The Drowned Cathedral: Saints and Brides

The next hallway was different.

Jungkook had wandered for what felt like hours. The halls here changed when he wasn’t looking. Some stretched longer. Others moved behind him.

But this one was still.

Quiet.

The floor was made of dark stone, polished like glass. The walls were shaped like ribs. Tall bones curved inward from both sides, forming a long tunnel. It felt like he was walking through a spine.

Each step echoed.

There were little lights glowing in the wall—blue and soft.

And under each one, there was a shrine.

The first shrine held a ring.

It was silver. Old. Bent, like someone had worn it too long. It sat on a smooth white stone, surrounded by dried white flowers.

Above it, carved in coral, was a name:

Nyun, who Sang Him Quiet.

Jungkook stared.

He didn’t know that name.

But he felt… something.

Not sadness.

More like the feeling you get when someone says your name and you haven’t told them it.

He moved to the next shrine.

A ribbon.

Tied in a perfect bow. Pale red. Frayed at the edges. A little blood on the tip.

Solae, Third of the Unwept.

More shrines followed.

A necklace. A lock of hair. A veil.

Each one carefully placed.

Each one surrounded by dried roses, pearls, coral, and bone.

Each one with a name.

Jungkook walked slower now.

This was not a hallway.

It was a graveyard.

Not for bodies—but for memories.

He stopped in front of a mirror. It stood taller than him, framed in black shell. The surface shimmered like water, not glass.

He stepped closer.

His reflection was blurry.

Then it wasn’t his at all.

A girl looked back at him.

She had dark eyes. Her lips were cracked. A bruise circled her neck like a collar.

She didn’t blink.

She just stared.

Jungkook’s chest tightened.

He tried to back away—

But the girl blinked. Once.

And was gone.

His own face returned.

Pale. Sweating. Wide-eyed.

“You saw her.”

Jungkook spun around.

Taehyung stood in the shadows, just beyond the light. Not close. Watching.

He always watched.

“Who was she?” Jungkook asked.

“She loved me once,” Taehyung said.

“Did you love her?”

A pause.

“Yes.”

Jungkook’s voice dropped. “What happened to her?”

“She asked to forget,” Taehyung said. “So I let her.”

Jungkook stepped away from the mirror.

He looked back at the shrines. The veil. The hair. The soft, pretty pieces left behind.

“They were all brides?”

“Yes.”

“Did you love them all?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

Taehyung’s eyes didn’t glow this time.

But his answer did.

“Because none of them stayed.”

Jungkook said nothing.

The bond was quiet between them now.

It didn’t pull. It didn’t push.

But it filled the space like a storm before thunder.

He looked back at the mirror one more time.

And whispered—

“Do you think I’ll ask to forget too?”

Taehyung’s answer came slow. Careful. Soft.

“No.”

“Why?”

Taehyung stepped one inch closer.

“Because you’re not afraid of being mine,” he said. “You’re afraid of choosing it.”

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