Thank you for reading <3 

       Namjoon regretfully bid Yoongi goodbye as he reached the History classroom. Both boys had showed up early to school despite being tired as hell, just to rehash the night before. It was the first time Namjoon had actually seen the other boy before noon. Yoongi still complained about the cold air and bright sky and was double- coffees, but they both chatted happily about their successful rap duo debut between smiling yawns. Namjoon felt it was going to be hard to concentrate in class today; he was flooded with inspiration and just wanted to write lyrics. His head was full of ideas for things he and Yoongi could do together. 
     Distracted, it took a moment for Namjoon to notice that the desk beside his was empty; usually Hoseok sat beside him in History class. Probably partied too hard last night at Jin’s, he thought with amusement. He wondered what state the rest of the boys were in.
    The teacher was laying out sheets on the projector when there was a loud crackle and the intercom buzzed to life. The students all perked their ears - it was too early for the daily announcements, which usually came during the second block. A cool female voice spoke fuzzily over the speakers. 
    “Attention. Could Min Yoongi please come to the principal’s office. That is Min Yoongi, Class 3 to the office. Thank you.” 
    The fuzzing cut off abruptly, leaving the classroom in silence for a moment.  Then chattering rose like a small wave, whispers and speculations already starting to rush through students, but the History teacher coughed loudly. “Alright now, let’s get back to the lesson!”
    The class quieted quickly and went back to note-taking, but little whispers still prickled at the silence. Namjoon stared down at his blank piece of paper, frowning. What was that about? He hoped Yoongi wasn’t in any trouble. But being called to the office usually wasn’t a good thing. And to think, on the only day the boy had actually showed up to school on time.
    
    “Attention. Could Min Yoongi please come to the principal’s office. That is Min Yoongi, Class 3 to the office. Thank you.”
    Yoongi lifted his head off his desk and stared at the speaker above the blackboard, wondering if he had heard right. He was more than half-asleep after all. However, judging by the fact that the entire classroom including the teacher had turned to look at him, there could be no mistaking it. Sighing grumpily, Yoongi pulled himself out of his chair slowly while grasping both coffees and shoving his books under his arm. Wordlessly, he dragged his feet out of the class, ignoring the stares as he left. 
    What the hell did they want him for? He wondered, more grumpy than curious. Teach him to show up to class on time. Maybe they’re just in shock and want to see if I’m actually here at all, he thought, a silent laugh vibrating deep in his tired chest.
    Yoongi’s mirth was quickly extinguished when he reached the office and saw his parents standing outside. Instantly the teenager felt awake. “Hey,” he started slowly, eyebrows shooting up as he stared at them. “What’s -?”
    The principal appeared suddenly and cut him off. “Min Yoongi.” His tone was cold and severe. He opened the door to his inner office, looking to Yoongi’s parents. “Would you please come in?” he asked them politely, in a much calmer tone.
    Yoongi tried to catch his parents’ eyes, but they both ignored him as they entered the office. He followed after, completely nonplussed. What the hell was going on?
    When all four of them were seated, the principal behind his desk and Yoongi and his parents sitting in front of it, the man spoke.
        “Min Yoongi.” The principal’s eyes were cold as he regarded the boy. “I have brought you and your parents here  because there has been an incident involving one of our students.”
    Yoongi just sat and listened, waiting for more. Then the principal asked him an unexpected question out of the blue.
    “I believe you know Jung Hoseok?”
    He raised his eyebrows, but nodded slowly. “Yeah, I know him.”
    “What would you say your relationship is with him?”
    The mint-haired boy was feeling more confused by the second. “Relationship? I wouldn’t say we have a relationship…”
        “Are you aware that Jung Hoseok was found early this morning and taken to the hospital with grievous injuries to his body, including a broken leg?”
    Yoongi’s mouth dropped open in shock. “What?!” 
    “Jung Hoseok was admitted to the Seoul General Hospital with serious head injuries, multiple lacerations on his face and body, and broken bones including ribs and his left leg. All evidence points to these injuries being the result of a particularly violent and intentional beating of the boy.”
    Yoongi just gaped, mind working in slow motion. Who would beat up Hoseok? He wasn’t exactly unpopular. Had he said a broken leg? “Oh man, that is bad. I don’t know what happened, I’m not really friends with him. But Kim Seokjin or Kim Namjoon -”
    “I am well aware that the two of you are not friendly Mr. Min.  It has come to my attention that you and he had an altercation recently.”
    Yoongi’s face lost all expression at the principal’s words, feeling his heart sinking into his stomach. He kept his mouth shut and said nothing, but his apprehension built by the second as the older man continued.
    “You apparently threatened Jung Hoseok, responding to him with physical force and promising to ‘break his bones’ if he came near you?”
     The temperature in the room felt like it had just dropped 10 degrees. Yoongi could feel his parents accusing stares on him without even looking. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself as he met the principal’s heavy gaze.
    “Look,” he said slowly. “I don’t know what happened, but I had nothing to do with this. I never touched Hoseok -”
    “According to witnesses, you grabbed him in a violent manner in the middle of the hallway during your fight only days ago.”
    “It wasn’t a fight! It - he touched me first. I told him again and again not to touch me… I didn’t hurt him! I just took his hand off me!”
    “Witnesses and teachers reported that Hoseok had lingering marks on his body due to your grabbing him.”
    All Yoongi could do was shake his head, eyes wide, trying to find the words to explain or defend himself. But it wasn’t just his head; he could feel his body beginning to shake; anger and anxiety were mixing sickeningly inside him. What was he really being accused of? What had happened to Hoseok? Violent and intentional beating… “broken leg”… Hoseok… suddenly the words he had yelled in Hoseok’s face were coming back to him in a violent flood, each one like a stab to the chest. He heard a small sound from his mother, and turned quickly to see her eyes red as she held a tissue to , apparently holding back tears. His father glared coldly at his son.
    “Do you really think I did this?” exclaimed Yoongi, staring between the principal and his parents. “I’ve never beaten up anyone in my life! Sure I’ve said some things that were pretty stupid, but -”
    “Min Yoongi, you have a well-known reputation around Hanseong that has not gone by unnoticed by the administration here.” The principal looked at the boy over his glasses as he spoke. His gaze pierced through Yoongi like a knife. “Until now we’ve stocked it up to teenage rumours and foolishness, but we cannot ignore such a heinous crime as what was done to Jung Hoseok. After interviewing some of your peers - those of the highest moral fibre, with top grades besides - it has become clear that you  not only had a particulaur “beef” with the boy in question, but also that you are strongly suspected of being involved in gang-related activities. The night janitor even testified to the fact that you in particular are the ring-leader of a gang of boys who gather at the school grounds late after class to engage in organized rebellious behaviour.”
    “Organized rebell- oh my god!” Yoongi couldn’t keep his voice from rising. “You were right the first time, it’s all stupid rumours! We aren’t a gang for god’s sake! We’re just a bunch of guys who get together to rap and freestyle -”
    “It seems that you have been influenced by this delinquent, crime-idolizing construct of hip-hop music, which has been plaguing our youth for years -”
    “For fu… five cents, it’s just rap! It’s not a plague, it’s music! Just because we rap about stuff doesn’t mean we’re actually going around beating the sh- beating kids up! We haven’t done anything wrong,” Yoongi reiterated vehemently. His face was going red with the effort of not swearing. “I didn’t do this to Hoseok. I have no idea who did.”
    “Where were you last night?”
    His mother’s voice was soft and heartbroken. It crushed Yoongi. He tried to catch her eyes, dark and triangular and so much like his own. His chest ached when she avoided his gaze; He suddenly desperately needed her to know that he hadn’t done this terrible thing. He might be a failure, but he wasn’t a criminal.  
    “I was at a hip-hop show with Namjoon,” he admitted sincerely. He knew it wasn’t what she wanted to hear, but it was the truth.
    “You were also out with Kim Namjoon?” The tone in the principal’s voice made Yoongi frantically shake his head, afraid of implicating his friend.
            “No, no! I mean, yeah, we were out together at first. But he went home around 11, and then -”
    “You didn’t get home until 2am.” It was his father this time. There was only anger in his voice, but his eyes were shaded with disappointment and somewhere deeper, fear.  Fear of the truth. Fear of wondering what his own son was capable of. 
    “I…” Yoongi stuttered, not having an alibi. It was true, he and the boys had lost track of time as they wandered the streets of downtown that night. They hadn’t exactly been model citizens - singing loudly in the night and surely waking people up, scrapping with each other and shouting obscene things at one another. They’d filled balloons with water and dropped them off the freeway. One of the guys had brought along a few cans of spray paint, and the boys who fancied themselves “street artists” had tagged some bus stops and highway barriers. And they hadn’t even come in contact with anyone else - the night had been fairly quiet, with no one much for them to bother and no one to bother them. His path had never crossed with Hoseok’s. But now, as he sat being accused of beating the boy to the point of hospitalization, Yoongi wondered where and when it had happened. What if they had been close by while Hoseok was being beat up? What if they’d only missed him by seconds? What if they could have done something…? 
    “I was just hanging out with my friends,” he finished lamely. 
    The principal let out a deep sigh, removing his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose. He looked worn out. “The fact is Yoongi, I absolutely hate to believe that one of my students would commit such a terrible crime as this, especially against another student. I have looked the other way for the past year where your grades have been concerned, knowing that you are an intelligent young man from a reputable family, hoping that you would eventually pull yourself up. Your hair style is barely acceptable, and the alterations to your uniform are even less so, but I could stock that up to “self expression” and normal teenage rebelliousness. I have seen how other students avoid you in the hallways, and even some teachers seem to have been intimidated by you, or at least the rampant rumours, but I did my best to squash those - especially amongst the staff. But this year things have been growing steadily worse with you, your attendance and grades, and when it came to my attention that there had been an incident between you and another student in the school - well I just wish I had known of it sooner. It seems Mr. Jung preferred not to report it, for whatever reason. I can only imagine it was out of fear.“ He slid his glasses back on, lenses reflecting light so that his expression was obscured. “The fact remains that I cannot turn a blind eye to this. Based on your fight with Hoseok, eye-witness testimony, your inability to produce a reliable alibi, and your  - deserved or not - reputation, I have to do something. I cannot risk the safety of the other students at this school.”
    “But -” Yoongi’s eyes were shifting desperately between his parents, who still refused to look their son in the eyes. Both his mother and father had their heads bowed in shame. “I didn’t do this!” he burst out distraughtly, his voice cracking. “How could you think I would do this? I’m your son! You know I would never hurt someone like that!”
    Finally his mother raised her head, staring blankly into his eyes. The empty look turned his heart to ice. “I don’t know anything anymore. I don’t even know you, Yoongi.”
    The young man choked, a lump rising painfully in his throat. He couldn’t believe this was happening. 
    “I have called for your son’s immediate and indefinite suspension from Hanseong High. It is unfortunate, but until we have further details we must take action to keep our other students safe. And of course, we have had to inform the authorities.”
    The ice that had formed in Yoongi’s heart at the sight of his mother’s unfeeling stare was starting to coat his insides. He felt like he would be able to see his breath in tiny glassy shards if he were able to let out a breath at all. His neck creaked as he heard the door behind them open, and watched in frigid horror as two police officers stepped into the room. One was holding a pair of handcuffs.
    “I am terribly sorry at the circumstances, Mr and Mrs Min. You understand.”
    Yoongi watched from far away as his father nodded, and his mother hid her eyes, shoulders shaking as she began to sob. 
    “We understand.”

    Namjoon walked in the direction of his locker, still feeling perturbed as he left his second class. As he got closer to the front of the school, whispers started following him. Kids were walking with their heads down as they conversed urgently, often excitedly. What’s going on? he wondered vaguely, watching the unfamiliar movements. 
    He spotted Jin down at the end of the hallway, and made to wave at him, but then he saw the expression on the boy’s face and his hand faltered. The older boy was striding purposefully towards him, other students quickly moving out of the way as he barrelled down the hallway with all the presence of a raging bull. His always flawless uniform was in disarray, honey brown eyes filled with fire. Jin didn’t stop until he was right up in Namjoon’s face, breathing harshly.
    “Do you know anything?” he demanded furiously, grabbing Namjoon by the shoulders.
    “Wh-what? ” Namjoon stood stock-still in Jin’s grasp, afraid to move. He had never seen the other boy so distraught. “What’s wrong?”
    He watched in bewilderment as the student president’s handsome face crumpled, sliding startlingly from fury to anguish. His cinnamon eyes, so full of rage in one moment were suddenly filling with tears, his bottom lip trembling. His grip on Namjoon changed, and he now seemed to be holding onto him for dear life. 
    “Hobi,” he whispered painfully, eyes round as they swam with tears. “Hobi. They hurt my Hobi, Namjoon. They -” Jin stopped, face contorting in rage again, and suddenly he was yelling, face red. “I’ll KILL THEM!! I’ll make them wish they were never BORN!!”
    Namjoon took hold of Jin by the arms, staring him in the eyes intensely and shaking him. “Seokjin. What is going on? What happened to Hoseok?”
    The use of Jin’s full name snapped him out of his rage and his face fell again, shoulders slumping under Namjoon’s grip. Tense muscles slackened abruptly, and Jin’s expression and body seemed to be sinking like he might fall to the ground. Namjoon noticed the older boy’s knees buckling, and realized it wasn’t just a might - Jin was close to actually collapsing. His big eyes were full of pain, and as the thick tears pooling in them began to spill over onto his cheeks, Namjoon made the decision to get him out of the hallway and away from the stares and whispers of the other students. He guided Jin a short way around the corner and into the boy’s washroom. 
    Once inside, Jin did collapse. He sat on his knees on the bathroom floor, hands over his face as he cried. Namjoon knelt down beside him, not knowing what was wrong, just knowing that he had to be there for his friend. He put an arm around Jin and rubbed his back, letting the older boy cry. After a while, the sobs shaking his body subsided slightly, and he gasped in deep breaths as he tried to calm himself, sinking back into Namjoon’s comforting touch. Eventually he settled down enough that Namjoon felt it was okay to ask.
    “What happened Jin-hyung?” He kept his voice low and soft, still rubbing the other boy’s back. A hiccupping sob shook him every minute or two.
    “Hobi,” Jin repeated quietly, scrubbing at his red eyes and streaked cheeks. Even as he accepted Namjoon’s patting, he stared into the tile floor as if looking at something far away. “Someone beat him up last night, after he left the party at my place. My place…” His strong brows crushed together, corners of his mouth turning down as the haunted expression in his face deepened, guilt sinking into every crevasse. “He got beat up really bad Namjoon. They said it was probably more than just one person… like a group or a gang… but they don’t know who. He’s really hurt. He’s in -” Jin choked, face scrunching up as he tried desperately to not begin sobbing again. “He’s in the hospital. Someone found him lying in the street.” He gasped then, unable to hold back as the tears started leaking from his eyes, streaming down as he spoke in a cracking voice, broad shoulders shaking. “He’s in really bad condition. I kept asking if I could see him and they said there was no point because he isn’t awake, he hasn’t woken up yet…” 
    “Jesus,” muttered Namjoon. His stomach felt sick at the thought of someone beating up Hoseok, one of the brightest and warmest people he had met since moving back - probably had ever met in his life. How could someone do this? And why? 
    “I don’t know,” Jin moaned softly. Namjoon realized he had whispered the question out loud. “Who would want to hurt my Hobi? Everyone loves him…”
    Namjoon continued to pat Jin, but the sick feeling had just increased ten-fold at the boy’s last words. Not everyone loved Hoseok. In fact, he knew someone who very much disliked Hoseok, so much that he had mentioned on numerous occasions a strong desire to punch the boy straight in the mouth, among other things. But of course, he couldn’t have last night, there was the rap concert…
    “What time did he leave your house?” Namjoon found himself asking. It came out sounding like a plea. And he knew inside that it was; He was begging not to hear what he was so afraid of hearing. Jin didn’t seem to notice his tone, and answered robotically. 
    “11:30. I told the cops, they talked to me, but they didn’t tell me anything… ” 
    Jin’s frustrated ramblings about the police died in Namjoon’s ears. 11:30. He and Yoongi had left the rap venue at 11pm - he remembered clearly, because he’d looked at his watch and freaked out a little when he realized he was an hour past his curfew. He had walked a block to a corner store and called a cab home from there. But Yoongi -
    “…we’re gonna go get into some trouble I think…. Just roam the night like the hoodlums we are.”
    The young man’s words came crawling back into Namjoon’s head, slinking in like a bug with too many legs. It couldn’t be Yoongi. He would never do something like this. He might dislike Hoseok, but he’d never actually beat him up -
    “I’ve barely laid a hand on anyone- though I’d love to put a fist through that Hoseok’s face sometime…”
    Nausea washed over him, the mint-haired boy’s harsh words reverberating in his head, spoken to him the first time they had met. His mother always told him, “When people tell you who they are, believe them.” But Yoongi had also told him that the whole gangster reputation was baseless and untrue, it was all unfounded rumours. Then again, he had also been very candid about how strongly he disliked Hoseok - that it probably bordered on full-out hate, and that even though he did his best to avoid the loud and cheerful boy, he sometimes got cornered and had even considered actually shutting him up once and for all. So what if, in the dark of the cold winter night, the two boys’ paths had crossed and Yoongi hadn’t been able to avoid him - or hadn’t wanted to? What if the older boy, who had already been pissed off that same night after a run-in with a rival rapper and being unfairly ripped off by the club manager, had run into his biggest annoyance and decided to finally do something about it while he had his group of dangerous guys at his back? 
    Namjoon realized Jin was speaking, and he snapped back to his friend, head still swimming sickeningly as he looked into the older boy’s hurt eyes.
    “’Joonie,” he was whimpering, fat tears dropping steadily onto his lap now, staining his grey uniform. The anguish on his face was palpable now as he whispered, seeming afraid to speak the words as they fell from his trembling mouth. “They broke his leg. All he’s ever wanted to do in his whole life was dance, and they broke his leg. They did it on purpose ‘Joonie.” 
    Those words were the final punch to the gut necessary. Namjoon let the lump in his throat rise, unable to hold back the burning. Small, silent tears slid down his face; For Jin’s pain, for Hoseok’s pain. And for Yoongi, the new best friend who he’d already come to love and now suspected of something unspeakable.

    The second half of that school day was a terrible, awful blur. Namjoon had left the washroom with Jin, guilt, fear and doubt sitting like lead in his stomach, only to be almost immediately accosted by a school administrator and a police officer. They had taken him to the office for questioning, leaving Jin behind like a desperately lost and beaten puppy, uniform still a mess and stained in tears. Namjoon sat in the office as if in an interrogation room, both the principal and the officer staring him down and asking many questions, often looking as if they didn’t believe his answers. And with every question - as vague and carefully worded as they were - Namjoon knew that his worst fears were already being answered. Even the school and the police thought that Yoongi had done this to Hoseok. Even without mentioning the boy’s name once, Namjoon felt as if he were incriminating him further. After a call to his mother, who corroborated his story of getting home at quarter after 11 to a stern lecture about curfew, he was let go from the office. Namjoon tried to ask questions about Hoseok, but was quickly shut down and escorted away. 
    Jin joined him again later during lunch break, in which neither boy could stomach eating a thing. Without Jimin and Hoseok, it was just the two of them at their table. Jungkook made an appearance, trailed by Taehyung; The youngest spoke in a hushed voice, eyes downcast as he promised to meet them both after school at the hospital to see Hoseok. The two left quickly, apparently not wanting to intrude on the older boys’ grief, but Namjoon wished that they would have stayed. His guilt at the perceived knowledge that Yoongi could have been the perpetrator - a fact which Jin still didn’t seem to know - and that he could have even somehow prevented it from happening ate viciously at his core. 
    Before they headed back to class, Jin broke down again, demanding that he be let out of school early so that he could go see Hoseok right now - a plea which was denied by the principal, though he did allow Jin to do his work in the student council room instead of class. Undoubtedly, he had gotten as little actual schoolwork done as Namjoon managed to for the rest of the day. 
    And then, just as the last dismissal bell was finished ringing and the four boys - Jin, Namjoon, Jungkook and Taehyung - gathered together at the entrance to solidify their plans, it happened. Just one little comment, muttered quietly by a faceless pair of students as they rushed to leave the school for another day.
    “Did you hear? Min Yoongi got arrested. I hear he beat the out of some kid.”
    Namjoon froze, staring Jin in the eyes. He watched as Jin’s face drained of colour.
    “About time. Did you know that he stabbed a teacher once?”
    “I’d believe it.”
    Jungkook and Taehyung stared wide-eyed between the two of them. The words rang in all their ears like a gong that kept reverberating. Before Namjoon could form words from his open mouth, Jin turned away blank-faced and strode out the front doors. The three boys followed him at a close distance until they reached Jin’s car. He leaned against the side of it, hand on the door handle, but not pulling it open. His jaw was clenched, fist trembling slightly as it gripped the handle. His face was white. When he looked up finally, his usually warm cinnamon eyes were black and icy, filled with a cold, ruthless fire. His voice was low and dangerous when he spoke.
    “If Min Yoongi had anything to do with this,” Jin said simply, “So help me God.”
    And with that, he opened his car door and got in. Namjoon, Jungkook and Taehyung followed suit, and the four of them drove to the hospital in silence.