When Pines Bloom as One
The Scars Upon The Moon
𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝟭: 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗦𝗰𝗮𝗿𝘀 𝗨𝗽𝗼𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗠𝗼𝗼𝗻
The freezing night wind whipped through the wide cracks of the small, fragile hut. Constructed of little more than crumbling mud and dried straw, it offered almost no shelter from the harsh winter air
Inside, there was no fire crackling on the hearth. No soft wool blanket to pull up to his chin. No grand furniture lining the walls. There was only a hollow, heavy silence—and the lingering, invisible ghosts of the two people who had once loved him.
They were the only two in the whole world who had never looked at him like he was an unwanted stray.
His father had been his safe haven: a soft-spoken, steady man whose rough, calloused hands always carried the comforting scent of fresh earth and damp timber. His mother had been his ultimate warmth. Her voice possessed a gentle, melodic lullaby that could chase away any winter chill, no matter how fierce the blizzard outside.
He closed his eyes, for a second letting himself sink into the phantom memory of his mother’s hand brushing through his hair. He could almost hear the low hum of his father fixing a broken stool by the doorway.
Then he opened them, and the cruel reality rushed back to fill the void.
That small, safe world had shattered into a thousand jagged pieces the night he found their cold, lifeless bodies resting side by side on this very floor. He remembered the exact temperature of their skin when he reached for them. He remembered how the silence had swallowed his cries, endless and unanswering.
Now, inside this freezing, dark room, there was only one person left to bear the quiet: 𝗞𝗶𝗺 𝗧𝗮𝗲𝗵𝘆𝘂𝗻𝗴.
At eighteen years old, Taehyung had stopped expecting good things from the world. He had completely abandoned hope. How could he not?
In the small, bitter village of Oakwood, warmth was a luxury reserved for everyone else. If a family's hen went missing in the night, or if a sack of grain rotted in the damp storehouse, the villagers pointed their fingers at him. If the communal well froze solid during a harsh frost, they whispered that he carried bad luck in his shadow. If someone fell ill or quietly passed away in their sleep, they branded him a jinx—a cursed orphan who brought ruin to their doors.
At an age where a young ger should have received tenderness, protection, and gentle guidance, all Oakwood ever handed him were sharp, cruel names that bled far deeper than physical wounds.
Over time, he had tried to numb his heart to the sting. He had learned to swallow his tears before they could pool in his eyes, staring fixedly at his worn, fraying shoes until his vision stopped blurring.
Taehyung sat motionless on a rickety wooden chair, wrapping his thin arms tightly around his torso, trying to trap whatever small scrap of body heat remained. He stared out the tiny, shutterless window at the vast, luminous night sky above. The pale, milky moonlight washed over his delicate face, casting long, dark shadows beneath his tired eyes.
A long breath escaped his lips, rising like a faint cloud of mist in the chill room.
Kim Taehyung
"The moon is also alone..." Taehyung whispered softly into the empty night. His voice was fragile, trembling slightly against the dark.
Kim Taehyung
"...and it is covered in scars."
Kim Taehyung
*He reached out a cold, stiff hand, tracing the patch of moonlight resting on the rough wooden sill.*
Kim Taehyung
*He missed them so much it physically ached. He missed the simple, quiet comfort of his mother tucking a stray lock of hair behind his ear when he was tired. He missed the subtle scrape of wood as his father set down two steaming bowls of wild vegetable soup on the table after a long day's work.*
The silence in the hut felt heavy—an iron weight pressing directly down on his chest, making every breath feel like a chore.
The next morning, the harsh, biting cold of dawn broke over Oakwood.
Taehyung paused at his wooden doorframe, taking one deep, steadying breath before stepping past the threshold. The moment his feet touched the dirt street, the familiar, low hum of sneers and mocking whispers drifted through the frosty morning air.
Random/ Unimportant Peron or People
"Look, the lazy thing has finally crawled out!"
"He’s heading toward the market town again. Where does an orphan like him even get copper, let alone silver?"
Random/ Unimportant Peron or People
"Who knows what filthy, shameful things he does inside that rotten hut?"
Kim Taehyung
*Taehyung kept his gaze fixed on the frozen, rutted mud path beneath his worn shoes. He walked past the harsh words as if he were made of stone, ignoring every bite of malice.*
Kim Taehyung
*He knew the truth, even if they refused to acknowledge it. His parents had been hardworking, honest people. Grain by grain, copper by copper, they had spent their entire lives saving twenty taels of silver to ensure their son would have a future*
In all the bitter, lonely years since they passed, Taehyung had lived like a ghost. Out of those twenty taels, he had only spent eight.
Kim Taehyung
* He never bought treats, never bought new clothes, and never sought small comforts. Every copper was spent purely on basic grain to keep his heart beating.*
Kim Taehyung
*He stayed alive for one reason alone: the final, tearful promise he had whispered into his mother's cooling hand before she breathed her last—that he would survive. That he would take care of himself.*
Kim Taehyung
*So, he breathed. He swallowed dry rice. He endured.*
Random/ Unimportant Peron or People
"Hey! Useless thing!" A sharp, mocking voice called out from behind a wooden garden fence.
Taehyung didn't turn around. He didn't raise his head or break his rhythm; he simply kept walking, his steps slow and steady despite the slight tremble in his knees.
Random/ Unimportant Peron or People
"Look at him, doesn't even have the spirit to defend himself," another villager jeered, loudly spitting onto the path near his feet.
"Pfft, an orphan ger with no family, no standing, and no dowry. Mark my words, he’ll rot in that wretched hut until the winter wolves carry him off!"
Taehyung’s hands slipped deep into his long, faded sleeves. Beneath the fabric, his fingers curled into tight, rigid fists. His nails bit sharply into his palms, pressing until his knuckles turned a ghostly, bloodless white. He let the pain anchor him.
Kim Taehyung
[A dowry? Wealth?]
Kim Taehyung
He let out a silent, hollow breath. [What use was wealth to someone whose soul was completely empty?]
Kim Taehyung
[Even if a person possessed mountains of gold, chestfuls of fine silk, or priceless jewels, what did any of it matter when there was no one left to sit beside you when night fell? What point was there in luxury when there was no warm hand to hold, no gentle voice to welcome you back from the cold, and no reason to live beyond mere survival?]
All the gold in the world could not buy back his mother's soft laugh or his father's protective embrace.
Taehyung closed his eyes for a brief fraction of a second, burying the ache deep inside the darkest corner of his chest. He smoothed his expression, pulled his thin cloak tighter around his shoulders, and walked alone into the biting wind.
A Promise in the Wind
𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝟮: 𝗔 𝗣𝗿𝗼𝗺𝗶𝘀𝗲 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗪𝗶𝗻𝗱
As Taehyung reached the bustling market town, he kept his eyes lowered, his gaze fixed on the uneven cobblestones beneath his fraying shoes. He moved like a shadow through the crowd, effortlessly dodging the sharp, cold glances that always seemed to follow him.
Kim Taehyung
*He headed straight toward the familiar corner grocery shop—a dim, cramped establishment run by an aging merchant who cared only about the solid clink of silver coins, not the bitter village gossip or the dark rumors of bad luck.*
Kim Taehyung
*He bought a small sack of coarse rice, a tiny jar of yellow cooking oil, and a pouch of sea salt. He spent sparingly, calculating every copper with practiced precision. He didn't need to buy vegetables. Behind his drafty hut lay a tiny, fenced patch of land that had once belonged to his mother.*
When his parents passed away, the garden had withered into dust, choked by weeds and forgotten grief. But over the last few years, through his own quiet, painstaking labor, Taehyung had brought the dark soil back to life. He had dug through the frozen earth with bloodied fingers, weeding, watering, and coaxing green shoots from the ground. It was more than a source of food. It was his last living connection to her.
Bag in hand, Taehyung turned to head back to his only safe haven—his cold, silent hut.
A kind, soft voice called out, cutting through the chaotic noise of the market.
Taehyung froze in his tracks. He recognized that tone instantly. It was Auntie Su—a gentle, middle-aged woman who had been a dear, loyal friend to his mother. She was the only person in the entire territory who had ever offered him genuine warmth, often sneaking hot, freshly steamed buns to his doorstep in the dark, desperate months right after he had lost his world.
Kim Taehyung
"Auntie," Taehyung murmured softly, stepping out of the main thoroughfare.
Auntie Su hurried over, her eyes shining with an unmistakable, heavy worry. She looked at his pale, thin cheeks, her heart breaking at the sight of his oversized, faded clothes.
Aunt Su
"Tae, my dear boy... I need to talk to you about something important," she said, her voice dropping to a tender whisper.
Kim Taehyung
Taehyung let out a quiet, internal sigh, lowering his head. "Auntie, if it is about what you mentioned last week... I told you before. I don't want to get married. I am fine on my own."
Aunt Su
"You are at the age to marry, Taehyung-ah," Auntie Su urged gently, taking a step closer. She looked around at the bustling marketplace, at the people who deliberately walked wide circles around him, before looking back into his tired eyes.
Aunt Su
"And this village... this bitter, cruel place does not deserve you, my child."
Aunt Su
"Listen to Auntie, please. Just this once," she interrupted softly.
Without waiting, Auntie Su reached out and gathered his cold, calloused hands into her own warm palms. She rubbed his knuckles gently, trying to impart her own body heat to his freezing skin. Her eyes softened, coaxing him as if he were still a fragile five-year-old boy sitting on his mother's lap.
Aunt Su
"There is a young man in the neighboring village of East River," she began, her tone earnest and steady.
Aunt Su
"His name is 𝗝𝗲𝗼𝗻 𝗝𝘂𝗻𝗴𝗸𝗼𝗼𝗸. He is from the Jeon family—an honest, deeply hardworking eldest brother who works himself to the bone every single day just to put food on the table for his three younger brothers."
Kim Taehyung
*Taehyung remained silent, his gaze fixed on their joined hands, but he listened.*
Aunt Su
"They are very poor," Auntie Su continued, hiding nothing from him.
Aunt Su
"They are crushed under a heavy mountain of debt, constantly bullied and leeched dry by their greedy uncle and aunt. Because of that debt, no proper family in their village wants to send their child to him. But Jungkook... Jungkook is a rare, good man, Taehyung. He protects his siblings with everything he has, even when he has nothing left for himself."
She squeezed his hands tighter, her voice trembling slightly with emotion.
Aunt Su
"If you marry him... you will finally have a family again, Tae. They are people who understand pain. They will hold you close, not as a burden, but as one of their own. You will no longer have to face the long, freezing nights all by yourself. You will no longer be alone."
The word struck a deep, forgotten chord inside Taehyung's chest. It sounded so distant, so impossibly abstract—like a half-remembered lullaby from a past life he wasn't sure he had actually lived.
Kim Taehyung
*He had long forgotten what it felt like to belong somewhere. He had forgotten the comfort of a shared meal where laughter filled the air, or the safety of knowing someone was waiting for him at the end of a long day. Was it even real? Or was it just a cruel illusion meant for people who hadn't been cursed by fate?*
Aunt Su
*Seeing the sudden, pained stillness in his eyes, Auntie Su pressed her palms tighter around his, her expression filled with desperate sincerity.*
Aunt Su
"Please don't misunderstand me, my child. Don't think Auntie Su is pushing you into a poor, indebted home just to be rid of a responsibility. I want this for you because I know his character. He is a man of honor. He will respect you. He will cherish you. No man in this entire region will treat you better than him."
Kim Taehyung
[Respect? Cherish?]
To Taehyung, those concepts felt like distant stars in the midnight sky—stunning to look at, but far beyond the reach of someone like him.
Aunt Su
"You don't have to answer me today," Auntie Su whispered, giving him a warm, motherly smile that reached her eyes.
Aunt Su
"Take your time. Think about what Auntie said. If you trust me even a little, go to the high ridge overlooking the East River fields tomorrow afternoon. Just watch him from afar. See how he works, see how he carries himself... and then decide for yourself."
Taehyung didn't agree, nor did he refuse. He simply bowed his head in a quiet, polite gesture of gratitude and stepped back, letting his cold hands slip out of her warm embrace.
Kim Taehyung
*He walked back to his small home—a humble, rotting hut that had long lost the right to be called a true house.*
Inside, the air was cool and static. It consisted of a bare central space with nothing but a frayed, woven straw mat on the floor, flanked by his tiny sleeping alcove on the left and a primitive stone hearth kitchen on the right. He had never bothered to patch the crumbling mud walls or fix the loose roof tiles. He didn't need comfort; he only needed shelter to keep the frost off his skin. Survival was the only goal he had left.
Setting his small grocery sack on the wooden counter, Taehyung allowed himself a few moments of absolute stillness before beginning his daily routine.
Kim Taehyung
*He picked up a small bamboo basket and stepped out into the quiet vegetable patch behind the hut. The soil was damp and dark. With slow, reverent movements, he knelt in the dirt, digging out two fresh, plump eggplants and a crisp, dark green cucumber. He brought them to the stone water basin, washing away the rich earth under a stream of freezing water until the skins shone under the pale afternoon light.*
Back in the dim kitchen, he moved with practiced, quiet efficiency.
Kim Taehyung
*He measured out a single portion of coarse rice, placing the grains into a small clay bowl. He poured cold water over them, gently rubbing the grains between his thumb and fingers until the water turned cloudy, repeating the process until it ran clear. Setting the pot over the hearth, he struck a spark to light a small heap of dried twigs, watching the tiny flame catch before setting the iron lid in place to let the rice simmer slowly.*
Kim Taehyung
*Next, he sliced the fresh eggplants into thick, round discs. In a chipped earthenware bowl, he combined a few spoonfuls of wheat flour, a tiny pinch of sea salt, and cold water, stirring until a smooth batter formed.*
Kim Taehyung
*He dipped each slice of eggplant into the mixture, ensuring every inch was fully coated. Pouring a small splash of his precious cooking oil into a heated iron skillet, he laid the slices down one by one.*
Sizzle...
The sound was soft, a gentle hum in the quiet kitchen. He stood over the hearth, waiting patiently as the smell of toasted flour and warm, sweet eggplant began to fill the cold air. When the bottoms turned a deep, golden brown, he flipped them over, watching the steam rise into the dim rafters.
Kim Taehyung
*Lastly, he sliced the cucumber into thin, delicate moons. Heating another tiny drop of oil, he tossed the cucumber slices into the pan, stirring quickly over high heat so they retained their fresh crunch. He cracked a single egg—a rare luxury—over the vegetables, scrambling it lightly with a pinch of sea salt until the soft yellow ribbons wrapped gently around the green cucumber slices.*
When everything was finished, Taehyung did something he always did. He took down two simple wooden dishes and divided the food into two equal portions.
Kim Taehyung
*He carried the wooden tray to the living room, setting the food down on the straw mat. He placed one portion on his side, and the second portion on the empty side of the mat—the spot where his mother used to sit.*
Kim Taehyung
*He sat down cross-legged, holding his small bowl of steaming rice.*
The silence in the room was absolute, broken only by the faint whistle of the winter wind outside the mud walls. He ate slowly, chewing each bite in complete quiet, his dark eyes drifting out the tiny window toward the distant, rolling hills of East River Village.
Kim Taehyung
𝘑𝘦𝘰𝘯 𝘑𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘬𝘰𝘰𝘬...
The name felt heavy on his tongue, unfamiliar yet strangely persistent.
Taehyung lowered his chopsticks, his gaze lingering on the empty wooden bowl across from him. Auntie Su's words echoed softly in the quiet hut, filling the space where his mother's laughter used to live.
Kim Taehyung
[You will finally have a family again... You will no longer be alone.]
Kim Taehyung
*He reached out a cold hand, gently touching the edge of the empty wooden dish, and let out a long, trembling breath as the afternoon sun finally dipped below the horizon.*
A Whispered Blessing in the Dark
𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝟯: 𝗔 𝗪𝗵𝗶𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗱 𝗕𝗹𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗗𝗮𝗿𝗸
The afternoon sky was painted in soft, fading shades of gold and amber. Autumn in the countryside brought a sharp, chilling bite to the air, whistling through the golden bamboo groves and carrying the earthy scents of dry leaves, damp soil, and distant woodsmoke. The sun hung bright above the horizon, but it offered almost no real warmth—only a fragile, flickering light that cast long, thin shadows across the dusty, barren fields.
Draped in his simple, threadbare cloak, Taehyung walked in quiet silence alongside Auntie Su toward the high ridge overlooking the East River fields.
They took cover beneath the broad, sweeping canopy of an ancient oak tree. From this height, the world below seemed vast, rugged, and unyielding. Down in the stony dirt, a tall young man was hoisting massive, heavy sacks of grain onto a creaking wooden cart.
Aunt Su
"That is Jeon Jungkook," Auntie Su whispered softly beside him, her breath rising in a faint cloud of white mist. "He turned twenty-five this year."
Kim Taehyung
*Taehyung stared down at him, unable to pull his eyes away.*
Jungkook was tall and broad-shouldered, but the sheer, crushing weight of his life was written into every line of his posture. His dark hair was pulled back loosely at the nape of his neck, his jaw set in a tight, exhausted line. His clothes were far worse than Taehyung’s—a faded, coarse tunic covered in crude, uneven patches where the fabric had worn through from hard labor.
Yet, despite the bone-deep tiredness etched into his features, his eyes remained strikingly clear, steady, and calm.
Suddenly, a harsh, metal crash echoed across the rocky soil.
A younger man behind the cart had stumbled over an exposed root, spilling a heavy woven basket of sweet potatoes into the dirt.
Aunt Su
"That is the youngest brother, 𝗝𝗲𝗼𝗻 𝗛𝗼𝘀𝗲𝗼𝗸," Auntie Su introduced gently. "He is twenty now."
Kim Taehyung
*Taehyung braced himself automatically, his muscles tensing beneath his cloak. He fully expected the eldest brother to yell, curse, or lash out in frustration—just as any overworked, starving man in Oakwood would when precious food was wasted in the mud.*
Instead, Jungkook set his heavy grain sack down immediately. Without a second thought, he rushed over to the fallen boy. He dropped to his knees in the dirt, his large, calloused hands carefully checking Hoseok’s ankles and palms for cuts or scrapes.
Finding no blood, a warm, soft smile broke across Jungkook's tired face. He didn't say a single harsh word. He simply began picking up the scattered potatoes with careful, quiet patience.
Jeon Jungkook[ Eldest]
"It's alright, Hob-ah," Taehyung heard Jungkook’s deep, low voice float up the ridge on the autumn wind. "Accidents happen. As long as you aren't hurt, that’s all that matters."
Taehyung’s hand tightened around the fabric of his cloak over his chest. A sudden, sharp heat flared deep within his ribs—an unfamiliar, overwhelming ache that made his throat tighten painfully.
Kim Taehyung
*He didn't understand why his heart burned at the sight of a simple, quiet gesture between brothers. He didn't understand why the sight of that gentle smile felt like a physical blow to his chest.*
Moments later, two more silhouettes approached from the far end of the field, their boots heavy on the dry soil. One was tall and broad; the other was slightly shorter, moving with a quiet, watchful grace.
Aunt Su
"The tall one is 𝗝𝗲𝗼𝗻 𝗡𝗮𝗺𝗷𝗼𝗼𝗻, twenty-three this year," Auntie Su murmured.
Aunt Su
"And the one beside him is 𝗝𝗲𝗼𝗻 𝗬𝗼𝗼𝗻𝗴𝗶, twenty-two. Those four brothers... they may have nothing to their names, but they hold a deep, unshakable love for one another."
Kim Taehyung
*Taehyung watched in absolute stillness as the four brothers sat together on a dusty bank beneath the pale afternoon sun. Between them, they produced a single, small piece of coarse barley bread—their only food for a full day of brutal field labor.*
Jungkook took the bread into his large hands. With quiet deliberation, he tore it into four pieces. He handed the larger, softer portions to his three younger brothers, leaving only the smallest, hardest crust for himself.
The heat in Taehyung’s chest flared higher, burning behind his eyes until his vision blurred. He quickly looked away, trying to numb the sensation, but the image remained scorched into his mind: four men surrounded by dust and debt, yet radiating a warmth that felt brighter than the autumn sun.
Aunt Su
Noticing his quiet, intense stillness, Auntie Su reached out and patted his shoulder with tender understanding. "Taehyung-ah, you don't need to rush. I don't expect an answer right now. Think about it tonight, and let Auntie know tomorrow."
Taehyung opened his mouth to say no—to run back to the safety of his cold, quiet isolation—but something held his tongue back. The word trapped itself in his throat. He simply nodded his head silently, turned around, and walked back to his village alone.
By the time Taehyung reached his small, drafty hut, twilight had long faded into a freezing, ink-black night.
Kim Taehyung
*He didn't light a candle. He sat down on his rickety wooden chair in the dark, staring out the tiny window at the empty horizon. He thought about what he had witnessed in those dusty fields. The villagers in Oakwood always mocked the Jeon family for having nothing, but sitting alone in the cold shadow of his own hut, Taehyung realized the truth.*
Kim Taehyung
[They have everything that matters. They have each other.]
Exhausted in both body and spirit, Taehyung eventually lay down on his small straw mat and pulled his thin blanket up to his shoulders. He closed his eyes, letting the bitter cold of the room envelop him.
As deep sleep gradually took hold, the harsh chill of the hut began to thaw. The icy silence melted away, replaced by a soft, ethereal golden light that seemed to glow from within the walls. The air changed—it no longer tasted of winter frost, but smelled of sweet wild roses, dried timber, and warm woodsmoke.
It was the scent of his childhood.
Kim Taehyung
*Standing before him were two familiar figures, bathed in a gentle, brilliant radiance. His father stood tall, his rough features soft, his eyes crinkling at the corners with the same playful affection he had always shown. Beside him stood his mother, her beautiful, delicate face shining with unconditional love.*
Kim Taehyung
Taehyung tried to call out to them—𝘼𝙥𝙥𝙖! 𝙀𝙤𝙢𝙢𝙖!—but his voice broke, choked by eight long years of unshed tears.
Kim Taehyung
*His father stepped forward first, his footfalls silent on the golden light. He reached out, cupping Taehyung’s pale cheek with a warm, broad palm.*
"My Taetae... my sweet baby," his father murmured, his voice rich and deep, exactly as Taehyung remembered it.
Kim Taehyung
*Taehyung let out a soft, breathy laugh through the tears spilling over his eyelashes.*
Kim Taehyung
*He saw, his mother lightly swatted his father’s arm with a gentle scold, just as she used to do, before turning her soft, luminous eyes back to her son. She reached out, her cool, soft thumb running gently over Taehyung’s brow, smoothing away the deep lines of worry that had carved themselves there over years of hardship.*
"My precious Tae-ah," his mother whispered, her voice like a soothing lullaby in the quiet air.
"It is time to leave this old, cold house and find a real home, my baby. Appa and Eomma will always love you. We give you our blessing... go and live."
Kim Taehyung
"Eomma... Appa... don't leave me!" Taehyung pleaded softly, reaching out his cold hands.
But their glowing figures began to soften, slowly dissolving into a thousand tiny, shimmering particles of light. Yet even as they faded, the lingering feeling of their warmth remained wrapped tightly around his shoulders
Taehyung gasped, sitting up abruptly on his straw mat.
Kim Taehyung
*His chest was heaving, his breath coming in ragged gasps in the dark, silent room. He lifted a trembling hand to his face, feeling the hot, wet trails soaking his cheeks.*
Yet, for the first time in eight years, the cold, suffocating numbness in his chest was gone. The presence of his parents still lingered in the air around him, a gentle, protective warmth urging his frozen heart to beat again.
They didn't want him to just survive. They wanted him to live.
Taehyung wiped his cheeks with the edge of his faded sleeve, looked out at the pale moonlight washing across the wooden sill, and took a deep, steady breath.
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![Jeon Jungkook[ Eldest]](https://up-pic.mangatoon.mobi/contribute/fiction/13131358/avatar/59546016/17858386952.jpeg-s200webp?sign=8cb81ca13442affa4cbab9d4eff3921c&t=6a896cbf)
