The Dream That Lingered

In the flickering candlelight of the grand palace hall, Kim Taehyung stood clad in dark silk robes. The wind whispered through the open windows, carrying the faint scent of blood and roses. He was an Alpha, the supreme ruler of the Eastern Realm. But his heart was not with the crown; it wandered somewhere else… somewhere across time.

Centuries later, in the heart of Seoul, the CEO of Kim Corporations opened his eyes to the same dream again — a battlefield, two broken men calling his name, one with moonlight in his eyes, and another cloaked in darkness.

"Sir, your schedule begins in ten minutes," his assistant’s voice snapped him out of his trance.

He didn’t answer. Instead, he stared at the mirror. Those violet eyes of his shimmered with a memory older than time itself.

---

Jeon Jungkook walked through the campus of the Seoul Art Institute. His head buzzed with unfinished sketches and a melody that haunted him. An enigma — that's what people called him. No past records, no family. Just a boy with striking beauty, untamed talent, and eyes that seemed to remember pain he never lived.

And then there was Jungukk — a quiet librarian with an aura that pulled people in. He avoided eye contact, preferring the company of books and silence. But even he felt it. That strange pull whenever he saw Jungkook pass by. As if a thread tied them.

"Jungukk-ssi," Jungkook spoke one day, handing him a book he'd borrowed. Their fingers brushed. The air shifted. A scent — warm like lavender and something ancient — surrounded them.

Jungukk’s eyes widened. "You… smell like…"

"Like a memory?" Jungkook smiled softly.

---

That night, all three men dreamt of the same thing — a moonlit battlefield, and blood on Taehyung’s hands.

Kim Taehyung sat in his office, pouring over merger papers, but his mind was lost in the past. The reincarnation ritual he underwent in the palace’s final war had worked. He was here — in the future — alive, breathing. But the two he lost… were they alive too?

He felt it the moment he stepped into the art exhibition.

Jeon Jungkook was there, painting an abstract of the moon and a man with dark robes.

Taehyung's breath hitched. That face — those eyes.

"Your painting… it reminds me of a story," Taehyung said.

Jungkook tilted his head, playful. "Maybe we read the same book in our past life."

Taehyung chuckled. "Or maybe… you wrote it with me."

---

At the National Library, Jungukk was closing shelves when a voice called, "Do you believe in fated souls?"

It was Jungkook, again.

Jungukk nodded quietly. "Sometimes, dreams feel more real than life."

Their fingers brushed again, and suddenly, he remembered — standing beside a golden throne, kissing blood from the lips of a wounded Taehyung, holding Jungkook as the palace collapsed.

He gasped. Jungkook steadied him.

"You remember too, don’t you?" Jungkook whispered.

That night, the moon hung low as Taehyung found Jungukk waiting outside his tower.

"You came," Taehyung whispered.

Jungukk nodded. "I promised. Even if lifetimes pass."

Taehyung kissed his forehead. Behind them, Jungkook watched, smiling sadly.

"All of us… finally together again."

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