Chapter Text
The problem starts before Namjoon even knows it’s a problem.
It starts as confusion, really. He’s at the studio with Hoseok, trying to grind out time in their schedules for another dance practice before their Seoul concerts, and it’s proving surprisingly frustrating between Yoongi’s impending rut—insisted upon by their personal doctor after a full year’s delay—Taehyung’s photoshoots, and Namjoon’s own commitments to a friend that has too much middle school blackmail on him for Namjoon to flake out on his wedding day. The others aren’t even in Seoul; Jimin and Jungkook are on family trips to Jeju, and won’t be back for the whole week.
“We should have all of Friday free if hyung’s rut ends a little early,” Hoseok says finally. He’s still scowling at the screen. “And I can do some practice sessions before that—brush off the cobwebs. Taehyung and Jin-hyung on Wednesday? I’ll tell Jimin and Jungkook to work on the Run choreo in the meantime. Send some videos so we can monitor.”
“Add me to that Wednesday session,” says Namjoon. “I’ll move some shit around. I’m not getting the choreo on track without your help.”
“You’ve done it all before,” Hoseok points out. “It’s just restarting the muscle memory for most of it. And I know Run is hard, but we’ll be fine, Namjoon-ah. It’s crappy timing, that’s all.”
Namjoon smiles at him wearily and Hoseok goes back to stabbing at the tablet. There are a few minutes of blissful silence, then Hoseok swears so loud and filthy that Namjoon startles and spills cold coffee all over the computer.
The whole set-up sparks alarmingly, and both of them throw themselves backwards, against the far wall. This isn’t Namjoon’s first rodeo, though, and the rest of the pack knows it: they’ve all had to take the fire safety classes after Namjoon scorched an old studio so badly they had to relocate half the floor because of the melted electrical wiring. Hoseok reaches for the fire extinguisher tucked under the sofa, but doesn’t pull it out when the laptop does nothing more than make a weird chirruping sound and die.
“At least I saved my work last night?” offers Namjoon weakly.
Hoseok grimaces back. “Sorry. This damn calendar is fucking with me. Jin-hyung’s busy, apparently.”
“On Wednesday? Did he delay his return?”
“You’re the pack alpha. I don’t get those details.”
Namjoon sighs and pulls out his phone. It is, if nothing else, useful, particularly when juggling seven busy men and all their hobbies, obligations, and duties, to be pack alpha. Almost everything online automatically connects to Namjoon’s account with the details of the rest of the pack: travel information, bank accounts, medical details. It’s required by law; a government petition is required to change that, and in their pack only Seokjin took advantage of that before they debuted.
But Seokjin still usually lets them know of his plans, and he’s always been conscientious of Namjoon’s position as a young pack alpha. So the silence on both messaging and traveling apps is… weird.
“I’m calling him,” he tells Hoseok, and dials Seokjin.
It takes an oddly long time for Seokjin to pick up. Before he does, Hoseok shoves his tablet under Namjoon’s nose, brow scrunching up.
There’s a new meeting on the calendar on Wednesday morning, right in the middle of when Hoseok wanted to do their practice session, in bright orange. There’s no details under the banner, but the participants are clearly labeled.
Kim Seokjin, Kim Namjoon, and Bang Sihyuk.
That’s when Seokjin picks up. “Hello? Namjoon-ah?”
“Hyung,” greets Namjoon. “How are you? Everything okay with your family?”
In fact, now that he thinks about it, it’s weird that Seokjin’s even gone to be with his family like this. He stays in Seoul the most of any of them. When he returns from holidays or weekends spent in Anyang, he looks more tired, not more refreshed. There’s a tension there, between Seokjin and the rest of his family, that Namjoon’s never been able to understand, never fully been privy to, and Seokjin’s never looked like he wanted to explain either.
“They’re fine,” says Seokjin, voice a little crackly over the phone. He doesn’t sound tired, exactly, but there’s an odd weight to it that reminds Namjoon of when Seokjin cries, when he’s overwhelmed. “Was there something you needed? Hyung’s a little busy.”
“You’re on vacation,” says Hoseok, into Namjoon’s ear. “What are you busy for!”
“Ai, Hobi’s also there?” Seokjin laughs a little, lightening back up. “I’m running a bath, you little weasels. Don’t worry. I’ll be back on Wednesday morning.”
“Oh. I thought your plans might have changed, hyung.” Namjoon frowns down at the tablet. “Hobi wants a practice session as soon as possible for the Run choreo, and we thought Wednesday would be good to get started. Have some stuff taken care of before Yoongi-hyung comes back.”
“Hm. I see. Does Wednesday afternoon work? I’m not sure if you saw, but there’s a meeting in the morning.”
“I just saw it. You, me, and Bang PD-nim. Do you know what that’s about?”
“I do,” says Seokjin. “It’s nothing to do with the album, though. I just wanted to talk to him. I asked his secretary to put you down as optional, too—I swear, that boy’s as incompetent as a toad! Can’t do the simplest things!”
Seokjin’s had a rivalry with Bang Sihyuk’s secretary for years, ever since his last secretary retired. Something to do with missing invites and deliberate mix-ups, but Namjoon doesn’t care to hear his rant on the topic now, again.
He has to get a new laptop set up and attached to all his stuff. It’s going to take him at least an hour to download all the necessary software. And then another day to make up for all the work he’s lost.
He says bye to Seokjin in a blur and heads out to grab a new laptop from their stock. When he returns, Hoseok is still in the studio. He’s not frowning, but he looks thoughtful.
“Jin-hyung doesn’t like to meet with Bang PD-nim,” he says. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him actually ask for a meeting himself. Strange, isn’t it?”
“He said it’s fine,” says Namjoon absently. “Do you have the list of softwares to download? I know there’s a specific order, too—”
And just like that, Seokjin slips from his mind.