300 years into the future, deep in the dark abyss of the metropolis, there's a little gothic hotel called the Raven, with grand chandeliers and spiralling wooden stairs. Behind the worn out but polished front counter, sits a bright-eyed youth, who watches sappy black and white movies on a small screen and waits for the customer that never arrives.

People no longer frequent AI hotels, they prefer holograms and altered realities that tamper with the mind. AIs are deemed to be "creepy", not quite human enough. JK hasn't had a customer in 50 years.

Suddenly, a man stumbles into the hotel, white dress shirt stained by bloody wounds, with a dozen gunmen trailing behind. He flashes JK a cheerful smile, as sweat beads down his pale skin, "sorry for making a mess."

"Are you looking for a place to stay, sir?" JK gets up and straightens his back, bright eyes gleaming keenly.

The man fires a round of shots and responds, "well, maybe, if I survive."

"Oh! Then could I remind you of the most important AI hotel rule -" JK hurriedly pulls up a screen from the counter, and pushes it in front of the stranger diligently, "- we are responsible for the safety of our clients as long as they are being served."

There's one sentence on the flickering screen, in bold, "will you be our guest?"

The man glances at the shouting gunmen in the lobby, and stares into JK's eyes. Slowly, his lips curl into an intrigued smile. His fingers reach to the screen and tap wearily.

As JK pulls out the guns from under the counter, and activates the automatic assault rifles in the ceiling, he can't curb the giddiness bubbling up on the inside - finally, a customer, a real human customer. It's been too long.

His name is Taehyung, a hitman, he says, some last lineage of recruits with legendary capabilities. JK listens and nods, as he wipes the blood off Taehyung's torso. He's never understood why humans pride in their skills. AIs can do everything better without even trying.
But how he adores humans, fascinated by them, because of everything they seem to feel. He would tilt his head every time Taehyung winces in pain when he changes his bandages. And one day, Taehyung mumbles about pain that's beyond the physical, an ache of the heart.

Humans no longer live and die in this day and age, their soul is digitized in a disk in their spine, a Stack. When their body is damaged, the stack is sleeved into a new organic body, some artificially grown, some used and with the previous owner ceasing to be. As a hitman, Taehyung has gone through many bodies. "Age just doesn't seem to matter anymore after a millennium or so."

"Yet your heart still aches?" JK inquires curiously.

Tae hums and looks away.

Day by day, they would talk more. JK dresses up Tae's wounds, makes food for him (with perfect precision, never deviating from recipes, to Tae's great disappointment), draws his bathwater to the perfect temperature (39 degrees turns out to be Tae's fav).
And Taehyung tells him of a person from his past, a hitman just like him, living through endless time, shedding different bodies, as their lives intertwine and separate but never become one.

JK would stare at the glint of sorrow in Taehyung's eyes, as his mumbles grow quiet, mind lost in memories.
"Do you love him? Is that why your heart aches."

"Perhaps." Tae murmurs, "it's been so long, I can't tell anymore."

"If it hurts, why don't you try to forget then? You can, right? Humans are capable of forgetting."

"Yes, but you see - " Tae's gaze is in a trance, and JK notices mist in his dark orbs, glistening dimly, in the most fascinating way, "- memories don't work that way. What hurts us the most, is often the hardest to forget."

JK pulls out the Edward Tulane book from the end table and sets it next to bed - a little bedtime reading, their nightly routine. "Interesting. I always thought love is supposed to be sweet and happy. You know, like in the movies."

Taehyung blinks the mist away and gestures at the spot next to him in bed, "I think it used to be, but humans now pay a price for dodging death. Love, hate, everything's all tangled up now, messy and with no end in sight. We have fallen from grace, but you -" he traces JK's profile with one hand, softly, reverently, "- you still abide the morals of our ancestors. you are the remnant of what was good and whole within mankind."

That night, after JK leaves Taehyung's room, he contemplates those words for a long time. It seems so inefficient, love, such a fatal flaw in the design. Yet the words linger on his mind, strangely so.

And one day, after a few drinks, something changes in Taehyung's gaze, some sort of fondness as JK has never seen before. He dips down and their lips brush. JK's eyes grow wide, "would you like me to pull up the menu of all the AIs we have for this function? I'm...more of a butler, not usually picked for um this."

Taehyung chuckles, his cheeks flushed and eyes twinkling, "it's not a function, damn it. It's a kiss. And I don't need a menu, I'd rather do it with you."

"Ohh." JK responds, his word swallowed up by the kiss.

An AI has knowledge of everything, an AI doesn't get stumped, nothing is unknown. But why, does all this feel so different, so... nice?

JK writes it off as some odd programming flaws. He's happy to be of service, happy to make his one and only customer smile.

The next day, as JK watches his favorite black and white movie behind the counter (Casablanca), and waits for Taehyung to come home, a new customer arrives. She's stunning, shiny black hair and a smug smile by her glossy lips. "I'm looking for someone, sweetheart. I think you might know where he is."

Yoongi becomes a customer at the Raven, much to JK's disappointment. And when Taehyung comes back and see Yoongi lounging in the lobby, he blanches, and JK can't quite deciphers the myriad of emotions on his face.

JK serves them dinner, in a vast room with one table, and nobody else. They talk, but JK cannot understand most of the conversation. It's as if they have a language of their own, built from all the years of memories together and apart. Words seem to hurt more than weapons, and small gestures that look so unassuming in his eyes.

The next day, after Yoongi leaves, JK would ask Taehyung, "is she the one?"

Tae nods, then adds after a long pause, "sometimes I wish he would just blow through my stack, end it all once and for all. It's like an infinite loop, us chasing and hurting each other, I'm so tired of it..."

"But I thought, you said you loved him."

"I do. That's always been the problem."

Taehyung traces lazy lines on JK's arm, eyes looking beyond him, "the shell doesn't matters, we can be anyone, yet never escape each other in a crowd. The way he taps his fingers when he thinks, the crinkles around his eyes when he's relaxed and trusting, there are too many reveries of his soul, essences that even go beyond that god damn stack." He sighs, and leans into JK a little more, "I hope this is the last time I'll ever see him. I hope, it all ends here..."

JK hopes, against all his built-in logic, that Yoongi wouldn't come back. But he does, scarlet red heels clicking on the tiled floors, whistling of some old tunes long forgotten by the world.

A relic, just like all three of them.

"I always give you a chance to tie up loose ends, make for an escape even, if you feel like it. But seems like this time, you want to keep it simple." Yoongi scans Taehyung and adds, "do you even have a gun?"

Taehyung purses his lips wearily.

Yoongi circles Taehyung and pulls out his gun, "this client wants your stack intact and brought back. You must've really pissed him off."

"Why would you even care what they say?" Taehyung reaches in and touches his arm, "a long time ago, we dreamt of this moment, do you remember? Before all the craziness, when life was still temporary and fragile. We said it would be lovely, if we could die together. Do you remember, Yoongi?"

From the side, JK notices Yoongi's lips quiver, as he lowers his gaze. But his gun stays fixed on Taehyung.

"Im sorry, but hotel rule - " JK walks towards them, voice flat but resolute, "- you can't hurt my customer."

"Sweetheart, you forget that I'm a customer too." Yoongi responds coldly.

JK watches as Yoongi's gaze turns icy again, and suddenly he knows what must be done. As Yoongi raises the gun, JK charges towards him, blocking two shots before ripping the gun out of his hands and throwing it towards Taehyung .

He sees Yoongi reaching for the knife hidden inside his shirt, and hears the blast of the gun from Taehyung's hand simultaneously. Yoongi's body freezes and sinks to the floor.

It's over just like that.

Except something is blurry. Something feels glitchy and cold, something not adding up.

His hand reaches up to his skull and feels the impact of one of the two shots he took - a jumble of broken pieces and exposed parts.

Taehyung runs towards him, with mist in his eyes, "it's ok, we can fix this. Oh god, I'm sure we can fix this."

"Don't worry, his stack is intact, Tae." JK smiles, as his vision glitched and darkens, "your love will be ok."

A sob escapes Taehyung, and as JK's mind fades into nothing, he hears Taehyung's voice, gasping between ragged breath and tinged with sorrow, "Yes, he will be. I'll make sure of it."

300 years from now, deep in the dazzling metropolis where nothing is quite black and white, there's a gothic little AI hotel called the Raven. It's long forgotten by the world, AIs are deemed to be creepy and inhuman, people have moved onto shinier and newer things.

JK is ok with that. He's happy with his one customer, who watches sappy old movies with him and complains about the lack of "spontaneity" of his cooking, whatever that means.

There's a scar by his cheek, Taehyung left it intentionally when he fixed JK. "A flaw, to remember the past by. It's what makes us human."

"I wish." Blushing is not a natural response JK possesses, yet strangely, the tips of his ears tingle.

Taehyung leans his head onto JK's shoulder, "when I was a kid, my mom used to tell me a bedtime story, of a wooden toy who dreams of becoming a real boy. And you know what she said when I asked her if that's possible?"

"What did she say?" JK listens intently.

A soft chuckle, "she said, maybe, the hope and yearning have already made him more human than he could ever be."

Deep in the basement of the hotel, next to all the other AIs that have stayed asleep for decades, there's Yoongi's stack, cleaned and tucked away. JK thinks of it sometimes, when he's pondering about love, one of the many human emotions he has yet to fully comprehend. No matter, he has a great teacher that'll be around for a while, and an eternity to figure it out.