s/o to Jsistona for her comment on my a/n on the previous chapter and for getting it spot on, I was honestly surprised at how accurate she was x). I copied and pasted her comment, so these were her own words (bold brackets is the a/n):

[Hyunjung; cares too much] After being so socially awkward and mindful before, Hyunjung now cares too much so she doesn't lose what she's gained therefore not only harming herself in the process, but sometimes others due to that mindset.

[Jungkook; too friendly] Jungkook is too kind, too friendly, just too open that the depth of his feelings and how strong they are, are unclear, which makes him a sus character cuz his actions are directed to everyone.

[Taehyung; thinks too realistically] Tae is too realistic so he loses out on opportunities before he can even try to attempt them because "that's the logical choice" and "that's how it's supposed to be". He can't think of a "what if" because he knows that some happy endings will fail (cuz of how his parents played out) and believes that fighting for an "what if" is useless and the equation doesn't require an extra variable.

It wasn’t uncommon for Jimin to go to Jungkook’s house uninvited. Like that one time when Jungkook was at weekend training, and Jimin had texted him saying that he went to his house and that his mom was making a full-set lunch for him. Jungkook had a talk with his mom later that day and asked her as a joke who her son was. But Jungkook didn’t mind because Jimin was practically a brother to him, he just wished that for at least half the times when Jimin crashed at his house, that he would receive some kind of notice in advance. Like this morning, he went downstairs when he woke up and found Jimin, in his pajamas – bed hair and all – sat at the table happily munching on a piece of toast.

They spent the rest of the morning until the afternoon in his room playing video games. They got bored after completing the game for the third time, and were now just sitting around. “Just curious, Kook, but when’s your next game?” Jimin asked, still keeping his attention still fixed on the music show they were watching.

“Somewhere in February, I think. It’ll be our busiest season, so I reckon I’ll be at training most lunch times during then.”

“Cool, that’ll be fun,” Jimin commented, but Jungkook’s straight face said otherwise.

“Not really. Mr Song is too competitive when it comes to games against private schools.”

Jimin took his eyes off from the T.V and arched a brow at him before looking back at the screen again with a shrug. “Won’t matter because you’ll probably win anyway.”

Jungkook sighed, ruffling his hair in annoyance and plummeted his face down onto the bed. A constant ringing sounded, and he brought his head up, extending an arm to his bedside table to fumble for his phone, and seeing that the caller was Hyunjung, he answered it immediately. “Hyunjung?” But the voice on the other line wasn’t hers. “Taehyung?” Of course the first thought for Jungkook would be why Taehyung had Hyunjung’s phone, but there wasn’t much for him to assume, not yet at least. Jimin took note of the temporary silence from Jungkook, and turned off the television. Jungkook suddenly stood up, the lines on his forehead creasing in worry. “What? Of course I will. What’s your address?” Jimin watched as Jungkook rushed to his desk, scrambling for pen and paper, his hand quick in writing. “It’ll take about fifteen minutes for us to walk there. How is she though?”

Jimin wanted to know what was wrong and tried to grab Jungkook’s attention, but he had such a concentrated look on his face that Jimin stopped. The lines on Jungkook’s forehead relaxed and he let out a breath of relief. “Okay, I’ll be there soon. Thanks, Taehyung.”

“What happened?” Jimin asked after Jungkook hung up.

Jungkook circled the room; hurriedly grabbing his coat, a few other things and shoved them in his pockets. “Hyunjung was at the mall today but she had a fever. She’s resting at Taehyung’s house right now.” He paused at his desk, and picked up a small, neatly wrapped box, and was careful in putting it in his coat pocket.

“Uh, why she’s at his house?”

“He was with her at the time. Her uncle is at work and Taehyung asked me to come over.”

Jimin watched as Jungkook slid his coat on. “Then what am I supposed to do?”

Jungkook shrugged. “You can come if you want.”

“But I don’t want to walk for fifteen minutes.”

“Then you can stay here or go back home.” Jungkook headed towards the door, and his hand reached for the handle.

Jimin sighed in exasperation and stood up. “Fine! I’ll go! But wait for me!”

Jimin craned his neck up at the house before them. They were careful and noiseless when they had opened the gate, and were now stood outside, both deciding whether or not they should knock. And it’s been what? Like, five minutes now?

The house before them was modern and its overall appearance was neat; the outside cream with long windows and its roof a shiny, jet black. The front entrance was decorated with a few plants, and was lit brightly even though it was still the late afternoon. Jungkook and Jimin had passed by a lot of houses much like this one, but Jungkook was sure this was the one they were looking for. Unlike Jungkook’s neighbourhood, where in the weekend all the kids played outside on each other’s driveway making a ruckus, this neighbourhood was quiet and tidy. “Are you sure you’ve got the right address?” Jimin asked. “This is the neighbourhood where all the rich, stuck-up people live.”

“This is actually a really nice neighbourhood. You can’t classify everyone who lives here as stuck-ups.” Jungkook checked the piece of paper and again at the number on the door. “And since when have I been wrong with directions?”

Jimin paused to think. “Last year when we went to the—”

“That was one time.”

“And also when—”

“Okay! More than once! But I’m positive this is the right place.” Jungkook waved the piece of paper in front of his face, and Jimin tried to take a look at it but Jungkook wouldn’t keep it still.

“Alright, alright, whatever you say, captain. Let’s just ring the doorbell.” Jungkook pushed the doorbell, and afterwards Jimin nudged him on the shoulder. “Uh, do you think anyone’s home? Or we got the wrong house?”

“It’s been three seconds since I rang the doorbell, Jimin.”

A few more seconds passed and Jimin nudged him on the shoulder. “Are you sure this is the right house?”

“For the last time –” The door opened, and they turned. A kid who appeared to be around ten stood before them, and he looked very familiar, not in the way that they’ve seen him before, but something else, like a similarity.

“Yes?” the boy asked, eyeing the two.

Jungkook cleared his throat. “Uh, by chance is Kim Taehyung your brother?”

“Yeah.”

“He called me over here.”

“Yeah, I know.” Taewon moved to the side to let them in the doorway, and Jungkook and Jimin entered the house, slipping their shoes off and placing them on the doormat. Jimin’s mouth went agape as his eyes helicoptered around slowly, and he nudged Jungkook a little too hard, to which he countered back with an even stronger nudge.

“What?” Jungkook whispered starkly, rubbing the side of his arm.

“Taehyung has a really nice house.”

Taewon locked the door. “Hyung! You actually have friends!” he hollered into the hallway. No one replied, and Jungkook and Jimin exchanged another glance when they watched Taewon laughing to himself. Taewon began to walk off, and looked back at them, which Jungkook and Jimin took it as a signal to follow him.

“Hey, slow down. You’re going to trip.” Jimin watched Jungkook in concern as Jungkook skidded past him and rushed ahead of Taewon.

Taewon turned behind at Jimin. “What’s up with him?”

“Sorry about that, he’s just worried.”

They entered the living-room, and Jungkook’s eyes fell immediately upon the figure lying on the couch so still; her cheeks flushed and her hair fanned out in every direction. Taehyung, who was knelt beside her, turned his head, and examined Jungkook’s face; his eyes nowhere else but the girl on the couch, and moved away when he came closer; Taehyung’s position at Hyunjung’s side replaced by Jungkook. Taewon sat himself down on the couch opposite, while Jimin stood a little behind Jungkook to also have a look at Hyunjung. “She’ll be fine,” Taehyung said. “She just needs some rest.”

Jimin reached over to tug the blanket further up Hyunjung’s shoulders. “She doesn’t look too good. Why did she go out when she was ill?”

Taehyung thought a while, and glanced over at Hyunjung and then at Jungkook. “She’ll explain that herself when she wakes up.”

He and Jimin both looked at Jungkook whose back was turned to them, Jungkook weaving his hands through Hyunjung’s hair to smoothen out the knots. “Thanks for looking after her. And for calling me,” he said, grateful, but at the same time too abrupt to sound grateful.

“It’s fine.” No one spoke, and not even Taewon said anything, and he interchanged between Taehyung and Jungkook; who both were watching Hyunjung, as if she would disappear if they looked away even for a few seconds. He tilted his head to the side when he saw Jungkook take something out from his pocket, and didn’t get a chance to get a full view of it.

Their dad materialised from the kitchen and into the living-room shortly later, and was surprised to see two other visitors in there, but he greeted them kindly, and they the same but with an overdone politeness, to which he chuckled at. Mr Kim squeezed Taehyung on the shoulder as he walked past. “Are these your friends?”

Taehyung was unsure of how to answer because he wasn’t sure himself. He guessed so? Perhaps not to the extent that they’d be happy and dolly together, but to the point their existence to each other was a little more significant than others. But he only talked to them because of Hyunjung, so he wasn’t sure if his sort-of-but-not-really affiliation with them was authentic. Though (and he couldn’t believe he finally thought this), he considered Jimin as more of a friend than Jungkook, but Taehyung’s dad had been referring to both when asking that question, not Jimin alone. “Sort of.” Taehyung gestured to them, ignoring Jimin’s offended look, as if Taehyung had just betrayed him. “That’s Jimin, and that’s Jungkook. He’s Hyunjung’s boyfriend. I called him over.”

Mr Kim nodded slowly, ignoring Taewon who began to sneak his way back upstairs to avoid getting himself into trouble. “Ah, I see,” and Taehyung hoped that wasn’t disappointment he just spotted in his dad’s voice.

It wasn’t very long until he had to prepare for work, and he advised them a bit more on how to look after Hyunjung, but he knew that Taehyung would know what to do anyway, and with other people keeping her company, he assured them further that she would be fine. And for the next forty-five minutes or so, the three spent it in practically utter silence – save for the few times Jimin would say something, and either Jungkook or Taehyung would reply with either a yes or no or maybe or other one-word answers. But the silence became normal, and so they waited.

Hyunjung had always wanted to cut her hair short, but throughout the time she grew up, she was always told by her adult peers that she had beautiful hair– “taken after her mom”, they’d say, or— “strong black hair that Yoon Hyunjung has—just like Soa” they’d say. And it would be a lie to say that Hyunjung didn’t appreciate those comments, her hair was probably the only thing of her appearance which was remarkable enough for other people to actually compliment her on. But she wanted to cut it—and not just a trim by two inches—but perhaps somewhere till around above her shoulders. But at the same time, she didn’t want to cut it, and although a trifling issue, the imps inside her head would constantly (pointlessly) argue over it, to the point that Hyunjung would purposely brush the thought to one side and she’d forget about it for a while. But when it came to situations such as, say, waking up on with your hair—tangled on your face and some strands of it in your mouth, with the addition of a river of drool—reminded her of it all over again.

Hyunjung blinked her eyes, adjusting to the light until her vision refocused, and just like her vision, her awareness to where she was and what she was doing there resurfaced. She closed her eyes again and sighed. In the end, she had failed to get Jungkook a gift, and she ended up sleeping. What time was it now? She turned her head to the side towards the wall clock. It was almost six in the evening. “You’re finally awake. How’re you feeling?”

Hyunjung propped herself up on her elbows. “Taehyung?”

“Guess again.”

She blinked. “Jungkook? What’re you doing here?”

He handed her the glass of water which had been on the centre table as she made an attempt to smoothen down her hair. “Taehyung called and said you had a fever, and me and Jimin came over here.”

“He did?”

Jungkook sat beside her, and his expression was serious. “Hyunjung, what were you doing outside for hours when you were ill? Surely whatever you were doing wasn’t more important than your health.” Jungkook sighed at her silence. “Hyunjung,” he said slowly, “did you go out to buy me a Christmas gift?”

Hyunjung frowned. How’d you guess? — “It’s so like you,” he said easily as if reading her mind, and then added, “and from the way Taehyung has been looking at me, I assumed it had something to do with me. Your reaction just now also confirms it.”

“I’m sorry,” she said finally, her dejection continuing to further clog her insides. Her voice was so hushed, but it was just enough for Jungkook to hear, “But I really did want to get you something.”

Jungkook didn’t say anything for a few seconds, looking at her steadily, and then encased one of her hands with both of his. “Hyunjung, I don’t expect anything of you. And whether or not you gave me a gift wouldn’t change anything. It’s not important, but your wellbeing is.” That was pretty much what Taehyung had told her earlier. Jungkook rested his head against the armrest so that his face was almost adjacent to hers. “You really got me worried for a while. Please don’t do something like that again.” Hyunjung only nodded. She’d make no promises there, because she knew herself—and probably Jungkook too, and she probably would do something like that again, but for now she’d have to try her best.

“Where’s Taehyung and Jimin by the way?” she asked after a while.

“In the kitchen, preparing something for you to eat,” Jungkook replied, looking over at the centre table; a water pitcher, bowl of water and towel, extra blanket, thermometer and other medication (which in the end, wasn’t needed, but Taehyung had brought them into the living-room anyway just in case Hyunjung’s fever was worse than it actually was, though he knew that was unlikely), on the table top. “Taehyung really does care for you,” he muttered to himself, and Hyunjung heard him.

“He’s a good friend, I’m grateful to have him as one.”

“Hmm.”

A few seconds later, the door burst open. “Hey look, the princess is awake!” Startled, Hyunjung and Jungkook turned their heads towards the door, and there, was Jimin (what a surprise), holding a plate of sandwiches in his hands and was making his way over to them, then placing the tray onto the centre table. “How’re you feeling, Hyunjung?”

“Much better, thank you.” Her eyes automatically trailed back to the door, and there they met with Taehyung’s. She watched him as he came over, and he put one hand briefly over her forehead to check her temperature.

“You’re such an idiot,” he finally said in a mutter, looking down at her, and Hyunjung blinked at him once before the corners of her lips upturned.

“I know.”

Taehyung opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out and so he closed it again. They shared a fleeting glance until Taehyung turned away to adjust the things on the table, but they were already tidy and aligned in their places. “You’re still a bit hot, not as much as earlier, but you’re still sweating so it would be a good idea if you changed clothes, preferably into shorts or something to cool you down. I’ll just get some upstairs that used to be my mom’s. They might be a little big for you but it should be fine.” He began to make his way upstairs before she could get a chance to thank him, and she peered back to Jimin and Jungkook who were surprisingly comfortable sat on the floor. She moved so they could sit on the couch, but they signalled that they were fine where they were.

“Thank you for giving up the rest of your day to be here by the way,” Hyunjung said, grateful for their company, and thought a thanks to them was also necessary.

“Nah—” Jimin shook his head— “We just kept you company here for most of the time, it was Taehyung who did mostly everything, right Kook?” Hyunjung turned to Jungkook, who stared into the space above Hyunjung’s head until he was nudged at the side by Jimin.

“What? Oh, yeah, he did, he did.” Jimin rolled his eyes and leant closer to Hyunjung, shielding a hand to one side of his mouth so only she could hear him.

“Don’t worry about him, I’m sure he’s just jealous because he couldn’t do much other than watch you sleep.”

“Jimin, I am right next to you. I heard that.”

“But it’s true and you can’t deny it!” Jungkook looked at Hyunjung who was smiling—on the verge of laughter, and when their eyes met, they both broke into chortles.

When they stopped, Hyunjung sat up, leaning forward to the centre table to get the sandwiches Taehyung and Jimin had made for her earlier, and she chewed in satisfaction. “Good thing you like cheese,” Jimin said in relief, “me and Taehyung had an argument earlier about what to put inside the sandwiches; I said ham, but he was persistent on cheese, apparently you really like them.” Hyunjung decided not to tell him she always stole Taehyung’s sandwiches whenever they were filled with cheese.

Taehyung came back later with shorts and handed them over to Hyunjung, telling her where the bathroom was so she could change. He sat down on the couch opposite the one where Hyunjung had laid down on, and the three waited. Jimin suddenly spoke, “Your mom won’t mind Hyunjung borrowing her clothes, right?”

“No. Of course she won’t.”

Throughout the time they waited, Jungkook appeared as if he wanted to say something, and he would usually look at Taehyung as he did so, but in the end he didn’t talk at all, and Jimin noticed this— “Are you okay? You seem bothered by something, you wanna talk about it?” At this, Taehyung also looked at him, and Jungkook shook his head, brushing it off.

“It’s nothing.”

Hyunjung appeared into the living-room—holding her folded jeans along with her socks—now changed into shorts. “I tightened the band, so they’re not that loose anymore,” she said, fidgeting, before sitting back down onto the couch. “I feel a little less sweaty now.” I feel a little less sweaty now?! Why would I say that? But she wasn’t lying.  

“Wow, what a surprise,” Taehyung said, “that was the point of you changing.” Hyunjung simply laughed it off.

About half an hour passed until Jimin said that his mom had texted him to tell him to come home, and he had asked if Jungkook was coming with him, but Jungkook had insisted on staying for a little longer (resulting in Jimin texting his mom back saying that he was staying a little longer), but really, it would have been best if all of them to go home, before it got dark. Jungkook had said that he could call his dad and ask if he could pick up him, Jimin and Hyunjung so they could take Jimin back to his house and Hyunjung back to hers, but Hyunjung said she’d be fine walking, and both Jungkook and Taehyung protested to this, so eventually, she acquiesced to Jungkook’s offer.

While they waited for Jungkook’s dad to arrive, they had a mutual choice in spending the rest of the time watching the TV. Hyunjung and Jungkook were sat next to each other, both concentrating on the programme playing, while Taehyung and Jimin sat on the couch chair adjacent to theirs; uninterested in the melodrama on the screen; not really seeing anything; but merely the flash and blur of the images. The sound of movement of Hyunjung shifting her position, bringing her legs up to her chest and resting her chin on top of them, had brought Taehyung back to focus.

What drew his attention, was the mark on the outer side just below her left ankle – not really a mark, but more of a small indentation in her skin, practically unnoticeable. “You okay?” Jimin asked in a whispered voice. Like him, Jimin was indifferent to the scene playing before him on the TV, and had carefully followed Taehyung’s line of gaze which, (to Jimin’s slight amusement), was Hyunjung’s foot.

Taehyung immediately shifted his eyes back to the TV screen without answering him, and Jimin let him be. But throughout the duration of the programme, Taehyung kept looking back at the same mark on Hyunjung’s ankle, as if trying to confirm something, and the third or fourth time Jimin caught him, he asked as a joke if Taehyung had a foot , and Taehyung deliberately ignored him for the rest of the programme.

Minutes before the end, there was a ringing at the door— “That’s probably my dad,” Jungkook said, and stood up from the couch along with Hyunjung who begun to gather her belongings. Taehyung, Jungkook and Jimin made their way to the hallway and to the front door so they could put on their shoes, and they heard Hyunjung call out to them to wait in the car while she got the rest of her stuff. Jimin said goodbye to Taehyung, and so did Jungkook, him also thanking Taehyung again.

Taehyung could hear Hyunjung rushing down the hallway. And at some point shortly after, he heard a clatter and presumed she bumped into one of their display vases and toppled it over, he then heard another clank a few seconds later and assumed she probably dropped it after trying to pick it up, he heard a bang against wood seconds after that, and guessed she had probably fallen over in the process.

“What’s with the rush? It’s not like they’re going to leave without you,” he called out, and Hyunjung finally emerged; her things bundled in one arm; hopping with one sock on, one sock off; nearly tripping over while trying to put on the other.

“It’s okay! I don’t think I broke anything—” she looked up at Taehyung who wasn’t convinced “… expensive.”

“I could tell,” Taehyung replied dryly.

She caught her breath, and told him, “I’ll wash and iron the shorts and then I’ll give it back to you as soon as I return from my parents’ house.”

 He slipped his hands in his pockets and his expression was serene. “You keep them.”

“But—”

“It’s fine. We have no one at home who’ll use them anyway, not anymore.”

Hyunjung wanted to reach out and comfort him, even if he appeared to not be affected at all. But who knew what Taehyung was thinking? The person who she had once thought was a pentagon may actually be a dodecahedron, many planes, many sides, and wasn’t willing to show them all – and Hyunjung wasn’t sure if he ever would. “I’m sure your mom loved you, and probably still.”

He remained indifferent, and didn’t say anything for a while. “Sometimes I like to think she does, but we don’t know that, do we? She left, what a way of showing her love. If I saw her again, she wouldn’t even recognise me.” They stood there a few moments, wordless.  

“Taehyung…” Hyunjung wanted to continue but decided against it, and instead she told him, “Thanks for looking after me, who knew what would have happened to me if you weren’t there?” It wasn’t just to fill the silence –  she really meant it.

“No problem,” he replied. “Just don’t do anything stupid like that again.”

She conveyed a small smile. “You know what I’m like,” and Taehyung drew a sigh of exasperation.

“Of course I know,” he muttered.

“And when I do, you’ll be there to make sure I don’t cross the line.”

“Of course, no matter how much of an idiot you are.”

She smiled wider at him, and put on her shoes before waving back as she opened the door. “Bye, Taehyung!” Hyunjung called, her face bright. “See you soon!” And she left him. He watched her tread along the path, past the gate, until she reached Jungkook’s car, until she shut the door. And that was when he finally looked away.

Despite Hyunjung sleeping for the majority of the late afternoon, she really wanted to sleep again. After they had arrived, Jungkook walked her to the front of her house. “Have a nice Christmas at your parents’,” Jungkook told her while he held her in his arms, rubbing her shoulders to try to keep her at least a little warm from the cold.

“You too.”

Jungkook closed his eyes and pressed his lips against her forehead. “I’ll miss you,” he murmured, and Hyunjung’s face began to get warm.

“I-I’ll only be gone for a week.”

“I’ll still miss you.”

She paused, and gathering the courage, she reached up and pressed a small, soft kiss on his nose. “I’ll miss you too.”

“Call me when you arrive.”

“I will.”

As Jungkook watched her open the door, and watched her close it, he smiled.

She hadn’t noticed. Not yet. But before she will go to bed, just before she turns off the light, she will discover that around her neck is a thin, silver chain, a small, disk-like lavaliere hanging from it; its metal links so fine that she is afraid she will break it. She will smile at its simplicity, its minimalism –  reminded of how lucky she is, and happiness will saturate every cell in her body once she turns it over. Because engraved at the back, in very fine, but distinguishable letters are the initials JJYH.

The little girl next to him halts on the swing, her feet scraping against the gravel beneath. “Huh? What did you say?”

“Let’s be friends forever!”

She blinks, and then suddenly frowns, which makes him wonder what he had done to get such a reaction. “That’s a long time,” she replies after a while, in a quiet whisper, as if it is some sworn, forbidden secrecy.

“Exactly! I want to be friends with you for a long time!”

She pauses. “But what if we aren’t friends for that long? What happens if we aren’t together anymore?”

He is shocked by this. Why would she say that? They look at each other for a while, until he stands up with his hands confidently on his sides, and his brows are creased as he tries to maintain a strong stance – as if he has the world in his hands (but to her, he looked like he just ate a lemon). “I… I-I’ll look for you!” he declares, and his friend laughs in glee – almost in relief.

“Really?” she says.

He nods vigorously. “Uh huh.”

“Promise?”

“Promise!”

“But what if you forget?”

“I won’t.”

“But if you will?”

He pauses, before telling her, “Look up,” and they both crane their necks up, squinting their eyes toward the infinite expanse of blue; their heads dizzy and spinning and whirling, and the longer they look up, the more it seems they are falling – falling into air, into nothingness, but the sky holds some sort of comfort, a peacefulness. The light is reflecting onto the huge, continuous shifting puffs and hills of clouds – bright and holy white, and they reach their hands up to touch it – to feel it’s softness, to feel it slip past their fingers, to grasp onto it, they seem so close… but actually, they aren’t, at all, they are miles away, and the ground is firmly beneath their feet. “My mamma told me, that if we look up, we’re all looking at the same sky, and the world isn’t as humungous as we think it is.”

She opens and closes a few times. “What does hu—hugumun—gious mean?”

He tilts his head at her. “Humungous? It means—” he wildly stretches out his arms until he’s straining “—extremely enormous!” She stares at him in awe, smiling so much that her cheeks are the shape of plums, and her eyes the stars.

They laugh in delight. Even if their friendship changes, if it won’t always be there, at least the sky—in their lifetime—will always be there; its presence a certainty, and to them; that, in the meantime, was enough reassurance that some things will stay the same. “Yunnie?” he finally says, “You will be my friend, forever, right?”

She doesn’t even need to think about it. She smiles, widely, so widely that he can see the gap where her first tooth had come out. “Of course!” For now, they are kids, and have nothing to worry about. But they don’t know they will forget the promise they made.

They don’t know that life doesn’t operate through rash promises or declarations; that we don’t always get what we want, that things don’t always turn out the way we want.

They don’t know that changes come by so fast and so sudden – so sudden, that, in the unlikeliest of moments, you could miss something.

They don’t know that the next time they meet, they won’t even recognise each other; that they will be next to each other in the same room and they’ll be strangers.

But yet.

The sky will remain unaltered, untouched.