1981

The unbloomed flowers whose petals kept withering with a soft rythym, escalated into the mirrors shattering into a thousand pieces at the contradictions that were bundling up in Jimin's mind.

Why was she called the masked swan?

Questions were unanswered and it seemed like the music seemed to acknowledge his queries, beating faster. They were the beats of madness; the madness that encompassed him; the madness he was once afraid of. The solitudinal serenity pierced his heart like a fate's arrow, illusioning him in the world of beauty.

The tall buildings racked together like the uniform strips of a cloth, along with the neglected puddles in front of the houses caught him in a trance, making him to cogitate about his past in the pensive atmosphere. His footsteps made a deep impression into the muddy layers that swept the pastel lands and it felt as if he were sinking deeper and deeper into the quicksand of life.

He fastened the straps of his bag, and walked into the café, adjusting his hoodie so as to make sure that his crescent eyes was visible only to his reflection.

The café walls were tainted red, distorted to his eyes which were caught in the prison of madness. Scanning his eyes throughout the café, making sure that no one was focused on him, he walked forward and grabbed a seat at the far end, oblivious to everyone's gaze.

"Milk tea please."he ordered, his voice dangerously low and raspy. The waiter, flabbergasted at the tone, nevertheless scribbled on the torn piece of paper and scurried away like an overgrown lost puppy.

Jimin looked at the people seated in the vicinity, tapping his fingers on the table, the rythmic sound resonating through his body. Every person in the café was disturbed. Their eyes kept faltering with their lips twitching nervously. He chuckled, looking at how gullible humans were. They were afraid of fear; afraid of the silence it emanated.

"Jimin!" A chirpy voice lifted up from his trance.

He averted his attention to the owner of the voice, wincing at it's high pitch. The voice had tasted only happiness, he thought and chuckled under the his breath.

"What are you doing here?" Jimin's voice held confusion. His only pupil was right in front of him, clad in a black top and tight jean.

"I noticed you were here through the glass. So I decided to talk with you for a while,"she replied, sitting down on a chair opposite to him.

A scornful glare was etched on Jimin's face. "Why did you want to talk with me? Anything important?"

"No,"she replied.

"Then go back in the same way you entered this café,"he rasped out.

"Maybe I did want to talk with you about something,"she folded her hands.

"About what? About how to stop nosy people from intruding in my life?"he spat out, his tone etched with infuriation.

"About your attitude maybe,"she replied, placing her hand on her cheek.

"What's wrong with that?" Jimin scoffed, loathing the conversation.

"The last time I came to your class, you sent me off without my permission. First of all, there's something called consent,"she tapped her fingers on the table, copying Jimin who was doing the same.

"Consent; what a sexy word,"Jimin poked his inner cheek with his tongue. He scoffed for the second time mockingly, uttering the same words over and over again.

"Goddamit Jimin, stop being so rude,"she spat out harshly, every word coated with vile.

"If you got any problem with that, then you're free to leave," Jimin pointed towards the café's door.

"I'm not going to leave until you tell me one thing. I came here to know something about you and I'll not leave until you tell me about it,"her face was completely sober.

"I thought you were here to converse with me about my so called manners," Jimin sank into the chair, removing his hoodie to run his hands through the neatly set locks of hair.

"I know they can't be changed. Then why try?"she looked at Jimin, pursing her lips together.

"Then why did you even try at first? Stop giving lame excuses,"he took a gulp from the water bottle placed close by.

"From your eyes, I know that you want to change but there's something in you telling to listen yourself and not to others. It's the madness; the madness to know what made you a loner,"she looked intently, while Jimin avoided her eye, looking at the sky which seemed to mirror his conflicted emotions.

"What do you want to know?"he changed the subject, covering his face with the hoodie.

"Changing the subject, are we?"she smirked, priding herself at the victory.

"Just ask the damn question and leave," Jimin's voice held irritation, but at the same time, his heart ached at the truth getting unveiled. It was the madness that morphed him into a human who was against the humanity. It was the madness that took over him, ending his world in the fire of greed and desires.

"Do you know Jungkook?"she questioned, gulping nervously.

"Jungkook? Who's that? I've never heard of him,"he replied, furrowing his brows.

"His full name is Jungkook; Jeon Jungkook. Are you sure that you don't know him?"she queried again, not satisfied with the answer.

"No, I have no idea who he is. What has he to do with me?"Jimin's voice was laced with confusion.

"Maybe if I tell my real name, then you'll be able to know who he is,"her voice came out in a velvety rush.

"I thought you didn't want to tell me your name,"he stated as a matter of fact, shrugging his shoulders.

"Well, this is really important,"her voice was frantic.

"I barely know you. How's it important to you?"Jimin was completely perplexed at this point.

She took a deep breath,"You may not know me, Jimin. But I know you. I'm Areum; Kim Areum."

-

Jungkook looked at the duo sitting at the café talking to one another. It was like eating the pills of resentment and then hoping that it would kill others.

He was clad in black clothes, as if he were returning from someone's funeral. With his hands tightly clasped around the hem of his coat, he discreetly observed Jimin and the women talk with one another.

The woman's face was concealed from his gaze since she was seated facing the other side. Yet, he could make out a faint outline of chapped lips and a defined jawline.

He was listening to the conversation, just the thin piece of glass separating them. Jungkook had heard the voice somewhere, he thought. It was a fragment of a memory that would always be embedded in his heart deeply.

It was a voice not meant to be forgotten.

It was the voice that plunged him into the abyss of darkness.

It was the voice that scarred his fragile heart.

It was Byeol.

It was Byeol who was with Jimin. But then again, he heard her stating out her name.

Areum; Kim Areum.

Her name was Kim Areum, but her body and face was that of Byeol; his daughter.

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The puzzles are not making sense to me.

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A/N's note: If you didn't understand the previous thing, I had just stated that Areum was using byeol's body to communicate. So basically, Areum has byeol's face, body and voice but her identity and character.