The Truth Untold

A garden made of solitude. You bloomed in every hue. How fiercely I have wanted you — But now your time is through.

And I, grotesque in endless years, Condemned to stand alone, My sentence carved in doubts and tears, A ruin turned to stone.

“V…” The voice was so much like Yoona’s — and yet, he knew, it wasn’t her. “You must be Lana, right? Yoona spoke of you so often,” he replied gently. V stepped forward, light blooming in his chest after weeks of solitude. If Lana was here, then surely Yoona would follow soon. But when he saw the woman’s face — grief hollowing her eyes, her robe the color of mourning — his hope began to crumble. “You’ve already guessed, haven’t you?” Lana whispered, her tears falling onto the soil. “No!” The captive fell to his knees, clawing his fingers into the ground. “No, no, no… she can’t—Yoona can’t be dead!” “She tried to protect a man being beaten in the street. Someone pushed her, she fell, hit her temple… It was instant, V.” The silence that followed seemed endless. “I know it hurts to hear this, but I think Yoona would have wanted you to know. She loved you deeply.” “I never thought my dead heart could break again…” He whispered her name, still refusing to believe. Denial soon burned into fury — at the world, at fate, at himself. The emerald fire in his eyes ignited. “They killed her, and I didn’t protect her because I was forced to live in this cursed garden!” He rushed toward the gate, meaning to tear it open — and to his astonishment, passed straight through the invisible barrier. The chains no longer bound him. But since when? A storm raged inside him: rage at injustice, grief, lost love, unbearable sorrow. He stopped just beyond the gate, turned his back to the garden that had been both prison and tomb, tore the mask from his face and threw it to the ground. It shattered in two. “V…” Lana’s voice trembled. She stood among the flowers, surrounded by fragrant blooms as fragile and beautiful as her untimely departed sister. He turned, and her knees nearly gave way. Never before had she seen such a face. Tears glistened in his green eyes; pain marked his perfect features... and yet he was beautiful beyond belief. “You…” she breathed, unable to find words. “Why aren’t you afraid of my face?” he cried. “No, better that you see it. Blame me. Hate me. Despise me. I didn’t save her. If only I had been there…” “It’s not your fault, V. Now I understand why my sister loved you so much. Your soul is beautiful and pure. And your face... your face only reflects that.”

***

Seoul.

Present Day

Humanity had long lost its magic, buried beneath the hum of wires and the pulse of electricity. True wonder had been replaced by technology, and the world sank into circuits and code. Only a few green sanctuaries remained, the Royal Botanical Garden being one of them, an immense oasis under a glass dome filled with trees, shrubs, cacti, and countless flowers. Min Yoongi worked in the HYBE skyscraper right next to the garden. His office window overlooked a field of pale blue blossoms — flowers that, for some reason, always looked quietly sad. After long days of work, he liked to stroll among them with a takeaway coffee, breathing in the oxygen-rich air and pretending, even if just for a moment, that peace was real. It always felt as if time had stopped there. But something else called him back again and again — something his mind couldn’t explain. A longing. A missing piece. Even with a career, friends, success, and comfort, Yoongi often felt an unbearable loneliness. Yet here, in this place, that loneliness seemed to pause. “Um… excuse me?” A timid voice broke through his thoughts. Yoongi blinked, realizing he had stopped in the middle of the narrow path, blocking the way. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he said automatically and then frowned. “Wait… do I know you?” Something inside him trembled, something ancient, unnameable. Their eyes met, and a thousand years collapsed into nothing. A spark. A shock. Recognition. V froze. That face. Those eyes. From another life, where for a brief moment, he had felt loved — and had loved with all his soul. “Yoon...” “Yoongi, yes! So we do know each other? Remind me of your name?” “They call me Kim Taehyung now. But please… call me V.” The air seemed to vanish from Yoongi’s lungs. Memories from dreams, fragments of something lost... a man in a mask, a velvet voice, the missing piece of his soul. “I don’t understand… Who are you? Who are you to me?” “If you allow it,” V said softly, “I’ll tell you everything.” The emerald glow in his eyes radiated tenderness, warmth, and eternity. So sincere it made Yoongi’s chest ache. He couldn’t look away, didn’t even want to blink. And somehow, he knew that from this moment on, he would never be alone again. “You were once called Yoona,” V began, “and I was cursed by men who damned themselves instead. Your death freed me from their chains but not from immortality. That was my new curse: to live in a world without you. I longed to die, but death never came. So I learned to live with the pain, and in time I discovered that my gift of healing was powerful enough to grant life — even eternal life. But except for you, Yoona… Yoongi… I would never offer eternity to anyone else.” His voice, velvet and low, wrapped around Yoongi’s mind like a spell. He spoke of magic, of loss, of the centuries he had endured alone, waiting for the soul he once loved to return. “I wish I could say I don’t believe you,” Yoongi whispered, stepping closer until their breaths mingled. “But right now, it feels like I’m waking up. Like I’ve been dreaming my whole life, searching for you and never finding you. Thank you for waiting. Thank you for letting me see your face again. In every life I’ve lived, there has never been — and never will be — anyone more beautiful than you.” “Will you let me give you my gift?” V asked, his voice trembling. “Will you let me make you immortal?” “I want this life to be my last,” Yoongi said softly, “and endless — beside you.” “No more unspoken truths,” V promised. “I swear, we’ll never lose each other again.” Their kiss was bittersweet, tasting of shattered hearts and centuries apart. But the joy of reunion healed every wound in a blink of an eye. Yoongi kissed his found treasure, holding him close — closer — as if proximity alone could erase time itself. “Closer,” he whispered against V’s lips. “I need you closer. The era of curses ends here. I don’t care how long it took.” “I’m sorry it took me so long,” Yoongi murmured into the kiss. “And I’m sorry I’m not her.” “No regrets, my love,” V answered softly. “What matters is that you believed me. And that you’re here. With me.”