🥀 84. The Foundation of our life

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Jungkook's eyes darted around the road, her mind spinning with questions. The scenery outside had changed—the vibrant city fading behind them, replaced by long, empty roads flanked by dense trees.

The further they drove, the quieter it became.

Her hands unconsciously gripped the edge of her dress.

"Where exactly are we going?"

Taehyung remained silent for a beat, his fingers tightening slightly around the steering wheel. The only sound between them was the low hum of the engine and the faint rustle of wind through the open window.

Then, finally, he spoke.

"You'll see."

Jungkook exhaled sharply. "That's not an answer," she muttered, shifting in her seat. "You said 'the foundation of our life'—what does that even mean?"

His jaw tensed, his gaze fixed ahead. "It means..." he started, but trailed off, as if weighing his words carefully. Then, he glanced at her, his voice quieter this time. "It's something you deserve to know."

Something I deserve to know?

Jungkook's heartbeat stuttered, uneasy feeling settled in her stomach.

Her mind raced with possibilities, each one more unsettling than the last.

Was this about their past?

About him?

About her?

Jungkook turned back toward the road, watching as they passed an old, rusted sign—one too faded to read properly. The trees grew denser, the sky a shade darker, as if they were driving toward something buried deep in time itself.

A thought crossed her mind then, one that made her fingers clench tighter over her dress.

The car slowed to a stop, its tires crunching against the damp, gravelly path. The air was heavily fogged with the aftermath of the rainstorm that had swept through.

Raindrops clung to the leaves of the towering trees, their dark silhouettes stretching into the sky like skeletal fingers.

Jungkook turned her head toward the window, squinting through the mist.

The blurred outline of something stood in the distance—a gate, old and rusted, its iron bars slightly ajar as if waiting for them. Beyond it, barely visible through the dense fog, was the faint, distorted image of a building.

It loomed in the distance, its darkened structure blending into the gloom of the overcast sky.

Her heartbeat quickened.

Taehyung moved first. Without a word, he stepped out of the car, his boots meeting the wet ground. Jungkook watched as he rounded the vehicle, his form momentarily disappearing into the fog before reappearing on her side. When he opened her door, the scent of damp earth and rain-soaked wood filled her senses.

He held out his hand and she hurriedly slipped her fingers into his.

Taehyung's grip was firm as he helped her out of the car, Jungkook instinctively moved closer to him, her other hand gripping his coat. Her eyes darted around, looking at the unsettling quiet place.

The trees stood unnaturally still. There was no rustling of leaves, no chirping of birds, just an eerie silence that made the air feel heavier.

"This place..." she whispered. "It's..."

"Creepy?" Taehyung finished for her, a small frown playing at his lips despite the somberness of the place.

Jungkook gulped, nodding. "Yeah. Definitely creepy."

Her fingers instinctively curled tighter around his as her eyes flickered back toward the gate. The closer she looked, the more she noticed—the twisted vines wrapping around its iron bars, the faint faded engraving at the top.

It was impossible to make out what it said.

Jungkook turned toward Taehyung, searching his face. "What is this place?"

Taehyung didn't answer immediately. Instead, he let out a slow breath, his gaze lingering on the gate as if it held more than just rust and decay.

Then, his grip on her hand tightened slightly.

"The beginning," he murmured. "And the end."

Jungkook's breath hitched. Her eyes snapped back toward the gate, the chill in the air suddenly feeling more suffocating than before.

They began to move closer and the fog began to thin, revealing more of the structure hidden beyond the rusted gate. Jungkook's grip on Taehyung's hand tightened as her breath caught in her throat.

A mansion.

Large and towering, it stood in eerie silence, its presence dominating the misty landscape.

Time had not been kind to this grand estate—the once-grand exterior was now worn, the stone had darkened with age and moisture. Ivy crawled up the walls, creeping into the cracks, as if nature itself was trying to reclaim the place.

The massive windows, some were shattered while others murky with dust and grime, they stared back like hollow eyes.

Jungkook swallowed hard, her fingers clutching at Taehyung's coat. Taehyung's expression remained unreadable, his gaze locked onto the looming mansion.

Then, finally, he spoke.

"The place where it all began."

Jungkook felt a shiver crawl down her spine.

"But why are we here?" Jungkook asked, turning to Taehyung. There was unease in her voice, confusion mixing with apprehension.

Taehyung exhaled, his jaw tightening slightly before he finally turned to look at her.

"Because, Mrs. Kim," he said, "it's time you learned the truth."

"This is the Jeon Manor."

Jungkook's breath hitched as her fingers went cold. She blinked, staring up at the towering structure with wide, disbelieving eyes.

"Jeon Manor?"

Taehyung gave a slow nod. "Yes," he confirmed. "The place where you were born. The home that once belonged to your family."

Jungkook's heartbeat pounded in her ears as she took a step forward, her grip on Taehyung tightening unconsciously. Her eyes darted across the manor, trying to piece together the fragments of a past she could barely remember.

The grand Jeon Manor—once the home of one of the wealthiest and most powerful families of their time.

A place that had once stood tall in all its glory, brimming with life, laughter, and the prestige of the Jeon legacy.

Now, it was nothing more than a ghost of its former self. The gates rusted, the walls weathered, the grandeur faded into the past.

When Taehyung and Jungkook stepped closer to the gates with their hands entwined, the atmosphere around them shift.

The heavy fog that had clung to the manor like a veil began to dissipate. Jungkook felt a strange warmth begin to settle in her chest, a sensation unlike anything she had felt before.

As soon as they passed through the rusted gates and into the grounds, something stirred beneath their feet.

Jungkook glanced at Taehyung, confusion flickering in her gaze.

Then, the ground beneath them began to come alive.

Jungkook gasped softly as she watched the transformation unfold before her eyes. The stone path beneath their feet cracked and shifted, revealing green layer of producers and delicate flowers bursting from the cracks.

Tiny white and purple flowers sprouted along the edges of the stone path, their petals unfolding as if greeting her return. The air which was once thick with the scent of damp decay, shifted—now carrying the fragrance of blooming jasmine and fresh earth.

The overgrown moss clinging to the manor's walls retreated, revealing the grandeur beneath. The house itself was breathing again after years of dormancy.

The cracked windows began shimmer with new light, and the roof that had once appeared weathered and decayed now gleamed under the sun that was slowly breaking through the fog.

A gentle breeze picked up, rustling the leaves and sending a cascade of butterflies fluttering around them, their wings glowing in the new sunlight. The scent of fresh flowers filled the air, and birds that had long abandoned the place now returned, chirping in the trees above them.

Jungkook blinked, her eyes wide in disbelief, as the transformation unfolded before her.

"W-what's happening?"

Jungkook took a shaky step forward, barely aware of the way the flowers bloom in her wake, as though recognizing their lost heir.

"The house is responding to you," Taehyung murmured.

Jungkook turned to him, wide-eyed. "Responding?" she echoed, her fingers tightening around his.

He nodded, his gaze flickering around the mansion's awakening beauty. "This place has been waiting for you," he said. "For its true mistress to return."

Taehyung smiled softly, his gaze never leaving the manor as the once-dead landscape came to life around them.

"This manor... it was never just a house. It was built on more than just stone and brick. It's tied to your family's legacy, Jungkook. Your blood, your spirit, your connection to this place."

Jungkook's breath caught in her throat as she slowly understood. The magic of the manor, the essence of her family's history, had been dormant for years—hidden, waiting for the right moment, the right person to return.

And now, it was responding to her, to the rightful heir.

The sunlight grew warmer, brighter, flooding the grounds with golden light. The manor which was once ghostly and abandoned, now stood tall and majestic.

Jungkook stood frozen in awe, her heart swelling as she registered the sight before her. The past was no longer a memory of loss, but a promise of something greater.

The manor had been restored, not just by magic but by the connection she held with it.

She turned slowly, taking it all in—the ruins had become beauty.

Taehyung's hand was warm in hers, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. His gaze was fixed on her, watching her lips parted slightly in awe, her fingers twitched as if itching to reach out and touch the walls of her childhood home.

"Welcome home, Jeon Jungkook, the sole heir of Jeon Hyunbin and Jeon Jisoo."

Jungkook's chest rose and fell, her mind struggling to keep up with Taehyung's words.

The sole heir. The only one left.

The truth settled in her bones like a quiet storm. She turned to Taehyung, her fingers unconsciously gripping the lapel of his coat. "This... this was my home?"

Taehyung nodded, his dark eyes never leaving hers. "Yes. The place where you were born. The place your parents built, ruled, and loved. And the place you were forced to forget."

Jungkook swallowed hard, her nails digging into his coat. "Why was it abandoned?"

Taehyung's jaw tightened. He glanced up at the towering structure, the windows reflecting the sky. "Because after your family fell, there was no one left to claim it. No one... except you."

Jungkook's breath hitched. She looked back at the manor, her throat tightening. "I don't remember anything."

"But this place remembers you."

And then, as if the house itself had been listening, the front doors creaked open.

Jungkook's fingers curled around Taehyung's hand, they stepped forward together. The marble floor gleamed under the soft sunlight filtering through the massive chandelier above. The air inside smelled of aged wood, faint jasmine and something else—something familiar.

The deeper they walked inside, the more the house seemed to breathe around her. Paintings that had been covered in dust now glowed on the walls. The chandeliers twinkled like stars. The fireplace in the main hall crackled to life, greeting its long-lost owner.

Jungkook's eyes trailed along the high ceilings, the grand staircase, the intricate carvings along the pillars. This was mine?

Then—her breath caught.

At the very end of the hall, in the center of the grand foyer, stood a portrait.

A man and a woman, dressed in regal attire. Their eyes were warm, their expressions proud. The woman had Jungkook's sharp eyes, her soft pout. The man—his posture, his features—there was an unmistakable resemblance.

And then, cradled between them, a small baby—barely a month old—its tiny face nestled in the arms of its parents.

Jungkook's steps faltered. Her lips parted, but no sound came out.

Her parents.

Jeon Hyunbin and Jeon Jisoo.

The frame was grand, a gold border framing the figures within. Jungkook's heart pounded in her chest as her eyes lingered on the image of the child, a child that bore her exact features—soft dark hair, round eyes and the same curious expression that Jungkook knew she had as a baby.

"Is that... is that me?" Jungkook whispered, her voice shaking slightly, unsure of what she was seeing.

Taehyung followed her gaze. His expression softened, and he gave a small nod. "Yes, that's you, Jungkook," he said, his voice low, filled with reverence.

Jungkook's fingers twitched at her sides as she took another step forward. Her gaze traced the figures—her mother, her father, and then, the baby in their arms.

Her mother's gentle hands cradled her tiny form. Her father's protective stance, the way he stood tall, one hand on his wife's shoulder, the other supporting the baby's back—it spoke of quiet strength, of a man who had built something great.

Jungkook swallowed hard, her throat tightening.

For so long, she had convinced herself that she had no past, that she had simply existed—that she had always been alone, that the life she had known had started only when she had learned to fend for herself.

But standing here, before this portrait, she saw proof of something else entirely.

She had been loved. She had been cherished. She had belonged.

Jungkook's breath came in shaky exhales, her fingers clenching and unclenching at her sides. She wasn't sure what she was supposed to feel—grief for what she had lost? Joy for the truth she had found?

Taehyung suddenly shifted. He lifted his hand, reaching out as if to touch her, but hesitated. Instead, his voice came, quiet and steady. "You were never forgotten, Jungkook."

She turned to him. His gaze was locked on hers, unwavering.

He took a small step closer, lowering his voice. "Even if you didn't remember them, they remembered you. This house, this land—it was waiting for you to come home."

Jungkook let out a shaky breath. "It feels... strange."

Taehyung's lips twitched, his voice dipping into something softer. "Strange good or strange bad?"

Jungkook inhaled, looking back at the portrait. Her own baby face stared back at her, round cheeks, tiny fists curled against her chest. "Strange... warm," she admitted, a little surprised at her own answer.

Taehyung hummed, tilting his head as if considering her words. Then, in true Kim Taehyung fashion, he smirked. "So, basically, you're saying you've always been cute."

Jungkook blinked at him. "What?"

Taehyung motioned lazily at the portrait, his smirk growing. "Look at you. Big eyes, pouty lips, chubby cheeks—I bet you were the kind of baby everyone wanted to hold."

Jungkook narrowed her eyes. "Taehyung—"

He wasn't done. "Bet you had all the old ladies pinching your cheeks and calling you adorable."

Jungkook groaned, finally tearing her eyes away from the portrait to glare at him. "Seriously?"

Taehyung only grinned. "I mean, it makes sense. You were a tiny, squishy thing, weren't you?"

Jungkook shoved his shoulder, her strength making him stumble slightly. "Would you shut up?"

Taehyung laughed, the deep rumble of it bouncing off the grand walls of the foyer. He didn't fight her shove—if anything, he leaned into it like he was enjoying the way she was slowly returning to herself.

Then, in a voice lower than before, he murmured, "I saw you that day."

Jungkook stilled. Her breath hitched slightly as she processed his words.

Taehyung's fingers traced the air absentmindedly, reaching for a memory buried too deep. "I was young... but I remember it. That day, by the cruel water."

Jungkook's fingers twitched by her side. "What... what are you talking about?"

His gaze turned to her, something raw flickering behind those dark eyes. "The day you were abandoned."

Silence.

Jungkook sucked in a sharp breath, his words pressing against her ribs.

"I don't remember much, just pieces but... I was there. My father—" His jaw clenched for a brief moment. "He brought me with him. Said he had 'business' to take care of. I didn't understand what that meant back then."

Jungkook could only stare.

"I remember the wind was strong that evening," Taehyung continued, voice quieter now. "The water below looked endless, dark... cruel." He swallowed. "And then I saw you. Small. Fragile. Wrapped in nothing but thin silk. You were crying—screaming, really. The sound was so tiny, but it filled the air."

Jungkook's chest tightened.

"I didn't understand why you were there. Why my father stood over you with that... look in his eyes. But something in me told me to move." He let out a humorless chuckle. "So, I did."

Jungkook's nails dug into her palm.

"I tried to reach you," Taehyung admitted. "I remember pushing forward, trying to grab the silk you were wrapped in. My hands almost—almost—got to you." He exhaled sharply. "But my father stopped me."

Jungkook's breath hitched.

Taehyung turned to her then, eyes searching hers. "I never got to save you."

Jungkook swallowed the lump in her throat.

"You were taken away before I could do anything," Taehyung murmured. "And for years... I forgot." His lips twitched slightly. "Or maybe I forced myself to forget."

Jungkook stared at him, emotions whirling inside her like a storm. She could barely breathe. And then, after a long, suffocating silence, Taehyung exhaled and gave her a lopsided smile—one that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Guess you were always a handful, huh?" He tried to tease, his voice lighter now. "Even at one month old, you had me running after you."

Jungkook let out a shaky breath, trying to compose herself. "You're such an idiot," she muttered, voice trembling.

Taehyung smirked. "An idiot who saw you first."

Jungkook rolled her eyes, blinking rapidly. "You're making this about you?"

Taehyung shrugged, his hand lifting to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "Obviously." His voice softened. "But... I saw you, Jungkook. Even back then, I saw you."

Jungkook's heart pounded.

And for once, she didn't have a witty comeback. Jungkook turned back to the portrait, this time with something softer in her gaze.

"I guess... I really was loved," she murmured, as if testing the words.

Taehyung didn't tease her this time. He stepped closer, his voice low. "You still are."

Jungkook cleared her throat, shifting awkwardly on her feet. Taehyung had just told her something huge—something that left a strange warmth and ache in her chest all at once. But of course, her mind latched onto the most important detail.

"So..." she started hesitantly, glancing at him through her lashes. "Was I... cute?"

Taehyung blinked. Then, he burst into laughter.

Jungkook scowled immediately. "Why are you laughing?"

Taehyung shook his head, his deep laughter echoing through the grand hall. "God, I just poured my tragic, childhood hero moment out to you, and that's what you took from it?"

Jungkook huffed, crossing her arms. "It's a valid question! You said you saw me, so did I look cute or not?"

Taehyung exhaled through his nose, his smirk lazy. "Oh, adorable," he teased, eyes twinkling with mischief. "Big watery eyes, tiny pout—hell, even your cries were dramatic." He tilted his head. "Kind of makes sense, actually. You've always been loud."

Jungkook huffed, looking away. "Whatever."

But Taehyung leaned in then, voice dropping to something softer—something just for her. "For the record," he murmured, "you were the cutest baby I'd ever seen."

Jungkook's breath hitched, her cheeks heating instantly.

And because Kim Taehyung lived to see her flustered, he smirked. "Actually... I take that back."

Jungkook frowned, the warmth in her chest flickering. "What?"

His smirk widened. "You still are."

Jungkook's stomach flipped. Her face burned. Taehyung only chuckled, and this time, when he reached out, he didn't hesitate. He grabbed her hand, intertwining their fingers with ease.

Jungkook didn't pull away.

Together, they stood before the portrait once more, two figures in the present standing in the shadow of the past.

But this time, Jungkook wasn't alone.

Jungkook felt Taehyung's hand in hers as they moved deeper into the manor. Their footsteps echoed through the grand hall, the sound bouncing off the high ceilings and the marble floors that had somehow polished themselves, glowing under the golden light filtering through the newly restored windows.

It felt surreal.

Just minutes ago, the place had been a ruin, a ghost of the past. Now, it was alive again—like it had been waiting, holding its breath, until its heir returned.

Jungkook felt an eerie sense of displacement—like a ghost wandering through a home she had never truly lived in. The grand hallways, the carved wooden doors, the soft scent of aged books and fresh lilies...

It was all foreign, yet somehow familiar, as if her soul recognized a place her body never had the chance to call home.

Her steps slowed.

The playful spark in her eyes dimmed, the teasing curve of her lips fading into something distant.

Her fingers, which had been boldly trailing along the polished banister moments ago, now hesitated—barely grazing the wood, uncertain whether she had the right to touch it.

She could almost see it—shadows of a life she was meant to have. Her mother's laughter echoing through these halls, her father's gentle hands lifting her as a baby, warmth wrapped around her in ways she had never truly known.

But reality was cruel.

Her mother's laughter had been silenced.

Her father's hands had been stained with his own blood.

A lump formed in her throat.

Taken away from this home before she could even open her eyes properly. Instead of growing up in a place filled with love, she had been cast into the shadows, raised under the roof of a courtesan—a place where innocence was nothing more than an illusion.

Jungkook swallowed hard, blinking away the stinging in her eyes. Her fingers curled into her palm. A faint tremor ghosted through them.

She hated it.

This feeling of being a stranger in her own home.

"Jungkook."

Taehyung's voice was soft. No teasing lilt, no smug amusement. Just quiet, knowing warmth.

She blinked, realizing she had stopped walking.

He was looking at her—not with curiosity, not with pity but with something gentler. Like he had expected this moment to come, like he had been waiting for her to feel it.

Jungkook forced a breath into her lungs, tilting her head, a familiar smile ghosting over her lips—a mask.

"Don't look at me like that, Mr. Kim," she murmured, her voice light but her eyes still haunted. "I'm not some tragic damsel in distress."

Taehyung didn't argue. Didn't call out the lie.

He simply reached for her hand. Fitting so easily into his grasp, like it belonged there.

Jungkook's fingers twitched but didn't pull away.

"Then walk with me," he said simply, voice unwavering. "Not as a stranger. Not as a guest." His thumb brushed the back of her hand. "But as the rightful owner of this home."

Her breath hitched.

She looked at him—really looked at him.

Taehyung stood beside her in silence. He didn't rush her. He didn't offer meaningless words of comfort. He simply let her feel.

"This was supposed to be my home."

Jungkook's voice was quiet—too quiet. Almost as if she wasn't speaking to Taehyung, but to the ghosts lingering in the walls, to the memories she had never been given the chance to make.

Taehyung said nothing. He simply watched.

Watched as her fingers ghosted over the intricate carvings on the wooden railing, tracing patterns that had likely been crafted long before she was born.

Watched as her brows furrowed ever so slightly, as if searching—for something lost, for something stolen.

For a feeling of belonging that had never been hers to claim.

Jungkook let out a breath—shallow, controlled. But Taehyung could see the tension in her shoulders, the way her other hand clenched her dress as if grounding herself.

"Everything about this place feels... distant," she murmured, almost to herself. "And yet..."

Taehyung watched Jungkook trace the wooden banister with careful fingers, her eyes lost in memories that weren't hers to begin with.

"This was supposed to be my home," she murmured.

Taehyung didn't argue. He didn't remind her that it was hers now—not just in name, not just on paper. No, he had ensured that every brick, every carved doorway, every inch of this manor truly belonged to her again.

As they walked further into the manor, Taehyung found himself genuinely intrigued. Despite coming here for her, for Jungkook, his sharp eyes couldn't help but take in the grandeur of the estate, the details in the architecture, the craftsmanship that whispered of old wealth and prestige.

Everything about Jeon Manor screamed of a legacy—a legacy that had been stolen from Jungkook before she could even grasp its meaning.

The past had tried to erase her.

But she was here now.

And then they reached the library.

The moment they stepped inside, Taehyung exhaled, a low whistle leaving his lips. Floor-to-ceiling shelves lined the vast space, filled with books that smelled of history and knowledge, the scent of aged paper lingering in the air.

Sunlight filtered in through tall windows, illuminating the dust particles floating lazily in the room.

Jungkook hesitated at the threshold, eyes sweeping over the bookshelves with something between longing and unfamiliarity.

But Taehyung—

Taehyung was frozen.

Because among the many shelves of literature, philosophy, and art, there was one particular section that made his breath hitch.

Business.

And not just any business books. These were handwritten records, aged ledgers, personal notes—things that belonged to Jeon Hyunbin, a name that still echoed in business world despite his absence from the world.

Taehyung stepped forward without thinking, fingers ghosting over the spines of the books. He pulled one out, flipping through the pages, his eyes widening at the neatly written notes in the margins—bold ideas, strategies that were far ahead of their time.

"Damn," he muttered under his breath, engrossed.

Jungkook blinked at him. "What?"

Taehyung turned to her, looking genuinely stunned for the first time since they arrived.

"Your father..." He exhaled, shaking his head in sheer admiration. "He was a genius."

Jungkook's lips parted slightly, caught off guard by the rare amazement in Taehyung's tone.

"Every businessman must've known his name back in the day," Taehyung continued, flipping another page. "These ideas—these strategies—some of them are still used in modern corporations. He was years ahead of his time."

Jungkook stepped closer, peering over his shoulder.

"He was... that good?" she asked softly.

Taehyung turned to her, nodding with certainty. "That good? No. He was the best."

His tone wasn't just impressed. It was respectful.

For once, Jungkook didn't know what to say.

Because for all the pain she carried, for all the loss, she had never known this part of her father. She had never heard anyone speak of him with such awe.

And here was Taehyung looking at her father's legacy not with pity but with recognition.

Like a king acknowledging another king.

Taehyung couldn't tear his eyes away from the pages. He ran his fingers along the edges of the book, tracing the carefully written notes and the subtle, faded ink. It was almost as if the book itself was alive, holding within it the wisdom of a mind far beyond its time.

"This is remarkable," Taehyung murmured to himself, his voice full of awe. "These ideas, these strategies—they were groundbreaking. He was a visionary."

Jungkook raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued by his quiet reverence. She stepped a little closer, her gaze flickering from the books back to him.

"Why not use them for your business?" she asked, her voice soft but tinged with amusement. "You could probably make a fortune from them—after all, you are his son-in-law now."

The words came out with a teasing edge, though her eyes searched his face for the answer.

Taehyung didn't flinch at her question. Instead, he tilted his head slightly, his lips curling into a smile that was almost tender. He seemed to consider her words, but then shook his head slowly, his gaze never leaving the books on the shelf.

"You're right," he said, his tone thoughtful.

"I could. They'd bring a lot of value, I imagine. And yes, business is about making the right moves. But some things can't just be reduced to profit." He looked at her, the warmth in his eyes soft but unwavering.

"These books... these are more than just strategies and numbers. They're a part of who your father was. And if I took them... it wouldn't just be about business, would it?"

Jungkook felt a knot form in her stomach. She knew that, deep down, Taehyung wasn't talking about business anymore. He was talking about respect. About something intangible that wasn't for sale.

"Are you sure?" she asked, her voice quieter now, a little less teasing, as she studied his face. "You could use them to... make your mark. Secure more power."

Taehyung's smile softened, and he took a slow step toward her, his eyes never leaving hers.

"Some things are worth more than power, Jungkook. Some things are worth honoring. This... This is yours. Your father's. And if I'm going to be a part of it, I have to respect it. Respect him."

Her father's.

Jungkook didn't know how to respond. The words felt strange on her tongue. It was still so hard to wrap her head around.

Jungkook swallowed, feeling something warm rise in her chest. She hadn't realized how much she longed to hear something like that. A part of her had always felt like her father was a shadow—something distant and cold.

But hearing Taehyung speak of him made that shadow feel a little more like a real person, someone who mattered, someone whose legacy meant something.

Taehyung's hand reached out, his fingers gently brushing against Jungkook's as he took her hand in his, guiding it toward the shelf.

"Feel them," he whispered. "These books—your father's thoughts, his genius—they belong to you. Don't shy away from it."

He placed her hand softly against the shelf, urging her to let her fingertips graze the spines of the books, to embrace the history that was hers, whether she had known it before or not.

Jungkook's breath caught for a moment as she felt the worn covers beneath her hand. Her heart tightened as she thought of everything she had lost, everything that had been stolen from her.

"This place... it's yours. It's all part of you. Let it be yours, not just in name, but in spirit. Embrace it."

Jungkook bit her lip, her fingers still lingering against the books.

Taehyung wasn't just talking about property or inheritance. He wasn't speaking to her as Mr. Kim, the businessman, nor as the husband who spoiled her with affection.

This was different.

This was Taehyung, the man who saw her. The man who wanted her to see herself.

Taehyung, in his own way, was trying to help her feel what he already saw—that she wasn't just the daughter of a courtesan or someone who had been abandoned. She was more. She was this legacy, this history, and she was entitled to it.

Her chest tightened as she let her hand linger against the shelf, absorbing Taehyung's words. Her fingers brushed over the spine of one of the books, and for a brief moment, she could almost hear her father's voice in her mind, urging her to move forward.

Her fingers curled slightly, gripping the fabric of her dress.

"What if I don't know what to do with it?" Jungkook whispered and looked up at Taehyung, her eyes searching his, looking for any sign of doubt, any sign that he might have grown tired of this, of trying to make her feel worthy of what was hers by birthright.

But there was none.

Taehyung's gaze never wavered from hers. "You don't have to do it alone," he said, his voice a low promise. "I'm here. And I always will be."

Jungkook sucked in a breath.

Something about the way he said it—the certainty in his voice, the sheer audacity of his promise—made her feel like she could breathe just a little easier.

He wasn't just saying words to comfort her.

He meant them.

And somehow, that made all the difference.

For all the years she had spent carrying the weight of her past alone, for all the times she had been made to feel like she didn't belong—this moment, this—felt like a shift.

For all the darkness she had carried, for all the years of loss and pain, this wasn't the end.

This wasn't some cruel twist of fate.

Like the beginning of something new.

Jungkook took a steady breath, her mind still swirling but beginning to find clarity. She looked down at the books again, her fingers gently grazing the titles, waiting patiently for her to uncover it.

And then, she spoke.

"You're right," she said, her voice steady now, stronger. She lifted her chin, her dark eyes glinting with quiet resolve. "It's mine. It's all mine."

A slow smirk curled at Taehyung's lips—the kind of expression that was effortlessly Mr. Kim, the businessman, the man who ruled boardrooms with an iron grip and a lazy, knowing confidence.

Taehyung's smile was small but proud, the kind of smile that made Jungkook feel like she could stand a little taller.

Jungkook had seen that look before—when she did something small yet unexpected, something that amused him, something that made him adore her just a little more than he already did.

"You learn fast, Mrs. Kim," he mused, arching a brow, his tone laced with quiet satisfaction. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. After all, you are my wife."

Jungkook narrowed her eyes at him, her lips twitching as if she wanted to retort, but she didn't.

Not this time.

Instead, she simply turned back to the shelf, her fingers brushing over the spines one last time.

Taehyung watched her in silence, something warm settling in his chest. He knew something unspoken, something he had learned long ago:

the true power of the past wasn't in the things we inherit or the memories that are passed down.

It was in the ability to rise above them, to claim them for yourself, and to make them your own.

Jungkook was already doing that.

Taehyung had always known that Jungkook was more than the person the world had tried to define her as.

More than a courtesan's daughter.

More than a lost child with a stolen past.

She was this, who would one day wear her father's name like a crown—not because someone had handed it to her but because she had claimed it for herself.

And in that moment, Taehyung felt peace.

Because this—watching her take her first steps toward embracing who she truly was—was worth more than any empire, any power, any wealth.

It was hers.

And for Taehyung, that was enough.

"You look good like this," he murmured, voice low and teasing. "Like a queen taking back her throne."

Jungkook rolled her eyes, though the slight flush on her cheeks betrayed her. "Dramatic much?"

Taehyung merely chuckled, stepping closer. "I mean it," he said, softer this time. "You belong here, Jungkook."

Jungkook let out a slow breath, then smirked. "If I'm the queen, that makes you what? My loyal knight?"

Taehyung raised a brow. "Your king."

Jungkook burst out laughing. "Of course you'd say that."

Taehyung smirked, pleased with himself. "Naturally."

Jungkook exhaled slowly, glancing around the library once more. The towering shelves, the golden sunlight streaming through the tall windows, the heavy wooden desk that had probably once belonged to her father.

"I think... I'm ready to make something of it."

Taehyung's lips curled into that knowing smirk. "That's my wife."

Jungkook rolled her eyes but couldn't hide the way her heart stuttered at those words. She placed the book gently on the desk, turning to him fully. "But first, we need to restore this place. It's too grand to be left in ruins."

Taehyung hummed in agreement, pushing off the desk. "That won't be a problem. I can call in the best restoration team—"

"No." Jungkook shook her head, a stubborn glint in her eyes. "This isn't just about rebuilding walls and fixing windows. I want to be involved. I want to decide everything—every detail, every change."

Taehyung looked at her for a moment, then nodded, his expression approving. "Good."

Jungkook blinked. "Good?"

He smirked, stepping closer, fingers brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "You're finally acting like the heir you are."

Jungkook swallowed, her breath hitching at the gentle touch. Taehyung had a way of making things sound like destiny, like she was meant to be here, meant to take back what was hers.

And maybe, for the first time, she believed it.

A sudden breeze rustled through the open window, carrying the scent of rain and earth, the manor itself was waking up from its long slumber.

Jungkook glanced out toward the vast estate beyond. The gardens, the grand halls, the history woven into every stone.

A new beginning.

___________________

The back of the manor was eerily quiet, the only sound was the soft rustle of leaves and  flowing water.

Taehyung's grip on her hand was firm as he led her through the overgrown garden, their footsteps crushed the moss-covered stone path.

The path eventually led them to an open clearing. The river stretched before them, its waters glistening under the setting sun. The trees framed the edges of the scene like silent sentinels, their branches swaying gently. And then she saw them.

Two graves.

Jungkook's steps halted abruptly, her breath catching in her throat.

Her entire body tensed, a strange weight pressing down on her chest. The headstones stood side by side, partially covered by vines that had crept over them over the years.

A strangled gasp tore from her lips as she stumbled forward, her knees hitting the soft earth without a second thought. Her fingers trembled as she reached out, brushing the delicate engravings with a featherlight touch. The stone was cold beneath her fingertips.

Her parents.

Jungkook's vision blurred as tears pooled in her eyes, her breath shuddering as she exhaled. She wasn't sure what hit her first—the crushing sense of loss or the suffocating memories she never had the chance to make.

Her fingers clenched against the stone.

"T-They're really here," she whispered, her voice breaking.

Taehyung knelt beside her, his presence solid and warm against her trembling form. He didn't say anything, didn't rush her. He just let her feel.

Jungkook's shoulders shook as the dam inside her broke.

A sob wrenched itself from her throat, her forehead pressing against the cold stone. "I—I never even got to meet them," she choked out, her nails digging into the earth beneath her. "I don't—I don't even remember them."

She hated that she had no memories of their voices, no recollection of their touch, no warmth from their embrace.

All she had were a portrait and a house filled with echoes of a past she never lived in.

And now, graves.

Cold, lifeless graves.

Her cries were quiet at first but then they weren't. They grew into something heart-wrenching, a sound of grief years in the making. It tore through her, each sob shaking her to her core.

Taehyung let her cry, his own heart aching at the sight of her breaking. He placed a hand on her back, rubbing slowly. Jungkook squeezed her eyes shut, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks.

"I should've had more time," she whispered, brokenly. "I should've had—I don't even know what it's like to be loved by them."

Jungkook's fingers rested lightly on the cold stone, her touch full of longing. Taehyung's hand remained atop hers, his thumb brushing against her knuckles in a silent offering of comfort.

Then—

A gust of wind rushed past them.

The river's soft murmur deepened, the water began to swirl. A golden mist swirled above the graves. Jungkook's breath hitched.

Then, before her eyes—

Two figures emerged from the graves.

A soft glow surrounded them, their outlines were faint at first, like watercolors bleeding onto an empty canvas. But soon, their forms slowly taking shape.

Jungkook's heart pounded, her fingers tightening around Taehyung's.

Her eyes widened as she took in the man and woman standing before her. The man was tall. His sharp eyes, the strong cut of his jaw—there was no mistaking him.

Jeon Hyunbin.

The woman beside him was softer but no less powerful. Her long hair cascaded like silk, her eyes mirroring Jungkook's own—sharp, determined, yet carrying a gentleness that made Jungkook's throat tighten.

Jeon Jisoo.

Her mother. Her father.

They were right there.

Jungkook's lips parted, a strangled gasp escaping.

"...P-Papa...Mama?"

The word was foreign on her tongue. She had never said it before. Never had the chance. Yet, as soon as it left her lips, Jisoo's eyes shimmered, her ethereal form moving closer.

"Oh, my baby," Jisoo whispered, her voice carrying through the wind like a song long forgotten.

Jungkook couldn't breathe. She wanted to move, to reach out, to touch. But her body felt frozen.

Then, a chuckle—low and rich.

Jungkook's eyes snapped to her father, who was looking at her with a gaze so familiar it made her chest ache.

"Strong," Jeon Hyunbin murmured. "You grew up strong."

Jungkook let out a shaky breath. She had spent years wondering. Imagining.

What they might have been like.

What it might have felt like—to be held, to be loved by them.

And now, standing before them, all she could do was feel. A thousand words clawed at her throat, but none made it out.

Jungkook swallowed thickly, her vision blurred with unshed tears. "I..." She didn't know what to say. She had so many words, yet none felt enough. "I don't—"

Jisoo's soft laugh cut her off, her ghostly form kneeling in front of her.

"You don't have to say anything, my love." Her translucent hand hovered just above Jungkook's cheek, as if she wanted to wipe away the tears spilling down her face. "We know."

Jungkook let out a choked sob, her hands trembling.

Hyunbin's gaze flickered to Taehyung, recognition flashing through his ethereal eyes.

And then—his expression softened.

"I remember you," Hyunbin murmured, his gaze sharp as he observed the man beside his daughter.

Taehyung stiffened slightly, his lips pressing into a thin line. "You do?"

Hyunbin tilted his head. "You were a child," he mused. "Small, but stubborn. Even then, you defied expectations."

Jisoo smiled knowingly. "And now, you hold our daughter's hand."

Taehyung's grip on Jungkook's fingers tightened slightly. He didn't look away. "I do."

"You'll take care of her, won't you?" Jisoo asked, her gaze locked onto Taehyung's with an intensity that made Jungkook's fingers tremble within his grasp.

Jungkook's breath hitched as her mother's voice carried through the cold night air. It was soft—gentle, like the breeze that rustled through the trees, like a lullaby sung just before sleep.

Taehyung didn't waver. His fingers curled tighter around Jungkook's hand.

"With my life," he murmured.

Jisoo smiled, satisfied. But before she could speak, Jungkook took a shaky step forward. Her heart pounded in her chest as she looked at her mother—at her father.

They were exactly how they had appeared in the portrait. Regal. Warm. Familiar in a way that made her chest ache.

Her father—Jeon Hyunbin—tilted his head, watching her with those sharp Jeon eyes. The same eyes Jungkook saw in the mirror every day.

"You look just like your mother," he finally said, his deep voice carrying the weight of a lifetime lost. His gaze softened. "And yet, I see myself in you too."

Jungkook swallowed hard, her throat tightening.

"I..." Her voice cracked. She tried again. "I don't— I don't know what to say."

Jisoo smiled gently. "You don't have to say anything, my love."

But Jungkook shook her head.

"No," she whispered. "I do. I have to say everything."

Her hands trembled. Taehyung squeezed them in silent reassurance. Jungkook lifted her chin, trying to steady herself.

"I spent my whole life not knowing you," she admitted. "Not knowing where I came from. Not knowing why—" she sucked in a breath, her vision blurring, "why I was abandoned."

A heavy silence followed.

Then, Jeon Hyunbin took a step closer. His ethereal form didn't disturb the ground, but Jungkook felt his presence all the same.

"Child," he murmured, his voice heavy with sorrow. "We never abandoned you."

Jungkook's breath caught.

Jisoo stepped forward as well, her eyes glassy. "We would have burned the world before letting you go," she whispered.

Jisoo reached forward as if to touch Jungkook's cheek but her fingers hovered just above the skin, never quite making contact.

"We tried to save you," she murmured. "We fought for you."

"But we failed," Hyunbin finished bitterly.

Jungkook's tears slipped free. "No," she whispered, shaking her head. "You didn't fail."

Her parents looked at her, confused. Jungkook inhaled sharply, holding back the sob in her throat.

"You didn't fail," she repeated, her voice stronger now. "I'm here. I survived. And no matter what happened—no matter what he tried to do—he didn't win."

Jisoo gasped softly. Hyunbin's expression wavered, as if the weight of centuries of guilt had finally started to lift.

Jungkook wiped her face, sniffling. "And I'll make sure the Jeon name means something again," she vowed. " Our family. The legacy you wanted to build."

A thick silence settled over them. Then, Hyunbin smiled.

It was small, barely there—but it was real.

"You are more than I could have ever dreamed, I'm so proud of you." he whispered.

Jungkook bit her lip to keep from crying again.

Jisoo, on the other hand, let out a soft, watery laugh. "And here I was, worried you'd turn out spoiled." She shot Taehyung a look. "She's still stubborn, isn't she?"

Taehyung smirked. "Unbearably so."

Jungkook gaped. "Hey!"

Hyunbin chuckled, and the sound sent warmth through Jungkook's chest. "She was born that way," he said, amused. "It's in her blood."

Jungkook sniffled, rubbing at her nose. "Well, sorry for inheriting my own personality."

Jisoo giggled, and for the first time, Jungkook felt what it would've been like to grow up with her. To sit in a garden, laughing with her mother. To hear her father's deep, knowing voice giving her advice.

A bittersweet ache settled inside her. She would never have those things.

But she had this. This moment. And she would hold onto it forever. Jungkook exhaled, turning back to her parents.

"I wish I had more time," she admitted.

Hyunbin nodded. "So do we."

Jisoo looked at Taehyung then, a knowing glint in her eyes. "But you have a good man by your side."

Jungkook's ears turned red.

Taehyung smirked. "I am pretty amazing."

Jungkook elbowed him. "Shut up."

Jisoo laughed, then turned serious. "He'll take care of you," she whispered. "But don't let him take all the credit. You take care of each other, alright?"

Jungkook swallowed, glancing at Taehyung.

"Always," he promised.

Jungkook smiled softly, squeezing his hand.

Jisoo sighed, content.

"You'll live a beautiful life, my love," she whispered. "And one day... when it's time... we'll see each other again."

Jungkook's breath hitched.

Hyunbin stepped forward one last time, pressing an invisible kiss to her forehead. "We love you, Jungkook," he murmured. "We always have."

And with that, they began to fade.

Jungkook's fingers trembled, gripping onto Taehyung as she watched them disappear into the wind, their presence lingering even as their forms vanished.

For a long time, Jungkook didn't move. She sat there, staring at the now-empty space where her parents had been, the silence around them so heavy it felt like the air itself was mourning. The ache in her chest wasn't something she could put into words—grief, longing, love, all tangled together into something indescribable.

The wind ruffled her hair. The river whispered against the shore.

Taehyung was still beside her. He hadn't let go of her hand. It was him who finally broke the silence.

"You okay?"

It was a simple question, but it unraveled something inside her.

Jungkook took a slow breath, her fingers tightening around his.

"I don't know," she admitted. "I thought... I thought I'd feel more at peace after meeting them. But now..." She exhaled, shaking her head. "Now I just miss them more."

Taehyung hummed, nodding as if he understood. And maybe he did.

Because instead of empty reassurances, instead of telling her that it would be okay, he simply pulled her closer. Just enough that she could lean into him if she wanted to.

Jungkook did. She sighed into his warmth, her forehead resting lightly against his shoulder. The river continued its gentle song, the sound of flowing water filling the silence between them.

Then, quietly, Taehyung spoke. "You know... I think they were watching over you all this time."

Jungkook blinked, her head still against him. She didn't say anything, but Taehyung continued, his voice softer now.

"Think about it," he murmured. "You could've been lost that day. No one should've found you." He swallowed. "But you did. Someone did."

Jungkook knew what he meant.

Somewhere, in the back of her mind, she had always wondered why she had been saved. Why she had been abandoned by one father, only to be found again.

"You don't think it was just a coincidence?" she asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Taehyung shook his head.

"No," he said simply. "I think they wanted you to live."

Jungkook closed her eyes, breathing through the lump in her throat. That thought—her parents, in whatever afterlife they had found, choosing for her to stay, making sure she survived—it did something to her.

Made her feel less alone. Less abandoned.

Eventually, Taehyung spoke again.

"You know," he started, his voice quieter now, "I used to dream about that day."

Jungkook turned to him. Taehyung's gaze was on the water, his expression unreadable.

"I was only a kid," he continued. "But I remembered the river. The feeling of cold water against my hands. The weight of something slipping away." His jaw clenched slightly. "I never remembered your face. But I remembered trying."

Jungkook's heart clenched.

"You were just a child," she whispered.

Taehyung huffed a small laugh. "Didn't stop me from feeling guilty."

Jungkook frowned. "Guilty?"

"For not being strong enough to pull you out." He exhaled. "I didn't know you were saved until years later. But before that, I used to wake up thinking—'what if I had been faster?'"

Jungkook stared at him, something heavy settling in her chest. She had never known. Never even considered that someone—this boy, this man—had carried the weight of her life on his shoulders for so long.

Carefully, Jungkook reached for his hand, their fingers intertwining without hesitation.

"You were a child," she repeated, firmer this time. "And you tried." She squeezed his hand. "That's all that matters."

Taehyung glanced at her, something flickering behind his eyes. Jungkook didn't look away.

"You tried," she said again, softer now. "And because of that, I'm here."

A slow breath escaped him, as if he had been holding it in for years. Finally, Taehyung nodded. For a moment, they just stood there, hands clasped together, staring out at the water. Then, after a long silence, Jungkook whispered,

"I wish they could've stayed longer."

"They never really left."

Jungkook inhaled sharply. And as the wind curled around them, the river murmuring softly at their feet, she thought—

Maybe he was right.

Jungkook let the moment settle. Let the grief pass. And then, slowly, she smiled.

"I think they'd like you," she murmured, nudging him lightly.

Taehyung huffed. "Like? They adored me."

Jungkook scoffed, giving Taehyung a side-eye. "Adored? You spoke to them for, what, fifteen minutes?"

Taehyung shrugged, looking completely unbothered. "Fifteen minutes was enough. Your mom literally said she trusts me. Your dad didn't threaten me—do you know how rare that is? That's basically a blessing."

Jungkook rolled her eyes but her laughter was soft. She turned back toward the manor, squeezing his hand.

"Let's go home."

Just as they took their first step away from the graves, a breeze rustled through the trees. It wasn't harsh or cold; it was gentle, carrying with it the scent of blooming flowers.

Jungkook gasped softly as petals began to fall from the sky.

White lilies. Cherry blossoms. Daisies.

Soft, delicate flowers rained down on them, swirling in the air like a blessing. Some landed in her hair, others brushed against her cheeks and when she glanced at Taehyung, she found him looking up, his lips parting slightly in awe.

Jungkook swallowed hard.

"They..." Her voice wavered. "They sent us flowers."

Taehyung's gaze lowered to hers, and when he spoke. "A goodbye," he murmured. "And a blessing."

Jungkook blinked rapidly, emotions swelling in her chest.

She closed her eyes for a moment, letting the petals touch her skin, feeling the love in them.

Thank you, she thought.

And then, she heard a faint whisper—one that made her heart clench and soothe at the same time.

"Be happy, our little star."

Jungkook opened her eyes, tears brimming but not falling. A soft smile broke across her lips. She turned back toward the manor, squeezing Taehyung's hand.

"Let's go."

Taehyung smiled, his free hand reaching up to pluck a petal from her hair. He twirled it between his fingers before tucking it behind her ear.

"Yeah," he murmured. "Let's go."

The couple walked away. The flowers continued to fall, brushing against Jungkook's cheeks, tangling in her hair, and settling onto Taehyung's broad shoulders. Jungkook felt the warmth of Taehyung's palm against hers, his thumb tracing lazy circles over her skin.

She glanced sideways at him, catching the way the moonlight cast shadows along his jawline, the way his lips curved—not quite a smile, but something gentler. Something meant just for her.

Jungkook paused, glancing over her shoulder one last time. The river glistened beneath the stars, the gravestones standing tall yet peaceful. The flowers had settled over them like a quiet offering, their petals catching in the wind and floating toward the water.

She exhaled, her heart steady.

"They're happy now," she murmured.

Taehyung followed her gaze, then nodded. "Yeah. They are."

A cool breeze swept through, rustling the ivy along the manor's walls, as if the house itself had come alive to welcome its lost heir.

Jungkook turned back toward it, lifting her chin.

The past had been grieved.

Now, it was time to live.

With Taehyung beside her, she stepped forward, leaving behind the sorrow and walking toward the future.

As the couple disappeared out of the manor, the old souls left behind watched in silence. Jisoo turned to Hyunbin, her fingers brushing against the petals that had settled over their graves. The flowers glowed faintly in the moonlight, a final gift to their daughter.

"She's not alone anymore," Jisoo whispered, her voice soft with relief.

"No, she isn't." His gaze followed the path Jungkook and Taehyung had taken, a small smile tugging at his lips. "He's good for her. Fierce but soft where it matters."

Jisoo hummed. "Reminds me of someone I knew."

Hyunbin scoffed, but there was no real bite to it. "You mean you?"

Jisoo laughed, the sound blending into the rustling leaves. She turned to face the river, its surface smooth, the water flowing endlessly, undisturbed.

"We waited long enough," she murmured, her voice carrying the weight of years.

Hyunbin reached for her hand, intertwining their fingers. The mist around them began to fade, the air growing lighter.

"Yes," he agreed, watching as their bodies grew translucent, the golden glow around them fading into the night.

With one last look at the home they had left behind—the home that was no longer haunted by sorrow—the old couple smiled.

And then, at last, they rested in peace.

_____________

🥀 The End!
Thank you for this beautiful journey.