closes his eyes and inhales, deeply, feeling snowflakes tickle his nostrils and melt on his cheeks.

"think taehyung's watching us right now?"

"i hope not. we look like idiots in these huge coats."

laughter.

"he'd like this place."

"yeah. he would."

jimin shifts through his pocket to retrieve his soda can and holds it out to the rest of the group. "one more toast," he says, smiling with his eyes. "for taehyungie."

hoseok raises his bottle. there's contentment on his face when he toasts, one more time, with the others and says,

"to taehyungie."

and so, so much more.

==

/cracks fingers alright boyz so we went from dragon ball z guerilla warfare to doki doki cherry blossoms over the course of this entire book n im ??  ?  ? so ? ?
but hey. anyway.
we've reached the last chapter of afflicted guys.
well actually the epilogue is next BUT this is the last True chapter omGEE can u believe it
this was a WILD ass ride & im thankful yall were there to read it w me!
but yeah. i luh u guys. love myself love yourself peace