The hardest part about going home for the holidays is getting a suitcase down the stairs.

"You don't need half of this stuff," Jimin scowls, as Jungkook and Taehyung lug down Taehyung's suitcase. He has no right to be annoyed, seeing as he isn't helping at all - he's carrying only his own backpack, most of which is empty. What is a home if they won't give you an extra toothbrush, he'd said, and packed almost nothing.

"It's stuff I bought for my siblings," Taehyung says. None of the steps are the same size. It takes supreme effort and lifelong practice to not crash and die. "They won't let me into the house without it."

It's a relief when they reach the bottom. They put the suitcase down with such force that it rolls a bit into the hall, alone and leading the way. The three of them follow after it.

The taxi is already waiting outside, along with some of Jimin and Taehyung's other classmates. None of them use taxis often (money, money) but end of semester is always an exception. It's a special occasion, for one, and secondly, they get a bunch of people to share the bill.

There's a lot of chatter as everyone greets each other, while Jungkook hangs back near the steps, since he's never seen these people before. Taehyung's suitcase is lifted into the carrier. Everyone is smiling, so happy, so over exam insanity, and Jungkook really wants to go home with them all. To meet his parents and his brother and live in his own house for a change, where he knows what and who everyone and everything is.

One week. Just one more week.

Jimin and Taehyung come bounding back to him.

"Be good," Taehyung says, patting him on the head, like he's a wise old man. Or Jungkook's grandmother. "You have my key, right? Use the stove whenever you need it."

"If you get too bored call me and I'll come right back," Jimin says, with such certainty that Jungkook doesn't doubt it. He has the strangest friends.

"Don't trust strangers," Taehyung adds.

"And don't trust Min Yoongi," Jimin puts in.

They have a quick group hug, which is awkward because when there are three people hugging no one ever knows where their arms go, or where to put their heads, but it's all very touching anyway. And then the moment is over, and Jimin and Taehyung are getting into the taxi and speeding off, leaving Jungkook waving after them.

Now, then. He's well and truly alone.

It's not like Jungkook hasn't been alone before. He entertained himself for the better part of his first semester, before he got to meet Taehyung. And even after that he's been on his own often. Being alone is Jungkook's area of expertise. He can do this just fine.

In fact, this is true freedom. He can come out of his room whenever he wants and will never crash into any of his dreaded floor-mates. He can, like, roll through the corridors. Shoot the ceiling. Flood the bathroom. Endless possibilities.

He sits on the front steps, where he's never had the chance to sit before, and watches the streets.

He needs to sleep. He's exhausted - been running on caffeine and too much sugar for a week too long. He might need to sleep all vacation to catch up on what he's lost, but he takes a moment to just sit there. Just because he's never been able to before.

There's nothing new to see, nothing he doesn't see every day, but Jungkook is fascinated anyway.

He sleeps for sixteen hours straight.

When he wakes up he has a ton of missed calls - Jimin, who's reached Busan and wanted to tell him, his mom, who feels guilty that Jungkook couldn't come home, and Hoseok, who Jungkook can't think of any sane reason to be called by unless it has something to do with Yoongi. He probably wants him to make sure Yoongi eats or something.

Jungkook sets his phone back down - he can text everyone back later - and ends up dozing off for another hour. When he wakes up again, he feels like he's slept at least a year. Standing up seems such an effort. He wants to do nothing but stay in his safe cocoon of blankets forever.

A part of his brain hasn't caught up with current events yet and keeps screaming at him to go and study, stop wasting time. He spends another hour lazing around in bed trying to stab that part of his brain to death, but the feeling doesn't leave.

No responsibilities, he tells himself, trying to believe it. Nothing to do. Two weeks of complete freedom.

His brain says something back that sounds like LIIIIEEES.

He pats around his pillow until he finds his phone. There are already a ton of new notifications - just looking at them is making him feel tired. He rarely gets messages on a usual day, but vacation sets everyone free and suddenly his inbox overflows.

Jimin has called again, probably worried that he never called back. Jungkook texts him that he's alive, and well, and that he's glad Jimin got home safely. He immediately gets a flood of replies back, so he flees the conversation entirely. It's rude, but he's exhausted. He'll talk to him later.

He still needs to call Hoseok back.

His finger hovers over the call button for about five seconds before he gives up and just texts him instead.

Hi, hyung! Did you call?

heyyyy jungkookie, nothing much! hope your vacation is good so far! mine is pretty good - do you know how good my mom's food is? i'd forgotten?? ill bring you some when I get back

There's a pause before Hoseok starts typing again.

I just wanted to say, after about twenty four hours, if there's still no sign of life in Yoongi's room to please check on him? Sorry I keep asking you to do these things

He knew that's what it would be. That's fine, hyung! I'll do that, he types out.

And then, because it sounds too dead and emotionless, he adds a have a nice vacation!

He doesn't go back to sleep, but he's still exhausted all over, and just lies in bed and stares at the ceiling. The only way to solve this exhaustion is to eat something and for an energy boost, but his emergency stash of snacks is at the other end of the room, and Jungkook gets even more exhausted thinking about it. It's easier to just lie here and be miserable.

He shifts to make himself comfortable. He's lost that ideal sleep position, and has to keep shifting. And shifting. And shifting.

One day of vacation is nearly over already, and all Jungkook has done is lie in bed. If this is all he has to do to entertain himself, his one week of torture will pass in no time.

Finally, the emptiness of his stomach starts to scare him, and he throws his legs off the bed. Stands up. Stumbles. He needs to brush his teeth, he remembers. He's on vacation, not out in the wild - eating still requires some basic necessities. He makes it out of his room, into the bathroom, for once not caring that he's still in his shorts, because there is literally no one left here to judge him.

It's a good feeling.

The next day isn't much different.

He takes as long as he wants to brush his teeth, getting distracted halfway and standing at the sink for too long with his toothbrush in his mouth. He only comes to when paste dribbles down his chin and onto his tshirt. He's quick to finish after that.

He still feels so tired in his bones. Like the end of semester has sucked out all his emergency resources of strength and he needs to rebuild himself scratch. Starting with a decent breakfast - he can make instant noodles in Taehyung's room.

When he crosses Yoongi's door on his way down the stairs, he hesitates. All the shops on campus are closed for winter break, and as far as Jungkook knows, Jin is Yoongi's only source of food. He could make him some noodles, for all the times Yoongi has fed him, but Yoongi has expressed time and again his burning hatred for instant food - so Jungkook is a bit scared to risk it.

Before he can think too hard about it he knocks on Yoongi's door. Once, twice, thrice. When there's no response he lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding and keeps going.

It's strange being in Taehyung's room without him or Jimin. Awkward. Like he's trespassing.

He takes extra care to not burn anything - measures things carefully, sets a timer, doesn't experiment with vegetables. He does as the instructions tell him to and nothing else, swallowing down the food as quickly as possible. And then he's out.

Back in his room, he digs out his laptop and flops back on the bed. It's time to waste his life watching terrible dramas.

He watches for hours together, but it's impossible to get into. He's still stuck in the post-exam fever of why are you wasting time and nothing catches his interest. Nothing keeps him fascinated. He closes all the tabs and tries listening to music instead, but that just makes him restless. Why is everything suddenly so uninteresting? Did he forget how to have fun?

The thought is more disturbing than it should be, considering it's an overreaction - it must be, he always feels like this during vacations. Like he's suddenly the most boring person on the planet with a grand total of zero hobbies. He tries watching Iron Man, and then The Avengers, but nothing is clicking.

He has too much energy and nothing to do with it.

He gives his room a sidelong glance - it's positively filthy, after all the shit he was doing these past few weeks. He could...clean it up. It's long overdue.

He throws out all of his trash first. Gathers up the laundry. Puts his notes and textbooks where they should be. There are food stains on his blankets that come from letting Taehyung live here for too long, so he rolls them up and tosses them on top of the laundry pile. Then he takes his pillow cover, too, because there's no need to not overdo this.

He sweeps the floor, tackles cobwebs. Lugs a bucket full of water back from the bathroom (spilling too much on the way) and mops the floor, his desk, the metal bed frame. When he's all done, he starts to drag the bucket of dirty water back to the bathroom to pour it down the drains. He holds it with both hands, pulling the door open wider with his foot, and...

...finds Yoongi outside, hand raised to knock.

Neither of them moves for a second, Yoongi's hand still in the air, Jungkook's foot holding the door open.

"Well," Yoongi says, scanning Jungkook's room, and Jungkook realizes suddenly that Yoongi has never been here before, it's always Jungkook going over to his door, never the other way around. "You've been busy."

Jungkook must look terrible - in his shorts and undershirt, covered in dirt and sweat and nothing good. Yoongi looks like he always does - like he's just rolled out of bed and wouldn't mind going right back.

"...I guess?"

"I was starting to worry about how much your room stank."

Jungkook winces. He usually never lets it get this bad - that's for his neighbours to do. But usually he doesn't have Taehyung adding to his messes.

"Sorry," he says, unnecessarily.

"Why are you apologizing," Yoongi deadpans, and doesn't wait for an answer. "Are you hungry?"

Jungkook blinks. He is hungry - the noodles he ate was ages ago - but there's something wrong about this. Yoongi doesn't go out of his way to do these things - he'd always either text Jungkook to come over to his room or just wait until Jungkook passed by and then jump out and catch him unaware.

"Did Hoseok hyung ask you to do this?" he asks, a bit unsure.

Yoongi looks a bit awkward, and Jungkook knows he's hit the point. "He talked to you too, huh," Yoongi says. "I should have known."

Jungkook gives him a sheepish grin. "He said to make sure you were alive, yeah." And then, "Are you hungry?"

"A bit." Yoongi checks his watch. "The cafeteria will still be open, but I'd rather starve than eat there. You want to order something?" He already has his phone in hand, fingers ready to type.

"Um," Jungkook says.

Yoongi waits, patiently, for Jungkook to make up his mind. When it doesn't look like any answer is forthcoming (because Jungkook doesn't know any places to order at, or what to order - he always just tells Taehyung to get him something good and his friend takes care of the rest), Yoongi sighs.

"Pizza?" he tries.

"Oh, wow."

Yoongi's mouth twitches upwards. "I'll take that as a yes?" He types something into his phone and presses enter extra hard. There's a moment of silence as he stares at his screen. "It'll be here in about fifteen minutes," he declares at last, eyes flicking down to Jungkook's miserable state of dress. "Are you...done?"

"Yeah," Jungkook says, tugging at his undershirt self consciously. "I'll just...take a shower."

"You do that," Yoongi nods. "I'll text you when the food's here."

Yoongi does, in fact, text Jungkook that the food is there, but it's less to say come over, let's eat and more to say I left my wallet on my desk, bring it downstairs.

Jungkook's hair is still wet, but he pulls on the cleanest clothes he can find (he needs to do his laundry, he really needs to do his laundry) and just snatches up his own wallet. It's easier than having to go find Yoongi's, and, besides. Yoongi shouldn't be paying for them both anyway.

He's halfway to the stairs when another text reaches him: MY wallet, not yours.

It creeps him out enough that he listens to it.

Yoongi is waiting on the front steps, staring at his phone, while a bored pizza delivery guy drums on the handles of his bike. They both look up at him as one.

"Thanks," Yoongi says, taking his wallet from him. He counts out the money so fast that Jungkook doesn't have time to see how much it is, hands it to the man, and slides the wallet into his back pocket. Jungkook reaches for the pizza bag, and Yoongi hands it over without complaint. At least Jungkook can be the gentleman in one regard.

"I can pay for myself," he points out anyway.

"You can," Yoongi agrees, "And you will be for most of your life. Enjoy this good luck while you can."

He can't really argue with that.

"Where do you want to eat?" Yoongi asks, when they make it to their floor. "My room's a mess, and yours is too clean. We could eat in the corridor?"

"Or on the stairs," Jungkook notes, with a bit of awe. The excitement of being able to do literally anything, with no care for social niceties, is slowly returning. "Or even in the bathroom."

Yoongi gives him a flat look. "No."

"On the roof?" Jungkook tries. It's a brilliant idea. He's never been up to the roof because it's everyone's favourite spot to hang out - it's the best place to dry your clothes, has the best phone reception, and just a cool place overall. Or so Jungkook has heard.

Yoongi sighs, but starts up the stairs anyway. "You just want to make me climb these damned stairs."

"Your energy needs to go somewhere."

"I'll have you know I'm a very hard worker," Yoongi snaps, feigning offense.

Jungkook grins. He wonders when this became so much easier.

"You're an engineer, aren't you?" Yoongi realizes. "Why don't you fix the elevator?"

"...that's really not what I learn, hyung."

"Isn't it," Yoongi mutters, barely a question. Jungkook doesn't humour it with a response.

The building is ten storeys high. Jungkook isn't tired at all - he doesn't tire easily, but Yoongi is breathing hard by the time they make it to the top. Jungkook feels a twinge of guilt, but this is Min Yoongi. He wouldn't be doing anything that he didn't want to do.

It takes them a while to struggle with the rusted bolts of the door to the rooftop, but once it's open...he sees pure magic.

"Wow," he says, without thinking.

Yoongi raises his eyebrows. "You've never been here?"

"No. Too many people."

He can see the entire world from up here. The entire campus, at the very least. It's a bit cloudy, and windy, but it's still warm. Jungkook leans over the parapet in awe, trying to hold in the urge to spread his arms - he can see everything.

Over there, is Hoseok's department store. And there, Jimin's dance studio. There, the place where Taehyung likes to buy kimbap. There are other buildings further away that are as tall as this one - those are the other dorms. Even further off is the library, and Hoseok's creepy elitist dorm, and beyond it all, well beyond it all, is the engineering block. A tennis court, the football grounds. A lot of crisscrossing streets and drainage outlets. An entire world.

And there isn't a single person in it that he can see from here.

He turns to Yoongi to say something, like isn't this cool, but Yoongi isn't looking at the campus at all - he's watching the clouds. Squinting a bit, in the dim sunlight, but staring at them anyway. Like it hasn't even occurred to him that he could be looking at the ground when there's so much more up above him.

Something in Jungkook's chest does a small, quiet flip, and he doesn't know what it is.

"I'm hungry," Yoongi announces, eyes snapping back down to meet his. It ends both of their moments abruptly.

They sit cross legged on the ground, with the pizza box open. Yoongi's tastes are...sort of plain. There isn't much else on the pizza besides cheese, but then, there is very little anyone needs in the world besides cheese, so Jungkook is happy with his choices.

He tries not to eat too fast, but it's hard.

The scene is far from being picture perfect - someone's forgotten underwear is hanging on one of the clotheslines, Jungkook's hair is still dripping onto his clothes, and neither of them are doing a good job of being neat eaters - but somehow, Jungkook doesn't feel awkward anymore. Something about how the entire campus seems asleep, and how only he and Yoongi are here to see it.

It's like a time stop.

"We can do anything," he says, between bites. "Go anywhere."

Yoongi looks surprised. His pizza slice pauses halfway to his mouth, falters, and goes back down. "You mean you've wanted to?"

"...um." Of course he had. He'd thought that was the norm.

"Huh," Yoongi says, chewing thoughtfully. "That's a surprise."

The next day passes in relative normalcy. Normalcy being that Yoongi actually, literally, leaves his door propped open. So not much normalcy at all.

It's just a centimetre gap, but it's still there - and Jungkook can't stop staring at it.

It's an itch in the back of his mind for the rest of the day. The fact that he can just go and push the door open, that he doesn't have to knock and be greeted by a violent strike to his head - it's so new, so different, that it unnerves him a bit.

He goes down to Taehyung's room. Stares at the gap.

Comes back upstairs. Stares at the gap.

Takes his laundry downstairs. Stares at the gap.

Comes back up. Stares.

In the end, he settles for leaving his own door propped open. He never used to either, but it seems fair. Give and take, and all that. He leaves it open, sits on his bed, and stares at it, like it's going to somehow magically conjure Yoongi from thin air.

Sheesh, he must be lonely.

At a loss of what else to do, he tugs his art file out from under his bed and shuffles through its contents. It's full to bursting with unfinished paintings. He looks at his attempt at the human mind for a moment, then pushes right past it. He isn't in the mood today - thinking about stuff like that might just drive him insane.

The view from the roof yesterday is still hanging over his mind, so he pulls out his sketchbook and art supplies and slides down to the ground.

It's too quiet, disturbingly so, so he plays some music to keep him company. Halfway through a rough sketch, the music starts telling different stories than his art is trying to, so he switches it off.

He paints for hours. He knows this because he checks. It's well past noon, borderline evening, and while he isn't anywhere close to done, the basic picture is clearly visible. He just needs to add...more of everything. Enhance and highlight. Try to figure out how to paint magic.

Taehyung texts him non stop, so he snaps a picture and sends it to him. He's the only person Jungkook feels comfortable enough to share unfinished work with.

cool! Taehyung sends back, with too many stickers. why are you so talented without me

Jungkook stares at the message, can't understand it at all, and tosses his phone away without replying.

Finally, finally, his enthusiasm starts to fade out. The sun has set, and he should really stand up and turn the lights on, but he's scared that once he stands up the spell will break. He needs to drink water, too, and probably needs to use the bathroom, but if he wonders about it for too long he will need to go, so he doesn't dare. Instead he keeps pushing through until his mind shrivels up, until the colours start looking like colours instead of miracles, and he can no longer feel exactly what it was that he wanted the painting to say.

He spreads out on the floor, content to fall asleep just there. The painting still eats at him a bit - it's missing something. It somehow isn't as magical as it should have been.

Jungkook jerks awake to a muffled crash.

For a moment he doesn't understand where he is or who he is, or even what woke him up. His muscles are sore from sleeping on the ground. He rolls onto his back, facing the ceiling, trying to remember what just happened.

Another crash, and he jumps. The sound comes from far away, passing through too many walls to scare him, but he's slowly starting to realize that there's only one other person on his floor, and that there are never sounds from Yoongi's room. Something is wrong.

It takes another crash to jolt him into action. He's up and out of his room before he's thinking straight. Once he's in the corridor it's clear where the sounds are coming from, and Jungkook's heart is going too fast, because he's never had to deal with something like this before.

What the hell is Yoongi doing?

A part of him wonders if he should call Hoseok first, just to find out what to expect - but it's some ungodly hour of the night. Too late to call.

Jungkook knows that there's something wrong with Yoongi - he's known since he first heard Yoongi's music from outside the auditorium. That image has only been reinforced the more he got to know him. The average college student does not shut their windows when someone smiles at them, or try to murder the person knocking on their door, and no normal student would risk suspension to punch a bunch of kids who didn't even offend anyone they knew.

But Yoongi had done it. He didn't know Taehyung, he didn't know if Jungkook was telling the truth - he just jumped in, punched too hard, and drew blood where he could.

There's another crash, and the sound of something shattering. Jungkook braces a hand against the corridor wall and approaches Yoongi's room slowly.

From what he'd heard from Hoseok afterwards, the fight hadn't been a one time thing. It's happened over and over, in the three years that Yoongi had been on campus. It's just another one of the many self destructive tendencies he seemed to have - right up there with locking himself up for five days together.

The door to Yoongi's room is still slightly ajar.

It isn't enough to see anything, but Jungkook can hear Yoongi's urgent, angry footsteps, and the sound of something hitting the wall. He places a hand on the door, hesitant, heart in his throat - can he really just go in? Does he dare?

"Hyung?" he tries, but he can barely hear it himself. "Hyung?" he tries again, louder.

The footsteps stop. There's a horrible pause, and an irrational terror is starting to settle in his bones, but - but he can't leave Yoongi alone like this.

Yoongi's voice is hoarse, gravelly, like someone's scratched his throat raw:

"The hell do you want."

Jungkook hasn't thought this through at all. The voice worries him more than anything - has he been crying? Screaming? How did Jungkook not hear him before?

"Can I...can I come in?" he asks at last.

"Go away."

Jungkook's inner reserves are sinking fast, but he keeps going. His hand is still pressed up against the door, but he doesn't dare push it. Yoongi's music is flitting through his head, the cutting lyrics that spell out everything that's wrong, and Jungkook knows that he isn't okay, nothing is okay, that Yoongi needs help. "You're going to hurt yourself," he says, pointlessly, into the crack between the door and the wall. "Hyung, I know you're upset, but - "

The door opens abruptly. Jungkook stumbles forward in shock, losing his balance. When he straightens up Yoongi is glaring at him too hard, too much fire in his eyes.

"You don't know a damned thing," he spits. "You especially. Of all people."

Jungkook stares back, frozen.

"You? The kid who's too scared to sing a stupid nursery rhyme?"

It stings. It's true, but it stings. It hurts that Yoongi knows, that Seokjin repeated the story - that people have been discussing him behind his back. He knows how the conversation would have gone, it couldn't have been different from that day after the concert -

I'm a shitty person, he remembers Yoongi had said that day, but then, so is he.

He takes a step back. His brain is whirring too fast, out of control.

"Are you going to cry?" Yoongi asks, eyebrows raised in surprise. It's almost mocking. He rests a hand on the doorframe. There's blood on his knuckles.

There's something terrible growing inside Jungkook's chest, clawing to get out, and he fights to keep it in. This isn't the time. Or the place. Yoongi is a mess as it is. Images fly through his head too fast for him to keep up with - all the times he's been looked down on, treated like he's somehow less, just because he's never tried to stand up for himself or tell anyone what he wants -

It's your own fault for not following your dreams. I don't know what you expect me to say.

He takes another step back, and another, trying to hold his breath.

"You think you're - " he starts, but he can't finish it, can't finish, because the words don't come to him. He's never been good with them. Yoongi raises an eyebrow, and it makes his chest constrict even more, because even at this stage, when Yoongi literally can't sink lower, when his room is a mess and there's blood on his hands - even now he's somehow better than Jungkook. He's been at the lowest but he's still come out on top, still unafraid to be himself, while Jungkook is - Jungkook is -

"I just wanted to see if you were alright," he forces out, quiet. "That's all."

Yoongi stares at him. The fire in his eyes doesn't lessen. "Mind your own business," he says at last. "I don't need your help."

Jungkook takes another step, and leaves before either of them can make the situation worse. He feels Yoongi's eyes on him, all the way to his room. He slams his door extra loud and bolts it shut, his fingers slipping on the latch because his hands are shaking so much.

He takes a harsh breath, trying to calm his nerves, calm something, but it's pointless. He rubs at his face with hands that are splattered with paint. His art supplies are still all over the floor.

There are no more crashes from Yoongi's room. At least he's managed one thing right.

He doesn't sleep for the rest of the night.