Chapter 2: Whispers in the Ashes

The flower shop felt different the next morning. The sunlight was the same, warm and golden through the windows, but the air held a strange heaviness—as if something ancient had rooted itself among the roses and lilies.

Jungkook tried to focus. He swept the floor, arranged tulips, and watered the violets. But his hands trembled slightly, and every shadow made his heart jump.

That name echoed in his mind like a curse and a song.

The man had vanished like a ghost, leaving only confusion and the scent of burnt roses behind. Jungkook had barely slept. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw flashes: blood-red skies, a burning throne, and V’s face—so close, so familiar it ached.

He didn’t believe in reincarnation. Or devils. Or soul-bound lovers from centuries past.

And yet… the black rose still bloomed outside his window, untouched by morning dew, swaying even when the wind was still.

“Just a dream,” Jungkook whispered as he tied a ribbon around a bouquet. “A very vivid, terrifying dream.”

The shop bell chimed.

Jungkook turned, expecting a customer.

Instead, V stood in the doorway.

He wore all black—tailored pants, a silk shirt unbuttoned just enough to reveal a hint of ink on his collarbone. His eyes were hidden behind dark sunglasses, but the way he smiled told Jungkook he was watching everything.

“Miss me?” V asked, stepping inside.

Jungkook dropped the bouquet. “What the hell are you doing here?”

V reached down and picked up a fallen petal. “You say that like you didn’t just summon me yesterday.”

“That was a mistake,” Jungkook hissed. “Whatever game you’re playing, stop it. This isn’t funny.”

V didn’t laugh. “You think I’m a hallucination?”

“I think you’re dangerous.”

“That’s true,” V murmured. “But not to you. Never to you.”

“Don’t—” Jungkook backed away, heart pounding. “Don’t talk like you know me.”

“I do know you,” V said softly. “Even if you’ve forgotten. I know how you fidget with your sleeves when you’re nervous. How you smell like jasmine when you sleep. How you used to whisper my name like a promise—”

“Stop!” Jungkook shouted, his voice cracking.

Silence fell.

V stood very still, something flickering in his expression—regret, maybe. Or sorrow. “I didn’t come to hurt you, Jungkook,” he said. “I came to understand.”

“I’m not him,” Jungkook said, his voice small. “I don’t remember any of it. If it’s even real.”

V walked slowly to the counter, placed the petal there gently. “Then let me help you remember.”

Jungkook stared. “How?”

V looked at him with eyes that seemed far too old for someone who looked so young. “I can’t force your soul to wake,” he said. “But I can be close. And when it’s ready… it’ll show you what we were. What we could be again.”

“Why would I want to remember someone who says I betrayed them?” Jungkook asked bitterly.

V’s jaw tightened. “Because even betrayal comes from love. And what we had… was not ordinary.”

Jungkook didn’t respond. His head was spinning.

V took off his sunglasses, and for the first time, Jungkook saw those eyes in the daylight—burning red, yes, but not monstrous. They held centuries of longing, grief, and something deeper still.

Devotion.

“I’ll leave for now,” V said. “But I won’t go far. The seal you broke links us again. You’ll see me, feel me, whether you want to or not.”

“I didn’t break anything on purpose,” Jungkook muttered.

“But you did,” V whispered. “Because some part of you… still wants me.”

Before Jungkook could speak, V disappeared again—this time with a gust of wind and a scattering of black rose petals.

That night, Jungkook stood outside, staring at the black rose.

He reached out slowly and touched a petal. It was soft—unnaturally so—and warm beneath his fingers.

And then the visions came again.

Fire. A throne. Hands intertwined. A blade through a chest. A voice screaming “I’m sorry.”

He stumbled back, breath stolen from his lungs.

Behind him, the shadows seemed to hum.

Jungkook fell to his knees, gripping his head. “Who are you… really?” he whispered into the night.