yoongi does, indeed, go blonde.

it’s a long process, but it’s worth it. his coworkers have no idea what to do with him, figuring him to be a boring guy going for the typical colors; when he comes in with blonde hair next monday, his pierced ears and steady glare suddenly seem to make more of an impression.

jungkook likes it, if the way he fingers strands of yoongi’s hair in the morning when he thinks his husband is asleep says anything. hayoung still recognizes him. she likes pulling on his earring and going “oooaaah” over his light bangs.

the 5EVER boys comment endlessly on how he looks like an idol: hyung, oh my god! are you really thirty? you could still pass for twenty five!

yoongi tells them all to can it and stuff their insincere flattery in their small pockets.

“it’s not insincere, hyung,” one of the members, hyuk, says. ilhoon and woohyun are in the back, sharing twin smiles. privately, yoongi’s glad that whatever went down between them is done and over now.

“you do look kind of pale, though,” ilhoon comments. “and grumpy.”

yoongi’s eye twitches. “what did you say about me, brat? i’m still your teacher!”

ilhoon makes a sound like a squeak and jerks backward underneath woohyun’s arm around him, so he won’t get caught by yoongi lunging for him. quick as a dart, he escapes by running around to the other side of the room. yoongi curses loudly and the boys all laugh.

/

when he pulls up on his street, yoongi finds that he can’t park his car. there’s a bunch of other cars blocking the entrance, and yoongi sighs to himself, his head hitting the steering wheel. two police cars are stuffed in the small road, but it’s enough for yoongi to be unable to get through. he wonders if life is always going to be like this. he parks his car on the next street instead.

walking past the police cars with their lights still on, he barely notices when someone taps him on the shoulder. yoongi turns around when he finally feels it, jerking away from the policeman who has on a clean, composed face.

“excuse me, sir, but do you live here?” he asks, staring as if he’s not sure why there’s a strange man just hanging outside of the apartment building instead of asking about what’s wrong. yoongi’s just trying to figure out for himself if someone’s gotten murdered, kidnapped, or robbed - and if he needs to move out to a safer part of town.

“yes, i do,” he shows them his id, and they look up his id number. with a satisfied nod, the policeman lets him go inside, saying after him, “there might be officers that will stop you upstairs to question you, sir, i hope you don’t mind.”

yoongi huffs; he minds, alright, but it’s not like he’ll be able to do anything about it.

he hopes that there are no officers all the way up to his own floor, because god does he not want to talk to anyone, and he gets pretty lucky - right up until he heads to his own floor, where there’s four police officers hanging around. of course there would be. of course this happens - this is yoongi’s ing luck.

he shoulders his work bag and sighs, stuffing his hands in his pockets. at the end of the hall, he spies a familiar head of dark hair and hayoung’s empty pram.

yoongi frowns and hurries, worry growing in him quickly. it’s only when he gets close that he gets to hear the end of a familiar voice. “ - been outside, and this student has been with me the entire time, too. he helped me take my groceries up,” jungkook says, holding hayoung in his arms. she’s playing with a shiny police badge, running over it with amazed fingers, showing it to jungkook every couple of seconds. “i’m sorry officer, i haven’t seen mrs. im’s daughter since last week.”

“around when, would you say?”

jungkook shifts, and from behind him, yoongi spots eunbyul also talking to an officer. he looks bothered, scowling as he’s talking.

“last friday, before i went to work, i think.”

yoongi steps a bit more forward and jungkook catches sight of him. yoongi raises an eyebrow. what’s going on? jungkook shrugs helplessly.

the officer looks up from where he’s writing on his notepad. “anyone else with you? your wife?”

“my husband,” jungkook corrects, “he’s right over there, actually. can i go inside my house, now?”

the officer sighs. “yes, thank you, jeon-ssi. i’m sorry for the inconvenience.”

“no problem,” jungkook replies, but he’s too busy wrangling the shiny badge out of hayoung’s hands to really pay attention. “hana, that’s not yours. come on.” she relinquishes eventually, but not without letting out a wail about how displeased she is.

jungkook looks at the pram, which is a bit ways away from where yoongi is standing. there are grocery bags at his feet. yoongi grabs onto the stroller and kicks at it’s folding clasp, letting jungkook know that he’ll take care of it. jungkook takes one bag and eunbyul comes up behind him to take the other, pulling the corner of his stuffy black collar up. yoongi has never met a kid like eunbyul before, seriously.

when the same officer that interrogated jungkook comes to him, yoongi questions first, sharp and quick, “what’s this all about? what happened to im yeonha?”

the officer grimaces, having been beaten to the chase. a woman strolls next to him, emerging out of mrs. im’s apartment, and stands next to the male officer.

“i’m officer kim,” he offers first. “we’re here because im yeonha has been missing for three days now; would you have happened to see miss im at any time in the past three days, sir?”

yoongi frowns, disliking this guy’s tone. he sounds too...accusing. “no, i haven’t. i’ve been at work pretty much from sunrise to sunset, and then i’ve been home for most of any time after that.”

“can that be verified?”

“you bet your it can,” yoongi shifts, glaring. “listen, can i go to my apartment now?”

“sorry about this, mister...?” the female officer cuts in, and yoongi gives his name. “min-ssi. we’re just trying to figure all of this out. no one has seen im yeonha since sunday night. the last person to have talked to her was her mother. none of her friends have heard from her, and she hasn’t been in school. we’re just trying to keep a little girl safe. is there any information you could tell us? if you’ve seen a suspicious person around her, at any point?”

yoongi softens. he remembers im yeonha; remembers her while she was starting out high school, how she’d wait at the bus stop and yoongi would see her everyday, standing there, rain or shine for her bus. he’d always pass by while going to his car, and yeonha would give him a nod or a hello in the morning, depending on the day.

he racks his mind for anything he can think of; vaguely, he remembers an awkward five minutes, around a week back, of when yeonha spat poisonous words and ran away in tears. he remembers red marks on her wrist.

yoongi reaches up to scratch the back of his neck. “i don’t know if this will be much help,” he admits, “but around a week ago or so, yeonha and her mom were fighting outside of their apartment. i had just come from work, so it was around this time. she was upset at her - screaming at her - and her mom was holding on to her wrist so tightly that i think it left a bruise. i’m not sure, but i don’t think that they had a very good relationship.”

officer kim and his female partner share a look. “that matches with what your other neighbor, kwon eunbyul, said,” the female officer says. “he stated that he often heard screaming matches in the middle of the night, after the mom came home, from his apartment.”

“yeah, sounds about right. they fought about her school matters, mostly, but that’s only from what i heard,” he sighs. “can i go, please?”

“of course, min-ssi,” officer kim steps aside. he offers a sheepish little smile. “sorry for the trouble. your daughter is adorable, by the way.”

yoongi snorts. “thanks. good night, officers.”

he takes the folded pram with him, passing by mrs. im’s ominously closed door and opening the unlocked one to his own. he closes it and relocks it with the keycode, just in case, setting the pram beside the wall.

hayoung’s been put on the floor in her walker, where she’s walking around continuously with the contraption around her. when she sees yoongi, she jumps up and down in one place and rolls right toward him, her hands raised wide.

“hello, baby girl,” yoongi croons, kissing her on the forehead. hayoung makes a string of sounds that sound like an attempt in speaking korean, yet not quite there. he looks at her hair and runs a hand through the strands, wondering if they should cut it. he spots eunbyul’s backpack on the sofa and refrains from saying anything.

the kid is sitting in the kitchen, still looking awkward and stiff. his pants are pressed and his shirts are buttoned to the neck. jungkook is putting away everything in the fridge and the cabinets.

“yoongi, you’re here,” jungkook hands him a whole package of seasonings as a welcome home. “put that in the far left drawer, please, everything else i need to put here.”

“i just came home,” yoongi grumbles.

eunbyul gets up, offering, “i’ll do it?”

yoongi scoffs. “you sit there, kid, i got it.” with a little more petulance than needed, yoongi puts the seasonings where they belong and walks until he’s behind jungkook, who’s opening up a package of mackerel. he holds the back of jungkook’s neck and brings him in for a kiss on the cheek. hayoung is following after him like a little duckling, the walker preventing her from hitting any sharp edges.

“yeah, baby, you having fun?”

hayoung nods her approval. she waves five fingers in an impression of a wave, and yoongi can’t help but smile at her; she returns it, four teeth on display.

“i’m so tired,” jungkook sighs, rubbing at his elbow. “i’m getting too old.”

“you’re twenty five,” yoongi states incredulously.

“already too old. look at you, your hair is already all white.”

reaching over, he puts down the mackerel packet in jungkook’s arms. “hey, we can just order out today,” he says soothingly, hand between jungkook’s shoulder blades. “c’mon, it’s not a big deal.”

“how would they get in with all the officers, huh?” jungkook retorts. “they’re still looking for the girl next door.”

ah, so that’s what’s bothering him. “don’t worry about that, delivery guys are practically invincible.” yoongi takes note of eunbyul, who is still sitting at near the kitchen island, unsure of what to do. he asks him, “what do you think about pizza? actual take-out pizza, none of that handmade stuff that they probably served you at home - just good old fat, grease, and cheese?”

“stop tempting me,” jungkook groans.

“uh,” eunbyul says.

“i’m ordering out,” yoongi says firmly, pulling jungkook’s hands away from the kitchen counter. his fingers end up over the smooth edge of jungkook’s wedding ring. nails catching on the soft skin there. jungkook tenses up at the movement, so he lazily does it again.

“i think i should go,” eunbyul says suddenly, grimacing. he looks like he’s just seen - well, like he’s just seen his parents do something gross in front of him.

“no, stay,” jungkook argues, “you helped me bring everything up, it’s the least i could do.”

“i just felt bad,” the college kid says underneath his breath, but he sits back down. “i mean...you see someone with a kid, and they’re struggling, you just have to help them, i guess.”

yoongi rolls his eyes. eunbyul has had dinner with them a total of three times so far, and each time he gets less and less awkward, less like an arrogant chaebol and more like a lost kid. yoongi doesn’t have the heart in him to be so prickly around him anymore, even after their rocky start. besides; if jungkook likes him, he’s okay by yoongi.

“hush and don’t argue,” yoongi says as he’s tapping out the number for their favorite pizza place. “just enjoy the free food.”

“it’s not like we finish it, yoongi,” jungkook’s voice pipes up from where he’s gone into the fridge to get hayoung’s food. “there’s always leftovers for tomorrow, so thank you, eunbyul - you really help me out by finishing everything.”

“you’re welcome?” he says, looking confused.

yoongi asks for any allergies, and when there are none, he quickly puts in his order for two pies and a large bottle of coke; veggie toppings on one because jungkook likes veggie toppings (for some odd reason) and meat on the other.

“you know,” jungkook’s feeding hayoung now, following after her as she totters around, “if you want, you can take some leftovers next time, eunbyul-ah. bring it to school or something.”

“it’s okay,” eunbyul rushes to say. “i usually buy food at school, and...it wouldn’t really taste the same.”

jungkook’s mouth twitches upward, catching on to what eunbyul isn’t saying. “i guess it wouldn’t, huh?”

yoongi excuses himself for a moment to go change in the bedroom. he feels a sense of relief wash over him as he changes out of his work clothes. even though they have a pretty lenient dress code at the company, he still feels tired if he isn’t at home where he can stretch out and not be judged (well, not judged too harshly) by anyone.

as soon as he gets back to the living room, he sees jungkook and eunbyul talking to each other amiably on the kitchen island. yoongi catches a bit of what they’re saying - it’s a slight argument between what is better: acrylic or oil paint. all the while, jungkook is spooning hayoung’s dinner in . she’s gone from sitting in her walker to sitting in her high chair, a bowl of this morning’s rice in front of her. just as she did before, she takes out a piece of rice and offers it to eunbyul. the small grains of rice look comically small in between his fingers, but he still thanks her with a straight face.

yoongi heads over and kisses jungkook on the cheek, just to breathe in his familiar scent. he does the same for hayoung, except on her lips, face screwing up when he gets some of her food in his mouth.

“that’s what you get,” jungkook says unsympathetically, spooning another mouthful in. “don’t bother me while i’m feeding her.”

yoongi rests his head against jungkook’s. “pay attention to me.”

“i’ve been paying attention to you for years, let me take a break,” jungkook replies wryly.

“this is so weird to see,” eunbyul comments. “ahjussi, you’re weird.”

yoongi points a finger at him. “my house, my husband, my rights.” hayoung copies him and points a finger at eunbyul.

“that’s oppa,” jungkook clarifies, saying it slowly so hayoung can follow. “say oppa.”

“oppa,” hayoung copies, still pointing at eunbyul. for his part, eunbyul looks like he’s sort of melting from the cuteness inside, yet he’s trying so hard not to let it show. yoongi feels for him, just for that moment: he knows what that’s like.

“that’s my good girl,” jungkook beams, just as the doorbell rings. “oh, you better get that. use your credit card, yoongi.”

“you don’t have any won on you?” yoongi groans.

“i used it for groceries,” jungkook points out, “which i was going to make into something, but then you came in and decided that no, we needtakeout, so you can use your credit card.”

“i did it for you,” yoongi says, faux betrayal in his voice.

“i could pay for it,” eunbyul offers. when both jungkook and yoongi turn a disapproving look at him, he attempts to explain. “i mean...you guys already gave me dinner a couple of times, it’s the least i can do.”

“save your money for college, kid,” yoongi scolds. jungkook agrees with him, despite the fact that they both know that eunbyul probably has more money than he knows what to do with. “freaking waving around your money nowadays...kids. let the adults do the buying, you just sit there and eat.”

“i’m an adult too,” he mutters, but is promptly ignored.

yoongi goes searching for his wallet in his coat pocket to pay for the food. when he’s done, the pizzas are steaming and warm in his hand. he sets them down on the island counter. hayoung’s done with her dinner; her little face is clean, bowl taken away, and she’s less grouchy than before. yoongi ends up eating three slices by himself before taking his daughter out of her high chair of fun and happiness (jungkook left her toys there for her to keep herself busy) and moving them both to the couch.

“min yoongi,” jungkook warns, but yoongi waves him aside.

“it’s just a little nap,” he says, rubbing his nose against hayoung’s. she laughs. he settles himself down with a groan of content on the couch, hayoung a familiar weight on top of his chest. he’s going to mourn the day when she gets too heavy for this. for now, she squirms in place and picks at the strings of his hoodie. he can hear every slight catch of her breath.

“you’re going to get stomach cramps,” jungkook tells him from the kitchen. “yoongi, are you listening to me?”

“i don’t have work tomorrow anyway,” yoongi yawns. “g’night everyone.”

“god help me,” is all jungkook says.

/

around two days later, around friday in the evening, yeonha is still missing. he hears more than sees mrs. im, crying in the night, praying and begging for someone to bring her daughter back. her face is sallow and haggard when yoongi next sees her; she barely talks to him...or to anyone, for that matter.

the fact of the matter is, despite being the one to sort of push away her daughter, she’s suffering too. yoongi sighs and just hopes somewhere in him that they’ll be okay.

it’s around noon time when he goes out to buy some things they’re low on, again - less than food this time and more toiletries. they’re out of shampoo and paper towels and jungkook has been writing passive aggressive notes at him in the morning to remember to buy toothpaste and new frying pans. so yoongi figures that today is as good as any day and settles his daughter up in the car seat, loads her pram in the trunk, and heads over to one of the bigger korean marts on the other side of town.

he’s not looking forward to it; he’s heard of hayoung’s activities in grocery stores. he’s only ever seen it when he’s with jungkook, and with the both of them it’s easier - he can stand by and watch hayoung’s tiny fingers while jungkook gets what they need. now he’s by himself. he doesn’t remember the last time he went shopping by himself with hayoung - it may have been when she was still a baby and didn’t know how to throw a temper tantrum.

thankfully, she starts out the trip by not being too hard to handle; she gets amazed at the toys for sale, their plastic surfaces tempting her into want. yoongi passes it by swiftly and heads straight for the bathroom supplies. that’s when he notices a familiar backpack in the food section.

yoongi backtracks and blinks twice; it’s yeonha, who’s staring down at two packets of ramen. one’s a better, more filling brand, but the other in her hand is cheaper.

she eventually puts the down the more expensive brand and then takes out a bit of money from her hand, counting it through, and that’s when it registers: this is yeonha.

she doesn’t look too bad; she’s got warm clothes and seems clean, but she also looks obviously upset. yoongi doesn’t take a moment to think about, only heads straight in her direction.

“hey,” he calls out gently, gathering her attention at first, “im yeonha, right?”

she startles. thankfully, she doesn’t run away, because she recognizes him. she looks at his daughter in shock, taking a step back as if he’ll cuff her. “ahjussi?”

yoongi raises both his hands briefly. “hi. i’m here to just pick up a couple of things. everyone’s been looking for you though, yeonha. where have you been?”

she presses her lips together, not wanting to say anything. she bows and then turns away, going, “it’s nice to see you, min-ssi,” not a single word passing her lips any part genuine.

“hey, hey,” yoongi says again, this time urgent. yeonha stops, too used to that voice from people older than her and with more authority to do anything but really follow it. “listen - i’m not going to tell the police that i found you, okay?” she looks up at him dubiously. “i won’t tell your mom either. c’mere, i’ll pay for a meal. what do you like to eat?”

she can’t say that she’s been told not to go with strange men, because yoongi and jungkook have babysitted her twice while her mother was out. she knows them, at least distantly.

“i’d feel bad, ahjussi,” she says. her wrists are thinner. her face looks gaunt.

“if i can pay for these overpriced things, i can pay for a meal,” yoongi says wryly. “there’s a mandu shop right nearby. tell you what - you watch over hayoung for me in the cart, and we’ll call it even, alright?”

after a moment, yeonha nods. she stuffs her money in her pocket and shuffles over to where yoongi is, head bowed. he tells her to stand outside the aisle so he can get what he needs from inside, and to just make sure that hayoung isn’t touching anything on the shelves.

“i’ll be back in ten minutes, tops,” he assures her. yeonha mumbles an ‘okay’.

for a second he’s a little worried when he leaves. she might make a run for it, some part of yoongi whispers, she might just turn her back and go. yoongi has a feeling that if that happened, he would never see her again.

ten minutes later, his arms are filled with everything he needs. he heads back to the cart and it’s right where he’s left it, both girls accounted for.

hayoung is holding on to yeonha’s pinky finger, waving it up and down. yeonha is smiling slightly, pushing a lock of her hair behind her ear so that it doesn’t cover her face anymore. yoongi heaves the things in his arms into the cart. “that’s pretty much it,” he starts to push the cart. “thanks.”

“i barely did anything,” she says quietly, but yoongi doesn’t answer. she’s relieved him of a headache.

he leaves all of the shopping in the trunk of the car, exchanging hayoung from her cart to her pram. she giggles up at him as he does so, kicking at his jaw, finding it fun.

“this kid,” yoongi sighs. he turns and motions for yeonha to follow him. “it’s nearby here. me and jungkook come here sometimes for lunch if we’re hungry. how do you like yours?”

“fried,” yeonha admits, and yoongi grins. “so do i. here it is.”

they head into a tiny shop. yoongi takes hayoung and settles her in his lap so that she won’t fall or reach over the side of her pram and accidentally fall. hayoung immediately starts pointing out things, showing them to her dad, and yoongi nods absentmindedly. eventually she takes a napkin and chews on it in content.

“uh, ahjussi...” yeonha points to hayoung, happily chewing away.

“yeah,” yoongi bounces her in his lap. “she’s still teething a little. just let her do that. order two of whatever you want, okay?”

thankfully yeonha doesn’t argue or try to say that she doesn’t want to. instead she slumps back in her chair and sighs. he can see the tenseness in her shoulders, and when she starts crying, it comes as no surprise.

he hands her a tissue wordlessly. “sorry,” she says, voice choked with tears. “sorry, ahjussi.”

yoongi waits a minute so she can collect herself. then, as gently as possible, he tells her, “after this i’m going to take you home, okay?”

she waits until the waiter comes back with their plate of mandu, before nodding.

/

“oh god,” jungkook sighs, when he sees that yoongi’s opened the extra linen closet. hayoung is taking a nap in her playpen, tired out from playing most of the evening. jungkook comes in with his coat strewn over his shoulders. he takes off his shoes at the entrance of their apartment.

the next thing he sees after the open linen closet - placed conveniently near the door - is a girl sleeping on their couch. a closer look shows that it’s yeonha. it’s barely seven o’clock.

“i saw her at the mart,” yoongi tells him quietly, taking his coat and putting it away as jungkook sets his back away. “i didn’t know what else to do; she didn’t want to go home, so i brought her here.”

“yoongi, if mrs. im saw her here,” jungkook starts, letting the sentence hang. yoongi knows just exactly what would happen if mrs. im sees her here. mrs. im is in no state of mind to think of anything else right now except the worst. her daughter, found in her neighbor’s house, after being missing for five days.

“she’s been sleeping at a homeless shelter for the last few days,” yoongi tells him, recounting their conversation over the second half of their lunch. “no one’s recognized her, because she’s been in a different part of town all together. she’s been using money she’s saved up before to buy food.”

jungkook gazes down at the girl on the couch, and sighs. he can read in between the lines. “she’s planned this out, huh?”

“i think it’s more of a contingency plan,” yoongi pushes a bowl of warm rice jungkook’s way. there’s leftover food in the microwave, warming up. “you know, if their fighting every came to this. which it did.”

jungkook says nothing, only picks up his chopsticks and moves around some of his rice with it.

“i’m sorry,” yoongi sighs, “i should have texted you and i didn’t.”

“that’s not what i’m worried about,” jungkook brushes aside his bangs. the microwave beeps to completion; the smell of food permeates the air. “mrs. im looks so much worse now, yoongi. she’s been standing outside the police office begging for them to find her daughter, but they’ve got swept up in some other case. yeonha is 18, so they technically can’t do anything about it anymore.”

“one night,” yoongi breathes, pressing a kiss against jungkook’s hair. “give her one night. she obviously hasn’t been sleeping well.”

jungkook nods. he leans back so that his head is on yoongi’s shoulder. when he looks up, his nose brushes yoongi’s jaw. “how has your day been?”

“stressful,” the blond answers truthfully. “you?”

“tiring,” jungkook admits. “i kind of want to just stay home all the time, y’know?”

“yeah,” yoongi knows that probably too well. “but i also know that you would go stir crazy if you were a complete stay-at-home dad.”

he sets jungkook upright so he can eat his dinner in peace, heading for hayoung, who has woken up from her nap. she sees jungkook and immediately stands up, crying out for “dada”. yoongi brings her close by and sets her on the island counter so she can kiss jungkook a welcome home. she coos softly at him, wiping her hand down his cheek, and he laughs.

none of them notice yeonha on the couch, watching them with watery eyes, before turning around so she doesn’t have to face what she doesn’t have.