Chapter Text
When Yoongi awoke he emerged slowly, sluggish and achy with weariness he surely had no reason to feel so deeply within his bones. Despite the haziness of the dream he had awoken from, the feelings it had invoked within him still lingered. An overwhelming sense of pain and loss. A longing for love and sunshine. In his mind a single image remained: of a hare jumping through sunbeams sparkling over a gently flowing river.
Also, he was hungry. Right now he was really craving oranges.
He never got to satisfy that craving though, for the moment someone realized he was awake he was barraged by questions from a tall bespectacled man in a white coat. He was speaking weirdly, a dialect that took Yoongi far too long to pick up on. The man was harassing him incessantly, expecting answers even as he shone a small light directly into Yoongi’s eyes.
What’s your name? Where did you come from? Do you remember what happened? What's the cell number of your emergency contact?
God, he was too tired for this. If he could just rest for a moment, if this man would just leave him alone, he could answer his questions and get back home. He just needed a moment and he’d remember…
Yoongi didn’t know many things about himself.
There were only two things he knew for certain, and the only reason he knew those two things was because other people told him they were true. First, he knew that he was an omega, with the scent of lotus blossoms. Secondly, he knew that because he was an omega, this meant that he had met his soulmate—for only those lucky enough to find their other half are able to present.
He couldn’t remember meeting his soulmate though. To be honest, he didn’t remember anything at all from before only a few short years ago. This didn’t really bother him. He didn’t remember enough about himself or the world to mourn what he apparently must have lost.
The only bothersome thing was being looked at with pity.
Because he was presented, people always asked about his soulmate. At first he would simply tell them the truth: that he didn’t know where or who they were. That he couldn’t remember them at all. The nonchalance in which he would admit this always left a shocking effect on the people he told. The word spread quickly within the limited circle trying to help him to get on his feet. And then it spread beyond that circle, and the whispers followed. Haven’t you heard? Min Yoongi doesn’t know his soulmate. He forgot everything, including them. Can you believe that? How horribly tragic.
Or the worst: feeling their eyes on him, judging like, how dare you forget your soulmate? As if he did it on purpose.
It was unbearable being surrounded by so many people who knew this about him. That’s why, when the opportunity to move back out to the country was proposed to him, Yoongi took it without a moment’s hesitation. They said being back out there might help. It was where he was found, after all, before the doctor had him transferred to the hospital in the city. Maybe going back would jog his memory, is what they said. Or someone might recognize him and finally solve the mystery of his existence.
He didn’t care about any of that. He just wanted to get away.
Starting fresh he could do things differently. He could lie when people started asking questions. If he was lucky, if he played his cards right, maybe they’d finally leave him alone.
It was easy for him to adjust to the lax schedule of the countryside: he took frequent naps throughout the day, during the brightest hours. He dreamed of sunshine. While he didn’t make a point in doing so, somehow Yoongi was awake to see every sunrise and sunset.
And when the sunlight sparkled over the river, he swore he could see hares jumping through the sunbeams.
Winter was giving one last push before spring could finally start to come in earnest, a feeble snow coating the ground each night just enough to make everything wet and dirty once the sun came up. Yoongi was getting restless being stuck inside, and so found himself shuffling down the aisles of the small grocery store. Despite his bid for a change of scenery, he didn’t stop to browse the admittedly limited selection as he beelined for his usual staples. He just really didn’t like to spend much time indoors. Enclosed spaces made him feel claustrophobic. Plus, being in a public place like this increased the likelihood of someone catching a whiff of his lotus blossoms and presentation, and asking questions he had no intention of answering.
As he made his way to the checkout counter, he passed the small fruit section. Every shopping trip he found himself scanning over the contents of the citrus fruits as he tried to pin down the exact craving he couldn’t quite identify. This time he found himself picking up a box of tangerines.
After getting home and putting everything away, he grabbed one and peeled it easily with his fingers. He ate the slices slowly, savouring the sweet taste on his tongue. He found himself feeling a little disappointed though. This pack was definitely too sweet compared to what he had wanted.
Oh well. It was still a perfectly good box of tangerines.
Even after he washed his hands, the scent from the peel lingered on his fingers the rest of the day.
When the majority of the snow had melted except for within the shadows, Yoongi was finally able to get out of the house. He spent those first few weeks waiting for everything to dry by scoping out the river just outside of town. The stretch of it here was wide and slow flowing, the trek across the bridge and around to the far side a considerable distance for a casual stroll.
As things finally began to dry, Yoongi made a point of retreating from the more well worn paths. The place he most frequently found himself was off the main walkway at the far side of the river, down a steep slope towards the water’s edge. The place was covered in spindly stick bushes, bare at the moment as spring still slowly eased its way in.
The moment it was dry enough, he slid down the slope and found a secluded spot among the brambles. He breathed in the fresh air, enjoying the cool breeze off of the water. Distantly he could still hear the sounds of the town, and vehicles still drove past on the main road. But he felt at peace here.
Eventually he pulled his bag open and took out his notebook. Someone had suggested he pick up writing to see if subconsciously anything could be extracted from within his mind. That wasn’t what he used it for though. He had taken a liking to music (another failed method of jogging his memory) and began jotting down ideas for lyrics, rhymes, whatever came to mind. Being in solitude, he was able to let it occupy his mind so thoroughly that he failed to pay any attention to his surroundings.
So when something nudged gently against his side, it caught Yoongi so unaware that he flinched away in alarm, his arm swinging wildly to fling whatever had touched him away. He wasn’t fast enough to hit it, but he watched with wide eyes as a hare flung itself backwards spectacularly, performing a mid air acrobatics flip before dashing down the bank and vanishing among the scattered shrubbery.
Yoongi’s heart thumped wildly in his chest. Rather than frightened, he was intrigued. Was this what it was like in the countryside? Wildlife moseying up against you, like in some sort of fairy tale? It was a whimsical thought.
He felt guilty over not allowing the moment to continue.
For hours Yoongi remained sitting there, trying to focus on writing, but helplessly distracted by his constant need to glance off down the bank in hopes of spotting the hare returning. It never did. He vaguely thought it must have been his sentimental omegan instincts that made him fixate on this event so strongly. Even the words he was writing had drifted into the fantastical.
At some point he put his notebook down and laid back, uncaring of the dirt as he drifted off to sleep.
When he finally climbed back up the slope at the end of the day, the sun nearing the horizon and painting everything in red, Yoongi felt the familiar sensation of being watched. When he raised his head from his feet, he met the gaze of a man standing on the path.
He was gorgeous. His hair looked red in the sunset, swept back over his forehead from the gentle breeze. Even his skin seemed to glow in the warm light of the sunset, as though he were an ethereal being who was emitting the light from within his own body. The gaze he fixated on Yoongi was too intense for Yoongi to meet back.
And he was watching Yoongi crawl up from within the shrubbery, dirt all over his clothing and twigs caught in his hair. Was Yoongi even allowed to go down there? It was one thing to be scolded by old women, but if someone this handsome chastised him he would surely die from the embarrassment.
“Ah,” Yoongi sighed, bowing his head and rushing past the man quickly. As he passed, he finally caught the telltale scent of alpha pheromones, and a sharp, citrusy scent that was so intense he could taste it on his tongue.
Of course someone who looked like that would be presented. Would have met their soulmate.
Then again, so had Yoongi.
Why did he feel so much regret as he left the man behind without once looking back.
Yoongi could still taste his citrus scent.
That night he dreamed of sunshine. Of oranges and blossoms, and hares that sat on lily pads.