Outside Dorm B, things are remarkably quiet.

Jungkook sits on the curb of the sidewalk, legs stretched out in front of him. Taehyung is next to him, hunched up, holding a water bottle in his hands. They're under the yellow circle of light of a nearby street lamp, their shadows casted to be morphed and ugly.

On the front steps of the dormitory, too far for Jungkook to overhear, are the soft sounds of Jimin and Yoongi arguing. Jimin sounds completely pissed, like he's unloading all of his bizarre grievances against Yoongi all at once. Yoongi's voice is pitched lower, darker. Monotonous and cutting.

Jungkook doesn't know what the argument is about.

In front of him, the road is empty. There's a row of bicycles parked along the sidewalk, but no one is wandering around anymore. Maybe because half of the world is in Hoseok's room.

Taehyung holds out the water bottle again, a silent question, and Jungkook shakes his head. His face is damp, parts of his shirt soaked - the first thing Taehyung had made him do when he'd calmed a bit was make him wash his face and cool himself down.

"You need to drink some more," Taehyung presses, and Jungkook takes the bottle from him just to placate him. He feels surprisingly calm, but his hands are still a bit shaky, and he ends up pouring more down his shirt than into his mouth.

They're left in silence again.

"You want to go back to our rooms?" Taehyung asks, still concerned.

Jungkook shakes his head. "You came here just for the pizza," he reminds him.

"I'm sure Hoseok hyung would pack us some if we asked."

That's...definitely there, but leaving doesn't sit right with Jungkook. Honestly he feels a bit embarrassed, a bit angry at himself, for freaking out over nothing. He's caused quite a scene, too, if Jimin and Yoongi's argument and the sheer horror on Hoseok's face were anything to go by. All over the simplest of questions - will you sing something for us - that he really only needed to say no to.

"Jin hyung will be upset," he reasons aloud. "We promised we'd stay for dinner."

"He'd understand," Taehyung says, but he doesn't argue the point further.

Despite his words Jungkook makes no move to go back indoors - there's no rush, really. Dinner will wait for them. The longer they delay the better - Jungkook isn't looking forward to having to explain to everyone that he's just fine at all.

"What changed?" Taehyung asks, suddenly. He isn't looking at Jungkook, staring straight into the darkness ahead.

"Huh?"

"I didn't want to ask that day, when you started singing on the phone, but something changed, right? All of a sudden, it's like you want to prove something."

Jungkook pauses, not sure of what to say. He does want to prove something - he wants to prove that he isn't as worthless as he thinks he is, as other people think he is. He's wanted to prove this his entire life, and it's never really got him anywhere.

"I mean," Taehyung starts, as unsure as Jungkook himself feels. "Jiminie used to spring up on you like this all the time. Asking you to sing out of nowhere." It took Jimin a long time to stop, really - for too long he was convinced that if he tackled Jungkook at the right moment he'd forget that he was scared and just go with it. "But...you always just refused. I mean, you always knew you had that choice. And you know Hoseok hyung wouldn't have forced you to do anything today, he wouldn't. He isn't like that. But you panicked like the world would end if you told him you didn't want to."

"It felt like it would," Jungkook admits. The feeling isn't completely gone yet - Jungkook feels like something has ended. Like a bomb went off in his head and the blown up bits haven't been gathered together. "I don't know, hyung. I just felt like...I'm always saying no. I'm always disappointing everyone."

Taehyung looks surprised, finally turning towards him. "Why would you be disappointing us?" he asks, incredulous. "I didn't go into the lab for a full week because I was scared that the phosphorous I had to use would explode - did you sit around being disappointed in me?"

That makes him smile a bit. "Honestly, if you'd told me before, I might have."

Taehyung whacks him on the head.

"Ow."

"And Jimin is scared of being alone in his room sometimes," Taehyung continues, like nothing happened. "Are we disappointed in him for that?"

Jungkook shakes his head - but these are all different. It's different to be afraid of something that doesn't mean much to you - it's completely different to be afraid of something that should be his world.

"There's nothing wrong with being afraid, Kook-ah. You don't need to prove anything to us."

Jungkook bites his lip, not sure how to phrase anything. He thinks of Yoongi, of how he'd seemed like an entirely different person on those occassions that he lost his temper, of how everything that came out of his mouth was the spitting truth that Jungkook didn't want to hear. "I'm not just trying to prove it to you, hyung," he says. "It's for me too, I think. I don't - I don't want to be like this anymore. It's too hard."

Taehyung says nothing, frowning at the ground.

Jungkook means it though - he never wants to go through what happened in Hoseok's room again. He's sick of it, he's sick of running away, of having to make excuses for himself and having other people make excuses for him. The complete terror that took him over when he realized he was going to have to say no, to prove everything Yoongi thinks about him right...

He never wants to go through that again, but what can he do?

The dormitory door slams behind them. When they look back, Yoongi is gone, with Jimin staring at the door. Strangely enough he doesn't look mad anymore, just extremely tired.

He catches them looking at him and tries for a smile that neither of them fall for. Then he comes over to join them, sinking down to Jungkook's other side.

"You okay?" he asks.

Jungkook nods at him.

"What were you arguing about?" Taehyung asks, leaning forward a bit so that he can see Jimin across Jungkook.

Jimin shrugs. "A lot of stuff. He was snapping at Hoseok hyung for calling you out and I couldn't take his hypocrisy anymore."

Jungkook frowns. It's strange, for Jimin to argue with a senior. He's always been friendly with everyone, regardless of age group, but is still extremely respectful towards anyone older than him. Taehyung is more flexible - he's only respectful until someone gets on his nerves, but Jimin manages to grit his teeth and smile even in the worst cases.

"He's older than us," Taehyung notes, probably thinking along the same lines.

"I know," Jimin agrees. "It's just...he's not a nice person, you know? He can't keep treating people the way that he does. Like they'll all just bounce back. Some of them won't."

It stings a bit, because Jimin is talking about him. Like Jungkook won't bounce back. And he means it with the best of intentions, he knows this, should know this, but a part of him is fed up.

A part of him feels like they've all universally written him off as a lost cause forever.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asks, quiet, too tense.

Jimin looks taken aback. He blinks at Jungkook, eyes wide, and then they narrow in annoyance. "The hell?" he snaps. "You're mad at me?"

The switch startles him for a second, but he doesn't stop. "Some of them won't bounce back?"

"Yeah? How long does it take you to get over it each time he talks to you? I'm the one who had to drag you out of your room after that concert, did you forget?"

His eyes burn, completely unwarranted. "And I've never done the same for you?"

Jimin's face darkens. "You're just trying to pick a fight," he realizes. "I never said you haven't done the same. You freaking beat up the guys who made me sad, but now you're mad that I talked to Yoongi? You can make me feel weak, but if I try to help you I'm the bad guy?"

Jungkook opens his mouth to argue, but nothing comes out.

"You know what people think of me?" Jimin hisses. "You know how long they talked about how I was a little princess who needed my boyfriends to fight in my place?"

"Both of you stop it," Taehyung says, harsh. "You aren't even mad at each other."

"Oh, like you know," Jimin snaps. "Like you're any better."

"Jimin, stop. Not now."

Jimin stands abruptly, pushing a hand through his hair. He's frowning so hard that his face looks misshapen. "I'm going back in," he says stiffly. He slams the door behind him so loud that it rattles inside Jungkook's chest.

The rattles don't stop, long after.

Taehyung throws an arm over his shoulders, pulling him into a half hug. "He doesn't mean it," he says quietly. "He got over that a long time ago - he gave me hell for it, but he's over it."

And that's...that's maybe what stings the most. That Jimin took it out on Taehyung, and didn't say a word about it to Jungkook. That he just let the anger fester inside him for so long, like he's done for god knows how many other things. How many times has he avoided telling Jungkook his true feelings to not hurt him? How many times has Jungkook hurt him, without even meaning to?

"Forget dinner, Kook-ah," Taehyung says, pressing his nose into his hair. "Let's just go to our rooms."

Jungkook doesn't argue this time.

Jungkook's classes are hell. Not that he expected them to be otherwise.

He isn't even consciously trying to retain any of the information - just blindly copying down whatever is on the board and hoping it makes sense to him in the future. The lecture is more like background noise, and extremely annoying at it - Jungkook doesn't care about differential equations, no matter how many different ways they try to sneak them into his brain. He simply doesn't care.

He made up with Jimin less than two hours after their argument - his friend never stays mad at him for long. Jungkook texted him that he was sorry, and Jimin texted him back that he was even more sorry, but somehow Jungkook doesn't feel like it fixed anything at all. He's still wary of pissing him off again. It's been three days, and Jungkook stays away from Jimin's floor as much as possible.

Around him, everyone is listening sincerely, save for the last row of students who are folding paper airplanes. People are asking questions, debating with the professor, taking notes so furiously that the sound of pencil scraping paper is slowly starting to drive Jungkook insane. If they don't let him out of here soon he's going to bolt - to hell with not getting on the professor's nerves, the man probably hates him anyway.

He bounces his leg, restless. Twenty minutes left. Jungkook might die.

It's fascinating, really, how dedicated everyone around him is. Jungkook wonders if there's some wiring gone wrong in his brain, if the stuff he's learning is actually fascinating and he just doesn't know how to see it. Seokjin sure seemed to like this stuff.

Jungkook is in the wrong place. He doesn't think there is a right one.

It's complete hell waiting for the bell to ring, and when it does, he clears his desk so fast he could be doing it for a living. He leaves his notes mid sentence, stuffs everything in his bag, and is the first one out the door, leaving in such a blur that he feels his lab partner staring after him weirdly.

He doesn't have class again until after lunch, when he needs to go to the lab. That gives him about two hours to spare and nothing to do with them, no one to spend them with, but honestly Jungkook is happy to just get out of the lecture hall.

"Jungkook-ah!"

It's Seokjin. Jungkook slows to a stop, turning over his shoulder. "Jin hyung?"

Jin looks a bit frantic. He's dressed in a formal, plain shirt, ironed neatly, and it looks like he's put gel in his hair to hold it into something decent. He keeps smoothening it down nervously as he catches up with Jungkook, looking extremely worried.

"How do I look?" he asks.

"...good?"

"As in, if I came to you like this and told you that I can't meet your deadline to submit a course project, would you care?"

Jungkook stares. "You can't submit your course project?"

"I can submit it," Jin says, but his voice is a bit panicky, "But my professor has just...pulled the deadline up by a month, and I can't finish by then, it's impossible."

He's never seen Jin so stressed out before. Jungkook doesn't know how to help. He knows how insane professors can be - they seem to take some sort of sadistic pleasure in playing with deadlines - but in general there's nothing students can do about it, no way to change their minds without risking their own grades.

"Which professor?" he asks. Maybe there's a hope - maybe it's someone who still has a heart.

"Sung Min," Jin says, and Jungkook's stomach sinks. He tries not to let it show on his face, but...he thinks it's a lost cause. The man is a devil on his best of days - if he finds out one of his students can't meet his deadline it's only going to soothe some horrific part of his soul.

"Can he do that? Change the deadline?"

Jin rubs at his face. "He can, because the previous date was only tentative. I thought it might be moved up or down by a week, but a month - I can't finish it, Jungkookie, I can't."

He's on the verge of freaking out entirely, and Jungkook doesn't know what to do, how to help - this is completely beyond him. "Maybe he'll change it?" he tries, and hopes it sounds convincing. "Talk to him, hyung. Show him what you're done with, and tell him how much time you'll need. Maybe he'll listen."

"Yeah. Yeah, maybe." Jin rubs at his face some more. "Okay, I'm going to go. Wish me luck."

"Good luck," Jungkook says, and really means it. He digs in his backpack and pulls out the first thing his hand catches. It turns out to be a pencil, a remarkably average one at that. A typical ugly yellow pencil. "Here," he says, handing it to Jin. "Lucky pencil."

Jin gives him a wry, somewhat amused look, but he pockets it anyway, looking a bit calmer. "Let's hope it is," he says, and then he disappears down the corridor.

Jungkook stares after him. He stares even after Seokjin is completely out of sight, and the crowd of students filing out of class replace him, and he feels overwhelmingly bad for him, and at the same time just feels bad.

He has two hours left and nothing to do with it. It isn't enough time to go back to his room and make it back on time with lunch in between.

To hell with lab, he'll just skip and go to his room.

Jungkook never actually erases the things he draws on his walls, no matter how many times he says he's going to. All of the stuff he's scribbled under his desk and behind his shelves in the past year are still there. Art of trees, forests, birds and cartoon animals. Caricatures of some of his friends. Circuit diagrams, from when he got annoyed from writing on paper for too long and decided to entertain himself a bit.

He doesn't draw today, not exactly. There's a wide blank space between his bed and his shelf, and he works at it with a ruler and a pencil, drawing straight lines. Completely straight lines. He draws them over and over again, until he fills the entire place. Then he draws lines between those lines, and when he finishes he draws lines between those lines, and he goes on and on, and will go on and on, until there's no space between any of the lines anymore.

It keeps his head empty for a while, void of thoughts. Jungkook doesn't think he can stand thinking right now.

He doesn't know how long he does this for.

The longer he keeps at it, though - it doesn't calm him down. His hands are only starting to shake more, and he needs to go find someone - he should go see Hoseok, Taehyung, someone, instead of doing whatever the hell he's doing, but a part of him is sick of bothering them all the time. He's going to be alone again someday - maybe someday soon, and he needs to learn how to go about it.

He switches to drawing horizontal lines.

There's a knock on his door that he ignores.

When he's done with horizontal lines, he moves on to diagonal ones. Something ugly is growing in his stomach, something he can't keep down much longer, and the fact that his hands are still shaking is making him so angry - he can't even draw lines on a freaking wall like a normal human being without having to go through something like this.

He throws his pencil at the ground so hard it breaks.

He's restless, so restless, with a terrible itch to do something. He thinks about his parents, how much they're staking on his education, how he's throwing all their trust out the window. He thinks about Jimin, who only ever tries to help him - who he snapped at for no reason at all. He thinks about Yoongi, of his music, of what he understood from it. He thinks of Namjoon, saying, as if he understood anything at all -

He still thinks you can change.

He wants to throw something. Hit something. Tear out his skin, scream.

He rests his head against the wall, takes a deep breath, and does nothing.

It's midnight when Yoongi catches the shadow outside his door.

There are no knocks. His headphones are on but his music is paused, so he knows that there were no knocks. His lights are all off - he works better in the dark at night - and the faintest shadow, in the ugly light of the corridor, is unmistakeable.

He wonders how many times he's told Jungkook that he can see him when he stands outside, and how many more times he's going to forget.

He waits a bit, for something to happen. For Jungkook to finally decide what it is that he wants. The minutes tick by, and Yoongi gets nothing done - Jungkook's shadow at his door is eating at him. He wants to give him time to knock on his own, but he can't focus with him there, too sure that something is wrong.

When it doesn't look like Jungkook is ever going to move, Yoongi worries that he's forgotten that he's there. He pulls off his headphones and goes to the door, opening it slowly.

Jungkook stares at him like he's a ghost.

"Hey," Yoongi says, cautious.

"...hyung," Jungkook says. He looks a mess - his fingertips coated with the grayish silver of graphite, obvious patches on his shirt where he must have wiped them. His hands are steady, that's something to note, but he still looks a bit off. Something is wrong.

Yoongi moves aside to let him in. Jungkook gives him a searching look, almost like he expects to be pushed out again, but follows him in. Yoongi shuts the door behind them softly.

His bed is a mess as usual, and he has to shove everything to one end to make place for Jungkook. He sinks into his chair, watching the boy closely as he takes a seat on his bed. Jungkook pulls his legs up, folding them, and stares at the floor near Yoongi's feet.

The lights are still off, and everything seems even worse in the eerie darkness lit up by the dull screen of Yoongi's computer. More shadowed, more twisted. Jungkook's bangs are forever too long, falling in his eyes, and for the millionth time Yoongi wants to push them aside to see him better.

When Jungkook speaks at last, his voice is quiet. "Did I get it right?"

"What?"

Jungkook keeps his eyes on the floor. "You said thank you."

Yoongi feels his stomach turn, realizing what he's talking about. He knew they'd have to have this conversation some time. It wouldn't be fair to Jungkook otherwise - he'd put too much work into that painting - but Yoongi isn't ready. He doesn't know what to say.

"I did," he manages, voice dry.

"I don't understand," Jungkook says, and he sounds strangely desperate. "I don't know what that means, hyung. Did I get it right or not?"

"Does it matter what I think?" Yoongi tries to keep his voice steady. "The idea was the human mind. Neither of us can say for sure if it was right or not - the rest of the world would have to decide."

"It wasn't the human mind," Jungkook says, and he's too intense. Too intense. "It was yours. It was yours, right?"

Yoongi bites his lip. "Technically - mine is the only one I know, so - "

"So did I get it right?" Jungkook presses, and Yoongi has never seen him like this. Like there's something feverish threatening to break out of him - like he needs to know.

He can't speak for a long while.

"You did," he says at last, not as steady as he would have liked. "You did. It was...incredible."

Jungkook slumps forward a bit, the tension in his body lessening. Finally, he looks up at Yoongi, and Yoongi almost wishes he didn't. He doesn't know what to do with this amount of attention.

Jungkook's eyes are steely, determined - the precise opposite of everything he's ever accused the younger of being, and they seem to bore through him.

"Jungkook," he tries slowly. He wants to look away, but something tells him he shouldn't. "Why did you come here?"

"Do you think I can change, hyung?" Jungkook asks, out of nowhere.

"...what?"

"You kept saying I never tried. You said I didn't care enough. And honestly maybe I don't, maybe I don't care as much as you, but I don't want to be like this anymore. I can't."

The guilt hits him hard. He'd dared to hope, shamelessly, that Jungkook would have forgotten the things he'd said - that brushing over it and pretending that it never happened would somehow lessen its importance. But of course Jungkook didn't forget - of course he's still destroying himself over it. Jimin had given Yoongi hell about it just a few days ago, during the disaster at Jin's dorm.

All Yoongi has ever done is push Jungkook around, taunt him when he didn't deserve it - all because of his own issues. He thought that the fact that he was trying to follow a passion somehow made him a bit better, somehow meant there was still hope for him in this darkened world - and he still hopes it does, because if not, then there's no point to anything, is there?

"Do you think I can change?" Jungkook stresses, more feverish.

"What does it matter?" Yoongi tries. This isn't right - Yoongi's views shouldn't have any influence here. He doesn't have the right to judge anything more about Jungkook's life, he owes him this at least. "What does it matter what I think, why are you asking me these things? It's up to you."

Jungkook shakes his head, once, twice, and then he keeps shaking it, like he's had a horrible thought that he needs to get rid of. He looks angry, and Yoongi doesn't know what to say.

"That never mattered to you before," Jungkook snaps. "It didn't matter when all you did was tell me that I was useless and good for nothing, but now suddenly when you could say something positive, it's all up to me? That didn't occur to you before? That doesn't occur to you when you go into an entire auditorium and make the whole room want to kill themselves?"

"I don't mean to - " he cuts himself off, because there's no truth in it. The truth is that Hoseok has always been right about him - sometimes he does make music to hurt people. Sometimes he wants to show everyone that the world they believe in is wrong, that the hope they're waiting for will never turn up, and that they're all delusional, even if they don't know it yet. But he's trying not to be like that anymore, he's starting to understand that everyone is as scared as he is, and that the least Yoongi can do is to avoid making things worse.

"It doesn't matter what I think," he repeats slowly, "I've told you this before - I'm the last person whose words you should take to heart."

"You aren't," Jungkook says, and it startles him. "You aren't, hyung, because you get it. You know how...how black everything is. You know."

Yoongi says nothing. He realizes that - that Jungkook doesn't expect him to tell him that he can change at all. He expects him to tell him that he can't, to validate whatever horrible spiral he's fallen into. That's why he's come to him - because he thinks Yoongi will tell him the truth, and he thinks that the truth is that he's doomed.

"Honestly, Jungkook?" he starts, and his voice is dry. He's hyperaware of all the ways he could mess this up even more than he has already. "I think you've already changed a lot."

And that's - the truth. The kid in front of him isn't the same person he met all those months ago - he never would have found that kid singing alone on the roof. That kid never would have come into Yoongi's room and snapped at him, and actually told him what he felt. Whatever has been happening in Jungkook's head recently is...a total mess, granted, but it's got him somewhere, somewhere closer to wherever it is that he wants to be.

"I'm still so scared," Jungkook says, almost to himself.

"We all are," Yoongi says. Sometimes he can't even get up in the mornings, sometimes he can't bring himself to move, because he's so freaking paralysed by it all.

"I don't - I don't want to be."

"Okay," Yoongi says. "Okay."

He reaches out slowly, hesitant, sure he's going to be pushed away, but Jungkook doesn't stop him. Yoongi takes one of his hands in his and links their fingers together. Jungkook's hands are smaller than his, even though he's taller, and they're warm and soft and nothing like his own. The graphite stains spread onto Yoongi's when he touches his fingertips.

They sit like that for too long, holding hands in the dark, in the middle of the night.

"Hyung?" Jungkook says at last.

"Yeah?"

"I don't know what to do."

And every dark part of Yoongi's soul thinks I don't either. Thinks, I'm the last person you should have come to. There's no way I could help you, Jungkook, I'll only make things worse.

But he pushes it all away, pushes it far, and tightens his grasp on Jungkook's hand. "We'll figure something out," he says, and when Jungkook looks up at him, he can almost believe it.