It was a wonderful day, with the sun shining warmly upon my skin. The air was clean and pure, which was sometimes a rarity, with whole days in a row of dust and pollution making this country a difficult place to be. I never fully recovered while sojourning here. I often felt ambiguously ill when working outdoors. Other countries were a challenge to my health, as well, in variation, and I was never completely fond of the missions that took me away from the countryside, where the air was often more clear. I knew that, outside of the pollution generated within the country, it was often exacerbated by the pollution and dust which came in from China. But today was a good day. The air was blowing in from the east, instead of the north and west, carrying with it the slight scents of the countryside, which the human senses could not detect, but were detectable to my kind. I took a deep breath of the bouquet, as I closed my eyes and lifted my face towards the warmth of the sun, fully enjoying the moment.

We had been in South Korea for a little over a week, and were waiting to hear from our contact in Seoul, as we laid low in a house situated more in the country than the city. I had time to relax and enjoy the day, thinking of very little, but the breeze and warmth of the sun on my skin.

Thoughts of the Korean man in the Louvre had been pushed to the side after leaving France, and I had not much considered it since that day, which had been a distance of several months between that time and this moment. I had not been able to determine what about the encounter had caused the inexplicable attraction, and I didn't know who he was or where he was from. The paths had shown me nothing, and I had kept the encounter to myself. The idea that I could potentially meet this man again lingered in the back of my mind, but the mission was far more important, and I did not wish to entertain any thoughts beyond obtaining the information we came to this country to get.

The house we inhabited was of another contact who was a friend to our kind. One that knew of us, but kept quiet about his knowledge. And yet what he did know, was very little. Though he had known us since he was a young man, and had proved trustworthy in time, we kept our secrets close to our hearts and did not share most of everything. What was shared, was only what was necessary. I knew the man, who allowed us to use his empty houses, suspected who and what we were, but glamor was enough to keep him from fully grasping all of it.

Dana sat down in the chair next to mine and turned his face to the sun with a faint smile, unconsciously mimicking my earlier gesture, "It's a nice day today." He said in English.

I looked over at him with an equally faint smile and nodded, "Yes. One can breathe." I uttered.

He laughed softly, the sound deeply melodic, "Yes. Breathing is good, no?" He suggested wryly, and I laughed.

"When were we expecting to hear from her?" I asked into the silence that followed. I did not need to express who the woman was that we were to hear from. Dana already knew my thoughts, as we were in deep communion, having access to each other's thoughts when open to each other. As we had known each other a long time, our friendship and working relationship had deepened over the centuries, and our minds were always naturally a little accessible with each other, which made us a good team, and allowed us to express what was necessary without sharing too much, verbally.

"Soon." He said, "I anticipate very soon." His voice was just barely expressed on his breath, not loud enough to be a whisper, but I heard it, "I expect it will be today, actually."

The telltale sense of energy showing him the paths spoke to him often and made him a valuable asset to our team. I often worked alone, but sometimes I met up with others to work, and his sense of the paths was stronger than many, which made him good at what he did. I saw them too, but not like he did. I watched him as he kept his face towards the warmth of the sun, recognizing the signs, as he seemed lost in the weave of the paths, "What do you see?" I asked very quietly.

He spoke just as quietly, "We will have to go into the city, Ma'ardrha." My true name on his lips, almost a song as he breathed it out at the edge of his breath. I took a deep breath to steady myself, as I often did, and he responded to my unspoken thought, "I know that you are not fond of the city." I snorted softly in agreement and sat, turning my own face again to the sun. We did not need to speak more and we fell into silence. After a time, both of us stood, in tandem, and re-entered the house.

~~~

Namjoon sat in the chair, enjoying the late morning sunshine and good air quality as he rested on the balcony of their dorm. They had a small concert tonight, as part of their comeback and he was revved for it. Their manager told them to rest for a few hours before they would be picked up to go to the venue this afternoon. They had been practicing all week, honing their choreography and songs. Their latest album had been accepted well. He was so thankful for Army, their fan base. It was Army that allowed them to continue living their dreams.

He turned the page of the book he was reading, seemingly engrossed in it. He had not been outside long, and looked up from the pages briefly, recalling the earlier conversation he had with Sejin. He smirked in memory as he looked back down at his book, searching for the next section of the book. Sejin had snorted, as he watched Namjoon pacing the conference room before their meeting, and picking up on the sound, laced with exacerbation, Namjoon explained,  "I know I get nervous every time, but I cannot decide if it's nervousness or excitement." He admitted. "And it's hours away still." He realized he had not explained himself well, and announced, as if he hadn't already finished his sentence, "The concert."

Sejin puffed out a breath with a slight laugh and said, "Joon-ah. Go touch some grass." Intentionally misusing the euphemism. Namjoon had looked at him with a smirk that faded quickly and deadpanned, as the others came into the room, filing in one and two at a time, "After the meeting."

Now, he was sitting here, reading, not literally touching grass, but the sunshine was good, the air was good, and the concert was tonight. All was well with the world. Metaphorical grass had been touched. He continued reading to the end of the page, then turned it.

Taehyung came out and sat next to him, not speaking for many moments. When he did, it was with an almost subdued playfulness, banked in his serious expression, but evident in the lines of his body, "It's a good day." He said and Joon looked up at him.

"Yeah." He said, and looked back at his book, clearly wanting to be alone.

Taehyung hesitated, but his lips twitched as he studied the other man, "Uh. Do you want me to go, hyung?" Taehyung asked, as he gestured towards the door leading back inside.

"No. It's fine." Namjoon continued to read, as if Taehyung was not sitting near him, attempting to peer at what he was reading. He lowered the book, allowing Taehyung to see the face of the pages as his eyes moved over the words.

Taehyung responded, "Because you know, it's okay. I can go." He said, emphasizing the option, his body poised on the edge of laughter.

Namjoon looked up patiently, though a faint expression of exasperation displayed itself in the line of his jaw, "No. Tae-ah. It's fine." He said, "Did you want to talk?" He asked as he set his book facedown, the pages still open, on his lap.

Taehyung shook his head and looked at the book, as Namjoon, seeing the gesture, picked it up again and began to read where he left off. There was a brief silence before Taehyung spoke again, "What are you reading?" He asked, peering down to look at the cover of the book Namjoon was holding. Namjoon placed his finger in-between the pages, as he closed the book again, regarding the younger man as he waited for him to speak. Taehyung caught the title and peeked at Namjoon. "Reading it again?"

Namjoon sat the book down on the table next to him, "Yeah. It was good the first time."

Taehyung smiled and put his hands behind his head as he leaned back and tilted his head to the sky, affecting nonchalance, "The Unbearable Lightness of Being. It's a good title." He licked his lips thoughtfully, "Maybe I should try reading it some time."

Picking the book up again, Namjoon murmured, "I will let you borrow it after I am done."

Taehyung smiled brightly at the other man, "Cool, hyung!" Namjoon smiled slightly and nodded, then opened his book to begin reading again. "Isn't it about reincarnation?" Taehyung queried, looking at his leader.

Namjoon closed the book again, renewing his patience, and set it on his lap, "It's about the idea that people have only one life to live and whatever occurs in it will only happen once and never again."

Knitting his brows together thoughtfully, his humor gone for a moment as he considered his words, Taehyung stated, "But things repeat themselves all the time." He continued with a question, "Right?"

Namjoon considered his band mate seriously, "They do, but not everything does." He said.

Taehyung shrugged, completely abandoning his repressed hilarity, "I don't think we can ever really know. Not until we die, at least." He grew thoughtful, "But it's just philosophy, right?" He inquired.

"Yes. It's philosophy and more." Namjoon responded seriously, "An argument. A question. Asking if our understanding is correct and proposing a new idea."

Nodding, a little like a happy puppy as it wags its tail, Taehyung rejoined, his humor seeming to rise up again, "Yeah. So nobody really knows." He popped up from his chair, suddenly and grinned, almost playfully, at NamJoon, "Great chat, Namjoon-ssi."

Namjoon picked up his book and smiled softly, shaking his head, as Taehyung went back inside, almost certain that the younger man was playing with him. He heard laughter as the door was shut, and without realizing it, smirked, vaguely rolling his eyes, as he returned his full attention to the creed of the book.