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The coffin was pink. It drew shocked looks from the guests who didn't know Jin as well as they did; people were outraged at this blatant disregard of custom and tradition. But they didn't know- didn't know that Jin loved pink and that if he could be here now, he would no doubt be completely satisfied with the hot pink shade they had picked out. The shop that sold them the wooden carrier had been blown out of the water when they had dared to ask for a pink coffin; shocked, uncomprehending. Finally, they were forced to buy a white one, and get a custom pink paint job. Some would think they were overdoing the color choice a little too much- but those people didn't understand that Kim Seokjin deserved the whole fucking world. The coffin was a bright contrast with the dullness of the atmosphere, with the dark clothes and the dark looks on their faces. Hoseok and Jimin were crying- they had always had the softest, kindest hearts of them all. Namjoon wasn't sure if they had stopped since they had first heard. Jungkook was looking firmly at the ground- silent, stoic- taking on the role of staying strong even though he was the youngest and had received perhaps the most parental love from the elder. Taehyung, next to him, had curled in on himself completely. Yoongi had retreated to the back, cradling the hand that was bleeding after he had punched a tree right after they had arrived. And Namjoon? Namjoon was standing right in front, not shedding a single tear, given the right to throw in the initial handfuls of dirt along with Jin’s family. The other boys came right after, but he was first, because Jin had loved him. As the coffin lowered into the earth, swallowed whole, Namjoon couldn’t help but feel like the sun had set forever. /// The coffin was pink, but it was empty. They didn't even have a body to bury. No, their beloved hyung was lying in the cold dirt in some other country, a life lost for a country that would only honor it by paying for his funeral and offering his family a measly amount of money each month. Like that was enough- like that could ever make the loss any less agonising. Jungkook had been the one to first read one of the letters. Everything about the army had become modern, but they still sent the family letters to notify them of deaths. Perhaps the lack of reliability was why- a letter lost in the mail would perhaps postpone the pain for just a little longer. With great regret we are writing to inform you that Sergeant Kim Seokjin has been missing in action for over two weeks after a confrontation on the front. He has unfortunately been assumed dead. We are extremely sorry for you loss and-
There is nothing, nothing in this world more painful that a child learning of a parental figure’s death- except perhaps the vice versa. And that was exactly what Jungkook went through, alone and broken, until Taehyung came home to find him crumpled into a ball on the ground- a similarly crumpled piece of paper next to him. Jungkook didn't talk for a few days after- in a catatonic state- so the rest of them had to repress what they were feeling and take care of him instead. It was a welcome distraction, but the moment Namjoon let his mind slip to visions of Jungkook being cared for by Jin instead, everything in him seemed to ache all over again. Even if he was too busy to miss Jin in the mornings, it hit him with full force at night. He thought of Jin’s laugh, his coffee flavoured kisses in the morning, and he wondered at the cruelty of the universe around him. Namjoon had never been a believer- never prayed, never worshipped any god. But if anything, this loss had just deepened that resolve that there was no one up there. No god would take Jin away- of all of them, Jin deserved a long life more than anyone else. /// Jin had been excited when he got his letter of acceptance to join the army. Namjoon just felt sick. He felt sea sick, like the very surface he was on was shifting and his body couldn’t adjust to it- not just yet. Jin was confident, though. He promised Namjoon he would only serve one term, in honour of all the men in his family serving, and then come home to him, never to leave again. Lies. Jin hadn’t known it, but it was a fucking lie. /// Namjoon’s friends worried about him. He couldn’t bring himself to worry too much about them, though. Pitying himself and missing his lover was a full time job. Sometimes he wondered how Jungkook was now, if Jimin was eating well, if Yoongi had adjusted to being their eldest hyung. But every time the opportunity arose, everything in him froze, and the words crowded on his tongue- like a person on a cliff, ready to make the jump but just unable to. They visited him every day. Yoongi brought him lunch, and they would all eat together at night- pretending it was a reunion, when really they just wanted to ensure he was okay. He was loved them so much for how much they cared- how they carved their lives out to help him. Loving them felt like betrayal, though- it felt like danger and pain because Namjoon had never loved anyone as well as he had loved Seokjin and the loss of that made him feel like the word was crushing him and he was drowning and god, oh god, he missed him so much. /// A month later, there was a letter in their mailbox with a government crest on top. Army, it was the army, Namjoon thought dully, wondering what they could want- hadn’t they done enough? Wasn't taking Jin away enough? He entertained the thought that perhaps it was the money they were due to send him every month. Seokjin and his’ house had fallen into disrepair- Namjoon may have forgotten to pay the electricity bill. But he wouldn’t pay up with this money. It felt dirty, polluted- stained with his lover’s blood. Blood money, that’s what it was, and Namjoon would starve before he used it to sustain himself. He could only bring himself to open the letter after he had gone to work and come back. He opened it gingerly, like it would burn him. It is our great pleasure to inform you that your husband, Kim Seokjin has been located and will be-
The paper blurred before his eyes. His Jinnie, his baby, was coming home. /// Jin came home three days later. All of his friends flooded the airport, and seeing the camouflage clad, slightly limping man, they all broke into runs to hold the person they thought they would never get to again. Taehyung, forever the fastest, reach him first, jumping up to wrap his spindly legs around Jin’s waist and crying into his neck. Jin, clearly weaker, had fallen back slightly, thankfully caught by Jungkook. Soon, Jin was lost under a pile of people, all in varying states of breaking down. Usually, this would have been a spectacle, but other officers had come home too, and tearful reunions were taking place all around them. When Namjoon had seen his lover, he hadn’t run like everyone else. Instead, everything in him loosened, weakened, till his legs gave in and he had to sit on the nearest bench. He covered his eyes, trying to remember how to breathe. Suddenly, there was a tap on his shoulder. “Joonie,” he heard. And then he cried, god, Namjoon cried. /// As expected, Seokjin had been extremely happy with the pink coffin, even thought Namjoon wanted to shut the accursed memory out from his mind and never think about it again. “A custom paint job, you said, right Joon? Do you think they’ll do our bed?” Namjoon thought of how it had felt to watch the pink coffin sink beneath the ground, how it had felt to think Seokjin was gone with it. “No,” he snapped. Jin shrunk in slightly, brightening up again when he thought of an alternative, “How about our bathtub?” Namjoon looked up, ready to refuse again, but then he caught sight of his lover and all that was tense and hurting seemed to relax. Jin was wearing his favourite pink sweatshirt (originally Namjoon’s, but who could keep track?) and his lips were parted and his cheeks flushed with excitement and Namjoon made a silent promise to do anything in the world to keep him looking that way for the rest of their lives. A pink bathtub seemed like a good place to start.