Notes: I finally finished it! Thank you for waiting, I hope you all enjoy it! This is my longest fic ever so I’m very proud although at some points I did want to scrap this entire thing. My requests are open, although I ask that you please read my FAQ first. Thank you, please enjoy this magic shop au!
Words: 9,013
Warnings: Cursing, angst
You were used to people coming and going, it was a magic shop after all. You were supposed to trade things for whatever you needed, or wanted. You were used to strange people checking out your store, it was masked as a normal store after all. But there was something that drew people in, perhaps it was the smell, the way that it smelled uniquely to each person. One might smell vanilla and honey, another might catch a whiff of pumpkin spice.
Things were always changing, whether it be seasons, years, people especially. You were a part of the shop, it was your soul that became a place for people to trade their items for equivalent things. Maybe a child would bring you their first and most treasured stuffed animal, their only wish being that their parents would stop fighting. Sometimes it would be an old man trading the first ever pair of shoes he bought with his own money, just to have a conversation with his recently passed wife.
There were limits of course, rules needed to be there otherwise the shop would run out of magic. The trades had to be of value, you couldn’t just walk in with a newly brought bottle of wine and trade it for a older one. The trader had to be bound to the item, it needed to have a story. The trades had to be of equivalent value. There was no way of scamming, it was magic after all. No secrets could be held inside of the small shop. The shop had to still make a profit, thus you sold small rocks and other small good luck keychains. Lastly, you couldn’t leave the shop.
The last rule had more explaining needed, it would go on for decades, and you still weren’t completely sure why either. If you tried to leave, the shop would lose it’s magic, there would be no place for you to return to. This was your home, this was your purpose. You watched and traded to see others stories, what they had lived through, what their purpose was. You thought your story was over, you thought that it had finished.
Perhaps you hadn’t checked to see if there was a sequel.
The first one to show up had been a boy named Taehyung. He was only seven but you could feel something inside of him. Usually humans gave off little to no magic, but Taehyung held the aura of magic, quite a lot of it. His black tousled hair framed a black eye, a frown drawn on his face. You could tell that he wandered into your store without a clue of what it really was, he hadn’t heard the stories of a magic store where you could trade your own items for someone else’s.
Bending down, so you were eye level with the young boy, you smiled. He was unsure as he smiled back, his front tooth missing. His small hand gripped at the bottom of his shirt, his clothes were most likely hand me downs, they all had small holes with patches covering the necessary spots.
“How can I help you, young man?”
Taehyung giggled, his eyes closing as he laughed. His aura grew, taking over the entire center of the room. You were sure that he wasn’t a typical human and you were sure as he grew older he’d come to find that out as well. When Taehyung opened his eyes, a flash of gold glimmered before returning to a chocolate brown.
“Why does the store smell like chocolate? There is none here!”
His voice was light, almost like he was singing. It held firm though, he stood strong, he knew what adults were capable of. The smile on his face showed that he was trusting, possibly his innocence hadn’t be taken away just yet, but that black eye told a story. One that you had seen many times before, it was one that carried throughout time.
“It smells however you want it to, this shop is very kind.”
Taehyung looks at you oddly, his eyebrows furrowing as he thinks, his lips now in a pout. You brush off your apron, returning to behind the counter. His aura had shrunken back to it’s original size, a small gold radiating off of him, almost glowing.
“That’s weird.”
Kids were blunt, but you knew that this wasn’t Taehyung speaking. His eyes held anger as he thought over his words, someone had told him those words, someone held great anguish behind those words.
“That’s okay, sometimes it’s better to be weird.”
You were clearing off the counter, setting stray keychains where they belonged. Walking around the small shop as Taehyung watched you, made the store shake nervously, it didn’t like drawn out trades. But this wasn’t one that could be rushed, it was the beginning of something, you just didn’t know how important it would be.
“What do you sell here?”
Taehyung basically whispered, approaching the counter slowly. He was too small to peer over the top, making you laugh before pointing out the stool near him. Once he was stood on it and he could see the wall behind the counter, small trinkets and random things were organized into small piles. To some it might look like garbage, but each held a story, each was traded.
“Mostly stones and keychains, but we also make trades.”
Taehyung’s face grew bright when you mentioned trades, gold flashing through his brown orbs. You knew that he didn’t have money, most kids who stumbled upon the store ended up trading small pieces of childhood without even knowing it.
“Can I trade something?”
Taehyung’s voice was filled with hope, perhaps at the thought of getting something new. That probably didn’t happen very often. You nodded, a small smile on your face as you watched the young boy go through his pockets, attempting to find something to trade.
“What about this?”
Taehyung held up a red handkerchief, it was wrinkled and had a small stain on it, it was perfect. It was full of character, it was loved, it was beautiful. You nodded, taking the handkerchief in your hand. Flashes of a lady that resembled Taehyung went through your head, this is how you made sure every trade was equal.
Smiling at the excited boy, you told him to wait for a moment while you got him his part of the trade. Walking into the back room, you were quiet so you would be able to hear the whispers of the store. The walls sung for you to give him a key, the skeleton key that doubled as a bottle opener. It was on a small gray chain, looking like a necklace instead of a murder weapon. The story of that trade was one of your favorites, although it was quite long.
Grabbing the key, you thanked the walls quietly, if you were too loud the windows would become jealous and the floors would grow irritated. Walking out of the back room, you stopped at the counter. Giving Taehyung the key, feeling the weight shift from your palm to his own. His expression was pure joy, even if he didn’t know what it was for, it was beautiful.
“Thank you!”
You smiled softly, watching the black haired boy run his fingers over the edges of the key. The store shook, informing you that someone was coming. It was always slightly sad when people left, because they had given you a part of them, you felt like you knew them. Taehyung, like many others, wouldn’t stay this innocent. He had to grow up and if that black eye told you a story, it was that he was going to have to grow up quickly. The handkerchief was a part of his childhood, it was a part of him.
“You’re welcome. It’s time for you to go home, Taehyung.”
If he wasn’t so interested with the key, perhaps he would have asked how you knew his name. But he didn’t, instead he nodded, pocketed the key, and thanked you once more. He left the store with a smile on his face, looking much more childlike than he did before.
Folding up the handkerchief, you put it behind the counter. The door opened up with a creek, showing an elderly woman who wore confusion on her face.
“Good afternoon! How can I help you?”
A few years had passed without seeing Taehyung again. He was one of the few people that wandered into the store and you wondered what had become of them. Although everyone always had a story, not everyone’s always interested you.
It had been five years so the black haired boy was now approaching his teen years, the worst years some would call them, the best years others would say. You couldn’t say much about them, you didn’t age, forever stuck in you late teens. You never really grew either, ever since the day you made the first trade, before the shop had even opened.
“Excuse me?”
Someone’s voice knocked you out of your head, wondering how they had approached you without even realizing it. The voice belonged to a young teen, one who held a mean glare in his eyes. His aura didn’t match though, it being a orange cream color, telling you that this front was a fake that he was putting up.
“Sorry, how can I assist you?”
Letting out a small laugh, you waited for him to speak again. Silence followed, his eyes drawn on candles you had behind the counter. The candles varied it color, each one was a pastel version of their color. They were inside of a small glass jewelry box with gold details.
The lady who had brought those in had been pain, a recently passed away daughter who’s birthday was coming up. The glass box was supposed to be a the present, the candles were for the cake that her husband was on the way to pick up. A car crash had taken both of their lives, leaving her a window and childless.
“Something catch your eye?”
You asked him, having to repeat yourself when he heard you. His cheeks flushed a soft pink, a sheepish smile on his face while he nodded at your question. Smiling at him, you took the box off the wall and put it on the counter, the candles rolling around as you did so.
“How much is it?’’
You could see the worry in his face as he hoped that he would have enough, it was a worry most teens came in with. They almost always never had enough, since you didn’t take money for your items.
“Actually this is only for trade, sorry about that.”
He rummaged through his pockets, pulling out receipts and candy wrappers, lots of candy wrappers. His blush grew as he removed the garbage from his pockets, but you noticed something interesting to say the least. The wrappers were all the same, each one had covered a Snickers bar, which was strange. Of course it could just be his favorite candy bar, but you didn’t think that that was the entire reason for his obsession.
“Tell you what, give me those wrappers and you can have it.”
The boy grinned, his smile taking half of his face up in it’s expression of happiness. There was something in the back of his head, that wanted to refuse, but you could see him fighting the voice in the back of his head.
As if he was holding himself, he threw the wrappers over to you, his fingers twitching as he stared harshly at the crumpled up wrappers on the counter. Taking the wrappers in your hand, you ignored the chocolate residue that ended up on your hand.
Memories flashed through your head, instead of just one exact moment, they were many repeated moments. In front of a carnival, inside of a house, all different locations. Usually memories passed emotions, words, and any other important thing that might have to do with the memory.
This one was almost completely silent, almost being the most important word in that sentence. The memory jumped often, mostly focused on the boy you made a trade with. He was always by himself, staring or being handed a Snickers bar. The emotion that could be felt were sadness, frustration, and loneliness.
“Be a good boy while I’m gone, Hoseok.”
Those were the only words that you could hear, they were repeated in each locations, always a female’s voice, probably someone that he had trusted at one point. The light in his eyes always grew dim after each memory you saw, instead of innocence and curiosity, you saw distrust and fear.
It wasn’t completely unlikely that he had been abused, but it was unlikely that it was physical. Most likely the abuse was emotional, he was afraid of leaving things behind, of parting wit anything. What likely began as separation anxiety grew until it became abandonment issues, where he couldn’t part with anything he was given.
“Here you go, treat it well.”
Passing over the glass box, you watched as he smiled at it, his eyes shimmered with joy before he thanked you. Thanking him for stopping by, you ushered him to leave the shop. Amused by how many times he thanked you before actually leaving, you leaned against the counter, feeling the soft breeze that came from the opened door.
It had been so long since you had ventured out of the shop, how many of your surroundings had changed? Was anything the same way it had been since the first time you had found this empty store, or had it all begun to change, as life always made it do.
You wouldn’t know.
Trades slowed down when winter came, usually the store was filled with tourists or people buying keychains and stones. There was no privacy for trades, nobody was caught up by the smell that the store produced.
There was always quite or very loud during winter, sometimes no one would stop by, other times everyone would come to the shop. This was one of the quiet times where you could hear the curtains humming softly to an old song. It wasn’t unusual for the shop to mimic your own emotions, right now the both of you were content.
It was almost time to close up, to tell the store that you had finished another day. The little bell you had put on top of the door let you know that someone had opened it, you had gotten it after Hoseok, just in case someone sneaked up again.
A boy entered the shop, letting a gust of cold air in that made you shivered before welcoming him into the store. He was dressed for the weather, wearing a black coat and black scarf, almost everything was black except for his pale brown boots.
“Welcome! How may I help you?”
The boy froze where he stood, halfway through the doorway. There was a second where you were sure that he was going to turn around and run away. The glint in his dark brown eyes changed once he noticed you staring at him. He stood his ground, although a little shakily. He fumbled with his fingers as he approached the counter, the door swinging shut as he shuffled forward.
He was probably the same age as Hoseok, but his aura held wisdom unlike the previous teenager. There was a lilac aura that circled around him, it felt unsure, negative. He was in a dark time of his life, teenage years could be brutal, or so you were told.
He stood in front of the counter, his eyes drawn on his shoes, still fumbling with his fingers. If he was to look up at you, you were sure that you’d be able to read his lips, he rehearsed what he was going to say.. Once he was satisfied, he looked up at you, lilac filled the air as he mumbled.
“I heard you can trade items here?”
If you hadn’t seen how hard he had rehearsed that one sentence you would have laughed, but in this circumstance, it would be rude. Instead you smiled and nodded, taking your own time to respond, hoping that the store would welcome him.
“Yes, you may. There are also items for sale as well, trades must be of equivalent value though.”
He nodded, looking at the floor once more as he thought of what he would say next. Staring at him might make him grow more nervous so instead you continued to clean up, making sure everything was in the correct display.
“Can I trade this?”
He held a broken shard of something in his palm, you stepped closer to him to look at the item, his fingers were bandaged. This lead you to assume that he had cut his hand on this shard. Taking the shard in your own hand, you saw your own reflection in the mirror shard. Pausing for a second to see if something flashed, a memory, a smell, anything. But there was nothing.
“Let me check in the back.”
You spoke softly to him, noticing his glance was on the floor again. He nodded, biting his lip as you walked into the back room. The shop was quiet as if not to startle him, the floorboards that usually whined under your weight kept quiet. Once you were near the treasures you had traded for, you froze, unsure of what to give him. There hadn’t been a memory with the shard but it felt heavy in your palm for such a small thing.
Reaching out into one of the draws, you grabbed the first thing you felt. Pulling it out, you saw a simple black hair tie. It had been one of your earliest trades, from when you had actually aged. Putting the shard in its place, you carried the hair tie out to the black haired boy. He still stood there with his aura swirling uncertainly around, filling every nook and cranny.
“Here.”
You place the hair tie on his palm, the same hand where the shard had been shown. He looked at it in confusion at first, before closing his hand into a fist. For the first time, he looked up at you, his brown eyes meeting yours. Two dimples appeared as he smiled softly, thanking you for the trade. His steps were quick to leave the store.
“What is your name?”
You asked right before he shut the door behind him, his hand still on the gold doorknob. He paused for a second, his eyes growing wide before he answered. The dimples appeared one last time as he answered, shutting the door behind him.
“Kim Namjoon.”
The shelves shook with laughter when they saw your annoyed face, pleased that they were able to see such a sight. The displays shushed them as you rolled your eyes, only making the shelves shake harder. Hurrying up, you finished cleaning up. turning over the open sign, you asked the light to turn in for the night. They wished you a goodnight before flickering off.
Heading into the backroom for the second time that hour, you shut the door, ready to go to bed. The shop quieted down as you settled down for bed. Climbing the few stairs that led you to the small room where you kept your bed, you entered after pausing for a second. There wasn’t much to the room, it was rather plain. Laying down in the soft bed, you felt your bones sigh in relief as you got comfortable.
Tossing and turning under the covers made you certain that this was going to be a long night, unable to fall asleep. Instead you stared up at the ceiling, thinking of potions that would help you fall asleep. When you closed your eyes all you could see was the reflection of yourself, you would stare into your own eyes, your face showed anger. Distrust clear in your eyes, your body language was trying to avoid something, your fists were clenched.
Sighing, you got out of bed. Placing both feet on the wooden floor, you walked out of your room. The floorboards moaned in annoyance as you walked, with both of you being loud, the walls woke up as well. They asked where you were going, if you needed to use the bathroom. You shook your head, a small frown appearing on your face as you got into the backroom.
The shard felt cold in your hand, unlike the original warmth it had when it was given to you. Staring at your own reflection, you watched as the person staring at you morphed into Namjoon. Instead of the teenager you had seen, it was a more rebellious teen. Spray painting walls, smoking cigarettes, running away from cops.
This was a first, it wasn’t a memory. The shard had shown you the future, what would become of the teenager who thought carefully over each one of his words, that he would live a hard life.
Not for the first or last time, you mourned the loss of innocence.
It had been two years since Namjoon had left your store, seven since Taehyung had walked out. You were still the same age, still the equivalent of a sixteen year old. Seasons changed and you got to admire the first snow fall and the leaves changing colors each year. The cherry blossom tree next to your shop bloomed nicely every year, dropping it’s petals on people.
It was only four in the afternoon, but no one had stopped by today so you were sitting in a chair, drinking a cup of tea. How strange it might seem to someone who walked in for the first time, seeing a teenager sitting down and drinking tea. There were always people asking questions about you running the shop, since you were so young. What they didn’t know is that the magic shop had been around for years, that if you had aged you might be in your eighties.
Time was an old friend of yours, sometimes they slipped out from under your fingers. If you didn’t pay attention to the seasons changing, sometimes you forgot that time still flowed. That everyone else had a limited time on the earth, that when the people you traded with passes away, you’d trade with their grandchildren. This was the price of your own trade, perhaps the first time that you understood just how important the trades were.
The curtains were humming to a song that reminded you of a song you danced to in childhood, nostalgia always made memories seem happier than they actually were but for just that moment in time, you would enjoy your own peek into the past.
The bell rung, interrupting the curtains humming. The boy peeked his head in through the crack of the door, smiling widely as he saw you. He stepped inside, holding a art canvas in his right hand, shutting the door with his left. The smile on his face remained there as he walked up to the chair you were sitting in, still holding your cup of tea.
“Is this the magic shop?”
He spoke, his voice soft. His brown eyes looked directly at you instead of the little knickknacks that you had around the store. He was tense, although he tried to masquerade as calm and happy. His mask seemed like he had worn it for a long time, most of his life you might say.
“It is. How can I help you?”
The shop shook in annoyance, not liking his personality, or lack thereof. The store preferred people who were true to themselves, who knew what they were, even if they were complete and utter asses.
“Taehyung said I could trade something here, so I brought this painting that I did earlier this year. Is that alright?”
His soft voice held many emotions in it, yet you couldn’t pinpoint which ones he might be feeling in this moment. Staring at him for a second, you tried to see his aura, but nothing peeked through. Barely smiling, you nodded.
Taking the canvas in your hands, you looked over the painting. It was a glass lamp with metal edges, the glass was slightly stained so it looked foggy, inside the lamp was a amaryllis. A flower that symbolizes determination, beauty, and love. On the edge of the painting a signature was neatly written, it read Jimin.
“Give a moment please.”
Taking the canvas to the back, you looked around for something to trade but nothing stuck out. Some memories seemed to little for this trade, others were too big. Paintings were always difficult because the artist always put a piece of his soul into his art, add some feelings into that and you have a difficult trade on your hands.
Whispering to the shop, seeing if it had a clue for what to trade. Sometimes it knew the trades better than you did, which made sense as it was a part of your soul, it could see the feelings of others through the items.
The store grew cold, making you shiver. It was usually warm year around, but when the shop held negative emotion it grew cold, the magic grew weaker than it usually did. Instead of an object that you had acquired over the years, sometimes if there was nothing the store would make an equivalent object to the one that they were trying to trade.
On the table in front of you appeared a water color set and a sketchbook, two objects weren’t usually an equal trade but the shop had created the objects, meaning that it had to be equal. You weren’t going to question the shop’s abilities so you thanked the store, smiling as it grew to its normal temperature.
Carrying the water color and the sketchbook, you brought it back to the front of the shop where Jimin was standing. Holding it out to him, you smiled softly. The trade was normal up to this point, you had thought he would take the trade and leave. That’s how it worked, that’s what usually happened, that’s what was normal.
This is when you figured out that Jimin wasn’t normal.
Instead of accepting the items, Jimin grew angry. His eyebrows furrowed and his jaw tightened. His brown eyes no longer held so many emotions that it seemed like he was drowning in them, instead anger was clear in his eyes.
“What is this? He said it was equal! This isn’t equal, you’re giving me garbage! What am I going to do with this? This is all such bullshit.”
You wanted to laugh at the sight of him being mad but that might make him even more upset, so you kept quiet, letting his anger fizzle out. When he had finished speaking, you smiled once more and pushed the supplies into his hands. Turning away from him, you sat back in your chair, grabbing you cup of tea that had cooled down.
“Paint a new you. This isn’t the you that’s needed right now. One that you don’t have to pretend to be someone you aren’t, one where you are suffocated by you emotions perhaps?”
His face grew into a red color, his jaw still tightened and you could hear him deep breathing. Jimin smiled tightly, his eye twitching as he thanked you his voice cracking as he did so. Then he turned around and left, about to leave when you called his name.
“Hey Jimin, thank Taehyung for me please.”
He nodded, his eyes still holding anger in them but as you spoke of Taehyung’s name, his eyes grew fond. They had a close bond and you were thankful of that, you hoped they would stay together. They would help make the other change, for better or for worse you weren’t sure.
He left the shop, a gust of wind blew, keeping the door opened. The petals swirled around the front of the store, as if they were inviting you to leave. Seasons could be just as cruel as time, even worse you might say.
Six months passed, the seasons changed and time continued to flow. As holidays approached, you decorated, always excited to get some more people to stop by. Holidays put most people in a cheery mood, although it did have the opposite affect on some people.
October, the month where it was acceptable to let your magic loose. It was always fun when kids came to the shop for trick or treating, not many trades happen but it gets your head away from all the memories inside of the store.
Perhaps trades that did occur became more memorable during times like these, or maybe it was just the people. The shop seemed more enthusiastic as well, of course they enjoyed having more visitors than normal. It might be a shop but it did have emotions after all.
The trees leaves changed form their green to a autumn red, you changed your tea for hot cocoa and pumpkin based sweets. The days passed slowly, until it was finally the day. You had bowls full of treats, a few bags of small toys just in case a child with allergies came in.
Ghosts, witches, superheros and many more costumed children stopped by for candy. Each one cute, all had happy little grins on their face, some already having candy stains on their faces. As hours passed and it grew later, younger kids became less frequent visitors and teens and young adults started to come by.
Their costumes were a little more unique to say the least, still some devils and angels popped in for a treat, but so did at least seven Alice in wonderlands. You only needed two more odd costumes to make a bingo. A fun game that you played to pass the time, also fun to write down the costumes that amused you the most.
One clown and three elves later, a boy wearing a white bed sheet walked in, almost tripping on the fabric that was gathered around his feet. You stifled your laughter, covering your mouth with your hand. The most amusing costumes were always the least effort put into them. Both of you knew the costume was bad, that’s what made it so amazing.
“You the trade place?”
The ghost spoke, the small slit for eyes let you see his dark brown orbs peeking through. There wasn’t a mouth hole, which made you want to laugh even more. How did he decide to go trick or treating with such little planning? It’s not like it snuck up on him, it’s the same day every year.
“That’s us!”
You were in a good mood, you weren’t usually so happy to assist people during this late at night but this guy had a personality that made you want to snicker and just be a excited mess. Your own costume was as bad as his, a pointy hat sat on top of your head, you had some sand in a clear bucket next to you and some on the floor.
Very few people had figured out what you were and the response had been either to groan or laugh at the bad joke. What can you say, you’re a fan of jokes.
“We can trade anything?”
You nodded at his question, a smile on your face as the ghost waddled closer. Eventually he sighed and just ripped off the whole sheet, now in front of you stood a male wearing a white sweater and jeans, not very spooky.
He dug in his pocket, taking whatever his hand landed on and dumping it out on the counter. A gray lighter and some loose cigarettes ended up next to a few receipts. Taking those into your hand, you watched a memory flash through.
The male that had stood in front of you was now sitting in front of a gas station, throwing small rocks into the street. He was chewing on his lip, his eyebrows furrowed as he sat there. A purple haired boy sat next to him, hitting their shoulders together, both of them smiling. That’s when you noticed that you knew the purple haired male who had dimples and chocolate brown eyes.
It was Namjoon. Namjoon held out a cigarette, laughing as the black haired male groaned and pulled out his gray lighter. This memory wasn’t exactly much of a memory, it seemed like such a mundane thing yet the emotion was content, they were happy.
Shaking yourself out of the memory, you saw the black haired male raising an eyebrow at you in a questioning manner. Smiling at him, you motioned him to wait for a second.
Going into the backroom, your eyes quickly shifted over all the items. What was a good trade? A pillow? A small statue of a cross eyed rabbit? Your eyes landed on the perfect item to trade for the lighter and cigarettes. Grabbing a blue bandanna, you walked back to the front. The male stood there, scrolling on his phone as he waited.
“Here you go.”
The soft cloth left you hand as you passed it over to him, the bandanna wasn’t much and the story wasn’t either. It was a pleasant memory though, it would be a fair trade for him.
“That’s it? I thought it was magic.”
A smirk came on his face, a mean chuckle came out of his mouth. You knew it wasn’t directed towards you but you wanted to wipe that smirk off of his face, so you laughed and went back by your sandy stool.
“It’s whatever you think it is, Yoongi. Say hi to Namjoon for me please.”
The smirk was on your face now as his mouth was open, his eyes held surprise in them and then they turned into amusement. His mouth turned back into it’s smirk, a twinkle in his eyes as he nodded and said his goodbye, blue bandanna clenched in his hand.
Laughing quietly, you wrote down his costume on your paper of memorable costume and people. This was a encounter you wouldn’t forget for awhile, the boy who dressed up as a ghost and doubted the shop.
The shop shook in laughter once he left, amused by his doubts. It was always funny when people thought the shop was normal. It was anything but that.
Another year went by, the leaves fell down and the plants died as it grew cold. The first snow fall came and went, Christmas had just passed, leaving the shop quiet as everyone had less money than normal.
The sun had been down for a little while, but it was only four in the afternoon. Only a old man had stopped by, trading a chess board for a small fountain. Otherwise it had been quiet, the floorboards hadn’t complained all day. Which was strange since they were always noisy, but you blamed it on the cold weather.
You couldn’t wait for spring, it was always your favorite. With the petals blossoming and the beginnings of love, spring was the perfect time to restart. The trees and plants could blossom along with love.
But for spring to come, winter needed to end. Winter was cold, it made you heart long for hot cocoa and warm blankets. It was lonely. Winter meant time to yourself where even the shop felt a little too quiet. Winter was remembering the price of your trade. Winter was old regrets and new hope.
The bell on top of the door rang as it was opened, making you look up from table you had been wiping down. There was a brunette standing inside of the store now, a smile on his face as he greeted you. His voice was soft and cheerful but there was something off, it felt fake, like it was all pretend.
He looked around the store, his fingers lingered on a pink stone that had the word love engraved on it. A quiet sigh escaped his lips, his eyes staring at the floor as he let go of the stone. His aura was strange, among the younger males that visited, they usually had vibrant aura colors. Whether it be a gold like Taehyung’s or a mint like Yoongi’s, they all were vibrant in their own way. Yet this man’s aura was a pale white, almost translucent.
“Are you looking for anything in particular?”
You were standing behind the counter, a pale pink scarf wrapped around your neck, giving you some comfort from the harsh cold. The male startled as heard your voice, his eyes grew wide before returning to their normal size, his hand flew to his chest as he laughed. His laughter was unique, you didn’t know how to describe it, but somehow it made him more attractive.
“Someone told me that you could make trades here, that the items are always what you need?”
His face showed hesitance, his eyes sparkling with anxiety, you bet that he probably heard the stories passed on from the earlier generations. It wasn’t unusual that the stories got a little twisted, it was a game of telephone and sometimes the storyteller forgot details and made up their own.
“Something along those lines. What do you want?”
There was something strange about this guy, making you ask bluntly what he came here for. Even if he just stumbled upon the store, he knew what he was looking for. They always did, sometimes they just hadn’t realized it yet.
“Answers?”
He shrugged, his brown hair shifting as he did so. His smile disappeared as he thought, his head in the clouds. Coughing, you got his attention. Your eyes trailed over his appearance, seeing if there was anything that would be an equal trade for the item you had in mind.
“Your earrings. Will you trade those?”
His earrings were silver, they had a small chain that dangled. They caught your attention for the way bounced off the mirror on the shelf. Nobody had known that the mirror was actually enchanted to see things that people valued. It was helpful in circumstances like these.
The brunette’s hand flew to his left ear, his fingers making the chain sway. He paused, his eyes shifting as he thought. You could see he became uncertain, his eyes now glanced at the floor.
“I’ll do it.”
His eyes were now trained on you, confidence could be clearly seen in them. Smiling at him, you nodded. He slowly took them out of his ear, placing them on your palm. Telling him to give you a minute you wandered into the back, the earrings were beginning to flash a memory but instead of just feeling it, you were in it.
You were sat in a chair, six boys surrounded you as they sung happy birthday. The boy sat directly in front of you had black hair, his nose scrunched up as he sang, his front teeth on display.
Looking to your left, you saw a familiar boy sat next to you. Namjoon, his hair was now a pink, a lollipop was grasped tightly between his fingers as he laughed as something. Next to him sat Hoseok, his hair a dark brown and wearing a green jacket with black sleeves, you could see a wrapper sticking pout of the pocket.
Looking to your right, you saw Jimin, only now realizing that his hand was over your shoulders. He had swatches of orange paint on his skin that matched his hair, but what made you concerned was the plastic bracelet on his wrist and the empty look inside of his eyes. Sat next to Jimin was Taehyung, he was no longer the same boy that you had met all those years ago. Instead his hair was brown, with tips of his hair being a green. That gold aura you had seen twinkled angrily, frustrated at something besides this moment.
Near the door, you saw Yoongi, same as when you saw him in October. His hair mint, a smirk on his face as he watched the boys mess around with the cake. The boy who sat in front of you waved for him to come sit next to him, only for Yoongi to shake his head softly, a smile on his face.
Hoseok had frosting on his finger and in a second it was on Taehyung’s nose, making everyone cackle at Taehyung’s face. Soon everyone was throwing the cake and playing instead of eating it.
“Happy birthday Seokjin.”
Namjoon said passing you a small pink box, his eyes trained on you. For the first time you realized that you weren’t yourself. You fingers were long unlike your normal self, they were crooked, just like you had seen while he touched the stone.
You knew whose memory this belonged to.
Opening up the box, you saw the pair of earrings, sparkling just as they did in the shop. Touching them carefully, everything disappeared. There were no more boys in front of you, instead the backroom stared back at you. The cabinets danced in curiosity, asking for you to explain what you had seen. But you couldn’t.
A tear fell from your eye, more followed as you fell to the floor. You were seeing these kids tear themselves apart, all of them pretending to be alright. There was nothing you could do to help them, no way to fix it. You were helpless.
Wiping your eyes on your sleeve, you slowly stood up. Reminding yourself that you needed to complete the trade, you looked around the backroom. You knew what you were looking for. The canvas that Jimin had traded in had changed as most items did, the glass lamp that had been painted was now an object of it’s own. The amaryllis sat beautifully inside of the lamp, the glass as fogged up as before. The metal edges were warm to the touch, holding their own aesthetic, not being overlooked by any means.
Carrying the lamp out of the backroom, you placed it gently on the counter. Avoiding Seokjin’s eyes, you thank him for stopping by. You could hear him question what the lamp was supposed to do for him, how would it help him?
Finally looking up at him, you met his eyes. His eyes looked scared, there was so much confusion, so many things that you wish you could protect him from. But you couldn’t, instead tears flooded down you face as you spoke to him.
“Amaryllis. A flower that symbolizes determination, beauty, and love. Protect what you love, don’t let yourself get broken in the process or else there will be nothing left.”
You cried, your vision getting blurry as you sobbed. All you could make out was Seokjin taking the lamp and leaving, the door shutting firmly behind him. You grabbed the edge of the counter, trying not to fall. You felt like you were being choked, the air left your lungs and you couldn’t breathe. It was so quiet, your own cries grew silent, leaving just a small sound of a clock ticking.
Time was always moving forward, something that you wish you could control.
The winter ended, the temperature grew warm and the plants came back to life. There had been things that had changed, the shop had become lively once again, the curtains would hum, the floorboards would complain. But you felt lonely, you had no connections to this place, the only thing that tied you to the shop was a trade that you made years ago.
People came and never returned, you lived by reading books and pretending you were in their worlds. You ignored the shop, you no longer sold keychains and stones, instead you waited for trades. They became rarer which left you with more time, so you read even more books. You made even more potions, you began to write.
You did everything you could to stop yourself from collapsing under the weight you had created. Maybe the years had finally caught up to you, you had physically stopped aging, but mentally it was killing you.
Some days you hadn’t bothered to get out of bed, instead staring up at the ceiling, listening to the chair whisper the the bookshelf. You laughed at nothing and when you got tired of that you went to sleep.
Everyday was the same, so repetitive, always on schedule.
Until the door was thrown open by a familiar face, one that you had seen in your dreams often. The boy who sat in front of Seokjin, the one with the scrunched up nose, the only one who had a chance in the harsh world.
Staring at him, you waited for him to explain why he had come, he was the one with answers. Since he was here, you knew what had happened already. The boys had changed just as you had, this was where you would be forced to learn about what truly happened to them.
“You did this. You can change it back, right?”
The door closed gently behind him, the counter let out a sob, the bell smiled sadly. You shook your head, your own eyes on the floor. This was a first, but none of the situation had become normal anymore, you weren’t sure what your normal was.
“They did this, I gave them the tools to stop it. I can’t change what’s happened, trades are final.”
As you spoke both of you seemed more broken then before, both of you now looking at the ground. There were so many ideas swirling through your head, so many ways that you could try to change the outcome but what was the point?
“This wasn’t what we needed, we were supposed to stay together. You took that from us, how is that fair? Take what you want from me, just give them back.”
You looked up from the ground, your eyes meeting his. His brown eyes stared into your own, reminding you of Taehyung. Both of their eyes held an innocence, both trying to protect what they cared for. This is why you were okay with staying with the shop, this is why you lasted here so long.
Why had you forgotten what you had cared for? This shop was you, you were magic. You could fix this, you just needed someone to trade. You’d play by the rules, with your own little twist of course.
Smiling for the first time in what felt like decades, you began to laugh. Grabbing his hand, you ran upstairs, pass you room to the back where you kept the items you were tied to.
Not many items resided on the shelf, only seven and with the item Jeongguk would give you it would be eight. Turning to him you showed what was on your shelf, the red handkerchief, snicker wrappers, and a mirror shard. There was a space between the shard and the canvas, perfect for what you needed from Jeongguk.
“You’d trade anything?”
You asked him as he looked over the items, the pieces of themselves that his friends had traded. He nodded without hesitance, his eyes filled with determination. This was your one chance, the only time you’d be able to fix this.
“Jeon Jeongguk, give me your memories and I will trade you of something equal them.”
A small empty glass jar had appeared in your hand, the lid was a small cork. Removing the lid, you waited for the black haired male to think over the decision, it was a big risk. The only way he could get his friends back.
“I’ll do it.”
Three words, you had a agreement on your hands. Smiling at Jeongguk, you sat him down in a chair. Grabbing a towel for him to hold, you paused for a second. Grabbing the silver lighter that Yoongi had traded, you handed it to Jeongguk.
“Put it in your pocket.”
He stared at you before doing it, the small lighter now a part of the agreement. Passing him the towel, you sat in front of him, the glass jar on the floor between the two of you.
“This will hurt like nothing you’ve ever felt before. Think of a memory with all of you, I’ll work from there.”
There was fear in his eyes, a single tear escaped his eye before he nodded.
“Thank you.”
Jeongguk smiled one more time, his aura filling up the room. It was a light blue, that reminded you of the sky. Blue flashes, gold sparkles, white spots. Everything that made up memories flew into the jar, screams came from Jeongguk as he writhed in his seat.
A fight with Yoongi, finding Jimin underwater in a bathtub, unable to contact Taehyung. One by one all of the times that he was left behind filled the glass until there was nothing left. Every second he spent with them had left his mind, he wasn’t the same anymore. He sat on the chair, passed out. The only way you were able to tell he was breathing was the slight movement of his lungs.
Closing up the jar, you shook it around, the colors all mixing together but still you knew which color was for which boy. It was up to them to fix themselves, you had given them a second chance. This time would be different.
Placing the jar on the shelf next to the mirror shard and the canvas, you watched as the gold shimmer fell to the bottom of the glass, the light blue rising to the top.
For the first time since the beginning, you touched the first item you had put on the shelf. A paintbrush. What you had traded your freedom for, how you had saved your own friends years ago. Smiling gently at the brush, you grasped it in your hand.
The weight was familiar, it fit perfectly just as it had when you had first used it. Painting a circle around the chair Jeongguk was sat on, you watched as the chair sunk through the floor, disappearing to somewhere so he would wake up in a hospital. Just like you had.
Letting out a sigh of relief, you walked out of the room, taking one more glance at the shelf full of items. One next to each other sat the boys you had met. Taehyung with a black eye and his innocence, Hoseok with wrappers in his pocket, Namjoon holding a mirror shard and drops of blood on it. Jeongguk in the middle of it, a smile on his face, surrounded by his friends. Jimin holding a empty canvas, Yoongi holding a cigarette, lastly Seokjin wearing his earrings. The boys you had met would still exist, but this time they would do things differently.
Things had changed, you weren’t sure to what point but you could feel it in the air. You saw Namjoon and Yoongi walking pass the door often, sometimes Seokjin was with them. Instead of the fake smiles and protective eyes you saw genuine smiles and heard playful teasing. Jimin and Taehyung ran past the shop daily, it being on the way to their school. Taehyung’s face was clear of bruises, his aura spakled in the sunshine. Jimin no longer seemed like he was drowning in all of his emotions. Hoseok could be seen every now and then, he carried a dance bag on his arm and talked loudly to a girl who wore the same dance jacket he did.
Jeongguk was the only one you were unsure of, whether he made it out of the hospital or what he made of himself. You kept the shop running, you made it into a small art shop. Your paintbrush now in your pocket at all times, you were finally alright with everything that had happened. You had made mistakes and you had to pay for those.
One morning after you had seen Taehyung and Jimin run to school and you were putting away some spare paints, the small bell above the door rang. Happiness flooded you chest as you saw his face, a smile on your face grew as you welcomed the boy.
“I saw that you were looking for a part timer, is the spot still open?”
Wiping your hands on your apron, you welcomed him inside. Big brown eyes stared into yours, curiosity filled them as you had him sit down. There you begun to speak about what the job entailed, he nodded as you spoke.
Telling him he could have the job if he wanted, that you’d be glad to have him. A smile where his front teeth were on full display, he thanked you, his eyes twinkling as he looked around the store.
“What’s your name?”
You asked even though you already knew, just wanting to hear him say it. Just to know that you had were right, you had fixed it. You helped someone, nobody could take that away.
“Jeon Jeongguk.”
The sequel may have ended there, but you were sure that there would be more chapter. After all how long could an art student resist going into a art shop, how long could two music students resist walking into the shop that they hear someone singing inside. Perhaps you were more woven into these boys stories then you had originally thought, but you were okay with that.
Especially since you finally had time on your side, and more importantly friends.
Even if you had to explain why you knew their names small details of their lives, what would push along a story more than drama?
There was always the person that might ask why the store smelled like that, or why there were rumors of a magic shop that would trade you things. Old habits died hard, that was still a thing you liked to do. Besides how else were you going to explain singing curtains and shelves that howled in laughter when the threw paintbrushes.
Magic was still magic in the end, even if Yoongi didn’t completely believe you.