Chapter Text

"Yo man, why haven't we seen you?" Namjoon's voice echoed from the other end of the phone right as Yoongi picked up the call. He regretted it soon after, hoping that he could turn back time so that he wouldn't pick it up on the first place.

"I'm sick," he grumbled, his voice did sound hoarse.

From the other end of the call he could hear the rustling noises at the background, the sound of people shouting and whispering. Namjoon was at Seokjin's place with the others, it seemed, for he could definitely differentiate Hoseok's scream, even from the other side of the mountain.

'He said he's sick,' Yoongi could hear as Namjoon repeated the words for the others. Before he knew it, Hoseok had screamed directly into his ear, the younger snatching the phone away from its owner only to wish him to get better. It was Seokjin who came next, asking whether he needed their help or anything, the man would be more than happy to bring some warm food to his house if it was ever something that he needed to get better.

"No, I'm fine,“ he groaned back. Somehow the phone was relayed to Taehyung this time. The boy was in the middle of saying how he missed seeing Yoongi's pouting face even though he'd only been missing for four days, before Yoongi had had enough and turned the call down.

Groaning, he tugged himself underneath the blanket, hiding himself from the world if that was even possible. A noticeable vibration from the phone disturbed him yet once again, his friends seemingly hadn't given up in pestering him. Turning the call down heartlessly, Yoongi cracked the casing open and pulled the battery out. This way, his friends wouldn't be able to disturb him anymore.

His room was dark, all with the curtains blocking what was left of the sun and the dark looming sky that awaited him outside. It was Sunday afternoon at the last week of August and summer was seemingly about to pass with the heavy grey clouds painted across the blue sky.

It was going to rain.

Again.

Yoongi had been sick for four days, that was what he said. He was indeed sick, his voice hoarse and his temperature rising, though basically he had been better for the last few days. He simply didn't have any motivation to drag himself off of his bed. At least he could hide behind the pretense of being sick for the first couple of days. Maybe he could hold this act up for the entire week, who knew?

It had been four days and his friends did appear in front of his door on Friday when he was sick for real, his mother welcoming them with a warm smile as Yoongi stayed behind locked door for the entire day, tossing and turning underneath his blanket with a burning fever. Ever since summer he had put on a lock on his door for something called privacy, which was probably a lexicon foreign to his friends' ear. Yujin came as well on Saturday, asking about him when he was still deep in sleep, the girl ended up leaving some food for him to his mother before she went away yet again.

That Thursday he stood under the pouring rain for what felt like hours, going back with body drenched and head pulsating. His whole body ached after that, his knees being the most prominent, he jut hid under his blanket for the rest of the day, skipping school at the next and did his best to fall asleep.

Because at least in his sleep he would simply forget about everything. At least in his sleep he wouldn't have to think about the fact that Jimin was in love with him.
Park Jimin, the friend that he knew for almost half a year. Someone who was nothing but a weird stranger at first. Someone whose existence slowly became a constant habit in his life, just as much as lifting his head up to see the sky.

Park Jimin was in love with him.

“,” he whispered, ruffling his hair as the scene played in his head once again, the boy's eyes filled with sorrow with the tips of his fingers touching his cheeks just faintly.

It was all the reason why he opted to drown himself in sleep so that he would simply stop thinking. So that the memory would die out in the land of his dream, where the sun was shining and everything was just flowers and pretty butterflies. Everything was just pretty girls like Minju and Yujin, blowing kisses and winking their eyes.

Just like Seokjin loves Minju, Jimin said.

Yoongi groaned again, this time flipping himself in his bed so that he could bury his face in his pillow. Maybe he could do just that, drowned himself in his pillow, suffocating himself under the weight of this fact and died.

He was thinking about doing just so, maybe even tying his bed sheet so that he could hang himself from the ceiling and commit suicide, when a thud turned his attention towards the window of his room. Turning his head around, another thud answered his assumption that someone was throwing rock at it.

“Hyung, come out!” is what he heard through the apparent hole at the window. He definitely had not forgotten about the mess his friends had made with his window back then on summer vacation. Cursing under his breath, Yoongi dragged himself to open the window, worried that his friends would make another hole at it (the last one was fixed with mere tapes across it).

“What the ?! Leave me alone!” he screamed back.

He could see four figures standing right under his window, the usual cheeky grin of Taehyung made him feel like throwing up.

“Oh, come on, you're not really sick,” Taehyung said.

He wasn't.

“I am, so now leave,” he said, shutting down the window and hid under his blanket once again.

He didn't want to do anything. He just wanted to lie down on his bed, to sleep once again or to just die.

Oddly that was what he had been thinking and feeling right now every time the memory of Park Jimin came rushing back. He felt like he wanted to die.

+.-.+

He didn't know what drive him to do what he was doing right now, but one thing for sure, his mother's scream and constant words of how he had to get his sorry back to school for whatever reason he had been moping for was one of it. It was Monday evening when he decided to slip out of his house and just walked aimlessly towards the hill, leaving his house behind, trying to clear his head.

It wasn't particularly the hill that he was heading for, but it seemed like his feet already knew where he needed to be. His knee was still aching but being a stubborn person that he was, Yoongi just ignored his joint's scream and went along with it. At this point maybe he could run away for good and his mother wouldn't mind. His friends would think that he was still sick back at home and he could just walk down the Auraji train rail until he found a passing train and hitchhiked it all the way to Seoul.

The hill had always served as his salvation, the only place for him to clear his head. He didn't know why he always found himself being here most of the time when his head was most troubled. It was the solitude that he longed for, the quietude and isolation expanding that space within his mind. That was why he occasionally brought his notebook here, only to scribble down pages worth of lyrics.

This time he was alone with nothing but his own head and Jimin's words ringing on his ear.

Jimin was in love with him. That was the fact that troubled him the most. His best friend was in love with him. It should be wrong, he knew, since they were boys. Yet Jimin wasn't asking for something more. It was Yoongi who asked for explanation and the boy had simply provided him with one, one that made everything fell into place as easy as a snap of a finger.

That was why he was angry back when he went to Jeongseon with Yujin. That was why he asked him whether he liked Yujin or not. He simply asked the wrong person. It wasn't Yujin that the boy liked.

“It was me,” he whispered to himself, ruffling his own hair, feeling like pulling them out one by one.

This shouldn't bother him, he realized. This shouldn't make him skip school for days. Jimin was his best friend and he was in love with him. It was that much of a simple fact. Yet it did bother him and he didn't know why. Did it make him loathe the boy? Was he disgusted now? Did he think of Jimin as a , a weirdo an abomination that he had to avoid?

What should he do? Should he say anything? Did Jimin even ask for anything?

Questions were swarming in his head and before he knew it, the explanation that Jimin gave him didn't make everything easier. But at the same time, there was indeed one question that he himself could answer.

What was he doing right now?

He was simply running away.

+.-.+

He hadn't show himself in front of his friend for almost an entire week and the first thing that Seokjin did was hugged him as if he had gone missing for an entire month. He showed up at school on Tuesday and Namjoon patted him on his back, saying how they were glad to have him back. He kept on saying that he was sick for almost an entire week though none of them seemed convinced, thinking that he was fighting with his parents as usual and ended up running away to god knows where.

Yujin was the first to ask about what was wrong, coming to him with eyes filled with worry. He repeated the same lie he had been uttering, earning him a pout from the girl and another message of taking care of himself better. Soon after the group crowded over him in the hallway, he started to think that maybe he had been missing from school for an entire year instead of mere days.

Yet as the bell rang and he was forced to step foot into the classroom, Yoongi couldn't ignore the beating in his own chest, the fist tightened and the sweat running on his back. His eyes went to that seat right at the other end of the classroom, wondering whether a certain someone would be occupying it. He didn't even know which would be better, having the said person turning his back to catch his own eyes or avoiding it completely.

But then again he didn't have to worry about either of those since the seat was empty. It remained so even after the teacher entered the classroom and started the lesson, making Yoongi wondered whether Jimin had been avoiding him altogether as well since Thursday, the both of them ended up being absent from the school at the same time.

Yoongi didn't know which was better. At one part, not having to see Jimin felt like a bliss since the rest of the day could go on as easy as that, he didn't have to worry about anything or even remembered the reason why he had skipped school for almost an entire week. Then again not having the boy there tortured him as well, constantly reminding him that maybe something bad had happened to him. In the end it made Yoongi felt like an because he didn't do anything at all. He simply let the boy leave that day, standing on the road until the tiny droplets of water felt like hundred of rocks being hurled at him.

Where could he be right now? Was he sick just as he was? Or was he just running away? If so how long would he keep doing that? They were bound to meet one another at the end, weren't they?

The six of them lounged as usual on their usual spot and even as smooth as the day went by, Yoongi couldn't just stand still. His friends just talked like usual, Namjoon passing along cigarettes, Jungkook refusing it, Taehyung being a usual dork. No one mentioned anything about Jimin and it made him felt even more restless. It was right as they went back to their class after recess did he call out to Taehyung, pulling the latter to the nearest corner and asked him the only thing that had been bothering his mind.

“Where's Jimin?” he asked.

Taehyung answered him with a pout. “Chimchim said he had something to take care of back at home.”

'Something to take care' seemed suspicious enough. Was it his reason not to attend school to avoid him?

“Had he been going to school since Thursday?” Yoongi asked.

Taehyung curved his eyebrow.

“Yeah, he did. He was at school back on Friday,” the boy answered nonchalantly. “What's wrong?”

Something felt off. For once, he thought that the boy's absence on Friday was something to be expected of. So why didn't he go to school today, then? Did he know that Yoongi was going? His mind was racing so much he started thinking about the stupid possibility of the two of them taking turns going to school to avoid running towards each other completely for the next half year.

Then again, Taehyung's reaction bothered him as well. For once he thought that maybe Taehyung knew. He had seen the both of them that day inside of the classroom. The two of them were close and even more so lately (though their stupid shenanigans had started since years ago). Yet here Taehyung was, looking like he didn't have a clue at all.

“Did something happen on Thursday?” Taehyung asked again.

Or maybe Jimin simply didn't tell him yet. Either way Yoongi shook his head and sighed, somehow relieved that Taehyung didn't know a thing about it. His friends knowing about what happened between the two of them was the last thing that he wanted to happen.

“No, it's nothing,” he said, brushing it off.

“You sure it's nothing?” Taehyung asked once again, his tone becoming more serious before he followed, voice a little bit more cautious. “I mean, we all know that you two are kind of like-, fighting.”

“We're not fighting,” he said again, the words coming out from his lips more like a whisper. Truth be told at this point Yoongi didn't know what the two of them are doing anymore.

Taehyung smiled and patted his shoulder before he continued. “Well, I don't know what happened between you two, but I know that Jimin just wanted to make up with you. After all, we kind of miss hanging around the two of you.” The boy flashed out his trademark smile before he walked ahead of him into the classroom, ending their conversation.

It was history afterwards and instead of snoozing or trying his best to have his eyes opened during the entire lesson, Yoongi ended up gazing at the blackboard with a blank expression on his face, his own head felt like exploding. Somehow, hearing what Taehyung just said to him make his mind race.

Min Yoongi didn't do feelings, that‘s what he had said once. An underclassman had once confessed her love to him and he rejected her with a cold heart, not caring whatsoever even if the girl ended up crying behind his back. What others thought about him was none of his business. People could hate him and he wouldn't care, that was what he had said. That was what he thought he would treat Jimin with, if hate was everything that the boy had for him just like he claimed it to be.

Yet he couldn't just stand still. That day he could just stand under the roof of the school as he saw the boy ran away from him through the pouring rain. But no, he had to run for him as well, had to push him to the ground and knocked some senses into him.

In the end it was him who felt like he was knocked down, having heard that his best friend was harboring feelings for him all along.

Maybe because Park Jimin was simply his best friend that he couldn't just let it go. He couldn't just accept the fact that the boy decided to drift away from him with such stupid excuse as hate. Now when he knew the truth, he realized that he still couldn't just let him go.

And maybe his feet knew his feelings better than him. All this time he definitely thought with his feet, not his head, because before he knew it, he had stood up in the middle of the classroom from his seat, attracting everyone's attention and definitely their beloved history teacher as well.

"Mr. Min, what are you doing?" she said, looking at him with her accusing eye.

He certainly didn't think with his head that time. It was his feet that did it all for him, as they led him to the door of the classroom in a simple walk without giving a damn whatsoever to the teacher's questions and slow murmured of the other students for his weird behavior. Even when the teacher ordered him to sit back on his seat he kept on walking, letting his feet brought him as far as the front gate of the school. What started as a walk had led to small jogs across the Auraji Bridge. Before he knew it, he had been running halfway passed the road that he used to take everyday after school with Jimin, his feet working even faster and his steps wider with every second passed. He just let himself ran without thinking, his feet certainly knew where to guide him. Even with how his knee started to ache and how his lungs felt like it were exploding inside his chest, he just kept on running before he found himself standing in front of the Park's house.

When his feet couldn't run anymore it was his hand that knocked frantically against the door whilst screaming, yelling out Jimin's name. The one who appeared on the door was Jimin's grandmother, the old Park looking concern. She didn't seem mad at all, considering Yoongi had been making quite a ruckus at her front door, calling out her grandson's name in such desperation.

“Ah Yoongi, what's wrong?” she said calmly. “Is something the matter?”

“Where's Jimin?” Yoongi asked, his own breath still heaving from all the running that he did.

Right to the mention of Jimin's name the old Park's face seemed troubled, her eyes cast towards the ground in what felt like worry and sadness.

“Jimin is a bit preoccupied right now,” she said slowly before she flashed a smile, one that spoke of apology.

Something sank in Yoongi's heart because this felt really wrong.

“Well, is he okay?” he asked. All that he wanted to do right now was to barge through the door and checked up on the boy if he could. He must be inside hiding, right? Or maybe what he feared was a reality. What if the boy wasn't there at all? What if the boy had made sure that Yoongi wouldn't be the one that had to avoid him anymore?

“Jiminie is absolutely fine, don't worry about it,” the Park said.

“Then why can't I see him?” Yoongi said back, his tone raising without him even realizing it.

No one was telling him that he couldn't see Jimin, but he started to fear that maybe he wouldn't be able to anymore. Yoongi tightened his fist, thinking about how he just stood there under the rain that day without even saying anything. He regretted it now. For once it wasn't just annoyance and frustration that haunt him. It was fear as well. What if Jimin just left? What if he returned to Seoul after all of that?

('And what would even be the problem if Jimin left him?' that tiny thought in his head said. Why should it bother him?)

“I've told you. Jimin is a bit preoccupied right now,” the Old Park answered again calmly.

“Is Jimin even here?!”

Because he couldn't just run away to Seoul. Yoongi had asked for an explanation and Jimin had given him one.

Jimin had told him about his feeling and now it was Yoongi's part to tell him his.

“Well, Jimin is-,”

The god of this universe would certainly hate him for what he did. Min Yoongi shouldn't have lost it. He shouldn't be raising his tone, especially to someone as sweet as grandmother Park who smiled with his two front teeth missing and cooked delicious dinner for his loving grandson and his best friend. Yoongi hated for what he did that time but he certainly wasn't in his own right mind as he grabbed the edge of the door, pushing the Old Park aside and went through the door in a desperate manner.

He was certainly going to hell for pushing an old lady and Yoongi did just so, forcing himself through the door, ignoring the Old Park's yelp and screamed for Jimin's name once again.

He was about to run through the stairs, going up to Jimin's room and expecting to see the boy hiding himself under locked door when a soft voice answered him from the living room instead.

“Yoongi?”

His heart stopped right there as he turned his head towards the living room, taking a few steps into the room to find the boy he had been looking for, sitting on the armchair.

Something melt inside of him. Either something melt or something just exploded. Yoongi certainly couldn't describe his feeling, but relief was one of them. It was relief washing all over him before his knees felt weak and he wanted to do nothing but just drop onto the floor right at that point. All that running and screaming had come down to him wanting to just collapse on the floor of the Park's household upon finding Jimin just right there in front of him, safe and sound.

Because he wasn't running away again. The both of them was there, looking at each others' eyes. And on top of all, Park Jimin was there. He was still in Yeoryang-myeon. He wasn't leaving him for Seoul.

Jimin was there.

“What are you doing here?” a foreign voice woke him up from his trance.

And only when Yoongi turned his head to the owner of the voice did he realize that Jimin wasn't alone. There, right in front of the armchair was a middle-aged couple who bore a striking resemblance to Jimin.

He wasn't alone. Jimin's parents were there sitting on the sofa in front of their son. “Jimin, what is the meaning of this?” said the man that must certainly be Jimin's father. Jimin inherited his eyes, that much Yoongi could tell.

Even then Jimin was still having his eyes fixed on Yoongi, the boy seemingly couldn't believe what he had been seeing. It was three seconds passed in complete silence.
“Jimin, your father just asked you a question,” this time the mother interfered, looking at her son before taking a judgmental look at Yoongi.

That day Jimin broke his promise.

He broke his promise right there, as the first hint of tear fell down the boy's face. He was just sitting there on the armchair, looking at Yoongi as tears fell down his face uncontrollably, painting his cheek wet without him trying to hide it. He just cried right there in front of his parents with his eyes still fixed at nothing but Yoongi.
Jimin just looked at Yoongi who ran all the way to find him and cried, right then and there.

Yoongi would have taken his steps forward, would have wrapped his arm around Jimin and hugged him tight. He would do whatever he could to wipe that tears off of his face like he promised him he would. He would do any of it all if it wasn't for Jimin's father, this time turning his attention towards him.

“And who are you? Why do you just barge into our residence?” he asked, his voice growing impatient. “What's happening here? Can you explain this, Jimin?” he said again, this time trying to get through his son's head one more time.

Jimin turned his head really slowly towards his own parents, his jaw opened yet no sound was coming out of it. His tears were still streaming yet he didn't even try to hide or wipe it away. And Yoongi was just there, standing awkwardly as he realized that both Taehyung and Jimin's grandmother was actually telling the truth. Jimin didn't go to school today because his parents were coming over.

“I-,” and even Yoongi found himself robbed off of his voice, his eyes still fixated on Jimin who was now looking on the ground, eyes looking hollowed as if the boy was trying his best to process what just happened in disbelief. “I'm just-, checking on Jimin. He didn't-, go to school today,” he stuttered, trying to vomit some decent explanation out of his mouth.

“I appreciate your concern but we believe that his homeroom teacher was informed about this already,” his mother said, looking at Yoongi with something that clearly spoke of annoyance and suspicion. “There's no need for you to trouble yourself with our son's private and urgent business.”

Yoongi nodded slightly, still feeling and looking dumbfounded. His eyes were quickly diverted from Jimin's parents back to the boy, watching as he was still seated on the armchair with shock written clearly all over him.

“Who are you anyway?” said his father this time.

He didn't know why, but he didn't answer straight away that time, having his eyes still on the person that mattered the most in the room to him, the person who looked as if he was just losing his mind, still not believing what he had just seen. He didn't know why but it felt as if he was waiting for Jimin to answer it for him. What were they, right now? Where they fighting? Where they still avoiding one another?

He thought that Jimin wouldn't answer but the boy slowly lifted his head to look at his parents for the first time since Yoongi appeared inside of the room. He opened his mouth and the words rolled slowly from his mouth.

“A friend,” Jimin said softly. "He was my friend."

Yoongi might have let Jimin leave that day, as he was seated on the ground, watching the boy ran away after he said that he despised him. Yoongi might have let him leave for the second time as well as he stood under the rain, watching his best friend left him with nothing but his unrequited feelings. He might have done all of that without letting the boy knew what he had to say.

He might have done all of that, but this time he wouldn't be just the one standing there with his mouth shut, looking at Jimin who went further and further away from him.

“Am,” Yoongi corrected him.

Jimin had told him about his feeling and now it was Yoongi's part to tell him his.

“I am his best friend.”