.・゜-: ✧ :-　　

.・゜-: ✧ :-　　

In the dimly lit room of a grand, old mansion, a small boy stood trembling, his tiny fists pounding on the heavy wooden door. His cries echoed through the corridors, growing more desperate with each passing moment.

"Grandpa, please don't do this!" he sobbed, his voice cracking with fear. The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the sound of his frantic banging.

Suddenly, the boy's cries turned into a scream as he felt something crawl over his feet. The darkness seemed to come alive, and his panic escalated. The sensation of tiny, scurrying feet against his skin sent him into a frenzy.

"Grandpa!" he screamed again, his voice filled with terror. The only response was the eerie stillness of the room. His sobs grew louder, and his tiny hands felt around in the darkness, desperately trying to grasp something—anything—to make him feel safe.

His heart raced as the sensation of crawling intensified, now moving up his hand. Tears streamed down his face, mingling with the sweat of his fear. The boy's mind raced, filled with thoughts of his grandfather and the promises he had made.

"Grandpa... please forgive me. I'll do whatever you say," he pleaded through his tears, his voice breaking with anguish. He pounded on the door with all his strength, his tiny fists bruising against the hard wood.

"Grandpa! Ahhh!" The boy's scream pierced the silence as he felt the rat—a grim reminder of his isolation—scramble over his hand. The fear was overwhelming, and his pleas grew more desperate, more frenzied, with each passing second. The once-familiar mansion now felt like a prison, and the darkness seemed to close in on him, suffocating him with its weight.

Yoongi jolted upright, his breath ragged and uneven. The echoes of a haunting dream still clung to him, but the familiar surroundings of his private jet offered little solace. He rubbed his eyes, trying to shake off the remnants of the nightmare that had wrenched him from sleep. He stared out the window at the white clouds drifting by, the sun setting on the horizon, casting an eerie, golden glow over the sky.

The hostess’s voice cut through the silence. "Sir, we are about to arrive."

He glanced at his watch. Less than 45 minutes until he landed in Seoul. His fingers clenched into fists, his mind a whirlwind of turbulent thoughts. As the jet touched down, the cacophony of camera flashes almost blinded him. Yoongi's disdain for the media was well-known. He despised the invasive flashes, the constant scrutiny, and the relentless prying into his personal life. His expression remained impassive as he navigated through the gauntlet of flashing lights and shouting reporters.

Sliding into the backseat of the waiting car, he gave a curt nod to the driver. "Drive as slow as possible."

The driver’s brows knitted in confusion but he didn't question the command. He knew better than to provoke Yoongi. As the car eased out of the airport, Yoongi's mind was a storm of thoughts. The slow pace of the drive suited him perfectly. It gave him the precious time he needed to steel himself before facing the chaos that awaited him.

The mansion came into view sooner than he expected. Yoongi took a deep breath, preparing himself for the inevitable storm of emotions and encounters. The car came to a halt, and he stepped out into the grand entrance of his family’s estate. The air was thick with the scent of freshly cut grass and the faint perfume of high society.

Before he could fully prepare himself, Jungkook was upon him. The younger brother enveloped him in a tight embrace. "Hyung," Jungkook's voice was laced with genuine warmth and excitement.

Yoongi sighed, patting Jungkook’s back with a detached calm. He knew Jungkook would be the first to greet him, his idolization clear in every gesture. The bond between them was one of respect and admiration, though Yoongi was often distant.

"I missed you too," Yoongi said, his voice soft yet devoid of warmth. He extricated himself from the embrace and looked at Jungkook with eyes that held both a hint of softness and an impenetrable hardness. "Now, let me inside."

Jungkook quickly stepped aside, his admiration turning into an almost reverent deference. Yoongi strode through the entrance with a cold, purposeful stride. The sound of his boots clicking sharply against the marble floor reverberated through the expansive hall, each step resonating with a menacing authority.

The staff and bodyguards, well-versed in the unspoken rules of serving Yoongi, lowered their heads in submission. They knew the cost of even the slightest lapse in respect. To them, Min Yoongi was not just a powerful businessman but a force of nature—ruthless, heartless, and merciless.

The air around Yoongi crackled with a palpable sense of danger. His presence alone commanded fear and respect. The staff were acutely aware of the price of crossing him, a price often paid in blood. Yoongi’s reputation as a man of few words and a relentless enforcer of his will made him a figure of both reverence and terror.

He moved through the house with the grace of a predator, his eyes scanning the room with a cold, calculating gaze. Everything about him—his sharp, unforgiving expression, his commanding presence, and his stoic demeanor—spoke of a man who had everything but felt nothing. The legacy of his family and the immense power he wielded made him the undisputed God of the business world. Money, fame, luxury, and the finest of everything were his by right, and he took them with a ruthless efficiency that left no room for weakness or sentiment.

As he walked, the silence of the mansion seemed to bend around him, a fitting tribute to the man who had mastered it all with an iron fist.

Entering the mansion, Yoongi’s gaze immediately fell on Jennie, who was perched on a sofa. The sound of his footsteps caught her attention, and her face lit up with a bright smile.

"Oppa!" she called out excitedly, rising from the sofa and rushing towards him like a child. "You came back, Oppa?"

"No, his plane is yet to land," Jungkook chimed in sarcastically from behind, making Jennie shoot him a sharp glare.

"I’m sorry, what language are you speaking? It sounds like nonsense to me," Jennie retorted, her tone clipped as she turned her attention back to Yoongi.

Jungkook glared back but said nothing, his irritation evident. Jennie ignored him, focusing solely on Yoongi with a mixture of excitement and affection. "How are you, Oppa? Did you have any trouble coming? Why did you stay away for so many years? Did you bring anything for me?"

"Jennie... Jennie... Calm down, my love," Yoongi said, trying to maintain his composure. "I’m absolutely fine. No trouble at all. I’ve come here on our mother’s insistence—"

"Oh, so Mom has called you. I wondered how this blue moon appeared today," Jennie interrupted, cutting him off with a knowing look.

Yoongi’s eyes darkened with irritation. He absolutely detested being interrupted. "Jennie," he snapped, his voice cold. "Do not interrupt me again."

Jennie’s eyes widened as she realized her mistake. "Forgive me, Oppa. I was just excited," she quickly apologized, looking down to avoid his piercing gaze.

"Very well. Don’t make such a mistake again. Now, get out of my way," Yoongi instructed, his tone as frigid as ice.

Jennie quickly stepped aside, her expression contrite as she joined Jungkook, who snickered softly.

Jennie sent him a sidelong glare and whispered, "Don’t laugh too much, or those bunny teeth of yours might not survive your future chuckles."

Jungkook gritted his teeth in annoyance, ready to fire back, but was interrupted by Yoongi’s impatient voice. "Are you two coming, or do you intend to stand there all day?"

"Coming, Oppa! / Hyung!" Both Jennie and Jungkook responded simultaneously, rushing to follow him.

Yoongi took a seat on the grand sofa, exuding an air of dominance. He sat with one leg draped over the other, his posture regal and commanding. He gestured for his siblings to join him, expecting them to understand his unspoken command.

"Hey, you," Jungkook called out to one of the maids, who had been standing nearby. "Go and call Mom and Dad. Tell them Master Yoongi is here."

The maid bowed deeply and hurried off to fetch his parents. The room fell into an uncomfortable silence, the air thick with unspoken tension. Jennie and Jungkook stood beside their elder brother, shifting uncomfortably. They were accustomed to the silence that surrounded Yoongi but still felt the weight of his presence.

"Welcome back, my son," a voice broke through the silence. Yoongi turned his head to see his parents approaching. His mother, Maria, stood with a blank expression. Her flawless skin and elegant demeanor suggested she had not aged a day despite being in her early fifties.

His father, Junghoo, had a warm smile on his face, his aura markedly different from Maria’s cold demeanor.

Yoongi moved towards them, extending his arms for a hug. "How are you, Dad?"

Junghoo embraced his son with genuine warmth. "We’re fine too. We’re glad you came back. We missed you."

Yoongi’s response was casual but respectful. "I’m fine, Dad. How are you?"

After they broke the hug, Junghoo looked at Yoongi with a bright smile. "We’re glad you’re here. We missed you."

Yoongi simply nodded, moving towards his mother. Maria’s gaze was frosty as she scrutinized him. "I thought you would not come. After all, where do you care about us?"

Yoongi met her cold stare with equal detachment. "Stop with the pretense. You knew I would come if you asked."

A small, knowing smile curled at the corners of Maria’s lips. "Pretend? I was merely testing whether you’ve changed over these four years," she said, wrapping her arms around him in a warm hug.

Yoongi remained silent, accepting the hug with a deep sigh. Despite his stoicism, he felt a pang of emotion at his mother’s touch. Maria’s affection for Yoongi was undeniable, perhaps because he resembled her so closely.

She pulled back slightly, her eyes softening as she gazed at him. "I’ve missed you, Yoongi."

Yoongi’s face remained impassive, but the hint of a rare, almost imperceptible smile played on his lips as he replied, "I missed you too, Mother."

_____________

Everyone was silently eating their dinner after Yoongi came. The dinner table fell into a tense silence as Yoongi’s father, Junghoo, broke the quiet with a probing question. “Yoongi, when are you going to get married?”

Yoongi stopped mid-bite, his grip on his spoon tightening. He looked up to see everyone at the table staring at him with varying degrees of curiosity and concern. “Why this question suddenly?” he asked, his voice laced with irritation.

Jungkook, who had been trying to enjoy his meal, glanced nervously at his brother. “Are you kidding me, hyung? You’re already 31. Surely, everyone is worried about your marriage.”

Yoongi’s icy gaze locked onto Jungkook. “Did I ask for your opinion?” he snapped, his voice as cold as ice.

Jungkook felt a shiver run down his spine. He swallowed hard and shook his head, trying to find a way to defuse the situation. “N-no, hyung.”

Yoongi’s eyes narrowed, a silent threat hanging in the air. “Then correct this habit of speaking out of turn. Otherwise, I’ll have to close it for you,” he warned, his tone leaving no room for misunderstanding.

Jungkook’s hands trembled slightly, his nerves evident as he tried to steady his voice. “I-I’m sorry, hyung. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

The tension in the room was palpable, with everyone shifting uneasily in their seats. Yoongi’s presence was naturally intimidating, and his dark glare was enough to make even his closest family members cower in fear.

“Did I ask you something, Jungkook?” Yoongi’s voice cut through the silence, his patience wearing thin.

“Y-yes, hyung,” Jungkook replied quickly, eager to avoid further confrontation. “I’m here.”

Yoongi merely hummed in acknowledgment before addressing the main issue. “As for my marriage, I have no intention of getting married at this time,” he declared, his tone final and resolute. The statement cast a shadow over the room, dampening the mood.

Maria, Yoongi’s mother, looked at him with a mixture of frustration and disappointment. “Yoongi, you’re of marriageable age. Why don’t you want to get married?” Her voice was tinged with annoyance, a familiar frustration from repeated rejections over the years.

Yoongi’s expression remained impassive. “I don’t see it as necessary to explain myself,” he said bluntly. “It’s none of your concern.”

The room fell into a deep, uncomfortable silence. Yoongi’s curt dismissal left everyone at the table stunned. They knew all too well that Yoongi was a private person, fiercely guarding his personal life from prying eyes.

Maria’s face reddened with anger. “You’re being unreasonable, Yoongi. You’re shutting us out.”

Yoongi stood abruptly, the sound of his chair scraping against the floor breaking the silence. “I’m done here,” he announced coldly, his voice devoid of warmth.

Without another word, Yoongi walked out of the dining room, leaving his family behind. His departure left a trail of discontent and bewilderment, the air heavy with unresolved tension.

Jennie and Jungkook exchanged uneasy glances, both feeling the weight of Yoongi’s departure. Jennie finally broke the silence, her voice barely above a whisper. “He’s always like this… so distant.”

Jungkook nodded, his eyes still wide with unease. “Yeah. It’s like he’s built a wall around himself.”

Maria sighed deeply, her frustration palpable. “We just want what’s best for him, but he won’t let us in.”

The room was filled with a heavy silence as the family members continued their meal, their thoughts occupied by Yoongi’s latest outburst.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

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