"Jimin? Earth to Jimin!" exclaimed Taemin, his teammate, waving his hands at him. Jimin snapped out of his trance as he finally looked at him, who was flailing his arms, and the ball, passing his face by centimeters.

"Stop zoning out and focus on the game," Taemin yelled, blocking his opponent.

On the court, all kinds of voices came one after the other, demonstrating the students' enthusiasm and youth. Simultaneously, Jimin was preoccupied with the girl seated on the window sill of one of the sealed classrooms.

"I'll make it up for it," Jimin sneered, turning around and sprinting towards the ball. By the time they arrived, the crowd had fallen silent as they watched the ball dance around the rim.

Jimin's face lit up as he grabbed a rebound, dodging his opponents and making his way to the half-court line.

"Taemin!" Jimin called out as he passed the ball to Taemin, who shot the ball inside the basket, eliciting a high-pitched scream from the crowd in celebration of their victory over the other school in the tournament.

Jimin almost choked on air as he came across someone he didn't expect among the crowd. Yoongi Hyung. That gummy smile warmed his insides, and he began to wave his hands at him.

Jimin felt like he was on fire as he swirled the coin in his hands and looked at the pastel vending machine that stood out against the bricked wall. He was debating whether to have his cold coffee or strawberry milk. His hands ran over the printed glass labels. He closed his eyes and guided his fingers, sighing loudly, as they would decide its fate.

His breath caught in his throat as he felt a hand on his, guiding them, followed by a thumping sound. When he realized it was Yoongi, his cheeks flushed red like the dabbed rose petals.

"I was helping you make the decision. You appeared to be struggling with it," Yoongi said with a peachy-lips smile.

****

The rest of the ride was quiet. Jimin sat there, mindlessly staring out the window, while Yoongi drove, humming a song.

"Where are we going?" Jimin suddenly inquired, becoming aware of his surroundings, which he found unfamiliar.

"Dongsung Arts Hall. Do you recall the letter we sent them two days ago? They responded by inviting us to attend one of their lectures," Yoongi replied, a smile spreading across his face as he watched Jimin's eye smile.

They arrived at their destination a little early, taking up the middle row. After about fifteen minutes, the seats began to fill up. As the orchestra began to play low and dark melodies similar to those heard in horror films, the lights dimmed, and excited whispers filled the audience. The hall was initially dark, but a light began to glow faintly.

"We've been dubbed demonologists," started one of them. The man appeared and stood in the middle of the podium, clasping his hands together, "We're ghost hunters. Paranormal investigators."

"NJ Brothers. But we'd rather be known as Kim Namjoon and Jackson Wang. I'm Jackson."

Another figure stepped forward. He had the face of an intelligent and kind-hearted scholar, the shy type who doesn't say much.

"We've worked on a wide range of cases involving ghosts, demons, spirits, and other paranormal phenomena. Just keep in mind that this is not a job for us. We don't charge for our services. What we do is a way of life. I've spent my entire life studying feminism and exorcism, and I've also had paranormal experiences."

"This is Namjoon, my friend," Jackson motioned to the man next to him who was paying standing beside him, all of his thoughts and care pouring out of his eyes as he smiled.

"He's a psychic, which means he can communicate with spirits."