The rain had started. It tapped against the glass like a persistent warning, echoing in the cavernous silence of Jungkook’s office. The room was dark except for the faint amber glow from the desk lamp, casting long, distorted shadows on the walls.

Jungkook stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, his back to the door, his fingers curled tightly into fists as he replayed the scene over and over in his mind.

The sound of shattered glass.
Sanjana’s eyes—wide, distant, terrified.
The way her body crumpled to his chest as if the present had vanished completely.

A soft knock.

“Come in,” Jungkook said, voice tight.

Hoseok entered briskly, tablet tucked under one arm, his usual light demeanor replaced with professional seriousness. He didn’t offer a greeting—just a grave nod.

Jungkook didn’t look at him. His voice was low, steady—but beneath it, the tremble of something dangerously close to breaking.

Jungkook:
“She flinched so hard  when the glass struck the floor. But the moment the shouting started… something changed.”

He turned now, his eyes meeting Hoseok’s, no longer cold—but haunted.

Jungkook (slowly):
“She jolted up. Her pupils dilated. Hands trembled. Her breathings started fanning. She backed into the corner to my chest on bed like a trapped animal. It wasn’t just fear. It was like she left the room entirely.”
A pause.
“She wasn’t looking at me anymore. She was somewhere else.”

Hoseok exhaled, jaw tense, and pulled up the data on his tablet. Neural scans, stress response patterns, vitals—he laid them flat on the glass desk between them.

Hoseok:
“You’re right. Her response wasn’t reactive—it was retriggered. That’s a clinical marker for trauma recall. It’s not just something that scared her in the moment. This was a memory. Something from her past reactivated under the pressure of the present.”

Jungkook leaned over the desk, his gaze locked on the graphs but clearly not seeing them. His jaw clenched. His voice dropped.

Jungkook:
“Which means this wasn’t the first time…”

Hoseok (softly):
“No. Whatever happened at morning —whatever you said, or she heard—was similar enough to a past event to cause a psychological collapse. PTSD-level.”

Jungkook (harsh whisper):
“She’s hiding something.”
A pause.
“Something that’s killing her slowly, and she won’t let anyone see it.”

His fists curled again, nails digging into his palm. Hoseok could see the shift — the slow erosion of Jungkook’s famously guarded persona.

Hoseok:
“She’s not just hiding it. She’s been burying it for a long time. That’s why she’s been able to smile and function—until now. The mind can only suppress that kind of damage for so long before it starts breaking.”

Jungkook stepped away, running a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply.

Jungkook:
“She didn’t even tell me…”
A pause, then quieter, almost ashamed:
“She didn’t trust me enough to say a word.”

Hoseok (carefully):
“Maybe she don’t want to stress anyone for her care.”

That did it.

Jungkook turned sharply, his voice raised for the first time, not in anger but in frustration, pain.

Jungkook:
“How can she think that? After everything? I’ve watched her suffer every goddamn day—how much she struggle to just mere sleep, I held myself back every time she smiled like nothing was wrong!”
His voice broke, just slightly.
“I care more than I should.”

The words hung in the air, like a confession that had been waiting to burst.

Hoseok’s gaze softened. “Then tell her. Be there now.”

Jungkook’s eyes flickered with something raw and vulnerable. He moved closer to the desk again, placing both hands on it as if anchoring himself.

Jungkook (quietly, firmly):
“I will. I don’t care how long it takes. I’m going to find out what she’s hiding.”
A beat.
“And I swear… once I do, she’s never going to face it alone again.”

Silence fell between the two men  heavy, meaningful.

Jungkook’s cold mask had fallen.

And in its place stood a man who would burn the world down if it meant shielding her from the pieces of her past that still had the power to shatter her.

And they both decided to left for the mansion.
To see her.
To ask her.
And to confess her.

There on the other side, the Jeon Mansion had never looked so alive. Twinkling lights ran like fireflies across the balconies, a floral arch stood tall by the grand entrance, and pastel-hued drapes fluttered in the warm afternoon breeze. The air buzzed with energy, laughter in silence, and a strange mix of nerves—mostly from one man pacing on the balcony with a balloon in one hand and a confession trapped in his chest, becoming restless to confess yet eager to get the decoration done perfectly as he want.

“Yoongi!! That’s not where the fairy lights go!” Jimin called out dramatically from the ladder, pointing at the tangled mess hanging like limp spaghetti.

“Then you do it, Mr. Perfectionist,” Yoongi grunted, holding onto the ladder with one hand. “You want me to make it sparkle like her damn smile too?”

“Actually yes,” Namjoon chimed in, walking by with a basket full of scented candles. “We agreed this is going to be magical. It's Sanjana's day, and we want her to feel it. Her 1st month with us is gonna complete!!”

From down the hall, Yaini peeked out, adjusting the flower arrangements. “Guys, the cake's here! And oh my God, it’s shaped like a mini version of this mansion! Look at this!”

The boys gathered around for a moment, admiring the masterpiece.

“Damn, we’ve really gone all out,” Jimin whispered with a soft grin. “But she deserves it. Our star.”

“She does,” Namjoon nodded. “It’s just one month... but it feels like she’s been a part of us forever.”

Yaini chuckled. “She has, in her own way.”

“Alright, alright!” Taehyung clapped once, voice raised. “Enough swooning over. She’s our fairy queen. Just focus, yeah? We need everything perfect before she even steps out of her room.”

Yoongi raised an eyebrow. “Why so tensed?”

Taehyung scoffed, eyes shifting away. “I just don’t want her to find out. Jungkook and Hoseok aren’t here, so this is the only time we can pull this off.”

“Speaking of,” Jimin mused, “should we feel bad for not telling Jungkook? I mean, it’s his mansion...”

Taehyung stiffened slightly, jaw tightening. “He’ll understand. Especially since it’s hers. Afterall. He’d do anything for Sanjana—we all know that.”He said last line some kind rolling his eyes back in annoyance.

There was a brief silence, the kind that hummed with something unspoken.

Namjoon exchanged a look with Yoongi, who simply lit another candle.

“I’m just saying,” Jimin muttered under his breath, “Jungkook’s been looking at her like she holds the answers to the universe.”

Taehyung’s fingers curled around the velvet box in his pocket. His voice came out tight but calm, “And she doesn’t even realize it. Typical.”

“Alright!” he said louder, forcing a grin. “Let’s get this done. And please—no one breathe a word of this to anyone. Be silent. If Sanjana finds out, I’ll personally hide your bodies in the attic.”

“Hyung’s in drama mode again,” Yaini whispered to Jimin, who giggled.

Again his steps took him to the balcony under the shade, he stood still, watching the rain raining and beautifying the whole atmosphere. The wind played with the strands of his hair, but he didn’t move. Behind him, he can hear distant echoes of laughter and Yaini shouting about balloon placements rang out, but all of it blurred.

His hand slipped into his pocket, fingers brushing against the small velvet box.

“Just say it,” he whispered to himself, voice heavy. “You’ve held broken people together in hospitals, survived the darkest nights of your past, and yet here you are… afraid of a girl who smiles at everyone but never knows what she’s doing to you.”

He shut his eyes tightly, breathing deep. “It’s just Sanjana… right?”

But that was the lie. She wasn’t just anything.

She was warmth in the coldest part of him. A storm and a calm all in one. The girl who unknowingly stitched herself into the seams of his chest.

And Jungkook—damn Jungkook—he wore his heart on his sleeve when it came to her. Loud and proud, no shame in his affection. Everyone saw it. Even Sanjana must have seen it by now.

That thought alone made something twist in Taehyung’s stomach.

He glanced at the half-decorated hall behind him from the balcony. The place was blooming with effort and joy.

But all he could think was—

“What if I’m too late?”

Back in the hall, things were as chaotic as ever.

“JIMIN, I SAID NO GLITTER!” Yaini shrieked, chasing after him with a roll of tape.

“Too late, princess! Sanjana sparkles so should the room!” Jimin laughed, dodging behind Namjoon.

Namjoon rolled his eyes, holding up a floral curtain. “If we don’t finish this by five, I’m turning off the power.”

“You won’t,” Suga muttered, calmly sticking fairy lights into the pillars. “You’re just as excited as the rest of us.”

“I still think we should’ve at least informed Jungkook,” Jimin added, dodging more glitter.

“He would’ve thrown her a party with fireworks and probably bought her a horse,” Yaini said with a smile. “That boy’s love for her is something else.”

Taehyung overheard as he stepped back in—and his jaw clenched.

“Focus!” he snapped, forcing his tone light. “This is Sanjana’s day. Not Jungkook’s love confession fantasy hour. Got it?”

They looked at him, amused.

Jimin chuckled. “Alright, alright. No more Jungkook mentions. We’ll let you steal the spotlight this time.”

Yaini grinned. “If you’ve got something to say to her... you better say it tonight, Taehyung. Or don’t blame anyone else when someone else does.”

Taehyung didn’t reply.

He just looked at the lights flickering across the walls and whispered under his breath—

“Please, Sanjana… look at me first.”

As the final decorations were done and the hall shimmered in golden hues, Yaini and Namjoon exchanged a quick nod before making their way upstairs. Reaching Sanjana’s room, Yaini knocked softly.

“Come in,” came her voice, calm but distant.

They stepped inside—and froze.

There she stood by the window, bathed in the soft glow of the evening light, wearing a satin red dress that clung to her like a whispered promise. Her hair cascaded down in gentle waves, a single rose tucked behind her ear, and her eyes—though quiet—held storms.

Namjoon let out a low whistle. “Wow… you look stunning.”

Yaini beamed. “Like something out of a dream. Ready?”

Sanjana gave a nervous chuckle, smoothing her dress. “Not sure, but whats happening please someone tell me.”

Both Yaini and Namjoon giggled and uttered,"SURPRISE "

She didn’t know then that what awaited her wasn’t just a surprise.

Suddenly Yaini put a  blindfold against her eyes. It made her panick for a second. It was a collision—with a memory that never really left.

The blindfold against her eyes felt like silk. Soft… warm… but suffocating.

Sanjana chuckled nervously tried to supress her reaction, “Guys, what is this? I swear, if I trip, I’m blaming all of you!”

"Shhh, just walk slowly," Yaini whispered.

Namjonn's hand gripped hers gently. “Trust us. You’ll love it.”

Her heart pounded. The darkness behind the blindfold wasn't scary, but strangely familiar. Her steps faltered, knees wobbling, her lips curved in a smile which was going to flatter soon. She could feel the floor shift slightly beneath her with each step, could hear the distant sounds of giggles and… balloons?

They planned something for me?

As the blindfold came off, her breath caught.

The hall was glowing with golden lights, pastel drapes, flower petals scattered like dreams on the floor. The scent of vanilla and roses danced in the air, and soft music played somewhere in the background. Everything recalled her that same day. Her breaths started to hitch.

Jimin jumped out from behind a curtain. “Ta-da! Happy pre-birthday, Sanjana!”

Everyone cheered.

Her hands fell limb to her side, as each and everything was resembling with that horrible day's decoration and course.

Yoongi smirked, lighting the final candle. And there Taehyung —just  walked in, holding the cake shaped like a tiny mansion.

Her eyes widened.

A sudden wave surged through her. Not emotion.

Fear.

The cake. Brought in the same way.

A flash.

“Happy birthday, Sanjana...”
A different voice this time.
Karan.
The past slammed into her chest.

“You...you remembered my birthday!!!”
Her voice from month ago echoed in her ears.

“Bilkul. Aur yeh raha tumhara gift... ise pehno... aur neeche aao.”

Her knees buckled, a tremor running through her bones.

In front of her, everyone was smiling, but she couldn’t see their faces anymore. Their expressions were blending into the shadows of another day. Another world.

“Thank you so much bhaiya... aap mera best birthday gift ho.”
“Daksha kaha hai...?”

The soft frosting scent mixed with the choking stench of betrayal.

Her hands started shaking.

Taehyung stepped forward with a warm grin. “We know you don’t like grand surprises, but... this one’s for you.”

Sanjana blinked—but the grin twisted in her eyes.

It wasn’t Taehyung anymore.

It was Samar.

Holding a cake and a drink.

“Kya kar rahe ho bhaiya? Aankhein kyun band ki?”
“Shhh... surprise...”

No.

Her vision started swimming.

The mansion hall transformed in her mind’s eye—flower petals turned into shattered glass, candles into flickering trauma, and that cake—

That goddamn cake.

Her breathing became rapid.

“No. No. No, no, no, no...”

She stumbled back, hands clutching her ears.

“San—Sanjana?” Jimin called, concern flooding his voice. “What’s wrong?!”

She screamed.

Like the walls were closing in. Like her skin burned from memories she could never wash off.

She collapsed to her knees, howling, her arms wrapped around herself protectively.

Taehyung dropped the cake in horror.

Yoongi rushed forward, followed by Yaini. “What's happening to her..?? Is she having a panic attack?”

“Sanjana, breathe. Hey, look at me, it’s okay—it’s us, you're safe!” Jimin knelt in front of her.

But she couldn’t hear them.

All she could hear was the sound of Karan’s helpless eyes watching…

Samar’s breath near her ear amd his dirty touches…

"Help me! Please, someone—help—"

Tears poured down her face, her body trembling violently.

Taehyung just stood there, frozen, the velvet box slipping from his hand unnoticed.

The car screeched around the final bend, headlights slicing through the dusk as Jungkook gripped the steering wheel tighter. Hoseok sat beside him, clutching a folder thick with papers—Sanjana’s psychological reports, recently updated by her therapist.

“There’s something deeper here, Jungkook. Something she’s not saying.”

Jungkook’s jaw tightened. “I know. That’s why I need to talk to her. I need to know what she’s been through—everything. How can I protect her if I don’t even know what’s haunting her?”

Just as the mansion’s gates came into view, a scream pierced the air.

Sanjana’s scream.

It wasn’t just loud—it was raw, guttural, filled with a kind of terror that shattered the calm of the evening like glass.

Jungkook’s blood ran cold.

“Sanjana?!” he shouted, slamming the brakes as the car barely rolled to a stop. The folder slipped from Hoseok’s hands, scattering papers across the seat—but Jungkook didn’t even look back.

He flung the door open and bolted toward the mansion, legs pumping, breath catching. He didn’t care who was inside or what was happening.

All he knew was she was in pain.

And nothing else mattered.

It was only when Jungkook’s voice shouted from behind them—running to her—that her sobs broke into strangled gasps.

“SANJANA!”

He dropped to his knees beside her, not caring who was watching or what had happened before. His arms wrapped around her protectively, pulling her against his chest as if trying to shield her from every horror in the world.

Her fists hit him with no real strength—just desperation.

“Don’t let him touch me... please... don’t let him...”

“I won’t,” Jungkook choked, holding her tighter as he rocked her gently. “I swear on everything I have—I won’t ever let anyone hurt you again.”

But then—her body stilled for a split second.

And then began to tremble.

Violently.

Her breathing became erratic—gasping, sharp. Her arms tensed in his hold.

“Sanjana?” Jungkook whispered, eyes scanning her face.

Then her eyes rolled back.

“No. No, no—Sanjana?!” he screamed, panic slamming into him like a bullet.

Her body jerked uncontrollably now, as if possessed by unseen forces. Foam spilled from her mouth. Her hands clawed at the air, then stiffened.

“HOSEOK!! SHE’S HAVING A SEIZURE!” Jungkook cried, his voice raw and cracking.

Hoseok was already in motion, dropping the reports they had brought, rushing to his knees beside them.

“Lay her down! On her side! Now!” Hoseok barked, voice strained but focused.

Jungkook, frantic and trembling, eased her onto the floor, guiding her head with trembling hands, eyes wide with terror.

Then he looked up—his voice turning to a roar of rage and desperation.

“WHAT HAPPENED?! WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO HER?!” he shouted at everyone frozen in the room. “WHAT DID YOU DO?! SHE WAS FINE—WHAT DID YOU ALL DO TO HER?!”

But no one answered.

Because no one could.

Not even Taehyung, who stood at a distance—paralyzed. His lips parted, eyes wide, heart caving in on itself as the scene unfolded.

This wasn’t what he planned.

Not like this.

He had only wanted to speak to her. To confront the truth. To find closure—maybe healing.

But now… she lay on the floor, convulsing, breaking, in the arms of the man she kept begging to protect her.

And all Taehyung could do was stand there, rooted in place, eyes glistening in silent torment. His chest heaved with guilt, pain, and a sense of betrayal from the universe itself.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen.

Not today.

Not to her.

Hoseok’s voice cut through the chaos. “Her vitals are dropping—Jungkook, keep her stable—don’t let her choke—I need that kit, now!”

Jungkook’s tears fell freely now as he tried to keep Sanjana’s seizing body still. “Stay with me... please, stay with me...” he whispered in a voice so broken it barely held shape.

And above them, the mansion's lights flickered one final time—casting long shadows across shattered decorations, a forgotten cake, and the crumbling hope of a birthday that was never meant to break this way.
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See you guys in next chapter...
Till then love you guys...
💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕