The village slept under the silver glow of the moon, but Jeon Jungkook lay wide awake. He leaned against the old wooden fence outside his small house, dark eyes tracing the stars scattered across the endless sky. Somewhere deep inside, an ache pulled at him—a yearning for something more than the quiet, predictable life he had always known.

His friends were content. The villagers worked, ate, laughed, and rested in the same rhythm, day after day. But Jungkook’s heart refused to be still.

"There has to be more than this," he whispered into the night, his breath misting in the cool air.

The orchard nearby stirred with the soft rustle of blossoms. At first, he thought it was the wind, but then a sound reached him—a delicate chime, like the faint ringing of bells carried by the breeze. His body tensed. It wasn’t a sound he had ever heard before.

Jungkook pushed off the fence, curiosity drawing him forward. He stepped into the orchard, his boots crunching lightly against the earth. The trees glowed faintly under the moonlight, their blossoms swaying as if whispering secrets to one another.

And then he saw him.

A figure stood beneath the largest tree, bathed in pale light, as though the moon itself had descended to the earth. His hair shimmered, his posture regal yet sorrowful, and his gaze—though far away—seemed to hold the weight of eternity.

Jungkook’s breath caught. For a heartbeat, he forgot how to move, how to think. The world narrowed to that one figure who didn’t look human, who didn’t belong to this place… yet somehow fit more perfectly than anyone he had ever known.

But before Jungkook could speak, before he could even take a step closer, the blossoms shifted—and the figure was gone. The clearing was empty, leaving only the faint chime lingering in the air.

Jungkook’s heart thudded wildly in his chest. He pressed a hand against it, trying to steady himself, but the pounding refused to fade.

"Who… was that?" he whispered, staring at the place where the mysterious boy had been.

The orchard gave no answer. But Jungkook knew, with an unshakable certainty, that this night was only the beginning.

✨ Fated to You

The sun slipped behind the hills, leaving the village bathed in violet dusk. Jungkook tightened the straps of the basket on his back as he made his way home from the river. The night always came alive in ways the day never did—whispers in the trees, the soft hum of crickets, the pale shimmer of moonlight dancing across the blossoms. Tonight, though, the air felt different. He couldn’t shake the memory of what he had seen the night before: a boy under the blossoms, glowing faintly in silver light, gone before he could even blink.

As he passed the orchard, a sudden rustle broke the quiet. His body froze. It wasn’t just the wind. The sound was heavier, sharper, like something moving with purpose. Carefully setting his basket down, Jungkook stepped between the rows of trees, his breath shallow.

That’s when he saw it.

A shadow crouched near the ground, eyes glowing faintly in the dark. A spirit—its body twisted, half-shape, half-smoke—lurched toward him with an eerie snarl. Jungkook stumbled back, heart pounding, his hand fumbling for the small knife at his belt. He had heard stories of rogue spirits, but never faced one so close.

The creature lunged.

Before Jungkook could raise his blade, a burst of light cut across the orchard. The spirit recoiled, hissing, as petals swirled unnaturally in the air. And from the light stepped him—the boy Jungkook had seen the night before.

He moved with impossible grace, his hand raised as though commanding the blossoms themselves. The petals glowed, forming a barrier that wrapped around the rogue spirit. With one final flick of his wrist, the boy’s voice rang low and steady, like a melody carried by the wind. The spirit dissolved into mist, leaving silence in its wake.

Jungkook could only stare. The boy turned slowly, his face revealed in the moonlight—sharp jaw, soft eyes that seemed carved from starlight, lips pressed into a solemn line. He was beautiful in a way that felt unreal.

“You shouldn’t be here,” the boy said, his tone calm but firm.

Jungkook blinked, still catching his breath. “You—” He pointed shakily to the place where the spirit had vanished. “You just—what are you?”

The boy’s gaze lingered on him, unreadable. “Someone you weren’t supposed to see.”

Something in his voice made Jungkook shiver, not from fear but from the weight of it. As if every word carried centuries.

“Wait!” Jungkook stepped forward, his heart louder than his thoughts. “You saved me. At least tell me your name.”

The boy hesitated, blossoms drifting around him like a crown. Then he shook his head. “Names only bind us.”

And before Jungkook could speak again, the wind stirred, petals rose in a swirl of silver, and the boy was gone—leaving Jungkook alone in the orchard, chest heaving, mind spinning.

But one thing was certain. He had found something beyond ordinary life. Something he could not let slip away.

And he would find him again.

Chapter 3 – Whispers in the Orchard

The next morning, the village was bright and bustling, but Jungkook moved through it as though in a dream. He had hardly slept. The memory of the boy—his voice, his impossible power—played again and again in his mind. It felt too vivid to dismiss as fantasy, yet too strange to speak aloud without sounding foolish.

Still, there was one person he could trust.

Jimin.

He found his friend near the well, hauling up buckets with his usual cheer. “Kook!” Jimin called, flashing his familiar grin. “You look like you wrestled a nightmare all night. Don’t tell me you were studying instead of sleeping again?”

Jungkook gave a short laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Not exactly.” He glanced around; villagers bustled by, trading goods and gossip. He lowered his voice. “Can we talk? Somewhere quiet.”

Jimin raised a brow at his tone, but nodded. Moments later, they slipped away to the shade of the orchard—the same orchard where it had all happened. Jungkook’s pulse quickened just being there.

“All right,” Jimin said, crossing his arms. “Out with it. What’s got you so pale?”

Jungkook hesitated. Then, in a rush, he told him everything: the shadowed spirit, the boy who appeared out of light, the way he commanded the blossoms. Every detail tumbled out, his voice shaking between awe and disbelief.

When he finally fell silent, Jimin stared at him. For a long moment, only the sound of leaves rustling filled the air.

“Jungkook,” Jimin said slowly, “do you hear yourself? You’re saying you met a spirit. Not just any, but one that… looks like a boy?”

“I know how it sounds,” Jungkook muttered, frustrated. “But it happened, Jimin. He was real. He saved me.”

Jimin’s playful demeanor faded into something more serious. His gaze flicked toward the orchard trees as if they might be listening. “My grandmother used to tell stories about them,” he said softly. “Spirits who walk between worlds. Some are kind. Some…” His voice lowered. “Some bring curses.”

Jungkook frowned. “He didn’t feel like a curse.”

“That’s what makes them dangerous,” Jimin replied. “The old legends say—once you look into their eyes, fate ties you to them. For better or worse.”

The words sank heavy into Jungkook’s chest. He thought of the boy’s gaze—ancient yet fragile, like starlight on water. Fate. Could that really be what had pulled him into that moment?

Jimin sighed, laying a hand on his shoulder. “Kook, I’m not saying you imagined it. But if this spirit boy exists, you have to be careful. The villagers fear what they don’t understand. And if you get too close…” He trailed off, shaking his head.

Jungkook clenched his fists. “I don’t care about legends or fear. He saved my life. That means something. I need to find him again.”

Jimin’s eyes searched his, worried yet knowing he wouldn’t be swayed. “You’ve always been stubborn.” He gave a small smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Just promise me one thing. Don’t lose yourself chasing after him.”

Jungkook nodded, but in his heart, he already knew.

He wasn’t chasing.

He was being pulled.

--- please support my love kisses