It was rain and drizzles and thunder-filled nights the three days before he came. And when he did, he arrived with the long awaited rays of sunlight, honey golden and summer warm, with dad's round brown eyes, mom's little nose and chubby cheeks of his own. He was sweet; he didn't cry, he nuzzled up and blinked quietly, curiously, between his long naps, eye lashes fluttering at the faces he saw for the first time.

 

Yoongi was two and he was more concerned with the soft and tiny addition to his family than mom's tummy's sudden disappearance. He spent hours tiptoeing beside the crib - he was told, because he doesn't remember it very well - studying the small fingers and toes - "mom will he get bigger?" - and staring at round eyes that stared back, before he decided, with just a little hint of doubt, that he liked the baby quite a bit.

 

The two-year-old Yoongi would then spend hours talking to the little guy, until he got tired and fell asleep, mouth open, next to his new friend. They looked so adorable that his mom gave her second son a sweet, though slightly girly, name - "Jimin".

 

 

 

As little as the young Yoongi understood what it meant to be the eldest kid in the house, he took up his older brother role with great joy and pride. Yoongi grew from busying himself with endless inquiries about Jimin, to - when Jimin babbled "Gi hyung" for the first time – being completely smitten; and his parents found themselves jealous of the attention "Gi hyung" gave to his favourite dongsaeng.

 

Jimin would soon fall in love with his hyung too, becoming Yoongi's overly-attached tail, writing stories about his personal hero every chance he had in class, volunteering as sidekick whenever they played combat with the neighbourhood kids. Jimin - just like the name he was given - was sweet and caring and loving, and sometime between piggybacking Jimin to school and holding his hand when crossing the street, Yoongi couldn't help promising himself to be the best hyung ever for Jimin.

 

And Yoongi was, sometimes treading on the edge of being over-protective, paying more attention to Jimin than anyone else in the world.

 

And one day when their dad disappeared into the night, Yoongi put all his energy into making sure that his little brother is alright.

 

 

 

The unkind murmurs of his neighbours began, as did the sneers of immature classmates, and the empty pill containers at mom's table that he was not supposed to see. The fifteen-year-old Yoongi watched helplessly as parts and pieces of him get chipped off, as innocence left and childhood ended before he was ready. Yoongi was broken, but heaven forbade that anything touched the beautiful smile on Jimin's face, that the shenanigans of life worried his innocent brother. No, he wouldn't let their ty life change Jimin the cruel way it did on him.

 

"Did you get into a fight again?" Jimin's brows furrowed as he gently dapped the blood away from Yoongi's forehead.

 

Yoongi flinched, but he didn't answer.

 

"I won't tell mom. But…" Jimin sighed "your old wound hasn't even healed yet."

 

Yoongi let silence be his reply, lips pressed tight, eyes avoiding, because anything would be better than telling Jimin that his classmates were calling him bad names – “the cheater’s kid” or some sort - and Yoongi had to make them stop.

 

"Yoongi hyung… will you tell me if… something's wrong?"

Lips pressed tight.

 

"Sometimes, I feel as if... you shut me out, you know?"

Eyes avoiding.

 

Jimin lowered his head, teeth worrying his lips and fingers twisting around each other.

 

"Whatever that burdens your mind... I mean, you can tell me... anytime..."

 

Jimin brushed the tip of his nose with his finger and Yoongi knew too well that the kid was about to cry. His heart clenched as if air was being out of his chest. Jimin was not supposed to be worried about him, he was supposed to be happy and care-free and kind and bright the way he had always been, the way he hopped his way into Yoongi's life.

 

"Don't be stupid!" Yoongi swallowed the storm stirring up at the bottom of his throat "High school students fight all the times. About... adult matters that you, Park Jimin," Yoongi paused to poke at his brother's side "are too young to know about."

 

"You're only two years older than me!" Jimin grumbled.

 

"Yah!" Yoongi barked and jumped on his unsuspecting brother, holding him in a headlock, one arm wrapping around Jimin's neck and the other ruffling his soft hair "I am still taller than you, brat!"

 

Jimin kicked and whined even more as he tried to squirm his way out of Yoongi's grip and Yoongi cracked up in loud, hearty laugh, surprising even himself. He couldn't remember the last time he held his tiny brother and wow how much had he grown, and yet he was still the same little kid that couldn't do a thing about his hyung's teasing.

 

Jimin's arms rubbed again the bruises along Yoongi's ribs. Subtle pain grumbled underneath his skin but Yoongi's laugh rung even louder in his ears.

 

Somewhere inside he was half crying half praying that they could stay that way forever.

 

Jimin gave up on his escape and flopped down against the couch's armrest, so Yoongi slacked his grip on his brother, but he didn't let go just yet.

 

"Hyung..."

 

"Hmm?"

 

"You gave them a good beating, right?"

 

Yoongi's chuckle came a split second late.

 

"Yeah. Yeah I did."

 

 

 

Fast forward two years and Yoongi could barely recognize the ghostly eyes gazing at him from behind the mirror, or the tattoos that peeked out of his sleeves, or the studs lining up on his ears.

 

Truancy, rules-breaking, fights, everything had long become a whirlpool that Yoongi in, and he had long given up on trying to get out of the dark vortex. He started spending more time in the principle office and detention room than in his classes, and the only reason why he still had a seat in the school was the fact a few teachers took pity on him, and were holding on to some sort of blind hope that miracle would happen. But Yoongi knew better, and he was counting the days left until they too would give up on him, the way his mother did, the way she stopped picking up calls from the school or asking for his report cards.

 

People talked; they said Yoongi was a lost cause, that they wish Yoongi could have been more like Jimin; Jimin that sweet little boy who was so kind and thoughtful and hardworking, Jimin who luckily did not follow his hyung's footsteps. Those words were melodies to Yoongi's ears, reassuring him that Jimin was happy, that his little brother was perfect the way he should be.

 

 

 

"Waaaaa this smells so good hyung!" Jimin beamed brightly over the steamy ramen, his cheeks growing pink at the heat.

 

"Eat up." Yoongi matched Jimin's radiant smile with his own before stuffing a chopstick of the mouth-watering noodle into his mouth.

 

It was Jimin's birthday and it had been quite a while since Yoongi brought his little brother to his favourite ramen place and watched him wash down the whole bowl at the speed of light. Yoongi's own food left forgotten as he looked at Jimin blowing on the soup, hissing as it burned his tongue and yet eyes flickering with joy at the satisfying pain.

 

"Look at the two boys... Jimin grew up so well" Yoongi's ears picked up soft whisper from the counter.

 

"How lucky he isn't like his hyung..."

 

"Jimin shouldn't hang around Yoongi so much though. Yoongi will be bad influence on the boy."

 

"You are right. You lie down with dogs, you’ll get up with fleas ..."

 

Yoongi felt something in his chest just drop to the floor. Jimin said nothing, but he paused for two seconds before continued gulping down his food.

 

Yoongi couldn't swallow the rest of the things in his bowl, hands on the table. But Jimin quickly finished his. The younger boy then looked at his brother, sad smile tugging on his lips. And Yoongi wished he could  tell Jimin that he was sorry, that he didn't mean to be a bad hyung but Jimin beat him to it.

 

"Hyung, you know I love you right?"

 

Yoongi blinked because he would cry if he opened his lips.

 

 

 

Yoongi was eighteen and he loved Jimin just the same, but he dreamt of Jimin's tattooed arms, of Jimin's being in a dark alley, of his brother's blood in his hands and he woke up clutching his chest.

 

So Yoongi still pulled up Jimin's blanket when he found the younger boy asleep on his bed, textbook lay open on his chest; he still stuffed crinkled notes in Jimin's wallet before he slipped back to his room; but Yoongi had long stopped walking Jimin to school, or asking him for a basketball match during lunch break. Yoongi loved Jimin just the same but Jimin deserved better than a broken friend.

 

Jimin joined the school’s dance club and Yoongi grew an interest in music, almost like a coping system to fill the void he created himself.

 

And everything could have been okay if Yoongi had not gotten caught in the school’s backyard with another guy’s tongue down his throat and the whole school had not made making Yoongi's life a living hell one of its missions. Since then, there was not a day pass without people backing away from him in the hallway, without curses scribbled on his desk, or his things thrown out of the window. Yoongi thought he could put up with all the bullying for another half a year until his graduation, but one day Yoongi saw Jimin picking up his hyung's notebooks from the school's garbage dump and quietly dusting the dirt off the torn pages, so he submitted his drop-out form that very afternoon without even thinking twice.

 

 

 

Yoongi found a job in the local record store for a dirt cheap pay, but he did not mind because it was the one place that allowed him to drown himself in musi. The money he earned was just enough for him to afford his CD collection and some extra allowance for Jimin, but he had enough free time at the checkout desk to scribble pages of lyrics and he even got to know some people with the same interests there, people who would not bat an eyelid at his tattoos or the rumours they heard.

 

Spending more time at the store meant getting home later at night. Despite having insited that Jimin do not wait up, Yoongi always found his younger brother dozing off on the couch, sometimes with the TV on, when he got home. Yoongi missed Jimin, missed waking him up for breakfast and reminding him not to stay up late at night, but he finally found a place where he didn’t have to tiptoe around people or to pretend that he did not notice the disdainful glances. The store became his getaway, even from home, where his mom had long refused to acknowledge his existence.

 

 

 

“Hyung are you coming back for dinner?”

 

“Er, my friends are actually throwing me a par… NAMJOON DON’T TOUCH THE GRAMAPHONE… yeah they are throwing me this surprise birthday party. I think I’ll be home late tonight so don’t wait up.”

 

“Oh…”

 

“I’m sorry kid.”

 

“No, no. It’s okay! Enjoy your party hyung. Happy birthday!”

 

“Thanks” Yoongi could almost see Jimin’s smile through the phone and he instinctively matched it “I miss you.”

 

“Miss you too, hyung. See you later.”

 

 

 

Yoongi walked through the door barely tipsy, because none of them poor college students actually had enough money to get themselves drunk. And just as usual, Yoongi found Jimin curling up on the couch, arms tucked underneath his head as a pillow.

 

“Hey” Yoongi sat down and gently ruffled Jimin’s hair “were you waiting for me?”

 

“Hyuuuuung” Jimin stirred awake, rubbing his eyes open with the back of his hand “you’re back.”

 

“Why didn’t you sleep in your room?”

 

“I have something for you.” Jimin got off the couch and disappeared into his room.

 

A few minutes later, he came back with a box in his hands. “Open it, hyung!”

 

Yoongi unwrapped his present. And there lay on his lap the two latest albums of his favourite artist, and a brand new notebook.

 

“I… saw… some of your lyrics and they are really, really amazing. So… the notebook is for your writing.” Jimin scratched the back of his head.

 

Yoongi wish he knew what else to say except for the quiet “thank you” that echoed back in his throat and sounded too much like an apology.

 

That night Yoongi burnt the midnight’s oil crouching over his desk and scribbled the first words into his new present, about the small hand that used to fit nicely in his, about the little guy that had grown into a bigger person with a golden heart, and about face-splitting smile of pride that Yoongi only let shown behind his brother’s back.

 

 

 

Yoongi was sorting out the newly arrived records when he looked up and noticed Jimin’s waving enthusiastically from outside the glass window. His other hand was clasping around someone else’s fingers so Yoongi craned his neck slightly but all he could see was a waterfall of brown hair on small shoulders.

 

A little smirk appeared on Yoongi’s face as Jimin stepped into the shop, without his secret companion.

 

 “Who’s the girl?” and Yoongi was anything but beating around the bush.

 

“Ehh…” Jimin cheeks flushed bright red and Yoongi couldn’t help giggling at the sight “Hyung shouldn’t you be more concerned about your brother first before… other things?”

 

“I AM being concerned about you.”

 

“I mean… arghh… Anyway, I just want to ask if you’re free this Saturday evening.”

 

“Yeah, I should be." Yoongi glanced at the duty roster sheet behind the counter "Why?”

 

“I’m having a performance! And I have already saved you a front row seat!” Jimin smiled brightly.

 

“Wow! Where will it be?”

 

“It will be… er… in school.” A little nervous frown formed between Jimin’s eyebrows - there was a reason why Yoongi decided to drop out anyway.

 

“I’ll come.” Yoongi said after taking a deep breath.

 

“REALLY? You’re really going? Promise?” The sheer joy in Jimin’s little hops turned any budding worries at the back of Yoongi’s mind to nothingness.

 

“Of course I am. How can I miss your performance?”

 

“I’m so glad you can go, hyung.” Jimin took out the VIP ticket from his wallet and pressed it into Yoongi’s palm.

 

“I can tell that you are.” And Yoongi saw his favourite smile on the face of his favourite person in the entire world.

 

 

 

Yoongi felt a little awkward among families and buzzing groups of friends, as he showed up at the front of house alone – of course his mom once again decided that something else was more important than her son. Yoongi dressed up in one of the few presentable sets of clothes he had, holding a small bouquet he picked up on his way from home. He didn’t particularly feel like bumping into anyone, so Yoongi hid himself behind one of the show banners and texted Jimin “good luck”, while waiting for the music to play, the cue that the performance was about to begin.

 

Yoongi slipped into his seat just in time before the MC walked off the stage, passing the limelight to the dancers pre-setting their first performance item, allowing Yoongi some time to look around. That’s when he noticed someone familiar on his right, one arm wrapping tightly around a red stuffed heart and one holding a sign that reads “Park Jimin Jjang”.

 

The strong beat blasted through the theatre and the crowd started screaming names, shaking Yoongi from his train of thoughts.

 

That’s when Yoongi saw his little brother, not so little and shy anymore when he stood on that stage, captivating every pair of eyes in the audience with his flawless movements, the lightning footwork and especially that burning passion that seemed to exuded from every single cell in his body. Jimin’s dancing got the audience inhale, exhale, gasp and yell with every little change in accents, with every stop and flow. Yoongi sat, spellbound, half doubting if the Jimin he saw on stage was the same Jimin that took photos of random stray cats on the streets and sent to Yoongi and checked on whether his hyung already had lunch and asked whether Yoongi still remembered algebra because he was completely screwed for the coming test. The Jimin that was shining on stage was starkly different, everything about him screamed that under the limelight was where he belonged, that he was meant for greatness, that he deserved the attention.

 

And then the whole theatre was taken over by waves of deafening applause. Yoongi wish he could jump on stage and cry out to tell the whole world that Jimin was his brother, that he was so proud; but instead he sneaked his way to the backstage to wait to congratulate Jimin personally, away from the hyped up crowd.

 

 

 

“I don’t understand” Yoongi picked up Jimin’s voice.

 

“… next to me. Do you know how awkward it was?”

 

“Why? He’s my brother.”

 

“I don’t care about your brother! I don’t want to get to know him.”

 

“Are you not listening to me? He’s my brother.”

 

“Jimin, you shouldn’t hang out with him. My friends told me about him. He’s… not normal.”

 

“Yeah. He’s not normal because he’s millions times better than you and your judgmental friends.”

 

 

 

Yoongi clutched the flowers into his chest as he heard the steps stomping away, mixed emotions stirring at the pit of his gut.

 

 

 

“Hyung?...”

 

 Yoongi turned around, meeting the surprised brown eyes.

 

“How long have you been standing here?”

 

“Long enough.” Yoongi pushed the flowers towards Jimin “Here. Congrats! That was an amazing performance.”

 

“Thanks hyung… C’mon, let’s go for some supper! I know this new ramen place near school!”

 

“Your girlfriend…?”

 

“Girlfriend?” Jimin pursed out his lip “What girlfriend?”

 

Yoongi blinked at Jimin, and broke into laughter, swinging his arm over Jimin’s shoulder.

 

“Let’go! Your hyung is terribly hungry. Since you have worked hard today, I shall treat!”

 

“YAYYYYY Yoongi hyung is the best!”

 

Yoongi ruffled Jimin’s hair, feeling even more proud of his little brother at that moment than he did sitting in front of the stage.

 

 

 

“I will make it big, and make a lot of money. And I will bring you out of here, getting you into the top universities in Seoul.”

 

“It’s okay hyung…” Jimin said “You have to go to Seoul and show the world your talent. But I think I’ll stay here.”

 

“Why?” Yoongi raised his eyebrows.

 

“Who’s gonna take care of mom, hyung?” Jimin smiled at his fingers.

 

Yoongi wished someone could shove him into a wall and beat him up, break his ribcage or something; it would have hurt less than the incessant stabbing he felt in his chest.

 

 

 

During Jimin’s last year in high school, Yoongi clinched the ticket to become trainee in a small entertainment company located in the big scary city named Seoul, by some obscure miracles - although Jimin fervently disagreed, as he placed the neatly folded hoodie into Yoongi’s luggage, saying hyung you are truly talented obviously you would debut and become famous.

 

Jimin skipped school to spend the last day with Yoongi before he left to pursue his dream – their dream, Jimin corrected. They wandered the many streets of the little town, rediscovered the unknown corners, and relived the shared memories. Stories were endless and there didn’t seem to be enough time for Yoongi to finish packing whatever emotional luggage he needed for his long trip away from home.

 

When the sky faded into its lonely shade of purple, the two boys settled down on the mouldy surface of the abandoned bridge, shrouding themselves in silence and the hesitation to say farewell. Jimin swung his legs that hung restlessly over the edge, staring at anything but Yoongi.

 

“Remember that time when I was scolded and stomped out of home?”

 

“… And I followed you here?”

 

“… And then climbed into my lap…”

 

“… It was the first time I saw you cry…”

 

“But you ended up crying even louder than me.” Yoongi chuckled.

 

“And I made you piggyback me back home.” Jimin let out of soft giggle.

 

“I wish you would follow me to Seoul.”

 

Jimin sighed, wearing a smile that did not touch his eyes.

 

“Hyung, you said you would make it big. It’s a promise. You have to. You must not let anything here hold you back. You must not let the things that happened affect your dream. You must not be worried about anything…”

 

Yoongi wanted to snap back, asking Jimin who was the older one, who should be telling whom to not be worried, who should apologize for leaving the other behind and breaking his own promise of being the best hyung; but his throat was too dry and his eyes were too wet.

 

“Uhm” was all he could manage.

 

And suddenly it felt like twelve years ago, when the two little boys sat on the old bridge with tears in their eyes as their world revolved around each other; except for this time, Yoongi wouldn’t be able to take Jimin home.

 

 

 

Yoongi flipped through the pages in his notebook on the plane, and noticed a handwriting that was not his own. The clumsy verses and the awkward rhymes made him laugh. Yoongi placed the notebook down on his lap and gazed out of the window; his town the size of a pea and in that pea existed a mini Jimin that was probably looking up at the sky.

 

“I will, kid, I will.”

 

 

 

 

 

The trainee life was much harder than Yoongi expected. He was tossed into the endless cycles of trainings, of dance moves that refused to soak into his muscles and notes that were too foreign to his tongue to reach, of nights that ended too late and morning that began when the rest of the world were still asleep. The only thing that kept Yoongi going was that promise he made on the plane, and the few kitten photos that he set as his phone wallpaper from time to time.

 

“How are you hyung?”

 

“I am severely sleep-deprived.” Yoongi replied with a yawn “How about you? Still owning the school with your study?”

 

“It’s so hard hyungggggg…” Yoongi heard the sound of pages flipping frustratingly through the phone “I’m dying.”

 

“Yah! It’s 3am! You should be asleep now.”

 

“Says the one who is still awake and yet complains that he’s sleep-deprived.”

 

“I would kick your if I was over there.”

 

Jimin laughed – the sweet melody that Yoongi needed to hear.

 

“I miss you, hyung.”

 

“I miss you too.”

 

“Don’t get sick.”

 

“Go to sleep.”

 

“Bye hyung.”

 

 

 

Yoongi missed his little brother but things kept getting harder with each day passed. There were days when Yoongi dropped unconscious the moment his back hit his bed and woke up to a “goodnight” message waiting for a reply, other days he only managed to touch his phone at the wee hours, when Jimin was probably already sound asleep.

 

Yoongi missed his little brother but his promised debut day was just months away and the shorter the time they had left the less could they afford “distractions”. And yet, alhough his hyung’s replies came less and less frequently, Jimin did not stop telling Yoongi about the silliest things that happened at home, coupled with hearts and smiley emoticons. It was amazing how Yoongi could feel the warmth of Jimin’s beautiful smile when they were smiles apart, but Yoongi did, scrolling through the unread messages on his bed before giving into exhaustion.

 

 

 

“, I am so nervous right now.”

 

“Hyung, breathe. You’re gonna be fine.”

 

“I am so gonna forget the steps…”

 

“Stop. Saying. That. You’re gonna be great.”

 

“Are you watching right now?”

 

“It’s not live… so I’m not… but I know you are gonna kill it on stage.”

 

“But you’ve never seen me perform.”

 

“I’m your brother, remember?”

 

“Yoongi you’ve got to get off the phone we are on stage in 10 minutes.” Namjoon shouted.

 

“I gotta go. Thanks Jimin.”

 

“Call me once you finish okay?”

 

 

 

Their debut stage was flawless, in fact, most of their performances were. They became the most successful rookie group of the year. There were so many interviews and shows they had to attend that Yoongi began to lose track of which was which. When he finally found the time to give Jimin that callback he promised, they had already ended their first promotion.

 

 

 

“I watched them all. Waaa Namjoon hyung was so good! His rapping is so amazing. And that raspy voice..."

 

"I'm hanging up."

 

"... But still my hyung is the best. You totally stand out… like all that swaggy hand gestures… and I think you are even better at dancing than me now hyung!”

 

"That's better" Yoongi let out a satisfied laugh “Should I send you a signed copy of our album?"

 

"No, I will go to your fansign event myself, so I can take a photo with you too."

 

"They don't let idols take photos with ugly people you know?"

 

"Ahhhh hyungggggg"

 

Yoongi laughed, scribbling down some notes about becoming an adult with a child's heart in his notebook. That would be a good inspiration for later.

 

"Hyung..."

 

"Hmm?"

 

"I saw mom watch your performance."

 

"..."

 

"She rarely watches TV but she was watching the shows you were on."

 

"She probably didn't even know it was me."

 

"Mom recorded all of your performances, hyung."

 

Yoongi sighed. He remembered the nights he knocked on her room's door but there was no answer.

 

"How is mom?"

 

"She is fine. She misses you though."

 

"Jimin, please..."

 

"It's okay hyung. I just hope you can forgive our mom one day."

 

"..."

 

"So... I guess... I'll talk to you again in a few weeks? Months?"

 

"I'll try to call once the next promotion is over." Yoongi bit down on his lip.

 

"Next month it shall be. Take care, hyung!"

 

Yoongi hung up the call but Jimin's words kept on ringing in his ears, so he turned up the volume of his headset and let music take the unwanted thoughts away.

 

 

It was in the middle of a radio recording when Yoongi received the call.

 

"Yoongi...I think you've gotta take this..."

 

"Hello?" Yoongi took the phone from his manager with a confused expression.

 

"Yoongi-yah... Yoongi..."

 

"Mom?"

 

"Jimin-ie... Jimin-ie... hospital..."

 

His phone broke into two as it hit the floor. And the next three hours of rushing back to the dorm, of Hoseok's helping Yoongi pack his things, of Namjoon's trying to book the earliest flight over the phone, of their manager's scrambling to make rearrangements, went by in the blur.

 

Hoseok pulled Yoongi in his arms, but even his lover's warmth could not make him feel better.

 

"I wish I could go with you... Jimin would be alright. The boy is strong, he will pull through."

 

Yoongi clutched at Hoseok's chest, unable to move his lips to make a coherent answer. He thought about the last time he called Jimin, the last time he looked at Jimin's ridiculous cat photos, the last time he checked on Jimin's grade. God, he didn't even know if Jimin got a new girlfriend and Yoongi wish he could split himself into two so he could punch himself hard in his gut.

 

"Baby, Jimin will be alright, I promise you."

 

 

 

Yoongi found his mom crying into her palms on the waiting seat, cheeks sunken and eyes swollen. She looked ten years older and much skinnier compared to the last time Yoongi saw her. Her small frame shook at the weight of her own gasping, looking as if it was one more sob from giving out.

 

Yoongi sat down next to his mom and threw his arms around her, resting her head against his chest and sat there silently as her tears collected in his shirt.

 

The doctor came out of the surgery room, informing them that it was going to take the whole night and that he couldn’t confirm anything about Jimin’s state regardless of how many times Yoongi asked. Yoongi was calmer than he expected, probably because of Hoseok’s constant message checking up on him, or because of his habit of faking a strong façade when the people around him are weak, or maybe it’s the extreme worry that numbed his feelings all over.

 

 

His mom finally fell asleep, exhausted from crying, her tousled grey hair covered her puffy eyes, arms folding across her chest. Yoongi hardly ever took a good look at his mom before. She looked tired. Not just from whatever happened today, but from life, from the white pills that helped her sleep and the others the kept her running, from holding on the secrets that tugged heavy in the wrinkles on her face.

 

Yoongi took of his jacket and put it on his mom, and he suddenly recalled that last conversation he had with Jimin.

 

Did Jimin mean for this to happen, so finally his hyung could get over his stubbornness and forgive their mom?

 

He shook the stupid idea from his head and swallowing the rest of the bitter coffee in his cup.

 

 

Yoongi spent the whole night chasing thoughts, thinking about Jimin lying unconsciously on the surgery table, connected to all kinds of tubes and machines, about finding out who was the bloody bastard that left him there on the road and screwing his face to the ground, about the birthdays, the events, the anniversaries that he missed, about that last evening on the bridge when Jimin told him not to worry. What a little , is this how he kept his hyung from worrying? Was he punishing Yoongi for the messages that he did not reply? For failing his promise to protecting his little brother forever?

 

 

And then Jimin was transferred out, stable – he’s such a fighter, the doctor said.

Bruises and scratches marked themselves on Jimin’s face and all along his body, but Jimin’s asleep with the same angelic face, the same restful subtle smile that Yoongi grew to love all his life.

 

Yoongi threaded his fingers between Jimin’s chubby ones.

 

“Take your time, Jimin-ie, hyung will be staying here with you.”

 

 

 

“Hyung…”

 

“Jimin! You’re awake?”

 

“…gi hyung…” Jimin blinked tiredly at the face in front of his.

 

“Yes it’s me, it’s Yoongi hyung.”

 

“Where’s mom?”

 

“She’s bringing food from home. She’ll be here soon. Are you okay? I mean, do you need anything?”

 

“Where’s…where’s my signed album?”

 

“What?” Yoongi laughed, unbelieving “I thought you wanted to come to my fansign and get it yourself.”

 

“Do I… look like... I can go?” Jimin smiled.

 

“You brat” Yoongi squeezed Jimin’s hand. “Do you know how worried I was?”

 

“…I’m sorry hyung” Jimin squeezed back, with half the strength he normally had.

 

“I’m sorry, Jimin… I should have protected you.”

 

“You always have, hyung. You always have...” Jimin raised his wired hand to touch Yoongi’s face, Yoongi felt as if his heart was about to burst.

 

“Jimin-ah, let’s move to Seoul once you recovered.”

 

“But…hyung…”

 

“With mom. The three of us.”

 

Jimin’s lips spread into that bright smile that even sunlight couldn’t compete, the smile that Yoongi knew, since he was two years old and Jimin’s name still rolled out of his tongue awkwardly like a new alphabet, was his favourite smile in the entire world.