That was another one of his nightmares where he saw Jungkook. But for once Jungkook, who had always been a child, was no longer one

Seokjin's eyes were wide and his half-open mouth, framed by his trembling lips, didn't make a sound as he navigated his nightmare. A nightmare in which Wakaï told him he was Jungkook.

 No, it was impossible, he had to come to his senses. Yet, his painful heart was pounding so hard in his chest seemed to tell him that he was already awake and facing reality. He had to find a solution. With his newly free hands, he gripped his chest with force as if he wanted to tear out his heart.

But the man in front of him grabbed his wrist to prevent him from completing his gesture. 

"Don't do that," he told him in a strangely soft voice that he hadn't had before.

Seokjin stared at him wide-eyed, still unable to utter a single sound. Was he really the boy of his nightmares all along? 

"Jin?" the wako called out, even though he shouldn't have known his name.

Hearing his name spoken in the most normal way possible in the mouth of this pirate gave Seokjin the impression of a slap which brutally pulled him out of his state of astonishment. His gaze suddenly hardened.

"Get away from me," he ordered, his voice vibrating with anger.

"Jin, are you pushing me away even knowing who I am?" Jungkook asked sadly without making any movement to move backwards.

"Shut up, I told you to get away from me!" Seokjin yelled, suddenly getting up and pushing the other away with all his might. "I forbid you from pretending to be him, you hear me?! Jungkook is dead and he's not coming back!"

"He is not dead since he is in front of you," the wako argued.

"If he's a pirate, then that's the same thing in my eyes!" Seokjin yelled, beside himself.

As he was looking at the wako, panting, Seokjin's face showed terrible contempt and hatred. Jungkook was so stunned by his reaction that he didn't try to approach Seokjin anymore. Seokjin had recognized who he was, he was sure, but instead of letting his anger and his pain finally subside, they grew and he now saw pure hatred in his eyes. 

He had been patient, he had not immediately told Seokjin that he had recognized him, he had tried to make him understand, to give him time. It was unbearable: wasn't he supposed to finally come out of the nightmare where Seokjin died? Should he now dive into another one where Seokjin was alive but hated him to death?

"Jin, why are you reacting like this? Aren't you happy to see me again?"

"Stop calling me that, you have no rights!" Seokjin roared, approaching him and pushing him with all his might until he started to move backwards and his back hit the sliding door. "Get out immediately, before I kill you!"

There was no lie in his eyes. Faced with this, hurt and lost as to what attitude he should now adopt, Jungkook slid the door behind him, still facing Seokjin and searching in his eyes for hope to cling to, something that would make him understand that the only thing the admiral needed was time. 

But that's not what he found there. He found a bottomless abyss, filled with terrifying things.

So he took a stumbling step back, then another, crossing the threshold backwards without taking his eyes off Seokjin.

As he made no attempt to close the door, Seokjin stomped forward until he was only a few centimeters from him and slid it with such force that it almost came off its hinges when it slammed against the doorway.

Left facing the door covered with a tapestry with a soft floral pattern that contrasted with the violence of the moment, Jungkook fell to his knees, prey to despair. 

He remained in that position for so long that he began to feel the pain of cramps but even so, he refused to get up. He didn't really know what was stopping him, he just knew he shouldn't. Maybe he subconsciously wanted Seokjin to open the door and see him like this? If he saw him in a weak position of repentance, would he be less virulent and would he agree to talk calmly with him?

But despite the hours that passed, the door did not open. The few servants who passed by this side of the big house were stunned to see him like this and they were undoubtedly the ones who sent Taehyung to him.

When he saw him like this, the samurai quickly forced him to get up, but his legs were so shaky that they were unable to support his body and Taehyung had to catch him before he collapsed. He was covered in cold sweat and his body was burning.

"What's happening to you?!" he sked urgently. "Why did you stay kneeling like that in front of the door?"

His captain did not respond. He was still staring at the door which wouldn't open. Was Seokjin listening? Was he going to go out to see how he was doing? Because that's how he was when they were children: he took care of him, was afraid for his health, and felt responsible for him.

But they were not children anymore. Seokjin no longer saw him as his friend who he should take care of. He saw him as his enemy, Jungkook remembered painfully as he saw the door remain stubbornly closed. 

This led Taehyung too, turning his gaze towards the closed door and he easily understood that it was the admiral who had put his captain in this situation. He briefly wondered if he should go in and give his unruly disciple a beating, but he decided based on Wakaï's state that it would be better to keep them apart.

"Come on, let's not stay here," he said, leading his captain, whom he supported to walk.

Strangely, his captain allowed himself to be led away without saying anything but continued to glance over his shoulder as he walked, until he turned a corner into a corridor and was no longer able to see the door that separated him from the admiral.

Taehyung led him to his room, which one might have expected to find large and richly decorated, but which was instead small and very plain, as he had decided since he returned from Joseon fifteen years ago. It was he himself who had taken it upon himself to destroy all the valuable objects contained in his old room, before moving into another, in the servants' wing, to the general astonishement, especially that of his father.

The life he had lived in Joseon had transformed him considerably, this was what everyone who had known him before his departure affirmed. Because Taehyung wouldn't have been able to say it, he who had only met him afterwards.

He unfolded a futon stored in the corner of the small room and unfolded it carefully before making Wakaï lie down on it, as the man, still standing and silent, was staring into space.

Then, Taehyung covered his trembling body with a thick blanket and and went to get a basin which he filled with ice water and in which he dipped a clean line before delicately placing it on his captain's sweaty forehead, in order to reduce his fever. 

After that, he just sat down next to him, his legs folded cross-legged, in order to watch over him. Very quickly, the questions he burned to ask tried to escape his lips:

"Wakaï-" he began.

"Don't call me that," his captain cut him off in a low voice.

"It's your name though," Taehyung replied.

"I don't want to hear you call me that name anymore," Wakaï whispered. "Call me Jungkook from now on. That's who I want to be."

"What?" the samurai said perplexed, "why?"

"Do you remember, when you became my samurai, the quarrels I had with my father?"

"Yes, I remember that."

"One of them was about my name. I wanted to change my name. I no longer wanted the one he gave me. I wanted him to rename me Jungkook. But he didn't want to, because it was a Joseon name, a name unworthy of our family according to him."

Taehyung vaguely remembered it, because what had at the time been perceived as a whim on his part had been quickly and brutally repressed by the daimyo Kaïto Usagi. The  lord Usagi had intended to erase all traces of Joseon from the head of his son and even from his body, since he had confiscated the rags he wore when he returned from Joseon. Nothing should remain, apart from his contempt and hatred for these people, which Kaïto had striven to instill in him.

"I remember," the samurai said, bowing his head.

"This Joseon name is mine even more than the one my parents gave me, because it's the one I chose. So call me that from now on."

Taehyung frowned and asked:

"It has something to do with the admiral, doesn't it?"

His captain – Jungkook – said nothing. Then he continued:

"Who is he to you? A memory from your past?" 

But he wondered if a memory could make him overreact. Besides, there were other members of the crew from Joseon and yet, none of them made him plunge into a sick nostalgia like that. Come to think of it, no one had ever put him in such a state. On the other hand, a situation had made it like this. A situation he hadn't spoken about since he had overcome it. And that was about his life in Joseon.

"A memory?" Jungkook murmured, his face strangely pale. "He is not a memory, he is very much alive."

"Are you talking about the admiral?" Taehyung asked, surprised. "You mean you knew him?"

Jungkook nodded and suddenly things made sense in the samurai's mind. The recent strange behavior of his captain was therefore fully linked to this Joseon admiral but it was not because he reminded him of his past: it was because he was his past.

"The people you knew and loved in Joseon are dead, killed by your father's crew," he remembered, "could it be that this admiral-"

"He survived," Jungkook cut him off. "It's a miracle I probably don't deserve, a gift from the god of sea. And I realized it too late. He had time to hate me like he hates all the wakos who sail the eastern seas, and even more."

Taehyung understood the reason for his captain's torment when the admiral told him that he hated him. He also understood why he had let him hit him. He put his thoughts into words:

"You were consumed by guilt for not having been able to protect him and even though you had managed to suppress this feeling a long time ago, you wanted to make up for him and treat him with consideration here, in your home. But despite that, he hates you and it hurts you." 

Jungkook looked up and stared at the ceiling. He then did something that stunned the samurai. He cried. Not like the child who came back from Joseon bruised and who cried uncontrollably. He cried with the humility of the cold captain he had become. A tear fell from each of his eyes, two single tears, which nevertheless had the power of two rivers. They were the expression of infinite sadness. 

He was showing Taehyung a part of his heart that he wouldn't let other people see.

"Captain..." Taehyung started, shaken.

"I told him who I was," Jungkook whispered, closing his watery eyes.

"He didn't believe you?" the samurai questioned.

"Yes, he did," Jungkook contradicted him. "And that's the most painful part. He hates me no less than the wako he thought I was. He hates me more than he has probably ever hated anyone... What am I supposed to do, Taehyung?"

Taehyung was taken by surprise by this desperate request from his captain. He was not a person of good advice when it came to feelings, as he only knew how to repress them and he had taught Jungkook to repress his own, years ago. But now that he saw it like this, he couldn't help but wonder : instead of helping him, hadn't he instead made him a time bomb? Because now, his pent-up feelings had just exploded in his heart.

"You want me to talk to him?" he asked, not knowing not knowing what to do other than get to the source of the problem.

"No," Jungkook refused, opening his eyes and glaring at him.

The sharp tone of his voice was not engaging for Taehyung and Jungkook, realizing the tone he had used, clarified to him:

"I don't want him to feel forced to do what he doesn't want to do. If he understands that I sent you to speak to him, he will be even more angry with me."

Taehyung realized that he was really worried about what the admiral might think of him.

"I understand. I won't do anything without your permission, you have my words, so don't worry."

And indeed, Jungkook seemed to calm down.

"Thank you. I'm going to rest a little now. Don't do anything or tell anyone in the meantime, I still need to think about how to approach things." 

"It's understood." 

Jungkook appreciated his first man's loyalty. He added:

"Don't wake me up for dinner, wake me up for your morning meditation exercises, I'll do them with you."

Taehyung was relieved to hear it because it meant that his captain was not planning to let himself sink. 

"Okay. Do you want me to keep the admiral under surveillance until tomorrow?"

"No, leave him alone. He needs distance from the wakos." 

Jungkook closed his eyes again and that was the end of their discussion, the samurai understood this instinctively. So he stood up, bowed respectfully to his captain, and left silently, closing the sliding door behind him.

He immediately placed his hand on the handle of his katana when he saw that someone was standing a few meters away, lurking in the shadows of the corridor.

"Yoongi," he said darkly, removing his hand from his sword and approaching him. "Were you listening to us?"

His tone was accusatory, which made the Ming soldier smile. He had cleaned his face of the blood that stained it but the wounds inflicted on him by the admiral's stitches shortly before had left traces, including a deep cut across his nose. 

"I don't have the ethics of a samurai, I listen at doors if I want to," Yoongi replied, crossing his arms.

"You don't seem surprised by what you heard," Taehyung realized, observing him carefully.

"You have a good sense of observation, I must admit. Wakaï told me everything before going to see the admiral. Or should I say Jungkook? I end up confused as to his identity. Anyway, he told me everything before you."

He seemed satisfied with this and was even more satisfied when he saw that his remark had hit the mark on the samurai who frowned. He knew he was closest to the captain but he had known nothing about his relationship with the admiral before that evening and worse still, he had discovered the truth after Yoongi.

"It doesn't matter," he claimed. "What's important is that now, I know everything."

"Why does this matter since you don't intend to act?" Yoongi replied contemptuously. 

"What?"

"Wakaï asked you for advice and you, stuck as you are, didn't offer anything useful. You're really no use."

He seemed unhappy and Taehyung felt ashamed of himself because he felt that indeed, he was a useless friend, the Ming soldier was not wrong. He was Jungkook's samurai, but all he knew how to do was protect him physically. When his feelings were involved and he sought his help, he was unable to help him.

"What would you have said in my place?" he asked, sincerely seeking the other's opinion.

"I would have advised him to let me cut off his little admiral's head."

Taehyung remained speechless a moment before saying calmly:

"Have you lost your mind?" 

"No, on the contrary, I have a head on my shoulders unlike Wakaï who lets himself be guided by his heart, right now. He doesn't need this Joseon, quite the contrary. This Joseon is making him weak and I don't want to serve a weak captain. If he is too cowardly to kill his weakness, then I will do it for him." 

The sound of metal bursting from a sheath at lightning speed was heard and in a split second, the tip of Taehyung's katana was in contact with Yoongi's throat. His gaze was murderous.

"Say that again if you dare."

Yoongi stared at him darkly.

"This is the second time today that I have been threatened with death for the same reason, because I call someone a coward." 

The tip of the katana sank a few millimeters into his throat and blood flowed from the wound. Yoongi didn't flinch.

"I will not allow you to insult the captain. Nor will I let you kill the admiral. He is the captain's dear friend."

"Otherwise what? Do you think I'm going to let you kill me?" Yoongi replied, suddenly grabbing the sharp blade with his bare hand which were instantly cut deeply, without this seeming to bother him.

Taehyung was so surprised that he didn't have time to dodge the kick that the Ming soldier gave him in the stomach, dropping his katana in the process. He grunted in pain but before he could pull himself together to face his opponent, the latter placed a bloody hand over his mouth before stabbing his katana into his right thigh. The samurai screamed in pain but his cry was muffled by Yoongi's hand. He tasted blood when his tongue made contact with Yoongi's cut flesh.

Yoongi did not wait a second before withdrawing the blade and planting it in the left thigh of the samurai who, no longer having a good leg, fell to his knees. Blood was flowing profusely from each of his injured thighs.

Feeling that he was no longer shouting but simply trying to catch his breath, Yoongi released Taehyung's mouth.

"You're yelling a hell of a lot for a samurai supposedly trained to endure pain. It seems that you too have become soft under contact with this Joseon."

"Stop... talking... nonsense..." Taehyung stammered weakly, his right hand, trembling, trying to grab the handle of his wakizashi.

"Is that what you're looking for?" Yoongi asked, showing him the weapon he held in his left hand. "You didn't even notice I took it from you, how do you expect to confront me?"

Taehyung clenched his fists, as if to show him what he was going to defeat him with and tried to get to his feet but failed miserably. Worse, this effort which made him contract the muscles in his legs caused him to lose even more blood. He was terribly pale and he realized that whatever Yoongi had in mind, he wouldn't be able to stop him. 

He was not thinking about his own life when, noticing his enemy who was thoughtfully observing his katana, he declared in a pleading voice:

"Please don't do anything regrettable, or the captain won't recover this time."

To his surprise, Yoongi seemed to think and threw the weapons on the tatami floor which absorbed the metallic noise. He approached Taehyung and grabbed his face in both bloody hands, smearing it with blood.

"I don't know what could have turned a proud samurai into into the wimp I have in front of me, but let me instill in you something that is taught in the Ming army: a soldier does not beg."

He kneed him violently in the face and dropped him, stunned, to the ground.