Niko arrived just before dusk, dragging a single bag up the gravel path. The house stood tall at the edge of the woods—windows glowing golden, ivy clinging to old brick. The ad had said: “Big house. Good people. Come if you need to heal.” So they did.

Namjoon opened the door, tall and broad in a soft gray sweater, glasses sliding down his nose. “You made it,” he said, voice calm and deep. “Come inside.”

Seokjin emerged from the kitchen with a spoon in hand, apron over a fitted shirt, dark hair perfectly styled. “If you don’t eat well, we’ll fight,” he joked, handing Niko a bite of soup with a wink.

Yoongi was curled on the couch, hoodie up, earbuds in. Ash-blonde hair peeked out from under the hood. “New one?” he muttered, then simply said, “Welcome.”

Hoseok ran in barefoot, sunlight in his smile, warm skin glowing. Loose linen shirt, arms open wide. “We’ve been waiting for you,” he said, hugging Niko like it was natural.

Jimin offered a blanket with a soft smile. Sandy-gold hair, silver earring, eyes full of kindness. “You look like someone who needs comfort,” he said, settling close without hesitation.

Taehyung leaned in the hallway shadows, long frame wrapped in earth-toned layers, rich chocolate brown hair falling over thoughtful eyes. “You’ve got beautiful eyes,” he said, and Niko felt seen.

Jungkook appeared last—tattoos visible under a white tank top, hair damp, eyes gentle. He took Niko’s bag without asking. “Come on,” he murmured. “You’re home now.”

It wasn’t what Niko expected. It was better. Strange. Soft. Healing. And it felt like the beginning of everything.