I flew into Italy and stayed in Rome for a week, wrapping up details on a separate mission that needed to be smoothed over. It wasn't complex and it didn't take all my time, but it did require a certain level of finesse and diplomacy, which I was skilled in. While in the process of wrapping up the mission, I made arrangements for the trip to Korea. I rented an airbnb, using my human name, within the residential area, not too far from the BigHit building and arranged travel and a car to this location. Knowing that Kim Namjoon would be near to where I was staying would make it easier to follow him and investigate as much as I could of him. I'm sure, in the eyes of humans this would make me appear to be a stalker. The idea made me laugh. Stalker, indeed.

I was alone at this time, not needing a partner to assist me, though I knew that if I needed someone, I could ask. I also knew that this was a path I needed to explore on my own for now. I gave myself a few days after arriving in Korea to get settled and develop the plan for my personal mission before I fully worked out my plan to learn more of Kim Namjoon. To further prepare, I scoured over news articles, watched social media and videos, old, recorded lives and followed whatever news I could of him and his band. In this process I also learned a lot about their fan-base, how dedicated they were and how observant, often like investigators, both seeing things that were and were not there.

Army seemed to be a very good name for them. They were individuals, and each had a voice, but in their love, adoration and sometimes obsession with the Bangtan boys, was a mass force to be reckoned with. In some ways, they were almost frightening in their devotion. I knew that I had to be careful of these people as well. They amused me, but I could not take lightly the idea that they were always watching Bangtan Sonyeondan with a fervor akin to the same as that of an inquisition at worst, and supplicants to a god at best. At least this was how I viewed it as an outsider. These men were divine to some of them. Idol was a fitting title for what they were. Living and breathing graven images. I laughed to myself at the idea, as I tapped on another video on my phone, remembering how Namjoon had called me 'beautiful Louvre girl' in the wrecked car several months ago, being half drunk with the damage to his head. Idol, indeed, but still very human and not like a god at all.

I decided that I would wait near the building where they worked and settled in a corner seat inside a coffee shop not far from it. I had seen the paths, where they were not shadowed, and the potential to run into them in the coffee shop existed. I realized that because the weave of the path showed that any one of the three of their band, that had seen me during the accident, would recognize me, I had to be more careful at this juncture. For this reason I wore dark clothes, with my hair cut shorter to better blend in, and wore a hat and mask. I also wore sunglasses to hide my eyes, as they were distinctive among the predominantly dark eyed Koreans. Sunglasses inside wasn't a common occurrence with others, as I had observed in the past, but it did happen at times, and I had a ready excuse, if asked. "My eyes were sensitive to the light," I always responded.

As I sat in the corner of the coffee shop, drinking tea, and half reading a book, pretending to be engrossed in it, I heard the bell over the door announcing another customer. I looked up briefly and saw a man in an oversized hoodie and loose fitting slacks. He wore sandals on his feet, a baseball cap on his head and a mask on his face. I recognized him from both the numerous pictures I had seen of him, as well as the way his energy felt to me, which was like a signature. It was distinctive. I carefully watched him as he walked up to the counter and ordered a coffee. He glanced over at me, as he waited for his coffee, and I gazed back down at my book. Of all those that had seen my face during the accident, it was possible that Yoongi would be the one who would remember me best and I was not ready to be known yet.

When his coffee was ready, he took it with him as he sat at a table on the opposite side of the store from me. I glanced up at him covertly, opening my mind to hear his thoughts. I caught random thoughts from the others sparsely populating the space, but little from him. 'His mind was a fortress,' I thought to myself. I sent Light into his mind so that I could hear him better and internally laughed when the faint energy of his thoughts wafted over to me, almost like a scent on the breeze. He was going through lyrics in his head that he was trying to work out. The lyrics had a good ring to them, but he wasn't happy with it. I knew it was very frustrating to be stuck when your livelihood depended on it and quietly commiserated with him. I turned a page in the book that I was only half reading, continuing to pretend to mind my own business.

As he sat there, he pulled out a notebook and began writing in it between sips of coffee. I looked up and watched him again, half listening to his thoughts, but not finding anything there that I could use. In the next moment, I decided to listen less, after wallowing in my amusement for a moment, allowing him more privacy. I listened for thoughts that would indicate any future events, however, skimming over the rest. 'Namjoon', 'Schedule' and 'Plans' were good words to listen for. These would key me in to pay closer attention.

His phone buzzed and he took it out, looking at a text. He responded and I closed my book for a moment, my thumb in-between the pages as I took a sip of my tea, listening more closely to his thoughts as he typed out his text. Namjoon had been the key word. He was texting his friend and leader.

Namjoon was going back to their dorm for the afternoon with Taehyung who wasn't feeling well. Seokjin was going with them, but they would be back later in the evening. That, I decided, was good to know. As Yoongi typed on his phone a simple, "Okay. See you later." I could see the memory of the dorm in his mind and had a general location and what it looked like. I mentally nodded to myself and standing, I took my book and put it in my bag, then tossed the tea in the garbage as I left the shop. I ignored Yoongi, who I could tell was watching me as I left.

Walking to the BigHit building, I waited nearby, pretending to look at my phone. As I stood there, a black SUV exited an underground garage, and I pretended to half walk and half ignore the vehicle as it drove past. Deciding that Namjoon might be in it, I sent my mind into the van to feel the energy signatures of the people inside and realized it was him with two others. One was Taehyung and the others I was not familiar with. I took note of the make, model and license plate of the vehicle and took my keys out to walk towards my own car. I didn't plan to follow them. Not yet, at least. But I did take mental notes that I would use to build up my knowledge of the man named Kim Namjoon.

~~~

It was a little over two weeks later from the morning I had seen Yoongi in the coffee shop, and I had a very good idea of who the man, Kim Namjoon. I had managed to find his dorm, had followed him to a few personal appointments, had caught more than one thought from him, as I followed him, and had found myself amused and intrigued by him. He was very complex with deep thoughts that occasionally centered around our meeting the first and possibly, in his mind, the second time, and I realized his thoughts around me confused him, but also made him wish to see me again. He both wanted to know me, but he also wanted to understand the mystery around me. Through watching him and his thoughts I realized that those who had seen Dana and I had been able to piece together some of what happened, but there was a lot they didn't understand about that day. And though Jimin had not spoken of it in months, his comments about aliens had caused Namjoon to question his own experience. Jimin hadn't thought it was possible, but then the events of that day, the damage to the van, the amount of blood in the vehicle that didn't match Taehyung's wound and that he had bounced around in the van without a seatbelt pretty hard without experiencing anything worse than a mild concussion and bruising had confused him more. It just wasn't logical. And Jimin had said that the people didn't do much. "The woman touched Taehyung and you and the man touched me, but they didn't really do anything other than that." The information had left a huge blank in his mind that only caused him to circle round and round to the same questions. He was tired of it, but he kept coming back to it. If nothing else, he wanted to meet this woman again so that he could ask her what she remembered of that day. 'Hell, even meeting the man would be nice,' he had thought.

I had felt a sense of compassion as I listened to his thoughts, coming over to me piecemeal, over the course of several days as I watched and followed him. I wasn't ready to show myself to him, but I realized it would have to be soon.

Watching him proved to be further entertaining, as I was able to see that he truly was a walking disaster of mayhem and it was not something he pretended. Unlike a comedian who pretended to fall over himself to shock people into laughter, he didn't seem to know where or how to place his feet and hands at times. And it was completely unconscious. He would drop his phone, cracking the screen. Or he would spill coffee on himself. He would try to grab something with his chopsticks and it would fly off somehow, hitting one of his band mates in the face or covering their hair with spicy sauce. More than once, while watching him, through the memories of others, I had found myself holding back a laugh. I found it endearing.

It didn't take me long to be able to find him through his energy, no matter where I was, look in on him and catch his thoughts, no matter what they were. After a few weeks of following him, I relaxed my stance and followed him less in body and followed him more inside my mind. This afternoon I knew he was planning to ride his bike in the park. He had a short break of a few days, and he had decided that it would be relaxing. Looking at the paths, I watched the best possible one and made my choice. Today I would speak with him.