Yoongi never believed in fate. But when he bumped shoulders with a stranger on the street and felt a jolt of warmth straight to his ribs, he stopped in his tracks.

The man turned, blinking at him. Taehyung.

"Did you feel that too?" Taehyung asked, lifting the hem of his oversized sweater just enough to reveal the glowing pattern on his side.

Yoongi’s breath caught in his throat.

"Same mark," he said.

By that night, four more had shown up.

Jin had been delivering fresh bread when Hoseok nearly dropped a crate of flowers at the door. Their marks pulsed the moment their hands brushed.

Namjoon met Jimin at the town library. Both reached for the same book, and the moment their fingers touched, the glow flared so bright it peeked through their shirts.

Jungkook had just arrived in town with nothing but a backpack and his dog. He saw a flyer for a community dinner and felt something tug inside his chest. He went.

That night, they all sat at the same table. Strangers. Eight men drawn by something they couldn’t explain. The air was heavy with tension, curiosity, something ancient.

Namjoon broke the silence first. "We all have it, don’t we?"

They nodded slowly, each one lifting their shirt just enough to show the identical mark—curved lines, like a constellation, glowing faintly on their skin.

"I thought I was alone," Jungkook whispered.

"You weren’t," said Jimin, voice trembling.

Seokjin glanced at the rest, his usual bravado softened. "What are we supposed to do now?"

Taehyung smiled like he already knew. "We figure it out. Together."

Yoongi leaned back in his chair, looking at them one by one. "Then let’s start with names. And maybe breakfast tomorrow."

Hoseok chuckled, relaxed for the first time in days. "If we’re soulmates, might as well see if we can survive a group grocery trip."

They all laughed—but deep down, they felt it. The spark. Not just love. Not just fate. A bond that defied logic. A new beginning.