Chapter Text
In the middle of the Always Night a little star lies restless in his bed.
Hoseok burrows further into his cozy sheets. He presses his face against soft pillows, his cheek squishing flat. He counts in his head, he rolls into a new position, but despite it all, he just can’t sleep.
With a huff, he flips back the blankets and swings his little legs over the edge of the bed, the pads of his feet barely brushing the plush carpet under toe. He lets them hang there for a moment, a keen ear out for his parents. A shock of bravery shoots through him and he takes the final hop out of bed.
He pulls in his glow with all the control a child is able to muster, but the walls are still painted in golden light as he tip toes down the hallway.
His parents are in the other room, unwinding after a long day of work.
In near slow motion, he creeps through the door of his father’s office, left slightly ajar.
He’s not really supposed to be in there, but the temptation is bigger than Hoseok’s little body. As quiet as can be, he slips in and only then does he let his glow go free. The room illuminates in shimmering gold and amber starlight dancing.
Near the window overlooking the endless expanse of the Always Night, is one of the antique Wish Radios Hoseok’s father collects. They’re funny machines, Hoseok thinks. He always hears his dad call them outdated technology , but that they have a certain charm.
“A certain charm,” Hoseok whispers to himself with a smile. He’s always liked that.
He turns the knob, only just a little. Just enough for the glow of the machine to meet his own radiance, and the hum of the radio to reach his ears. He sits down on the floor, legs crossed under him.
It starts slow, the machine warming up after sitting idle, but eventually a single bubble emerges from the speaker box. It floats up to greet Hoseok before passing by and up towards the ceiling. He can see an old woman in front of a cake covered in candles, eyes closed. Her gentle cadence wafts from the bubble though her lips do not move-
I wish the kids would call more.
Oh, birthdays. Hoseok fiddles with the tuning before any more wishes can filter out. Birthdays are fine, he guesses, but not nearly as exciting.
He lets the spindly notch fall into a spot that feels familiar and waits for another wish to form. The shimmery blues and pinks of the bubble catch his light so nicely. This time there’s a young boy at a windowsill, oversized pajama set worn at the knees, a stuffed elephant toy tucked under his arm. His ears are kind of big for his head. Like the elephant’s, Hoseok thinks with a smile.
The boy opens his mouth, front teeth missing and makes a wish.
“Star light, star bright,” the kid struggles without those two teeth. “First star I see tonight. I wish I may, I wish I might, have the wish I wish tonight.”
He takes a deep breath, hands clasped in front of him, eyes filled with wonderment trained on the stars.
“I wish-”
“Hoseok, what are you doing in here?”
Hoseok jumps so hard, he bumps the Wish Radio, turning it off. The bubble pops as his father turns on the office light and enters the room.
“Dad!” Hoseok scrambles up off the floor, hurrying to straighten the Wish Radio on its display ledge.
“Buddy, what are you doing? You know you’re not supposed to be in here without me or mom.”
“I just wanted to listen,” he pouts, glancing back at the machine.
His dad holds his hand out, waiting until Hoseok puts his small hand in his own, wrapping it up with care. “We can come in here and listen together if you want,” his dad says as he leads him back to his bedroom. “But, my work stuff is in there, so we can’t be too careful, okay?”
“Okay…”
“Now, let’s get you to bed or you’re going to be grumpy for school in the morning.”
“No I won’t,” he grumbles, though he climbs into bed anyway. He knows full well he will be grumpy in the morning when he first wakes up anyway, but neither him or his dad say anything.
“Goodnight, my littlest star.”
His dad closes the door, leaving the only light in the room coming from Hoseok. He burrows into the mound of blankets and falls asleep almost instantly.
…..
“Dad, can we listen to some wishes?” Hoseok asks after school the next day.
His father is still working, sitting at his desk and fielding wishes as fast as they come in. Hoseok knows his dad is important at work, has heard his mom tell the other moms sometimes about how proud she is. So Hoseok is proud too. His sister says he’s The Big Boss. Hoseok wants to be The Big Boss someday too.
The large wooden desk that Hoseok’s dad sits behind looks like a fortress with walls of computer blockading him in. He can hear clicking and clacking and the swipe of a mouse as his dad receives wishes. They learn about this stuff in school, Hoseok knows all about it. Wishing Stars are very important. The most important kinds of wishes, even if dumb old Namjoon, who’s a quarter Clover on his dad’s side and just transferred, says Clover Wishes are just as important if not more since you can hold a clover in your hand. What does he know?
“Bud, I’m still finishing things up. Can you wait a couple more hours?”
“What if I keep the volume really low? I can sit over here and be really good, I promise,” he says, leaning around the blocky PC tower to blink big eyes at his dad.
It earns him a fond laugh. His dead keeps typing, but he glances back at Hoseok a couple of times before sighing and sagging in his chair. “Alright, but keep it down and no funny business.”
Hoseok rushes over to his favorite radio, the same one from last night and turns it on. The dial is still set to the right station, so he plops onto the ground and waits for the wishes to start rolling in. The tapestry of languages in the parts of the world where the sun has long set are a beautiful, technicolor vision. He may not know where they come from, but he understands the wishes just fine as they float through the air.
A boyfriend.
A pony.
Rain for the crops.
For these legs to get stronger.
Wish after wish pour in the longer the machine runs. Hoseok watches the shimmery vignettes until the scrape of his father’s chair drags him out of his thoughts.
He bounces up off the floor and turns off the radio, rushing to catch his dad before he gets too far. “Dad, that wish from last night-”
“What wish?” His dad asks, stretching his back and rubbing his eyes.
“The one from the boy.”
“Hoseok, we get a lot of wishes in,” his dad chuckles. “You gotta give me more than that.”
“I just want to know if he got his wish,” he murmurs.
His dad sits back down in his chair with a huff. He motions Hoseok over and pulls him onto his lap, even though Hoseok has been telling him all year he’s too old to sit on laps any more. Just this once, he’ll let it slide.
“Okay, what do you remember?”
Hoseok watches his dad click on an icon on the screen that looks an awful lot like the bubbles from the radio. It pops on the screen, complete with a popping sound and the screen goes dark as the Always Night.
“Um, the boy was by a window.”
His dad laughs. “About the wish, kiddo.”
“Oh. He said a funny thing like a poem.”
His dad hums. “What kind of poem, do you remember how it went?”
“Yeah! ‘Stars are bright, bright lights, I wish’ and then the bubble went-” Hoseok puts his finger in his cheek and pulls it so it makes a loud pop noise.
His dad laughs the big loud laugh. Hoseok’s favorite laugh. It makes him giggle too. His sister pokes her head in, wanting to know what’s so funny but not wanting to be caught dead laughing at anything her goofy little brother thinks is funny. Their mom says “they’re at those ages”, whatever that means.
Hoseok’s mom yells that dinner is ready and for the evening it’s forgotten.
…..
But in the pillowy comfort of the blankets and pillows and all his favorite and most soft toys, Hoseok is thinking about that boy and his poem again.
He’s not nervous when he slides out of bed this time.
He pads down the hallway, ears perked for any sign of his parents, but it sounds like they’ve called it an early night tonight. Hoseok almost considers turning back, it’s later than last time, the little boy is probably fast asleep, there’s no point, but he’s wide awake… he might as well.
The door to the office is closed. Hoseok holds his breath as he lets himself in and gently closes the door behind him, the latch sounding extra loud in the quiet. He tiptoes over to the Wish Radio and quickly turns it on. He bounces on the balls of his feet waiting for that first bubble to build.
It expands past the grate and finally dislodges, its edges warbling as it meanders in Hoseok’s direction.
“I wish I could be in the movies.” A young teen, sitting on the back of a beat up pick up truck.
She’s not the little boy.
Hoseok huffs. He sits down on the floor and decides to watch a few anyway.
I wish I could be happy.
Wish he liked me back.
Make me not like this.
A new car.
A new job.
I wish I could get out of here. Anywhere but here.
“Star light, star bright-”
Hoseok jolts up from where he’s starfished out on the floor watching the little scenes dance above him. It’s that same little boy at that same window, staring out at the stars.
“First star I see tonight. I wish I may, I wish I might, have the wish I wish tonight.” Again, he takes a deep breath, hands clasped in front of him. “I wish Grandma’s hands felt better. She said they hurt too much to play with me after working all day, so please make her hands better. Um, I have more but Grandma says not to be greedy, so I’ll wish again tomorrow!”
Hoseok just barely manages to see him push away from the window before the bubble pops and another can be heard instead.
He turns off the machine and finally goes to bed. He feels caught somewhere between too excited to sleep and too satisfied to stay away.
The latter wins out and he falls asleep almost as soon as his head hits the pillow.
…..
“I remembered more of the poem,” he tells his dad the next day.
He’d planned to play this smart, wait a couple days. Let his dad forget about his new obsession and then tell him it just suddenly came to him. Like lightning!
His dad eyeballs him. Hoseok keeps his eyes locked on the windows overlooking the expanse of Always Night. Very nonchalant. He learned that word from his sister the other day.
It’s either a very slow day at work or Hoseok’s dad knows if he relents now it will save him hours of dancing around the request.
“Alright, come over here.”
Hoseok gladly jumps into his dad’s lap. This time, the bubble is already opened, his dad still mid work day. His dad’s fingers hover over the keyboard, all black with gold lettering. He looks at Hoseok expectantly.
“Oh. ‘Star light, star bright. First star I see tonight. I wish I may, I wish I might, have the wish I wish tonight,’” he finishes confidently after spending the day committing it to memory.
His dad types furiously, the clicking a sort of comfort sound for Hoseok. As words appear on the screen in glittering dusty font that blows away as soon as the next line appears, the screen shifts and moves from the Always Night through all the known celestial bodies until Earth of the Milky Way comes into view. There are several spots lit up red as the planet slowly spins through space.
“What else you got?”
“That grandma’s hands felt better.”
His dad adds to the search and all but one of the red spots disappears. His dad clicks on it. A new frame opens. On the side is a looping clip of the boy at the window making his wish. The entry is written out as well, date and time stamped. He has a log, but Hoseok’s dad doesn’t open it. At the top of the screen it reads-
Kim Taehyung, Age 6
Currently Residing North America
Wish Activity High
Taehyung.
Taehyung, that has high wish activity and lives in North America on Earth and is age six.
Wow.
“Wow.”
His dad laughs. “That’s all you wanted?”
Hoseok looks at him with huge eyes. He wasn’t really sure he’d get this far. What else does he ask for?
“Did he get it? The wish?”
His dad double clicks on the looping wish. The whole screen shimmers and warbles like the wavering edges of a bubble, replaced by a more detailed report. There’s a lot of words on the screen but Hoseok does see the green circle next to the wish and his dad confirms-
Wish granted.
…..
Each night Hoseok sneaks into his dad’s office and listens to his dad’s old Wish Radio until he inevitably hears Taehyung.
He knows his parents have caught on. There’s no way they haven’t. But he doesn’t mess with anything else in the office. He just listens!
And then asks his dad the next day if Taehyung’s wish came true or not.
He’s extremely reasonable about all of it.
Taehyung’s wishes range from the mundane to the bizarre, from selfish to so selfless Hoseok feels aches in his chest that he can’t explain. He listens with such rapture, commits every detail to memory.
Though it doesn’t matter after a while. His dad starts leaving post-it’s on the edge of his desk with either a big circle or a more understated x.
I wish I had a puppy
I wish Johnny didn’t miss school today so he could have seen my cool trick
I wish I wasn’t scared of being up high
I wish frogs were big enough to ride like horses
I wish grandma felt better
I wish I had a friend
I wish
I wish
I wish
When Hoseok completes his second year of Star School, his father gifts him the old Wish Radio. He teaches him how to take care of it and helps him find a special place for it in his bedroom.
Hoseok leaves the thing running more often than not when he’s home, his room filling with bubbles while he works on his studies and plays with his toys. He leaves it on when he crawls into bed and waits for Taehyung’s voice to cut through the chatter.
Only then can he drift to sleep.
…..
Taehyung’s age on his profile gets bigger and bigger while Hoseok progresses through Star School, himself growing bigger.
He stops arguing with his dad when he thinks the decision to not grant Taehyung’s wish is unjustified and Taehyung’s wishes in turn change. The silly here-and-gone notions of childhood slowly melt away over time. So slow Hoseok doesn’t notice until they’re all but gone.
No frogs the size of horses.
I wish school wasn’t so hard
I wish we didn’t have to move so much
I wish they didn’t find me so weird
I wish I wasn’t so weird
I wish we’d just move again
The wishes come slower some weeks. Every other day sometimes. Sometimes Hoseok won’t hear Taehyung on the radio for a week at a time. Every time he starts to worry, until once again, he gets just one little piece of Taehyung’s day, now a young man sitting atop a rooftop somewhere making his wishes. Hoseok hasn’t asked his dad where he lives these days.
I wish I had super powers
It startled a laugh out of Hoseok. It sounds so much like little Taehyung. He watches the bubble until it eventually pops, but nothing else comes after.
He doesn’t need to check that there’s an X stuck to his bedroom door the next day.
I wish I could do something. I wish I could make it go away. I know I’m being greedy, but please, just this once. I wish she wasn’t dying.
Hoseok is scared to look when he opens his door the next morning. He hears the little sticky note flutter with the movement.
Are stars allowed to make wishes themselves?
He closes his eyes and reaches for the note. Pulls it free and finally looks.
X
He doesn’t hear Taehyung make a wish after that.
He listens every night like clockwork, lets the radio run well into the night for months on end.
Nothing.
He ends up going to his mom for advice. His dad may be a Wishing Star but his mom is a Guiding Star, a lifetime of helping countless people navigate when they had nothing else.
“Hey, mom?”
“Yeah, sweetie?” She’s stirring something simmering on the stove, something that smells delicious.
“I have a question.”
She hums, continuing to add ingredients to the pot, tasting here and there.
“I have… a friend.”
“Namjoon?”
“I have other friends.”
“I know you do, you’re very social. All of your teachers put it on your reports. It’s just, Namjoon is the only one you really talk about at length. Well, Namjoon and Taehyung,” she laughs.
Hoseok cringes.
“Nevermind.”
“Hang on!” She reaches out to stop him from leaving but he hadn’t really made a move in the first place. His sister teases him sometimes for turning out to be a mama’s boy, that even his occasional attempts at sullen adolescence is overshadowed by the bright and bubbly boy, helpful and honest and warm-hearted that is every bit the picture of the little one his mama raised. “What’s wrong, my littlest star?”
Hoseok sits on the floor like when he was little, sprawls out, arms akimbo and stairs at the ceiling. “I have a friend. Not Namjoon. And I haven’t heard from him in a while and I’m worried about him.”
“Have you reached out to him?”
“No.” It's not like he really has the ability to do that.
“Well, maybe he’s having a hard time and could use a friend reaching out. You don’t have to wait for an invitation.” She says it with finality and a smile. Like she’s given him an undeniable building block of the universe and it was as easy as counting to one.
“You’re right, mom. I’ll think about it.”
…..
Over time Hoseok listens to the radio less and less.
His studies take precedence as he nears the end of Star School. He’s nearly top of his class, probably would have been if not for Namjoon, but he’s not too upset, Namjoon deserves the marks. Besides, he earns the coveted Cold Fire Award in his last year for his time spent developing The Creative Granting Initiative: A Look At Wishes “Technically” Granted.
They graduate together, no end to offers of potential jobs or fast tracks to any future they could want. Namjoon practically throws it all out the window to go on some soul searching journey, but Hoseok, pragmatic as ever, follows in his dad’s footsteps, the same dream he’d had since he was little.
…..
“No, I don’t like that.”
“But there’s a quota.”
Hoseok breathes in through his nose and out through his mouth. “Yes, Kai, I’m aware of the quota.”
“But we won’t reach it if we don’t grant one of these on a technicality.”
“We don’t need technicalities. We need to get creative.”
“How is that any different?” Taehyun asks from a comfy cloud puff in the corner. He looks like he could just as easily fall asleep as actually get some work done.
Hoseok often gets the batches of new Wishing Stars to take under his wing in hopes that he’ll mold them into perfect little carbon copies of himself. He’s always telling the higher ups that it’s not having copies of him that will make things successful but having a wide range of unique minds and talents working together, each pulling their own weight.
He really misses Namjoon.
They don’t listen anyway.
“Has no one read The Creative Granting Initiative?”
“Stop kissing up, Soobin,” Yeonjun laughs. Hoseok didn't even think they were in the room. Or at work today in all honesty.
“Focus.”
There may be a small part of him irritated at always getting the newbies shuffled off on him. Of having to work twice as hard as any of his peers at any given time with more than double the scrutiny. But he also loves the passion of new Wishlings. He loves the connection he builds with each new team and seeing them grow from a ragtag group of nervous kids to powerful, capable, hardworking Wishing Stars.
And this group is his best yet.
He may also get off on the power trip just a teeny tiny bit. No one needs to know.
A hush falls over the room and the five Wishlings gather around him and The Board. With a delicate gesture of his hand, a bright bubble rises from the center of an otherwise deep abyss in the center of the room. Hoseok reaches out and pops it, allowing the wish to burst out.
A pimply teen sits on a dingy bathroom floor in a nondescript high school, backpack held close to their chest, hair dripping wet with some liquid Hoseok doesn’t really want to think about. They sit as far away from the locked door as they can get. A little window, high on the wall, serving very few purposes of an actual window, shines late afternoon sun on the grimy tile. Just late enough for the first stars of the evening, the brightest to be seen in the pale blue. The teen stares at what little sky they can see through the window.
“I wish I could leave all this behind.”
The scene freezes in front of them.
Beomgyu walks through the wish particles, scattering them like dust before they reform into the scene around him. He bends forward to look closely at the teen.
“What do you think happened?”
“What do you think they’re trying to leave behind, is a better question,” Hoseok guides. They can’t change the past. They can’t even change the future. All they can do is bring a little peace to the present.
“School,” Yeonjun says.
“Bullies,” pipes up Hyuka.
“One in the same,” Yeonjun counters.
Hoseok has heard enough desperate wishes to know sometimes it runs deeper and darker than just a location and the people that inhabit it.
“Okaaaay,” Hoseok draws out. “Thoughts?”
“Soobin might be a know it all, but he’s right. We don’t want to grant this one on a technicality,” Yeonjun says. “It wouldn’t be fair for a kid that’s already hurting, and it creates a wish feedback loop.”
Hoseok makes sweet obnoxious cooing noises over Yeonjun knowing they’re currently working on a thesis regarding wish feedback loops. He also knows despite the earlier teasing that the research heavily references and builds on Hoseok’s own from years ago.
“Junnie is right! If we grant the wish on a technicality of say getting them out of the bathroom or out of school for a day, and so on, this poor kid is going to be right back where they started.”
Or worse, he doesn’t have the heart to say.
“So, we move them to a new school,” Taehyun suggests.
“How?”
“We can’t just get them transferred?” Kai asks.
“We could,” Hoseok says with a nod, circling the scene. “We could have them transferred for academic excellence-“
“Oh that’s nice,” Beomgyu comments.
“But their family might not have the funds for that.”
“Is there something else we could have them transferred for?” Taehyun asks, sitting down next to the teen.
“Anything else is usually probation or punishment based. That would likely do more harm than good. Think outside the box.”
“Oh!” Kai whips his head around, high energy even higher. “Soobin’s thing!”
Hoseok gives him a wink and a finger gun.
Soobin, a bashful shade of pink and refusing to look at anyone else, taps a few things into his Pocket Granter, then brings his hand up, raising a second bubble from the abyss.
This time, he keeps the bubble intact, motioning it closer but allowing the wish to play. A man in a suit, slumped against a desk piled high with papers and notes and folders, dark spots under his eyes where he rubs them.
“I wish Mr. Takanori would give me the time of day. I know my proposal is the best out there. That position in Toronto would be mine.”
“Her dad,” Soobin informs them. “Wished three days ago, grant pending.”
“Two wishes in one,” Kai says, a little in awe.
“Wish Linking. Or Wish Waterfall. I haven’t decided yet.” Soobin shakes his head a little bit, still fiddling with his Po-G. “If we grant this wish, there will be a chain reaction of events that will allow us to easily grant the other wish. With this method, not only is the quota met more easily but the Grants are more structurally sound, no feedback loops.” He smiles at Yeonjun before getting too shy and looking away again, clearing his throat.
Hoseok knows the two of them are going to go far. He’s watched them go from a somewhat begrudging coworking relationship to a sound partnership, bouncing ideas off each other and using the other’s ideas to build their work.
And if he’s seen those long work conversations fade into even longer non-work conversations, Hoseok keeps it to himself.
“When the board officially clears it, think of how much more thorough we can be,” Hoseok says proudly.
Soobin just nods, thumb swiping at the Po-G. “Granting wish case ZX54017.”
The bubble bursts into shimmering gold light, throwing little rainbows all around the room for one brief moment.
Hoseok feels the notification go off on his own Po-G.
“Mark this case as Active-Granting and tag me to it as well as you, Soobin,” Hoseok instructs. “We’ll come back to it after Dad has his day.”
“Will do.”
“I think we’re done for the day. Wrap up whatever you’re working on. I’ll see you all tomorrow.”
Hoseok heads out of the room first, before it can get too overly formal. He has a boatload of paperwork to get through before he’s done for the day anyway. Better not delay.
In his office, he dims the lights, slides out of his shoes and collapses on the couch in the corner. He pulls some paperwork his way to shuffle through recent reports.
Unexpectedly, he thinks of his dad.
It’s been awhile since his parents decided to go to the ends of the known universe to finish out their lives before going supernova. He should visit them soon.
He thinks of that home office and wonders how his dad got anything done.
Truly the definition of torture! Kids interrupting at all hours. Dishes and laundry and other housework staring him in the eye all day, begging to be done. How could he focus?
And that’s not to mention the absolute requirement of separating home and work. You’d catch him as a full blown black hole before you’d catch him working from home, he thinks as he shuts everything down and closes up his office, heading in the direction of home.
He takes the Starline to his stop, just a short walk to his apartment, Po-G in hand the whole time. He checks and responds to his work mail, the work bubble chat, his friends bubble chat, comprised entirely of coworkers, checks the Wish Cases assigned to his Wishlings, the ones assigned to him and the progress of any wishes he’s granted recently to ensure proper handling. He’s still nose to his Po-G when he lets himself into the apartment, barely remembering the trek itself.
With a sigh, he removes his shoes at the door, carefully putting them away and continues swiping through the granted wishes. He has half a mind to turn back around and go back into the office. One of his cases is not being given the resources he allocated. Maybe he’ll just call and give processing an earful.
Either way it’ll be a long night.
He takes a deep, centering breath, letting his eyes close.
When he opens them he is a man of action once more. He enters the connection code on his Po-G and barely lets poor Vernon in processing greet him, apprehensive face filling the screen, before asking a hundred questions.
…..
He gets the issue settled, it's deep into a cycle of the Always Night and Hoseok is exhausted.
There’s far too little time until he needs to be back in the office, but he thinks he has just enough time for a long bath and a short rest. In his bedroom, he lays out a change of clothes, his softest comfort wear. He starts the water for a hot bath, and on a whim, he turns on that old Wish Radio.
He hasn’t touched the thing in years and part of him wonders if it will even work after all this time, but eventually, after several minutes of buzzing and humming, a bubble forms.
Hoseok lowers himself into the hot bath, feeling the day melt away. He leans back and lets the wishes wash over him, a nostalgic soothing balm.
Some of these wishes very well may be assigned to him or his team, and he’ll have to listen to them all over again but with the mindset of problem solving, of approving or denying and not of the same childlike wonder of hearing someone’s deepest hopes and dreams.
The water creeps further up his chest and neck and up to his chin as he lets himself melt, eyes closing, probably too close to the edge of sleep for comfort in a full bathtub.
It feels good.
He’ll get out in just a second..
Just a…
“Star light, star bright… tch stupid-“
Hoseok inhales a mouthful of water. He bolts upright in the tub.
He looks everywhere, at all the bubbles floating gently in the steamy air of his bathroom.
Still hacking, coughing, eyes watering, he quickly gets out of the bath. He turns off the radio.
He pops the bubbles that hold images of little children, of the elderly, anyone he can quickly tell isn’t who he’s looking for. Except, he doesn’t actually know who he’s looking for anymore. It’s been years since he’s seen Taehyung.
By some luck he manages to eliminate all but one bubble, still bobbing through the air.
He can’t see much. Just a figure, hunched on the floor, hoodie pulled over their head, face tucked into their arms, pulling their knees in tight.
Hoseok holds his breath while he watches it.
“I wish… I don’t know. I wish I didn’t exist. Or that I’d never been born.” The voice is so much deeper than Hoseok remembers it. So much sadder. “I wish… ugh. It doesn’t matter.”
The bubble pops and Hoseok is left stunned beyond belief. He feels unmoored. He wonders briefly if he simply fell asleep in the tub and all of this is just a dream.
…..
Hoseok races back to the office.
He would fight the staff of the Starline if he thought it would make it go any faster. His hair is still damp when he skids into what the kids lovingly refer to as The War Room.
Without preamble, without even turning on the lights, he taps into the Always Night. On his Po-G, he searches for the exact wording he remembers from last night, seared into his mind. He can’t even say memory, as it’s still playing on constant loop in his head.
With rushed movements, he pulls the bubble from the abyss and pops it, letting the scene unfold around him. This time he’s paying attention when the wish starts, this time he sees the man’s face as he stares up at the night sky, tears edging over lashes and cascading down sharp cheekbones.
He’s beautiful.
It aches deep in Hoseok’s chest to look at him.
This cannot be his Taehyung.
He checks the Case on his Po-G.
Kim Taehyung, Age 29
Currently Residing Japan
Wish Activity Low
Has it been that long?
He flips through Taehyung’s archived wishes, and he can’t decide if he’s relieved or heartbroken to know that not a single wish has been made in all these years. The case hasn’t been assigned yet, so Hoseok makes a few quick fwips with his thumb to assign himself and move it to the top of his task list but he’s met with a block. An error.
Absolutely not.
He marches straight into his senior manager’s office, but she’s not even in yet. Hoseok goes back to The War Room and plays the short wish over and over until he has the very timbre and tone of it memorized.
“Did you sleep here?”
Hoseok nearly falls out of his chair at the sudden presence of Soobin and Kai.
“No, his hair is wet. He definitely went home, probably just came right back.”
“Do you sleep?” Soobin asks, part awe, part concern.
The others come in behind them and it’s the shot of adrenaline Hoseok needed. “Work on stuff!” He jumps up and skitters out of the room.
“What stuff?”
“You know!”
He’ll be a better mentor on another day. There is almost nothing he’d let come before work…
But this.
This is important.
“Mirae. There’s a case I want.”
“Hoseok. There are protocols,” she mimics back at him but still manages to make it feel like a gentle blow.
“I’ve claimed some in the past.”
“Yeah, dead cases. Untouchable cases. Is this one of those?”
“I… I don’t know.”
She looks at him a little surprised. Mirae doesn’t have to ask Hoseok a lot of questions. She doesn’t have to do a lot of correcting as a manager. He’s always thought she would have made an excellent Guiding Star in another life. But their dynamic is built on the back of Hoseok’s independence and drive.
He usually has the answer.
“Well, who has it been assigned to?”
“It hasn’t yet.” He pulls up his Po-G to confirm nothing has changed. “Unassigned. Assignment Pending. Grant Pending.”
She watches Hoseok thoughtfully. He doesn’t care for it.
“What is this case you want so bad?”
“It seems like a challenge,” he says, with perfect conviction conveyed. She doesn’t need to know the real reason. Wouldn’t understand the real reason.
“Send me the case file.”
Hoseok salutes her, just to make sure he comes off silly enough, aloof enough to not have her look any closer than she already is.
His thoughts are flying faster than he can track as he walks back to the War Room.
The kids finalize one of their longer Cases, finally working out the best Grant for the Wish. They breeze through some easier ones as well and start on what will hopefully be another case study for Soobin’s linking technique.
Hoseok feels like he’s sitting in the bath, letting everything around him just wash over and around him. He can’t focus.
He gets a response from Mirae just when he’s shutting down to go home.
Hoseok-
Case closed.
Wisher speaking in hyperbole. Granting unfounded.
Hoseok just barely catches her in the hallway.
“Mirae! Hey, I really think I can work with that.”
“Hoseok, please. I wish I was never born? Textbook pity party, and even if it wasn’t, we don’t pull those types of stunts, that’s for the angels and lesser deities to fuck around with.”
“Okay, but that man was clearly hurting. We can’t get creative to ease that pain a little?”
She sighs. “Best we can do is use this as part of a paper trail if he wishes again. If you’re that worked up about it, I can check with some of the foreign departments and see if his profile registers for anyone else.”
“No, no. It’s alright. You know I just love a good challenge,” he tries playing it off.
“Get some rest, Hoseok. You look like you slept here last night.”
And just like that she’s gone. Just like that, Taehyung has slipped through his fingers and he couldn’t even help him.
He obsesses over the wish. It’s all he can think about for days.
Taehyung is all he can think about.
He wonders and he worries.
If he himself could wish…
He’s taken to letting the Wish Radio run again. Something cracks deep inside him.
Unmoored.
He thinks of his mom. What would she say?
Maybe he could use a friend. You don’t have to wait for an invitation.
Hoseok gets out of the bath. He turns off the radio and gets dressed, body simply running through the motions.
His dad used to joke about granting wishes a little too willingly for the rules of the time. Hoseok would often hear him say “ask for forgiveness, not permission” to his mother.
Ask for forgiveness, not permission.
At the end of the Starline, far past where Hoseok ever takes it, is a stop for a single ticket booth and platform. Other than the ancient woman manning the booth, he’s the only one in sight.
He steps up and purchases his ticket.
“One way?” She croaks.”
“Not sure of my return date just yet.” He hopes he sounds convincing. Makes sure to let his Wishing Star lanyard and badge show without actually lying and saying it’s on official Star business.
She doesn’t say anything else, just prints him out a stub and hands it over, directing him to the platform.
He takes a deep breath, hasn’t done this since he got his license.
Pouring his energy into every fiber of his being, he tips forward and careens through the Always Night and out into the known universe in the direction of Earth.
A shooting star, glittering through the sky. The scientists will say it was a bit of space matter that broke up upon entry, but Hoseok manages to land perfectly in the middle of a field of rolling green, bluegrey mountains off in the distance and the edges of a city in view.
Earth.
He smiles, he made it. The smile slowly slips off his face. He has no idea where he is. He barely knows anything about Earth. He came here with no plan-
Oh god, he came here with no plan.
With immense effort to not start panicking, Hoseok looks down at the ground. He squats down, runs his finger tips over the edges of the greenery underfoot.
“Gotchya,” he says, plucking a clover. “Namjoon! I need you!”
He stares at the four leaf clover, and hopes. It’s really all he has right now.
“Hoseok?”
Whipping around, he sees Namjoon standing in the field behind him. He’s grown. He’s so tall and beefy now. But he’s still his Namjoonie, he hopes.
“What are you doing here? Did you call me with a clover?” He asks, seeing the leaves in Hoseok’s hand.
“Yes! I need your help.”
“Are you alright?” Namjoon comes closer, looking him over before pulling him into a tight hug.
“I’m okay. I just need to find someone but I don’t know where I am or how to find them.”
Namjoon pulls back, his brow furrowed. “They sent you here without the proper tools or assistance?”
“No.”
“No, they didn’t send you without the proper assistance?”
“No, they didn’t send me.”
Namjoon’s confusion arcs through many emotions before settling on thrilled. “You’ve gone rogue.”
“No I haven’t.”
“The most by the books star I’ve ever known and you’ve gone rogue!”
He laughs, that loud singular bark of a laugh like he’s just too filled with joy to keep it all in. And Hoseok wants to be irritated, he really does, but wow he’s missed his friend.
“Shut up.” He ends up laughing too.
“So what’s got you going awol? Finally realized you were working yourself to an early collapse and decided to take a vacation?”
“No. I’m working.”
“But you said.”
“Unofficially.
“Uh huh…”
“Stop asking me questions and tell me how to get to Japan.” Namjoon starts laughing all over again. “Stop laughing at me!”
“Sorry. Sorry.” He wipes dramatically at an eye. “Japan is pretty big, do you know where in Japan you’re trying to get?”
“No,” Hoseok answers, crestfallen.
“Well, lucky for you, you landed in Japan.” Namjoon pulls out a very strange looking Po-G and types away at it. “We’re a little outside of Yokohama.”
Hoseok tries to think if that’s helpful information. Taehyung’s profile only said Japan.
The tapping continues until Namjoon holds the odd contraption up to his head. He looks ridiculous.
“Hey, sorry babe, I got summoned. Yeah. Yeah, I know.” He laughs and it’s more gentle and sweet than Hoseok has ever heard from Namjoon. “Japan. Mmhmm… I know! Okay, well, actually I was thinking maybe you just want to come out here?…. Part work, part vacation… Yeah. Okay, I love you. We’ll pick you up at Haneda… Yeah, ‘we’. I’ll explain later.”
Namjoon pockets the device.
“What was that?”
“That was Jimin.”
“Who the hell is Jimin?”
Namjoon turns a shade Hoseok has never seen on him before. “He’s my partner.”
“Partner.”
“Like, boyfriend… Dating. Stop making me an awkward teenager again!”
Hoseok nearly falls over laughing, just barely catching himself on Namjoon. They start walking across the fields and towards the nearest buildings. He makes sure to pull in his glow, tucking it all the way inside his chest long before they’ll run into anyone that might see him.
…..
Earth is weird.
It’s loud and it’s chaotic and it’s dirty and it’s weird.
Hoseok doesn’t understand how Namjoon has been living here for as long as he has. It must be exhausting!
There are all these lovely rules in place everywhere they go that seemingly no one quite adheres to in the same way or at all in some cases.
Namjoon buys him a little plastic thing when they get inside what he tells Hoseok is a train station. He shows him how to scan it and where to go, leading the way through the station with ease and confidence, Hoseok’s fingers clinging to the back of his shirt for fear of being swept up in the ocean waves of people around them. It’s like the Starline but… Not.
He nearly keels over when Namjoon tells him they’ve gotten lucky and found themselves in a smaller station that’s not too busy for his first time. There are so many screens with so many words and numbers, rapidly switching between pieces of information before he has time to fully digest what he’s reading. He overhears so many conversations, ranging from the mundane to things he has no understanding of. Things he’s only heard of in the context of wishes. His head feels full to bursting with the overload of information and the tension of being surrounded by so many people.
So many humans.
It isn’t long before Namjoon is guiding him to get on the train, nudging him into an open seat and the view of the station begins to slide away.
He fires off a message to Mirae that he won’t be in to work for at least a day. He’s come down with a sudden solar flare. He pockets his Po-G and ignores the incoming notifications. Ignores the fact he’s never called in sick a day in his life.
Hoseok stares out the window, watching the scenery fly by, changing from town to city and back and forth until they’re in the heart of Tokyo according to Namjoon. The anxiety wanes and he’s left fully rapt by the journey at hand. Even when it gets busier and louder and more chaotic, Hoseok can’t help but be delighted by the oddities, the intoxicating smells, the joy and irritation and the rush on people’s faces as they pass them exiting the train and walking through a new building.
“There he is.”
For a moment, Hoseok’s stomach tightens in a way he’s never felt before. How could Namjoon have spotted Taehyung?
Except it isn’t Taehyung.
Namjoon is leading them towards a man smiling so big, his eyes have become crescents. He’s more compact than either Namjoon or Hoseok, but he looks sturdy. He pulls Namjoon into a tight hug and Hoseok can see how both of their arms strain.
This must be Jimin.
Hoseok politely looks away.
“Hello!” He gets pulled from his thoughts that are definitely not spiraling or turning sour by a very sweet and gentle voice. “I’m Jimin.”
Jimin, as it turns out, is very good looking and very personable and every bit deserving of Namjoon’s sweet nothings, which is both incredibly irritating and wholly comforting.
“I’m Hoseok.” He puts on his very best smile, the one for board meetings and impressing friends of his parents.
“Oh! Joonie has told me so much about you. He does have a kind face,” Jimin says to Namjoon, nodding like he approves.
Hoseok is caught between graciously arguing and politely accepting when Namjoon scoffs.
“He’s not as nice as he looks.”
The look he fixes Namjoon with is fit to pierce armor. Namjoon sees it and balks, but Jimin laughs of all things.
“Oh, I like him already.”
“I just meant we used to-“
“Save it,” Hoseok says.
It’s not like Namjoon’s wrong. And honestly if anyone knows him well enough to actually know him , it’s probably Namjoon.
They get back on the train, unfortunately, but Jimin promises that it’s just a few quick stops before theirs. He was able to book a hotel while he was waiting to board.
“Your timing is very impeccable. That seems like a lot to get done in a short amount of time, is all of that easier than it sounds?” Hoseok asks.
“God no,” Namjoon grumbles. There’s still a tinge of amusement hidden in it though as he walks a few paces behind, now carrying the bags Jimin had brought with him.
Jimin smiles up at Hoseok and it’s as brilliant as any constellation Hoseok has ever seen.
“I’m just very lucky.”
“You can tell him.”
Jimin looks over his shoulder for a moment and then around them as they walk down a more quiet street in an otherwise bustling city.
“I’m a Lucky Cat, to be more specific.”
And oh. Of course.
Hoseok can’t help but laugh rather fondly. A Clover and a Lucky Cat.
“You must be the luckiest couple in the entire world.”
“We are,” Jimin says with hearts in his eyes, glancing back at Namjoon. “But our luck actually often cancels each other out.”
“I break nearly everything in sight and Jimin can trip or fall off of, into, or over anything and nothing,” Namjoon laughs.
“You were already like that,” Hoseok points out.
Namjoon rolls his eyes. “Fine but it’s worse now.”
“Still the luckiest,” Jimin murmurs, mouth pulled into a little smile while he looks back down at his weird Po-G. “Here we are.”
He stops short in front of an older building in the center of the block they were walking down. There’s a little garden to the right with moss and stones, a lone maple tree curving up and over the little pathway to the front entrance. Jimin clicks a button on the side of the Po-G-like device and pockets it, smiling at Hoseok and Namjoon. He leads the way through the automatic door.
Hoseok hangs back while Jimin chats with the young woman behind the desk. Jimin is all sweet smiles and bubbly laughter, but Hoseok feels like he could bolt right back out of the door. He’s normally the first to start a conversation, the first to introduce himself, get things done. But he feels completely out of step here, one move from falling through the sky and back into the Always Night. As if any word he could trip over would tip off the humans around him that he is not one of them. That he’s other .
And how soon would that call attention from the stars?
The anxiety gnaws at him. Namjoon stands with him, waves when the young woman looks in their direction. Eventually she’s handing over something wrapped in paper to Jimin and Namjoon nudges Hoseok to move.
They ride in a very scary little compartment to another part of the building with a long hallway and many numbered doors. It’s a lot like his apartment back home but decidedly less homey feeling. Jimin uses what appears to be train cards wrapped in paper to turn a box on the door green and lets them into one of the apartments.
Well… sort of an apartment. Like half an apartment. It’s very small, but there’s a place to cook and beds and a bathroom, so Hoseok supposes humans just don’t need that much space.
How did Namjoon adjust to this?
“I hope you’re okay sharing with us,” Jimin says, removing his shoes at the door. Namjoon does the same, so at least not everything is different here. “I didn’t want to run the risk of the hotel requiring your ID on file to book you a separate room. But, I did at least get one we can section off so you can have a little privacy.”
He walks past the little cooking area, some doors, and the medium sized bed, to a set of thin wooden frames with white paper covering the spaces between the delicate panes. He slides one of the frames, and Hoseok watches as it cascades into the next and next until the entire wall condenses into a single panel. It reveals a raised platform with a sort of thatched flooring. Some bedding has been laid out on the floor to one side and a small table with chairs with no legs sits to the other side.
“It’s traditional Japanese flooring and bedding,” Namjoon says. “Probably more comfortable than our bed from what I remember from the last time I was in Japan.”
“Okay.”
“You hate it,” Jimin says. It’s not quite a question, but he says it like he’s hoping for an answer anyway.
“No. I’m trying to adjust.”
“You can take the bed,” Jimin offers. “Either sharing with Joonie or me or-“
Hoseok turns around and places a hand on Jimin’s arm. “This is fine. Thank you for considering my privacy.”
Jimin’s eyes shine a little. They bounce back and forth between each of Hoseok’s, watching for some sort of sign. Eventually he nods.
“I packed some extras of mine and Joon’s clothes. I didn’t really know what I was showing up to, but I felt like I should pack extras of everything. Glad I did.”
Hoseok watches as Jimin starts digging through the bags he’s brought with him, setting aside various items and clothing, handing some to Namjoon and oddly some to Hoseok.
“What is this?”
“You didn’t bring anything right?”
“…No.”
“Okay, well, until we can get you your own things, you can borrow ours.”
Hoseok has never had to borrow more than a writing utensil from someone before. He knows he’s lucky, even if he isn’t a clover or anything like that. It stirs something in his chest.
“Thank you, Jimin.”
Should Jimin ever wish on a star…
They settle in for the night. Thankfully bathtubs work here just like they do in the Always Night, and Hoseok takes a nice long soak. When he emerges, Jimin is just coming back from somewhere with a bag.
“Dinner!”
He shows Hoseok something called a microwave and a seemingly endless variety of foods from a conbini . Nothing is familiar but it’s all delicious and even the strange bed on the floor looks like a dream.
Unfortunately, once the lights are out and things have gone quiet and Hoseok is just on the blissful edge of sleep-
Namjoon starts snoring.
With walls literally paper thin, he might as well be sharing the bed with his old friend. He tries to muffle the sound with his pillow, the blanket, his arm. Anything!
He can feel the events of the day catching up to him. He’s caught somewhere between wanting to cry and wanting to suffocate Namjoon with the pillow.
After contemplating the fallout from either, he gets up and quietly slides the partition to the side and pads across the room.
He slips his shoes on and grabs one of those train plastic card things from the long built in dresser and as quietly as possible, lets himself out of the room.
Luckily there is a sign for stairs and he doesn’t have to ride the scary thing back to the first floor. The lobby is empty and only lit in low light, a sign on the front desk saying to call if assistance is needed.
The only thing Hoseok needs right now is some fresh air and a moment to himself.
He steps outside, the temperature cooler from earlier in the day. He looks up at the sky, expecting judging eyes to be staring straight back at him, but here in the city, he can’t quite see the stars.
A noise across the streets startles him. A rattling, crashing metallic sort of noise.
His eyes land on the glow of a strange box, bigger than a man. There’s a rummaging sort of sound followed by a pop-hiss that makes Hoseok jump. A dark shape, low to the ground, grows bigger and more imposing until its form nearly blocks out the light of the machine. As it comes closer, the menacing shadow morphs, the edges no longer distorted by the backlight.
It’s a person.
“Oh, sorry. Were you waiting to get a drink?”
Hoseok’s breath catches in his chest.
“I’ll get out of your way.”
The man takes a sip of his drink, stepping closer to where Hoseok is, passing him by and heading into the hotel Hoseok had just exited-
Kim Taehyung, Age 29
Currently Residing Japan
Wish Activity Low