Bulalakaw

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/30124254.

Rating: Mature
Archive Warning: Major Character Death
Category: M/M
Fandom: | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Relationship: Jeon Jungkook/Park Jimin
Character: Jeon Jungkook, Park Jimin (BTS), Original Characters
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Heavy Angst, Bullying, Minor
Violence, Poor Jeon Jungkook, Rich Park Jimin (BTS), Child Abuse, it's
only a sentence though dw, Suicide
Stats: Published: 2021-03-18 Completed: 2021-04-08 Chapters: 4/4 Words:
16175

Bulalakaw
by cockmin

Summary

Jeongguk is Jimin's lost star, found and fallen.

Notes

i'm back with another piece! hope you like it <3

i'd like to express my gratitude to peachy for being the most supportive person i've ever
met. i know i say it all the time, but you're the best! and also to the most beautiful pixie, av!
thank you for listening to my ideas and putting up with me <3 this is a gift for you two! :)

(also, you may notice that the students call their teacher ~ssaem. this is a casual/informal
way for students to call a teacher. "ssaem" is frequently used by students who are at ease
with their teacher and have a positive relationship with their teacher.)

my twitter ♡
 blue plaid shirt
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Jimin vividly remembers the first time he saw Jeongguk.

It was a Monday morning and he was a little irritated. He didn't get enough sleep last night, just
like every single night thanks to his fucking insomnia. It didn't help that his classmates wouldn't
stop blabbering to each other about things Jimin bet didn't matter. The noise made his head pound,
his heart accelerate, adding to Jimin's already sour mood. Jimin pressed his palms on his temples,
eyes squeezed shut and brows knitted in frustration. He exhaled loudly, opened his eyes and looked
to his left side where he could clearly see the school’s field from where he sat by the window of the
classroom.

Jimin put his hands under his chin and tilted his head up. Contrary to Jimin's mood, the weather
was amazing. The sun was high up in the sky, but didn't shine too harshly and it wasn't too hot
either, but still hot by Jimin's standard. It was enough to make him sweat despite the room having
the air conditioner on. There were lots of clouds with different shapes, Jimin could have sworn he
saw a dog-shaped one.

Much to his surprise, he felt himself calm down, the distraction probably helped with his mood,
although it didn't do much for his headache. He needed to drink an Advil or something. He couldn't
continue his day like this. Before he could stand up from his seat and head to the infirmary to ask
for some medicine, the voice of their homeroom teacher boomed inside the classroom.

"Class, take your seats—Hyeongjun I told you to stop sitting on the armchair! Take your goddamn
seats," Cheon-ssaem said through gritted teeth when his students continued minding their business
as if their teacher wasn't there. It wasn't new though, their teacher had little to no sense of authority.
No one really listened to him. Cheon-ssaem repeated himself one more time and finally, everyone
was back on their seats. "I have someone to introduce you to! Your new classmate, remember?" he
said with fake enthusiasm. All of a sudden, the classroom went quiet and everyone was paying
attention.

Behind Cheon-ssaem was a boy.

"Go on, Jeon, introduce yourself," Cheon-ssaem encouraged, placing his hand on the boy's back to
gently push him forward. The boy resisted and could´ve almost fallen on his face if Cheon-ssaem
hadn’t pulled him by the arm. Everyone laughed, Jimin himself couldn't help but scoff at the boy's
clumsiness. "Hurry up, we still have to proceed with our lesson."

Perhaps, the boy could sense that Cheon-ssaem was losing his non-existent patience so he stepped
forward. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, his shaking fists that were in front of his stomach
were almost white with how hard he was clenching them and he was gnawing on his bottom lip in
a way that made Jimin think he'd be seeing blood in a matter of seconds.

Everybody was waiting for him to speak but he didn't. He was just standing in front with a
slouched back and head bowed down. He was motionless too as if waiting for his mouth to speak
on its own.

Jimin sighed, bored already. Instead, he decided to take a closer look at the boy. He couldn't see
him clearly from where he was seated in the last row but he could see that the boy's eyes were
hidden by his silky black hair, only his nose and lips were visible, and also his slightly rounded
cheeks. The boy was very pale as if the sunrays hadn't touched his skin for a long time. He was
wearing a blue oversized plaid shirt that reached his upper thigh and it was probably the boy's age
with how worn it looked and how wrinkled it was. Inside of that blue plaid shirt is their school
uniform that was just as wrinkly. If a flat iron ever saw this boy, it would probably chase after
him.

"J-Jeongguk…"

Jimin's head snapped up to the boy's face when he heard him speak.

"Jeon Jeongguk," he said timidly. Jimin couldn't see his eyes but he was sure Jeon was looking
down.

He sounded just like how he looked, weak. As if he was going to break.

"Is that all?" Cheon-ssaem asked after another minute of silence. Jeon nodded. "Will you not
mention your age? What are your hobbies? Nothing else?"

Jeon didn't answer and Cheon-ssaem only sighed. The class started murmuring between
themselves, continuing their interrupted conversations. Everyone was talking except for Jimin, who
was still focused on the new kid who stood in the front. There was nothing more interesting than a
new classmate anyway. Jimin saw Jeon's lips move, he didn't catch what he said, but by the way
Cheon-ssaem was pointing to a vacant chair in front of him, he probably asked where his seat was.

Jeon bowed to Cheon-ssaem and headed for his seat. He flinched halfway when Cheon-ssaem
clapped his hand to get the class' attention, but he continued to walk until he reached his seat. Jeon
quietly sat down. He slipped his backpack from his shoulders and placed it behind his back before
facing forward. He moved so slow, careful of his every move. Jimin couldn't blame him, everyone
was looking at him with hawk eyes, scrutinizing and judging.

Jimin could see Jeon's hands tremble when he placed them on top of his desk.

The class had been informed of a new classmate's arrival. Every year, they had classmates coming
in and out of the school. They were all used to it, but the thrill never faded. A new classmate meant
someone new to prey on, someone new to break down until nothing was left of them. Jimin never
joined his classmates as they tormented another, but he didn't interfere or do anything to stop them
either, no one dared to. Not even their teachers or the higher officials did something about it, and
even if some of them did care, they didn't care enough to reject the money offered to them to keep
their mouths shut. Besides, who would dare stop a bunch of spoiled brats raised by the most
powerful names in the city who could destroy them with the flick of their wrist? Who didn't want
money? And if someone dared to, they'd be dead meat. Jimin knew his classmates wouldn't lay a
finger on him as he was the City Mayor's son—no one would really want to mess with him—he
didn't do anything, he just watched. He was aware that that made him just as shitty as everyone
else.

And Jeon Jeongguk was the perfect target.

He came from Gajeong, one of the poorest neighborhoods in the city, lived a poor life, and most of
all, he was a thief's son. At least that was what he heard from his classmates. They do that every
time, do a stupid background check on everyone who entered the school to see if it was someone
whose ass they could kiss or if it was someone they could beat to a pulp and not suffer any
consequences.

Jimin had no idea how he ended up in such a prestigious school like this one. Jeon obviously wasn't
well-off to afford to study here, and he didn't seem like he wanted to be here in the first place. It
shouldn't matter to Jimin, he shouldn't care. Jimin looked away from Jeon and listened to Cheon-
ssaem's lecture instead.

This was going to be a long year.

Diagnostic tests are pointless. Why did they have to take exams about what they studied last year?
It sucked that their scores were recorded too. Honestly speaking, Jimin hadn't learned a single thing
last year, he never listened well to his teachers during lectures, and even if he did learn something,
the summer vacation sucked all of that out of his brain. Jimin loved to complain, it was the only
way he could vent out his frustrations. When exams came, he still studied—if memorizing the
notes he borrowed from one of his classmates was considered studying—staying up until a couple
of hours before going to school to make sure he wouldn't fail. He had to avoid failing, it wouldn't
do his father's reputation any good.

Now sitting in his chair, Jimin was bored out of his wits. He tapped his pen on his desk as they
waited for their homeroom teacher. Cheon-ssaem was never on time. When he finally arrived, he
apologized for being late. At least be punctual if you're really sorry. He handed the exam papers
upside down to each row, chastising one of their classmates when he took a peek.

He stopped tapping his pen when he noticed Jeongguk hastily rummaging through his bag. He
looked close to ripping it. Jimin saw how his hands shook, even though Jeongguk tried not to make
it obvious, as he searched through it over and over again. When he didn't find what he was looking
for, he looked under his desk, then under his chair, going back to his bag when he found nothing.
Jimin couldn't see his eyes because they were covered by his hair, but he could see his lips were
pointing down to a frown. He seemed so distressed, his chest rising and falling rapidly. Jimin
frowned, had no idea what Jeongguk was looking for, but he could guess.

Jimin took one of his ballpoint pens from his bag and handed it to Jeongguk quietly. Jeongguk
didn't notice him so Jimin poked his shoulder with the pen. Jeongguk flinched, and for a second,
Jimin thought he would scream too. Luckily, he didn't. Jeongguk tilted his head up, and probably
looked at him—he had no idea—and then at the pen being handed to him. He just looked at it for a
moment, as if it was his first time seeing a pen and its existence was a wonder. He lifted his hand
and pointed his thumb at himself, asking 'is this for me?' so Jimin nodded and gave him the pen.
Jeongguk visibly relaxed, and Jimin might be hallucinating due to lack of sleep, but he could swear
he saw his lips curl up into a tight smile before he turned his back on him.

Jeongguk felt like he could finally breathe after taking the diagnostic tests for all the subjects. He
would've failed everything and made a fool out of himself if it weren't for the kind classmate
behind him. Park Jimin was his name, if he recalled correctly. Jeongguk wasn't sure how he lost
his pen to be honest. He was so sure he had it in his bag just before he left for school this morning.

For a second, Jeongguk thought Jimin was going to punch him because why else would he extend
his hand like that? When he saw a pen, he became less tense, but also confused. He took it from his
hands and took the exam with a grateful heart. Jeongguk wasn't sure why Jimin would do that, why
he would lend him a pen. Not to mention he had done it so openly, he saw some of their classmates
looking. He hoped Jimin wouldn't get in trouble because of him. But at the same time, he couldn't
help the ugly feeling that grew in his chest. That was probably another trap that he had foolishly
fallen into, because why would someone ever offer him genuine kindness. He was probably after
something, there was probably a price for this. It had always been like that. Jeongguk felt
nauseous, he had to give the pen back as soon as he got the chance.
Jimin found himself watching Jeon throughout the weeks. He didn't know why he was doing it
either, his body was just telling him to keep an eye on him. Did he think Jeon was interesting? Did
he think of Jeon as some source of entertainment? Was he curious about him? Jimin wasn't sure. It
could be all of that, but also nothing.

Jimin noticed that he wore the same blue plaid shirt every day. The bleach stain on the sleeve was
the giveaway. Jeongguk was alone, always alone. During group activities, or when they had to pair,
no one in their class would even waste a second to think of including Jeongguk. He was always the
person with whom nobody wanted to be associated with. No one would dare befriend him even if
they wanted to because doing so was subjecting themselves to torture and pain in the foreseeable
future. Jeongguk didn't seem to mind the loneliness that much. He was probably aware of what was
to come too, if the way he recoiled every time someone got too close to him was anything to go
by.

He never heard Jeongguk say a word after that day. He would either nod or shake his head when
asked with something answerable by 'yes' or 'no', and if that was not the case, he wouldn't speak.
For some reason, that was good enough to offend their classmates.

"Jeon, are you fucking mute or something?" Junghoon sneered at Jeongguk as soon as the teacher
left their class, walking towards Jeongguk's seat. Junghoon was one of the people in school that
everyone feared. He was taller than kids his age, bigger in size too. He was more known here for
breaking noses than studying. Jimin joked once that Junghoon must think the school was a boxing
ring. They didn't consider each other friends, but they were forced to act like they were because
their fathers were.

When he didn't answer, Junghoon slapped his back tauntingly. Jeongguk flinched, but he remained
silent, and this seemed to have angered Junghoon more. He yanked Jeongguk's hair with so much
force Jimin thought he'd heard bones crack. Jeongguk hissed in pain, and he started to tremble.
Everyone in the class was gathered to watch as if this was some sort of action movie, while some
watched with goosebumps on their skin, eyes stinging with the fear that they'd be next. As usual,
no one intervened.

"I asked if you are fucking mute?"

"N-No, I'm—not," Jeongguk said, his voice was barely a whisper.

"I can't hear you!" he pulled harder.

"No. No," he said a little louder. Satisfied, Junghoon let him go, but not before smacking his head
so harshly that Jeongguk's head met the surface of his desk with a loud thud. Junghoon walked out
of the room next to his friends with a smirk on his face, not before patting Jimin's back and telling
him he'd wait for him later to play football.

Jimin shooed away the few people who were still watching Jeongguk, and then he quietly
motioned for everyone to leave the room, and they listened. He'd always done that. Perhaps it was
to get rid of the guilt that ate him away for not doing anything when he was perfectly capable of
stopping it. But at the same time, he felt like this was the only thing he could do. He still felt like
shit though, he would always think of himself as an asshole.

He was aware of the monstrosities that Junghoon and his friends were capable of doing, he had
seen it ever since he was thirteen. Three years later, nothing changed, they just seemed to be
getting worse. But even then, Jimin couldn't help but wish they would change. Trying to talk them
out of it wasn't a good choice, they wouldn't listen. People didn't really change. Jimin sighed
heavily. He stayed on his seat, behind Jeongguk.
 Jeongguk refused to move even half an hour later. Jimin wanted to tell him it was okay, everybody
left, but he didn't, he quietly sat there instead. He hoped the boy wouldn't think of him as a creep.
After a few more minutes, Jeongguk lifted his head up. He looked around warily, as if checking if
there was any kind of danger around him, and when he sensed that there was none, he relaxed.
When he saw Jimin he startled and jumped on the seat. He would have tumbled over the edge had
Jimin not yanked the chair upright.

"I'm—I'm sorry," Jeongguk said. It was the first time Jimin heard his voice up close. It was just as
weak and shaky as before, but it was clearer. Jimin wanted to hear more of it.

"Why are you apologizing? You did nothing wrong."

Jeongguk remained quiet.

"Are you okay?" Jimin asked, genuinely concerned.

Jeongguk quickly turned his back on him and with a shaky hand he brushed his hands down his
blue plaid shirt, ignoring Jimin's question and his whole existence.

Then, he left.

Chapter End Notes

kudos and comments are appreciated! :)

see you next chapter ~

bulalakaw

• meteor/shooting star.
 a thief's son
Chapter Notes

this update is really short but it's still something so i hope y'all don't mind <3

warnings for:
- bullying !!
- violence !!
- child abuse !!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Jeongguk nursed the cut on his forehead as soon as he got home that day. It was smaller than he
expected, but it still bled and stung. But compared to what he had experienced before, it was
nothing.

He lost count of how many times he had dropped out of school and then been forced to transfer to
another in the last two years. Jeongguk's life used to be so simple, and he liked that better even
though sometimes it was hard for them to even manage to eat proper meals thrice a day. They lived
in a shabby basement apartment that had once seen better days, they were now almost living with
mold. His mother was a housewife, his father worked as a construction worker, barely making
enough for them to survive a day. It didn't help that his father couldn't live a day without pouring
alcohol in his system, spending what little money they had on a few drinks.

“For fuck’s sake, Geokdu, you even have the audacity to waste your money on alcohol when you
can barely keep a roof over our heads? Where is the good fucking life and the luxury you
promised me, huh? Aren’t you ashamed to see your son, and me suffering like this?” And his
father would shove her and retort. “You! You and your fucking obsessions with all that luxury and
money bullshit. If you want them so bad then why do you not do anything? You mock me for not
working hard enough when you don’t even work. I fucking hate this life.”

His parents always argued about money. They yelled at each other everyday, so much so that some
days, Jeongguk could hear it ringing in his head. But even then, at least he lived a quiet life. He
enjoyed going to school, and although most of the time he'd go with a growling stomach, pockets
empty, and no lunchbox unlike the rest of his classmates, he was happy. He had friends, and they
adored him just as much as Jeongguk adored them. Jeongguk didn't live the best life, but he was
content with what he had. Life used to be so mundane, until his mother got locked up for stealing.

When his mother was caught bagging goodies at a grocery store, she was immediately dragged
into jail. No amount of pleading or any excuses worked. They didn't care that she had a family.
They didn't care that she stole because her family was starving.

Jeongguk rushed home and immediately searched all over their apartment for money, money that
he could use to bail his mother out because no one wanted to help them, not even his father cared.
While rummaging through his mother's cabinet, he saw a carton of baking soda that he
immediately pulled out, curious as to why there was a carton of baking soda in the nook of his
mother's cabinet. When he opened it, he saw a bunch of jewelry from rings, necklaces, earrings, to
bracelets inside it. Jeongguk had no idea how much they cost, but they looked like they were
enough to save them from this hell. They were all most likely stolen, and he wasn't sure if selling
them somewhere would be a good idea but he was desperate. He decided that he would go back to
his mother the next day, but before he could get out of the room his father stopped him, asking
what was inside the carton.

Jeongguk's memories of that moment were blurry. He could only remember struggling to escape
his father as they fought for the carton, knowing what was inside, then the next second he was
flung across the room, his head hitting the hard surface of the floor, bleeding. He could recall the
smell of blood, so much blood was around him it seemed as if he was bathing in it. That was all he
could remember before he blacked out. He woke up in a hospital bed the next day, with his
forehead stitched up. Hadn't their landlord found him, he would've bled to death. Jeongguk couldn't
get himself to be appreciative. They should've let him die.

After being discharged from the hospital, he went home to get a change of his clothes and cooked
some food for his mom. She probably hadn't had any real food for the past week. Jeongguk was
grateful towards his mother for teaching him how to cook at an early age, it now came in handy.

Jeongguk's father was gone along with the jewels. He couldn't bear the shame of being a thief's
husband, couldn't bear the shame of having had a son with a thief. But Jeongguk could barely feel
the pain, could barely feel anything at all. It never felt like his father was there, so when he left,
Jeongguk didn't really know how to feel or if there was anything to really feel at all.

His mother cried in front of him when she saw him a couple of weeks after being arrested. She told
Jeongguk she was sorry, and that stole so that he wouldn't have to starve. She stole so Jeongguk
would still be able to go to school because she knew how much Jeongguk loved going to school. It
was all for Jeongguk's sake. I didn't ask you to do that. Jeongguk just smiled and told her it was
okay. But it wasn't.

When Jeongguk went to school the next day, he felt the change slap him across the face. He felt
how it was like to be the son of his mother. A thief. He lost his friends in an instant, he lost
everyone he had. As if all the time they spent laughing under the trees doing their homework 10
minutes before classes started meant nothing. They discarded Jeongguk like trash so quickly, as if
he didn't matter.

Every day he'd come home with bruises, cuts, blood all over his face, and clothes ripped and torn
unfailingly. Every day his body ached from how he flew across the room when he was kicked on
the stomach. Sometimes his face would sting from hard he was slapped, and sometimes his scalp
would hurt and his hair would fall from how hard it was gripped. But Jeongguk was so used to it
that sometimes he couldn’t cry even if he wanted to.

Jeongguk told his mother that he would like to stop going to school because it was pointless. Over
the years, he had officially become everyone's punching bag. He had begged his mother, but she
wasn't fazed. She told him to stop asking for things he didn't mean. She told him she knew how
much Jeongguk loved school. I just want the best for you, I want you to have a good life. Jeongguk
would laugh, thanks to his mother, he was suffering the most.

But funny enough, he couldn't get himself to stop going to school. He might have gone crazy with
how much his head had been shaken from all the hits he had taken, but Jeongguk had gotten so
used to the pain that he thought if he didn't feel it, he'd lose every feeling remaining.

He was angry at first, angry at his mother for stealing and getting caught. His mother said it was
for his sake, but if it really was, then why was he suffering? He was angry at the world for being so
unfair, for being so ruthless. It wasn't Jeongguk's fault that he was poor, it wasn't his fault his
mother stole, it wasn't he who had stolen so why did they treat him like everything was his fault?
Then he was angry at himself. Angry at himself for ever being born, angry at himself for not dying
surrounded by his blood that day. Angry at himself for allowing all these things to happen to him.
But what could he do? He had no money, no power, no nothing. He had no one. He was angry, but
now he had accepted his fate and learned how to live with it.

He wasn't Jeongguk, not Jeon Jeongguk. He was 'the thief's son'.

Jeongguk pushed his now long hair back to put a band aid on his newly cleaned wound, and when
he was done, he couldn't help but look at the bump starting from his forehead that reached his left
temple. It was just a scar, proof of that day being true, but somehow every time he looked at it, he
could see it bleeding. It was ugly hence why he grew his hair long until it covered his forehead,
now reaching below his eyes. He wanted to forget that that traumatic day existed.

He wanted to forget everything.

Aside from a few nasty jabs to his face, and some spiteful words, the following week went pretty
good for Jeongguk. He figured out that if he went along with what they wanted, they would leave
him alone quickly. Jeongguk supposed he had become an expert at this game. He knew how things
worked, what made it work. It was only a matter of applying those things in real life, and that way
he could make things easier for himself somehow.

He still used the pen Jimin had lent him, much to his embarrassment. Jeongguk supposed he was
pitiful, he couldn't even buy a new pen. His mother hadn't given him his allowance for two months
now, and he had yet to get his salary from the retail store he worked part-time. He needed to be
careful with spending his money. Honestly, Jeongguk had no idea where his mother was getting
her money. Her only remaining family, her sister, had disowned her. When Jeongguk asked how
she could afford to give Jeongguk money and still send him to school, especially his current
school, she simply said it was one of her friends. Jeongguk didn't push. He supposed it didn't
matter. In fact, he should be grateful that he could eat whatever he wanted whenever he wanted
now, he could buy his necessities, he didn't have to starve anymore. But despite that, he couldn't
say his life was better.

Jeongguk had been meaning to give Jimin his pen back since last week, but besides the fact that he
didn't have anything to replace it with yet, he also hadn't had the chance to be alone with Jimin. He
didn't want to give it to him when he knew someone could see. He didn't want there to be a
misunderstanding. Jimin was the first person who had shown him anything close to kindness in
two years, he didn't want to get him in trouble. Jimin wasn't asking for it anyway, so he probably
didn't need it yet.

Their marks on their diagnostic tests came out that afternoon and Jeongguk got the highest mark,
and Jeongguk couldn't help the fear that crept up on his bones. Cheon-ssaem congratulated him and
handed him his exam papers which he took in a rush, but aside from that, the classroom was eerily
quiet and some of his classmates were glaring at him. Jeongguk didn't aim for the highest score, he
simply answered what he knew. He felt nauseous, he knew what was to come.

As soon as the bell rang, Jeongguk stood up, slinging his bag on his shoulders in a haste. But
before he could leave for the door, he toppled forward with a loud thud, the side of his face
meeting with the corner of the chair. He groaned in pain. Someone had kicked him in the back.

"Who do you think you are, scoring that high?" One of his classmates sneered, Jeongguk didn't
recognize him. "There's no way you got those scores without cheating."
 "What did you expect from a beggar? He was probably desperate to get a scholarship."

Jeongguk couldn’t care less about what they were saying, he was twisting in pain, he hit his knee
too hard when he fell. A sob was ripped out of his chest when someone stepped on his hands,
amplifying the pain he was feeling.

"How do you even afford to study here? Mama stole lots for you?" A voice he recognized as
Junghoon mocked. The class hollered in laughter, while tears streamed down Jeongguk's face. He
was past struggling, he just laid there, his hands protecting his head, unmoving. They would get
tired, he told himself.

"Just breathing the same air as you makes me want to fucking puke. Go back to where you belong,
you stupid peasant!"

Jeongguk closed his eyes, ready to take another blow.

" Fucking stop !" was all he heard as he prepared for the impact.

But it didn't come.

Chapter End Notes

kudos and comments are appreciated!

see you next chapter :)

 young
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Jimin went straight to the infirmary before the first subject after lunch. The nurse in charge just
looked at him and sighed, already used to it. No one reprimanded him, perks of being the Mayor's
son, so he lied down on the beds there and slept. He wasn't supposed to go to school today because
he wasn't feeling it, but he had to know if he did well in their diagnostic tests and it turned out that
he had done well. He was one of the five top scorers, but Jeongguk did better. He ranked first .
Jimin wanted to congratulate him but he didn't think Jeongguk would appreciate him talking to him
so he refrained and smiled to himself instead. Jimin got up from the bed when he heard the school
bell rang, ready to go home. But that was when he realized he didn't bring his bag with him. He
groaned, jumped off the bed and headed back to the classroom.

As soon as he saw students of different classes gathered in front of their classroom, Jimin felt his
heart jump in his throat.

Fuck.

He ran as fast as he could, pushing away the people blocking the way. He stopped when he
reached their classroom, and when he saw a blue plaid shirt, his knees almost buckled. Jeongguk
was lying on the floor on his back, hands over his face, shaking. Everyone was gathered around
him, as if he was a prey surrounded by a group of starved hyenas. When he saw Junghoon lift his
foot, Jimin screamed.

"Fucking stop!"

Jimin’s nostrils were fucking flaring. He slammed the slightly ajar door open and kicked the
nearest chair, sending it flying across the room. A few of his classmates who were almost hit with
the chair gasped, running to the other side of the room. Oh, how Jimin wished the chair smashed
their heads. He stood in front of Jeongguk who was still trembling on the floor, shielding him from
everyone’s eyes even though it was futile.

“Move,” Jimin said, voice a lot more stable than he had expected. Everyone scurried away, except
Junghoon who smirked, but was betrayed by the sweat that damped his forehead. Jimin took
another step forward Junghoon and they were so close he could knock this asshole’s head off.
Junghoon couldn’t possibly think Jimin was afraid of him. “I said move ,” Jimin bellowed.
Junghoon did, tripping on his own feet. “Aw, is our little Junghoon scared?” He taunted, jutting his
bottom lip out. Junghoon opened his mouth to retort back but no words left his mouth when Jimin
tutted, shaking his head mockingly. He heard shuffling and papers ruffling behind him. The crowd
gasped and whispers got louder as the sound of running footsteps echoed down the hall.

That must be Jeongguk.

“This is the last time you’re touching him, Junghoon,” Jimin glared.

Junghoon scoffed. “Come on, Jimin. It’s not like you meddle with my business. Since when do you
care who the fuck I beat up, man?”

He had always cared, but he wasn’t brave enough. There, he said it. He wasn’t brave enough to
intervene and he regretted all the times he heard someone cry for help or saw someone’s blood on
the floor and did nothing but scribble dicks on the back of his notebook. He was surprised at
himself for using his voice. Perhaps seeing Jeongguk lying on the floor, so weak and small, his
cries muted, not even asking for help, was enough to finally break Jimin. He had had enough of
this bullshit.

Jimin chuckled, and then leaned in closer to Junghoon, so close their noses were almost touching.
“Do you think you’re some hotshot just ‘cause you go around and piss on anyone’s face? Is that
why you go around bullying people so you don’t cry like a baby before bedtime? Did your mommy
never kiss you goodnight or is your dick just too small that you need to bully others to handle your
fragile ego?”

It was gratifying to see Junghoon like this. Eyes brimming with tears and face red, about to burst
into tears any moment. He couldn’t imagine how painful it must’ve been for Junghoon to hear his
classmates laugh at him.

Too bad Jimin didn’t give a single fuck though.

Jimin walked around the school as he reasoned with himself that it was to get some fresh air, but he
couldn’t ignore the way he turned his head left and right at every corner he passed by. He was
looking for someone. He was looking for Jeongguk, and he had no idea where he went. He had
checked all the now empty classrooms and there hadn’t been any sign of the boy. Before he
continued to look for him, Jimin dropped by the infirmary to get some supplies to care for the
wounds that he was sure Jeongguk had, and then to the cafeteria to get some apple juice back and a
sandwich. He put them all in a paper bag and bolted outside.

It crossed Jimin’s mind that Jeongguk went home, but he didn’t completely cross out the
possibility that he was still in the school vicinity so he continued to look for him. He looked for
him in the locker room, the bathrooms, cafeteria, and field A but he wasn’t there. Jimin was about
to give up and just go home when he remembered field B. Of course, Jeongguk would want to go
somewhere people wouldn’t see or bother him.

Not many people went to field B except for the maintenance workers. Aside from the fact that it
was farther from the classrooms and all the buildings in the school than field A, there were a lot of
stories about field B that spooked everyone. They said that the field was where most of the bullied
students were found, all of them lifeless. Where they would spend their final moments, debating
whether it was worth living. Where their “spirits” wander around, lost and never found.

Sometimes, living felt more of a burden than dying, and it seemed like dying could be much less
painful than actually living. At this point, some people, maybe people like Jeongguk were not even
living anymore, but simply existing and trying to get by, day by day.

The hues of rosy pink and orange gold of tangerines spread far and wide in the sky. It was getting
dark, but as Jimin reached field B, he could see the huge difference from the other field. Even
though this was still under constant maintenance, it was obvious that it wasn't given much attention
from the amount of rust and mold clinging on the steel benches around the field. It also felt
different in a way Jimin couldn't explain, he felt the hair in his body stand.

Jimin almost missed Jeongguk if he hadn’t heard the boy's hiccups. He turned his head towards the
sound and saw him hiding behind the frayed soccer net. Jeongguk's knees were pressed to his
chest, arms hugging his legs. Most of his face was covered by his hair, and because of the way his
head was lowered, Jimin could only see his lips. Tears were running down his face, and even with
this lighting, he could see there were some dried tear tracks. He was still shaking andJimin's heart
crumbled at the sight.
"Hey," Jimin said softly, afraid of startling Jeongguk, but it was pointless because Jeongguk
grabbed his bag and scurried to his feet, but winced as soon as he stepped his foot on the ground
and tumbled down. Fortunately, Jimin caught him by the arm and helped him on his feet.

Jeongguk tried to remove Jimin's hand that was holding his arm as if it disgusted him. "Don't..."

"I won't hurt you. Okay? I'm here to help you. I-I helped you, right? I don't know if you know me
but I'm Jimin. Park Jimin. I sit behind you," Jimin rambled in hopes of calming Jeongguk
somehow. He was breathing too fast. Jimin feared one second he would just stop.

"Jimin…” Jeongguk stopped struggling in his hold and tilted his head up, looking at him.

Jimin smiled. "Yes! I lent you my pen, remember?" Jeongguk nodded. "I'm not gonna hurt you. I'm
holding you by the arm 'cause it seems like your foot is badly hurt and I don't want you to fall.
Okay?"

Jeongguk gulped, looking over his shoulder. He was probably waiting for their classmates to come
and gang up on him.

Jimin sighed. “Don’t worry. No one’s gonna come, it’s just me.”

Jeongguk didn't seem convinced and pulled away weakly.

"I promise I'm not here to hurt you," Jimin reassured. Jeongguk looked at him for another minute
before nodding again.

Jeongguk didn’t say anything. He pulled away from Jimin and slowly sat down on the grass again.
Jimin stayed by his side just in case he fell again. When he was seated, Jimin crouched down, eye-
leveled with Jeongguk. It shattered Jimin's heart in pieces when he saw Jeongguk cowering in fear
in front of him. His arms were covering his head protectively, as if readying himself in case Jimin
tried to hurt him. Jeongguk's blue plaid shirt slightly rode up his arms and it didn't escape his eyes
how his arms were filled with cuts, most of them were just scars but some couldn't be a couple of
weeks old. Jimin swallowed down the lump in his throat.

"You're hurt somewhere, aren't you?" Jimin said, focusing on what was more important, more of a
statement than a question. He had a feeling that if he asked, Jeongguk would lie to him even though
it was obvious. "I have things that can help with your wounds," he said with the softest voice he
could manage, lifting the paper bag for Jeongguk to see. Instead of answering, Jeongguk just
looked at it and then moved back, pushing himself using one of his feet.

He wondered just how much Jeongguk went through for him to be so guarded.

Jimin maintained his distance, not wanting to frighten Jeongguk even more. "It's okay. I promise I
won't hurt you. I'm not like them. I'm here to help you." Jeongguk cocked his head to the side, he
couldn't see his eyes but Jimin could feel him watching him, and he couldn't stop himself from
feeling self conscious. He cleared his throat. "I think there's a wound on your head, some scratches
on your arms, and your foot is probably fractured too. I can help you. Will you let me help you?"

No one spoke for a few minutes. It was getting darker, the lights in the field were practically
useless.

Instead of answering, Jeongguk scooted a tiny bit closer. Jimin felt like he could finally breathe.

"Let me clean your wounds first." Jeongguk didn’t speak so Jimin figured he could continue. "I
play basketball and soccer so I get hurt often. I get a lot of wounds, and if I'm extremely unlucky, a
sprain or a fracture. I'm used to them by now, and they're the reason I learned how to nurse my
own wounds." Jeongguk nodded timidly in understanding.

"I'm moving closer to you. That way, I can see and disinfect your wounds properly," Jimin said.
Jeongguk didn’t answer again and Jimin took that as a yes and stepped forward, just enough for
them to be one foot apart. "Can you give me your hands?"

Jeongguk looked at his hands and then rolled down the sleeve of his plaid shirt hastily. While
Jeongguk was busy rolling his sleeves up, Jimin sanitized his hands with alcohol to avoid infecting
the wounds with dirty hands, and prepared everything he would need. Jeongguk extended his hands
out to him after a few minutes. Jimin held them carefully, afraid Jeongguk would flee at the
slightest touch. He examined his hands first to look at the wounds and there were a few on his
knuckles and the side of his palms. Jimin cleaned the affected area with some wipes since he didn't
have any water. He then picked up the cotton tip applicator and put betadine on it, using it to
spread it on the minor wounds. Jeongguk just sat there quietly, watching him, hands twitching in
nervousness every now and then.

"We're done with your hands," Jimin said.

Silence.

"Let me see your forehead. It was bleeding." When Jeongguk didn’t answer, Jimin assumed it was
another yes and reached his hand out to brush the hair blocking him from seeing Jeongguk's
forehead but Jeongguk slapped his hands away and flinched back.

“N-No.”

"Alright, I'm sorry." Jimin sighed, he didn't want to push him. "But at least clean it up." He handed
him the wipes, and thankfully he listened and wiped the dried blood on his face.

"Does your foot hurt a lot?" As soon as the question left his mouth, Jeongguk recoiled, hiding his
feet—his shoes specifically—from Jimin. He was probably trying to hide the way his shoes' soles
were almost separating from the shoe themselves, as if the shoes had a huge gaping mouth.

"Hey, it's okay," Jimin assured, a small smile plastered on his face. Jeongguk slowly pushed his
leg forward from where he hid them. "Does it hurt a lot?" he repeated.

Jeongguk shook his head.

"Are you telling me the truth?"

A nod.

"Can you move it to the left and then right?" Jimin asked. Jeongguk did, wincing a little, but he
managed to do it without much struggle. "Can you stand up? Try to put some pressure on your
foot." Jimin helped him stand up, just in case he stumbled and hurt himself more. Much to Jimin's
relief, Jeongguk didn't seem like he was in pain. "Does it hurt to stand on your feet?" Jeongguk
checked, stood up on his feet.

Another shake of the head.

"It looks fine to me. It doesn't hurt much, does it?" Jeongguk shook his head in lieu of an answer. It
wasn't swollen, it didn't hurt that much when he put pressure on it so he should be fine. Junghoon
stepped on it hard enough to be painful but not enough to sprain or break. "Are you sure?"
Jeongguk hummed. "That's a relief. If it starts to hurt too much, let me know." He didn't answer but
it was okay.

Jeongguk pulled his knees to his chest again, cowering away from Jimin.

"I brought you food, too. I didn't see you eat this lunch break." Jimin never saw Jeongguk eat in
class since the first day. "Are you hungry?" he asked. "I have apple juice here and a sandwich," he
said, showing them to Jeongguk.

Jeongguk remained silent, Jimin thought he wasn't interested and he was about to put them back in
the bag when Jeongguk spoke.

"Okay," he said, getting the food from Jimin. "Thank you," he said, voice barely a whisper.

A smile blossomed in Jimin’s face at the words. Jeongguk didn’t speak much and if he did, he was
always apologizing, voice always shaky with fear. He sat in front of Jeongguk slowly, watching
what his reactions would be. He flinched a little but he didn’t seem like he minded as he continued
to munch on the sandwich leisurely, and Jimin had to refrain himself from cooing when he saw
Jeongguk's cheeks bunch up, and then he drank the juice when he seemed to choke on the
sandwich. Jimin wasn't sure what he was feeling right now, and it confused him why he cared for
this boy who he had met a month ago. He wasn't sure, but he could feel a certain warmth in his
chest when he looked at him.

Something akin to fondness.

Jeongguk dreaded going to school the next day, afraid they would hurt him again as soon as he saw
them. He was initially afraid of the same thing happening to Jimin too but to his surprise, it didn’t
happen. Instead, for the first time as Jeongguk entered their classroom, although slightly limping,
no one Jeongguk liked that more than the judging gazes and hits. It was better than being kicked
and tossed around the room as if he was garbage.

He sat down on his chair, looking over his shoulder, afraid he would fall on his ass if someone
pulled a prank on him like before, but it didn't happen. For the first time in two years, he entered a
classroom and sat on his desk in peace. It was weird indeed, but Jeongguk liked it this way. He felt
like he could be normal again but he knew better than to believe that.

Throughout the day, Jeongguk was waiting for someone to hit him, flinching every time someone
stood too close to him but nothing happened. Despite the glares, his classmates didn't hurt him,
they didn't even come near him or speak a single word about him. He had no idea what Jimin said
or did but Jeongguk could feel his eyes burning. To experience this kind of normalcy again, even if
just for a day, was something he didn’t think was possible. He missed going to school without
people judging him, talking behind his back about him or how fucked up his family was, and fists
waiting to meet his face. He missed being able to listen to lectures in peace, write down notes
without being afraid of someone suddenly yanking his head back. It continued on like that for a
week, and then another week, scared that today would be the last.

During one of their lunch breaks, when everyone was at the cafeteria, Jimin left a tray full of food
beside his desk. Jeongguk pretended to be asleep until the bell rang. He had no idea who removed
the tray but he was glad it was gone. He was already kicking himself for talking to Jimin or
allowing him to help the other day, for falling for whatever this was. He wasn’t about to fall
deeper.

Jeongguk tried his best not to feel bothered at the feeling of someone watching him from behind.
Jimin might be acting nice right now for reasons Jeongguk didn’t know, but who knew how he'd
treat him later?

“Jeon, I think I asked you to cut your hair short, didn’t I?” Cheon-ssaem asked during their
homeroom class, brows knitted together. All of a sudden, everyone’s eyes were on him. He hated
being the center of attention. He could hear some of his classmates snickering. Jeongguk didn’t
answer, playing with the hole on his plaid shirt, and Cheon-ssaem expected as much. It didn’t stop
him from growing more irritated though. “You have to cut your damn hair if you want to stay in
this school. If you think you look fine, reconsider ,” he said, and there was a mocking tone in his
voice. “How could you possibly go to school looking so grubby? Come out of your emo phase,” he
scoffed. “Cut it. Tomorrow .”

Jeongguk nodded. Satisfied, Cheon-ssaem clapped his hands and started to talk about other things
that Jeongguk was too preoccupied to listen to. He didn’t want to cut his hair. Just the thought of it
was enough to make him nauseous. He pillowed his head on his hands and slept through the whole
class. No one paid him attention.

Jimin was at the school before the sun even rose in the East. He’d rather ride a jammed-pack bus
than ride the car with his father and have to bear to listen to his poor attempts at conversation and
fake concern. To hopefully tone down his anger a little, Jimin let his eyes flutter close, and listened
to the chirping of the birds. It couldn't be more than a couple of minutes later that he heard the
sound of the door opening. Wondering who would go to school this early, he opened his eyes and
caught a glimpse of a blue plaid shirt.

Jeongguk.

Like a fool, he wiped his non-existent drool with the back of his hand and sat up straight, watching
as Jeongguk walked to his chair. He walked so slowly that it seemed as if he wasn’t moving at all.
Jimin was sure Jeongguk didn’t even notice him. It wasn't until Jeongguk was seated and
accidentally met Jimin's eyes—because he was staring—that he noticed Jeongguk's eyes were…
visible. He could see his eyes. Jeongguk's hair was cut short, his hair hanging over his forehead,
just below his eyebrows, and Jimin had to blink his eyes several times to make sure his eyes
weren’t tricking him.

Most of the students who met Jeongguk made a lot of assumptions and guesses on why his hair
was so long. Some said that he was unattractive and self-conscious about his appearance. Some
speculated that he was doing it for attention, while others speculated that he had a large scar on his
face. Jimin had no idea which was the truth, and he didn't care.

To say that Jeongguk's eyes were beautiful was an understatement but he couldn't think of a better
word. Jeongguk had big rounded eyes, the roundest eyes Jimin had ever seen. His eyes were brown,
irises full, and the way the rising sun reflected in his eyes made it look like they were stars in his
eyes. They made him look his age. Young. As if the world hadn’t hurt him and robbed him of his
innocence.

He, too, was...beautiful.

"Good morning," Jimin said, gulping when he felt his throat dry. Jeongguk didn't answer, lying
down on his desk instead. Jimin had to force himself to look away and if his heart beat faster than
it normally would, Jimin ignored it.

Cheon-ssaem praised Jeongguk for listening and cutting his hair short.
 "You look so much better now, Jeon. You could pass as human now," Cheon-ssaem smiled wryly.
"Don't you agree, class?"

Their classmates nodded and giggled to themselves, making Jeongguk lower his head. Some
actually meant it when they told Jeongguk looked good. He didn't seem to appreciate it though,
desperately trying to brush his bangs down to cover his face.

During lunch break, Jimin waited as everyone shuffled out of the room to give Jeongguk a
sandwich and apple juice. Maybe this time he will accept it. When Jeongguk looked at him and
then extended his hand, Jimin believed that he might.

"Your pen," he said, voice clipped.

Jimin looked at the pen, the one he lent Jeongguk. "Oh," he said dumbly, and grabbed the pen, his
heart jumping in his chest when their fingers brushed. Jeongguk turned his back to him and
proceeded to lie down on his desk, unaware of his crisis. Jimin was getting frustrated.

Why wouldn't Jeongguk talk to him? He seemed okay with Jimin when they were on field B.
Jeongguk talked to him somehow, but right now Jeongguk was as detached and as cold as ever. But
then again, he couldn’t blame the boy.

He left the room with a sigh.

Chapter End Notes

kudos and comments are appreciated!

see you next chapter! :)

 you're my shooting star
Chapter Notes

i listened to Film Out so much while writing this chapter and i recommend you to
listen to it too as you read :)

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Jimin wasn't dumb enough to believe that Junghoon would let Jeongguk off the hook that easily
hence why he tried to be near Jeongguk as much as possible. He stayed with him during lunch
break, stayed near him during class activities, and made sure Junghoon didn't follow him on his
way home. He didn’t know where this sudden protectiveness came from, but if one thing was for
sure, he didn’t want to see Jeongguk get hurt ever again.

But one afternoon, while he was on his way to the classroom, he suddenly felt so dizzy that he had
to go straight into the infirmary and he fell asleep there without meaning to. Needless to say,
Junghoon and his friends took that opportunity to get back to Jeongguk. Jimin saw red when he
saw Jeongguk on the floor bleeding.

Jimin left the room with his clothes stained with more blood of Junghoon and his friends. They
should've listened when Jimin asked them nicely.

Jimin carried Jeongguk to the infirmary despite the boy's protest. He let the nurse do what she had
to do, watching at the sidelines, feeling so fucking useless. The nurse assured him that it was
nothing serious, just a few cuts that could be quickly treated. Jimin nodded his head and tried his
best not to appear as anxious as he was but as the nurse tended to Jeongguk, he was restless. He
paced around the room while checking on Jeongguk every now and then to see if he was still
conscious and what a relief that he was. When the nurse was done, Jimin thanked her, and she left.
Jimin sat beside Jeongguk, and the boy flinched on instinct.

"Are you okay?" Jimin asked, even though it was a stupid question. Jeongguk clearly wasn't and as
expected, he didn't answer. He just kept looking at Jimin, as if he was about to stare into his soul.
Jeongguk’s hair slightly cascaded away from his face, revealing his eyebrows and forehead. When
Jimin saw the huge scar on his forehead, he flinched before he could even stop himself and he
wanted to set himself on fire when Jeongguk turned away from him and briskly brushed his hair
back down, covering what he had hoped no one would ever see. Jimin glanced down at this lap.

"Why are you doing this?" Jeongguk asked, tone accusatory.

"What do you mean?"

"Why do you keep helping me?" Jeongguk frowned.

Jimin asked himself that too and it was always the same answer.

It was because he was guilty, he pitied Jeongguk, and most of all, he wanted to stop feeling useless.
He wanted to do something simply because he could .

"Why do you let them do that to you?" Jimin changed the topic. "Why don't you fight?"
Jeongguk scoffed, but his big eyes were shiny. "If I fight, will they stop? Will that stop them?"

Jimin opened his mouth and closed it wordlessly. No, they wouldn't. Jimin knew they wouldn't
stop. In fact, that would only provoke them even more.

After a minute of silence, Jeongguk cleared his throat and sheepishly said, "Thank you," while
looking everywhere but at him. Jimin couldn’t help the way the corners of his mouth slightly lifted
up.

Jeongguk came to the conclusion that maybe Jimin wasn't as bad as he thought.

He wasn't like the other rich and spoiled kid who liked to bully kids as if their life depended on it.
Jimin was quiet, he didn't interact much with their classmates as well, and didn't seem to have
friends, much like Jeongguk. Strange enough, he found some sense of comfort in knowing that
maybe Jimin understood what it felt like to be lonely most of the time. Still, whenever Jimin would
try to initiate a conversation, it never failed to shock him, though these days he was getting used to
it. Jeongguk was convinced that Jimin was only being kind to him because it was a trap, but when
he saw him beat Junghoon and his friends to a pulp, Jeongguk's mind changed.

Maybe Jimin was different.

Jeongguk had managed to let his guard down a little since then. Whenever Jimin approached him
during lunch breaks and offered him food, he accepted it despite his embarrassment. He realized he
had to avoid acting as though he wasn't hungry. In such a case, pride will be useless. Besides, Jimin
had made it clear that he had no intention of harming anyone.

Then it gradually evolved into Jimin and him sharing a quiet lunch. Jimin would bring him a tray
of food, and when Jeongguk shyly accepted, he would sit next to him and begin eating. Jeongguk
followed suit. When he'd burp so loudly that it would reverberate throughout the room, he'd
apologize. Jimin, on the other hand, would simply laugh it off.

One day, he found himself bringing home the carton of apple juice Jimin had given him and placed
it inside his drawer. Even if he wasn’t certain about the whole friendship yet, he at least wanted to
remember the boy who had once been kind to him.

Just like that, he found himself warming up to Jimin.

Jimin who had the most infectious laugh Jeongguk had ever heard. Rosy cheeks bunched up, eyes
disappearing into crescents, and slightly crooked teeth poking out. Since he had been labeled as the
thief's son, Jimin was the first person to smile at him. Jimin, who didn't seem to mind that he was
associated with such a repulsive person. Jimin who was happy for him when he'd ace his exams.
Jimin who made sure he ate lunch everyday, made sure he wasn't starving. Jimin who made him
feel like he had a friend.

A friend .

It sounded strange to his ears, to have someone who he could call a friend. Although there was this
ugly feeling in his chest, always wondering when Jimin would grow tired of him and abandon him
like every other one of his friends did. But maybe he could give this one to himself.

Jeongguk was snapped out of his thoughts when a car behind him honked.

"Pay more attention when you're walking! Jesus , do you want to fucking die?" The man inside the
car spat out angrily. Jeongguk wished he could ask the man to just run him over.
Jeongguk was on his way to see his mother for the first time in a long time; he couldn't recall the
last time he had seen her. He was only meeting her because he had been asked to come; he had no
desire to see her. Jeongguk usually didn’t feel anything when seeing his mother but right now, he
couldn’t deny the fact that he was feeling a little excited. He wanted to tell her about Jimin. A new
friend, however strange that might sound. Was he his friend? His mother’s sentence was intended
to be just a year, but the owner of the grocery store where she stole from decided to go as far as he
could, so his mother was sentenced to two years. She was supposed to finish her sentence next
week, he had no idea why he was being called so early.

Jeongguk's mother embraced him as soon as she got out of her cell, but he couldn't bring himself to
reciprocate, his hands limp on his side. She seemed thinner, as if her time in there had taken a
decade off her life. Her eye bags were so deep, almost black, under her eyes, as though she hadn't
slept in years. His mother cradled his face and told him he’d miss him.

"I've missed you! Why didn't you visit me? I feel sad," she pouted like a child. “Oh my God, when
did you cut your hair?” She gasped, mouth dropping in surprised. “You look just like you were
when you were a baby.” Her voice was thick with emotion, like she could cry any moment.

"Busy with school," Jeongguk replied, pulling away from his mother. "Why was I called here?"

When Jeongguk saw his mother's face fall and her shoulder sag, he knew what he was about to hear
wasn't going to be nice. His mother took a long time to respond, opening and closing her mouth
several times without saying anything. She told him to sit down first so he did. They sat across
each other, the silence uncomfortable but familiar. Finally, after a few minutes, she spoke up. "I...I
got caught selling drugs," she admitted, voice wavering. She was looking at Jeongguk expectantly,
waiting for his reaction, for what he had to say. Maybe he was expecting Jeongguk to run to her and
hug her and assure her that everything would be alright. However, Jeongguk just laughed , the
sound forced its own way out of his throat. He let his head fall into his palms and laughed,
borderline hysterically.

Jeongguk wasn't sure why he was laughing. Perhaps he was too shocked to react differently, or
maybe he thought this was ironic. It was funny how just last week, his mother had called on the
phone and swore she would change. Deep inside him, he knew. He supposed he had known
something was off from the moment his mother suddenly started giving him wads of cash, but for a
moment he had hoped his mother's friend was really the one helping him. He was laughing so hard
but he wanted to cry.

His mother was taken aback by the reaction, left with nothing to say other than, "I'm sorry." She
was crying, body racking with sobs. She kept apologizing to him, as if her apologies could change
anything. As if they could turn back time. Jeongguk didn't feel sorry for her.

"A thief, now a drug dealer, too. Inside the prison? Really?" He laughed bitterly, head thrown back.

"I did—"

Jeongguk cut her off before she could blurt out her bullshit. "What? You did this for me ? This is
for my sake, again? I didn't ask you to do that—"

"Jeongguk—"

"Aren't you tired, Ma? 'Cause I am," he said, seething.

What a shame, he had been excited to see her. He even thought of mentioning his new friend to
him, or how well things were going in school. How stupid of him.
He slammed the door open to his room, sank to the floor and let the tears finally fall.

"Son, I told you to stop riding the goddamn bus. What are all our cars for?" Jimin's father snapped
when he caught him sneaking out again. "I can take you to school."

"Who said I want those cars?" Jimin replied blatantly. It was too early for this.

“What do you think the people will think if they saw you riding buses, huh? They’d think I’m
neglecting you.”

Jimin laughed making his father flinch. “Of course, none of this was about me. It was always about
what other people would think. All about your reputation . I couldn't care less about what they
think about me. They can kiss your ass all they want, but I'm not going to do it.”

"Don't talk to me like that," his father was furious, brows furrowed. "Get in the car." Jimin's father
demanded in a voice that would make Jimin follow his orders. But not anymore.

"I said no," Jimin stood his ground, walking away. "I don't wanna be anywhere near you, father.
You make me feel sick."

That was the last straw. Jimin's father stormed towards him and fisted his shirt, almost lifting Jimin
from the ground. His father's face was red, veins in his forehead and neck visible, about to pop out.
"You disrespectful child, where did you learn how to talk like that? I did not teach you to be so ill-
mannered."

Jimin scoffed. "I did not learn anything from you."

His father let go of him, sending Jimin tumbling backward.

"Had your mother been alive, she would be disappointed in you!"

"Don't you dare say her name! Had you not been so fucking stubborn and selfish, she would still be
alive! You took her away from me so don't you dare speak of her!" Jimin screamed, shaking with
anger. His vision was blurry and face was wet with tears. He wanted to be tough, but the mention
of his mother had him so weak.

Jimin and his father used to have a wonderful relationship; they got along extremely well. His
father would take him to play golf once a week, bragging to his friends about how good his son
was. Along with his mother, he was one of the people Jimin loved and had the most faith in. He
adored his father and wished to be like him.

That was until his mother was killed.

The entirety of Jimin’s day was simply shitty.

There was that gaping hole in his chest again—the kind that twisted his stomach into painful knots
and squeezed his heart to the point that he was breathless. He tried not to think of his mother as it
brought him nothing but pain. He missed the way she used to smile so big her eyes would
disappear, and even though the lines that showed her age were visible, they didn’t make her any
less beautiful. A lot of people had told him that he looked just like his mother, especially when she
smiled, and Jimin would do anything to see her smile again. He missed the way she used to caress
Jimin’s face and left reassuring pats on his head and kisses on his cheeks. He missed the way her
brows furrowed when she was mad or upset. He missed the way she would tell him how proud she
was of him, whatever he chose to do or whoever he chose to be. Jimin wished he could tell her once
more, tell her all the things he failed to say. He missed her so fucking bad and it was killing him to
know that she wasn’t going to come back.

The sun was about to disappear behind the safety of the horizon, and the quietness of field B
appeased the aches in his heart. It seemed to sympathize with his pain, no matter how silly that
might sound. Jimin was seated on a rusty bench on field B, alone in the vastness of the place. He
had no idea how he ended up here after walking aimlessly around the school, but for some reason,
he liked it here. Jimin pulled his knees to his chest and rested his forehead on it. For the first time
since mother died, he let himself feel the pain and cried.

Jimin wasn’t sure how long he was just there, crying, but amidst it all he heard the sound of
footsteps and then a shadow loomed over him. Jimin glanced up, not caring if there was snot on his
face or if his eyes were rimmed red. He had half a mind to glare and shoo away whoever it was, but
all his defenses vanished when he saw a rough hand—one that had bruises and cuts and one that he
had become used to—peeking out an oversized blue plaid shirt.

Jeongguk didn’t say anything. He simply looked at Jimin and gave him a small smile. He probably
wanted it to be comforting and knowing that Jeongguk rarely let his emotions show, fresh tears
pricked Jimin’s eyes. He averted his gaze when he couldn't handle it anymore. Jimin hated looking
weak in front of other people, his confident and strong façade masked his pain and misery. But
with Jeongguk, he realized that he didn't mind being vulnerable.

Jeongguk was quiet as he listened to Jimin's sobs and as he watched his shoulders shake. When
Jimin's cries died down, Jeongguk was the first to break to silence much to Jimin's surprise.

"Done?" Jeongguk asked, genuinely curious.

Jimin giggled at his abrupt question, albeit watery. "Mm."

"Feel better?" Jeongguk's head was tilted to the side again, a habit Jimin noticed, his hair falling
over to the side of his face and revealing his round eyes.

"No," Jimin shook his head tiredly, looking at Jeongguk with tears running down his face.

Jeongguk sat at the other end of the bench, far enough that two people could sit in between. He
seemed to be thinking about his next words carefully.

"Do...do you want to talk about it?" he said, blinking up at Jimin.

“I miss my mom,” Jimin said honestly, his voice cracking at the end. It was the first time he said it
out loud, and the tears were still flowing freely on his face, and it didn’t seem like they were going
to stop soon. Jeongguk looked away and sighed, wringing his hands, bouncing his feet. “Do y-
you?”

“Do I what?” Jeongguk said although Jimin knew he knew what he was talking about.

“Do you miss your mom?” Jimin didn’t miss the way Jeongguk grew tense at the question.

“I’m—I…I don’t know,” Jeongguk mumbled.

The answer was something Jimin didn’t expect, but it was honest and raw.

“I hate my father. He was the reason my mom died,” Jimin started, he didn’t know where he was
going with this or why he was even talking about it at all, but it was just so easy to let it all out
because it was Jeongguk. Someone he had met not long ago, but someone who he knew wouldn’t
judge him. “When my father told us he wanted to run for mayor, I was scared because I know what
could happen. I tried to convince him so many times not to do it because I knew the risks. No one’s
really anyone’s friend. Everyone was just there waiting for someone to fuck up or looking for
weaknesses that they could use against someone. But my father didn’t listen. He assured us nothing
was going to happen. He...was so sure of it. He said to just trust him.”

Jimin paused to take a breath, wiping hastily at his face.

“But then one day my mom drove me to school using my father’s car ‘cause her car was broken,
we w-were ambushed. S-She was shot in the head,” Jimin sobbed. “She died beside me and I
couldn’t even do anything. I wanted to scream for help but I passed out before I could even do that.
I... fuck.” His body racked with the force of his sobs. Jimin could remember that day as if it
happened yesterday. He could still recall how the light dwindled in his mom’s eyes. How her eyes
were open but she wasn’t breathing anymore. How she looked so normal but she was cold. She was
gone. “The police said it was an accident, they had mistaken her identity,” Jimin choked out and he
knew Jeongguk was smart enough to understand.

It was dark, the air that caressed their skins grew colder and Jimin shivered. Jeongguk scooted
closer, not close enough for their shoulders to touch but close enough to share his warmth with
Jimin.

Jeongguk was quiet for a long time before saying, “I...hate my father, too.”

After Jeongguk’s answer to Jimin's previous question, the statement didn’t surprise him anymore
but for some reason, it pained him. At least Jimin had loved his mom until the end.

Jeongguk didn’t talk like everyone else did. He didn’t try to tell Jimin it was going to be alright,
that it would pass and that time would heal everything and he was comforted by it. Jimin was tired
of all that false optimism.

“You’re unlike many people, you know that?” Jimin said.

“Why?” Jeongguk asked, blinking his eyes quickly.

“You didn’t tell me that everything will pass and time will heal everything.”

“There are things that even time can’t heal,” Jeongguk said somberly, voice distant. Jimin turned
his head to Jeongguk who brushed his hair away from his face and pointed at a slanted scar across
his forehead. The one he was hiding.

“I...Jeongguk—” Jimin was dumbfounded. He couldn’t possibly know what happened for a scar
that huge to stay on his forehead, but at that moment one thing was for sure: Jeongguk was strong
and resilient and he admired him for that. “Jeongguk…” he said, eyes wet.

For the second time that day, Jeongguk smiled at him —the kind of smile that made the corners of
his eyes crinkle and his nose scrunch up a little— “This is what my father left me with,” he said,
his tone light and joking. “What about you? Do you have something to remind you of your mom
when you miss her?”

That was probably the longest Jimin had heard him talk and he was amused. He felt warmth spread
in his chest.

Jimin rolled his sleeves up, excited to show Jeongguk.

“A watch?” Jeongguk asked, staring at the golden watch on Jimin’s wrist. Jimin couldn't help but
stare too. Stare at the way Jeongguk’s dark lashes fluttered and brushed over his soft cheeks, or the
way his pink lips parted in awe. Jimin was snapped out of his stupor when Jeongguk asked if his
mom gave it to him.

“Yeah. He told me a man should always have a watch, just like women with shoes,” he explained,
a fond smile on his face. And for the first time in a while it didn’t hurt too much remembering his
mother.

Jeongguk didn't say anything after that and Jimin didn't need him to, his presence alone was
comforting, like a hand around his shoulders or like pats on his head.

Maybe like his mother had been watching him and looking out for him all along.

"What's this?" Jeongguk frowned at Jimin, suspicious.

Jimin had been nervous about this all day. He had been contemplating on whether he should give
this to Jeongguk or not, but after battling with himself, he decided that he should. He wanted to. So
once the bell rang and everyone filtered out of the room, Jimin took the opportunity and handed
Jeongguk a plain brown box.

"Open it," he said, trying to appear calm, but he was picking on his nails behind his back.

Frowning, Jeongguk did. He pulled the lid of the box and a pair of white shoes met his eyes and
when his brain registered what it was, he briskly slammed the lid back and pushed the box to
Jimin.

"I don't want them," he snapped.

"Jeongguk—"

"You know I hate these things."

Jimin knew, he did. He knew Jeongguk hated when anyone gave him anything, he said he wasn't a
charity case.

"I do, but you need them," he emphasized by kicking at Jeongguk's shoes. The soles gave out, half
of them already separated from the footbed and there were holes on the back of the shoes. He had
asked Jeongguk if he had any plans on buying new ones, not to embarrass him or anything, but
because he couldn't imagine feeling comfortable with wearing such shoes. Jeongguk told him no,
he couldn't afford to buy new shoes, and Jimin, he had a lot of them. He had a lot that he didn't
wear. Jimin's size was smaller than Jeongguk's, but his father had bought him shoes that were
bigger than his size.

"I—"

"This isn't new, okay? Besides, I can't wear them 'cause they don't fit me. Just think of it this way,
you can wear them until you buy a new pair. Does that sound good?" Jimin tried his best to
convince Jeongguk as he was stubborn. He held the box out to Jeongguk, and waited with bated
breath, watching as Jeongguk chewed on his lips.

"Okay," Jeongguk finally said, and although still hesitant he grabbed the box. Jimin beamed.

Jeongguk tried the shoes on and they fit him perfectly, and Jimin was sure that his mouth was
about to get ripped from smiling too hard.

When the bell rang, Jimin quickly headed back to his seat but Jeongguk grabbed him by the wrist.
"Thank you," he said, cheeks dusted with pink.

The following week, Jeongguk shyly gave him a chick plushie. He was embarrassed, and he almost
threw the plushie away if Jimin hadn't caught him. Jeongguk said it was cheap and nothing special,
but if you ask Jimin, it was the best thing he had ever received.

Jeongguk fell asleep on his desk right after eating. They did a lot during P.E. today. Their teacher
asked them to do every activity mentioned in lesson 3 in teams and although everyone groaned,
they followed the instruction. Jimin remembered how Jeongguk glanced down as his shoulders
slumped. He probably thought no one was going to pick him in their teams, but well, he had
forgotten about Jimin. He wished he could capture in a photo the way Jeongguk's whole face lit up
when he heard Jimin call his name.

Jimin could still recall how happy Jeongguk was to be included and how much he enjoyed every
activity. He was still reserved and shy, but he did his best.

He slowly removed the tray of food under his arms, careful not to stir him awake, and he smiled
contently when he successfully did. After that, he seated himself on the chair beside Jeongguk, lied
down on the desk using his arms as pillows and watched as Jeongguk slept. He listened to
Jeongguk's steady breath, to the steady rise and fall of his chest. He smiled at the way his cheeks
were bunched up, his lips slightly parted, mole under his lower lip and his lashes resting on his
cheeks.

Jimin still couldn't completely understand what it was that he felt about Jeongguk and he was in no
rush. He knew he'd figure it all out with time.

One thing that was for sure was that Jeongguk was special to him.

Jeongguk had been so excited for today's P.E. activity but his stomach chose this exact day to
screw him up. His stomach hurt so much he felt nauseous. He took some meds and he was just
waiting for them to kick in. He insisted and told their teacher that he was okay, that he could do it,
but his teacher didn't budge so he was left alone in the classroom by himself. Jeongguk couldn't
even imagine being excited about anything related to school but here he was. He had been feeling
relatively better about everything lately, and he knew Jimin was a big part of this change. Jeongguk
wrote him a letter, and slipped it into his bag last week, too shy to say it out loud. He wondered if
Jimin had read it.

When his stomach stopped hurting, he fell asleep in an instant.

He woke up to the sound of loud chatter echoing in the room, everyone probably came back. He
lifted his head and rested them on his palms, still drowsy. He couldn't really hear what everyone
was talking about, their voice nothing but a ringing on his ears.

"....min's watch is missing." Jeongguk registered after a while. Whose watch was missing?
Jeongguk couldn't care less about a watch.

"Someone stole it. I know that for sure. It's a fucking Rolex," One of their classmates said, and all
of their heads turned to Jeongguk's direction and stared down at him. He felt fear crept up his
bones. He didn't like where this was going. Jeongguk rubbed his eyes roughly to remove any
drowsiness remaining in his system, and looked at them confused.

" Jimin's watch is missing ," Junghoon said with that predatory smile.

Jimin's watch? Jeongguk suddenly felt worried. He knew how important that was for him.

"W-What?" Jeongguk asked dumbly, searching the room for Jimin and when their eyes met,
Jeongguk didn't like what he saw in them.

"Are you deaf now, too? The fuck," Junghoon snapped, kicking Jeongguk's desk and making him
stumble backwards and hit his back against the wall. "Jimin's watch is missing. Did you steal it?"

"I d-didn't," he groaned in pain. He pushed himself up on his elbows onto his feet. He looked at
Jimin again but he wasn't looking at him, he was glancing down. "W-Why would I do that?"

"Jimin, where did you say you left your watch?"

Jimin hesitated before answering, "I'm pretty sure I put it on my desk before leaving for P.E. It
wasn't there when I came back."

"See, Jeon? You were the only person who was in this room when everyone left for P.E. What do
you think now? Still not going to admit it?"

"He wouldn’t do that. I don't think—" Jimin defended him and that was enough.

"How about we check everyone's bag just to make sure?" Junghoon cut him off. Jeongguk had no
idea why he was so adamant on this or what he was trying to prove but he didn't say anything as
they started searching the bags. He was confident, he hadn't stolen it.

When the watch still wasn't found and only his bag hadn't been searched, Jeongguk paled.
Junghoon shoved him in favor of having his space to search his bag. Jeongguk managed to keep
himself from falling. He looked at Jimin nervously.

"Aha!" Junghoon laughed, and in his hand was a golden watch. Jimin's watch. Jeongguk saw
Jimin's mouth go slack, and how his face hardened. Jeongguk took a step back. He had no idea
how it got there.

Jeongguk looked at Jimin, pleading. He needed Jimin to believe him. "I didn't...I didn't take it I
—"

But Jimin didn't spare him a glance. It was clear that he was upset.

"Ah, this would've been so much easier on you had you just admitted that you stole it. We all know
you're bound to do this anyway," he grinned, shaking the watch in front of his face.

"I did not steal it. This is a set up. You set this up," Jeongguk accused, glaring at him, and he knew
he was right. Who else would go this far just to break him?

"Aw, you're still not gonna admit it? Even when you've been caught? I guess that's how criminals
work, no?" Junghoon asked and turned to their classmates, shrugging his shoulders. Their
classmates laughed at his antics. Jeongguk fisted his hands.

"I have nothing to admit, I didn't steal it," Jeongguk stood his ground.

Jimin snatched the watch from Junghoon and the bully's face fell, the room fell silent and Jimin
stood in front of him, features still stiff. Jeongguk felt relief wash over him, looking at Jimin with
big eyes expectantly. He waited for Jimin to defend him, tell them Jeongguk didn't do it because
Jeongguk wasn't like that. Jeongguk was a good person. He certainly didn't expect the words that
came out of his mouth.

"After all that I've done for you, this is how you repay me?" Jimin scoffed. "Is this what you
learned from your mom? I guess it runs in the fucking blood," he sneered.

Jimin was the first person who talked to him and smiled at him after everything in his life went
upside down. He defended him and stopped the bullies from hurting him, he even treated his
wounds. He was the first person who treated him like he wasn't a son's thief. He made Jeongguk
feel normal. Like he belonged, too.

He had been different from everyone else, up until this moment.

Jeongguk felt pain spread through his chest, tears burning his eyes. He felt all the fight leaving his
body, and he let his head fall. He was suddenly so tired. His limbs felt like jelly, numb.

"It doesn't matter to me what they say because they don't know me, but you …you know me,"
Jeongguk trailed off, breath shuddering. He glanced up at Jimin although it pained him to even see
him right now. "I...I t-though you were different," his voice cracked, lips wobbling. "You're just
like everyone else. I am nothing but a thief's son to you."

Jeongguk didn't care that he was crying in front of everyone, didn't care that everyone could see
how vulnerable he was. Jeongguk felt so much hurt seep through his body he could literally feel
his chest caving in.

He saw a flicker of regret in Jimin's face as his features softened but he didn't say anything else.

Jeongguk wiped his tears with the back of his hand, grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder
and headed for the door. When Jimin didn't run after him, it just proved to him once more that
Jimin didn't care as much as Jeongguk thought he would.

Jimin was still heavily distraught at what had occured the other day. He wanted to defend
Jeongguk, but how could he when his watch was found inside his bag? Jeongguk knew how
important the watch was to him, he had told him, bared his heart to him but he still stole it. Jimin
was blinded with a rage he didn't know was possible when he saw the watch from his bag that he
carelessly spat such depreciating words. His mom’s watch was just a really sore spot for him, and
the moment he saw it in Junghoon’s hand, pictures of his mom came back to him and all those dark
memories made him become irrational and hurtful.

He was mad at Jeongguk for doing what he did when Jimin did nothing but trust him, but some
part of him was screaming at him to go back to his senses and trust that Jeongguk didn't do it. He
would never do it.

Jimin gripped his hair with his hands, and pulled on it hard, already heavily regretting his actions.
The minute Jeongguk walked out of the classroom he wanted to go after him, but he felt so drained
inside. This whole thing was killing him.

When Jeongguk didn't show up the next day in class, everyone acted as if he was some kind of
virus that they finally got rid of, except Jimin who was a bit worried but tried not to be affected by
it. Jeongguk was probably embarrassed with what happened. He'd come around.
Jeongguk hadn't eaten in six days. He hadn't got up from his bed except for when he had to go to
the bathroom and drink water. Even then, he thought doing those were useless. He hadn't showered
and he reeked. He hadn't gone to school since the incident. No one probably even noticed he was
gone nor did anyone feel sad about his absence. Jimin's words kept ringing in his head, like a knife
twisted in his chest.

Is that what you learned from your mom?

I guess it runs in the fucking blood.

Jeongguk let the tears cascade down his face, and let the pain slowly consume him.

This, too, was one of things that time wouldn't be able to heal.

As he stepped on the chair in his room, and as he breathed his last breath, he wished that maybe in
another life Jimin and he could be happy.

When Jeongguk still didn't come back after a week, Jimin could no longer stop himself from being
worried sick.

This voice in his head kept telling him something horrible had happened but he refused to listen to
it.

Jimin was rummaging through his bag, looking for his goddamn pen. He didn't know where he put
it again and his bag was a mess. In the middle of his aggressive searching, a paper came flying out
of his bag. Curious as to what it was, Jimin got up from his chair and picked up the piece of paper.
Jimin's heart stopped when he recognized the handwriting.

I hate going to school. I'm only forced to 'cos my Mama wants me to go. I hate it because everyone
hates me, but you don't. You make things bearable, and you make me want to live.

Jimin read the letter several times, letting the words sink in. Knowing Jeongguk, it probably took
him a lot of time to write this even though it was short. It was clear that he struggled with what he
wanted to say as there were a lot of erasures and scribbles on the paper. Why did he only see this
now? When did Jeongguk write this?

By the time he stopped reading it, his vision was blurry with tears, his heart pounding in his chest
and his ears were ringing.

You make me want to live.

Something clicked in Jimin's head and he stood up abruptly, barely able to catch himself from
falling.

Jeongguk .

Before he could move from his place, the bell rang and everyone went back to their seats. Cheon-
ssaem wasn't supposed to be here, they didn't have any classes with him today, unless he had
something important to tell them. Dread filled Jimin.

"I have something important to tell everyone," Cheon-ssaem began, and for some reason, he
actually looked...sad. Please, please. "One of your classmates, Jeon Jeongguk, has passed away."

Jimin's head snapped up so hard he nearly heard his neck crack, mouth falling open in shock, and
before he knew it, tears fell down his face.

He could hear his classmates' gasps, their shock, and their murmurs as if they fucking cared, but at
the same time, he couldn't hear anything but the ringing in his head.

"He died two days ago but he was found by the police unconscious in his, uh, apartment just today.
Apparently he...commited suicide," Cheon-ssaem looked down, looking guilty even though he
hadn't been the one who took away Jeongguk's life. No one in the room spoke, everyone was
mummed, not even Junghoon talked and he had the nerve to look shocked and horrified.

One second Jimin was crying, the next he was overcome with a blinding rage. He wasn't sure how
it happened, but he found himself sitting on top of Junghoon, his collar fisted in his hands, and he
was punching at his face incessantly. Blood. Blood everywhere.

He should've known it was a set up. He should've known Junghoon set Jeongguk up. He should've
believed Jeongguk. His precious Jeongguk.

Jimin could hear everyone's shout at him to stop , could feel hands trying to pull him away from
Junghoon because for fuck's sake, he was no longer conscious. But Jimin couldn't care less. He
punched and punched, pushed everyone who tried to stop him, until he was tired.

He got off Junghoon and went to the school office and hastily searched for Jeongguk's file. He
needed to go to Jeongguk's house, make sure he was okay. He was okay. Everyone was just playing
a dumb prank on him. This was another set up. When he found his address, he ran out of the school
and hailed a cab and gave the address.

Jimin's knees buckled when he saw barricade tapes all around the place, and he cried in his arms.
The landlord saw him, told him how nice of a kid Jeongguk was, and he probably felt pity for him
so he told him where Jeongguk's wake was being held.

Dead. Wake. Jeongguk. Was.

Those words just seemed so wrong. Why was everyone so serious? Why was everyone acting as if
Jeongguk was gone? He wasn't. This was probably his punishment for hurting him. Despite this, he
hailed another cab to the funeral address.

Jimin forced his feet to move, as they were stuck in one place. He dragged himself inside. There
was no one inside, but there were signs that people went by. Bottles of alcohol on top of the tables,
leftover food, crumpled mats. Jimin didn't want to come any closer. He was afraid that everything
was real, that Jeongguk was really gone. However, he forced himself. A photo of Jeongguk in a
school uniform that Jimin didn't recognize was on top of the casket. He looked young there,
younger than he was right now. His cheeks were chubbier and he looked healthier, skin glowing,
eyes shining with his youth.

And then he saw Jeongguk.

He looked so normal, just like any moment right now, he'd wake up and smile at him and tell him
this was all a sick joke. He looked like he usually did when he was asleep in class. Jeongguk still
had the mole under his lower lip, and his lashes were resting above the softness of his cheeks.
Everything looked normal yet so eerily haunting. He looked like how his mother did. Cold. He
looked at Jeongguk and knew he was never coming back.

Jimin heard Jeongguk's words in his head.

You know me.

I thought you were different.

You're just like everyone else.

And then his words.

Is that what you learned from your mom?

I guess it runs in the fucking blood.

Jimin wished he could take them back. His words were harsh and so fucking rude and degrading.
He couldn't even imagine how painful it must've been to hear that from someone who was
supposed to be his friend. It was his fault. He pushed Jeongguk over the edge.

He...he killed Jeongguk.

"I-I'm...I'm s-sorry…so sorry…" Jimin sobbed, hugging Jeongguk's casket, wishing he could hold
him one last time. "P-Please c-come back now….please. This is not funny. I'm sorry I-I trust you. I
k-know—I know you didn't steal my watch I know you wouldn't do that. I— Jeongguk... please.
Come back to m-me." Jimin was drooling on the glass of his casket, and he was wetting it with
tears and snot but he couldn't care less. He wanted his Jeongguk back.

I thought you were different.

"I'm sorry I was so fucking rude, s-so fucking mean. I was wrong. It was m-my fault. I'm s-
sorry...please. It's okay if you hate me now...j-just...just come back, okay?" Sorry for disappointing
you...s-sorry for hurting you. Please c-come back…"

Jimin had no idea how long he was like that, but when he woke up, he was in the comfort of his
bed. He cradled his head when a pain shot up through it and groaned.

Apparently, he passed out in the funeral and had to be taken home. Their helper said he needed to
drink lots of water and made sure he ate, but he didn't think he deserved that so he just drank some
water, got dressed and went back to Jeongguk.

Some part of him was still hoping he would wake up from this nightmare, but he knew this was
nothing but reality.

Jeongguk's mom wasn't allowed to attend the funeral, but she had been permitted to attend his son's
burial so throughout the wake, Jimin stayed by Jeongguk's side. He didn't want Jeongguk to ever
feel alone again. He told him stories that didn't really matter but he knew Jeongguk would
appreciate it, crying every single time. Jeongguk was quiet and didn't respond when Jimin talked to
him, like this, he could pretend that Jeongguk was listening to him.

Sometimes when needed, he'd assist those who visited his wake but he didn't always have to. Not
many came, and Jimin couldn't help but feel bitter about it. Jeongguk was such an amazing person.
But then again, wasn't he the reason why Jeongguk killed himself?

On Jeongguk's burial, he had accepted everything as the truth. Jeongguk was gone. He stood side
by side with Jeongguk's mother, no words spoken between them, just shared pain.
 "Don't you think this is a bit unfair?" Jimin sniffled, alone after Jeongguk's mom left. "Don't you
think you're taking this too far?" he smiled, teasing Jeongguk, but it didn't reach his eyes. "How am
I supposed to live w-without y-you, dummy…" Jimin's voice cracked, and he sobbed in his hands,
unable to hold it in.

As he sat by Jeongguk's vault, hours after he had been buried, he couldn't help but think of what
Jeongguk said.

There are things that even time can’t heal.

Jimin had lost Jeongguk in the same time it usually took a wishing star to pass by the Earth. And if
Jimin thought about it, that’s what Jeongguk had been to him, his wishing star. He had shone so
brightly ever since the moment Jimin first saw him and up until the very end, and although time
between them had been so limited and so short, he would forever remember him as the doe-eyed
boy, with rough hands hidden under a blue, plaid, worn out shirt and shoes that were falling apart.
Jimin would always remember him as the boy with the strongest heart anyone could ever have.

Chapter End Notes

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