Youngmi did not turn up the next day. Or the next day, or even the day after that. In fact, it was entire week of sitting by himself when Jungkook finally brought himself to look at the empty seat beside him, and actually consider the fact that she might not be coming back. His gaze shifted when he heard a snicker come from in front of him, and saw Jimin’s smirk afterwards.

“Miss your girlfriend?” He mouthed.

Jungkook didn't say anything and turned away from the boy, letting his eyes fall to his hands, twiddling them together as he thought.

Why was he so bothered by her not being there?

What was she doing to him?

He had no idea of the answer to any of these questions, and there was only one way to find out.

He had to ask her.

And, by luck or just complete coincidence, the sound of the door clicked and Jungkook looked up.

As always, Choi Youngmi was there to surprise him.

~~

It was as if what happened a week ago never occurred. Her face, a week ago bloody and cut, was now perfect (or as perfect as it was before Jimin happened). Not a scar or scratch in sight.

Jungkook caught Jimin's facial expression as Youngmi walked past him, it was just as surprised as his. As she took her seat, he expected her to ignore him, to do anything but say or do anything to him.

Again, Youngmi surprised him.

“How are you?” She piped up from beside him, once the class had gotten over the shock of her stepping foot in the school again. It was no secret what had happened, it had spread around the school like wildfire that the new girl had got on bad terms with Jimin already and gotten herself beaten up. Jungkook had ignored all the whispering about it and glared at those he heard talking about it.

Jungkook could barely speak. “H-How am I?” She nodded. “I’m… Fine?”

There was a pause before she spoke. “That’s good.”

Silence ensued, until Jungkook couldn’t stand it any longer.

“Where’re the scratches, marks? What Jimin did to you?”

She stared at him blankly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“But- You were- agh.” His accusation was cut off by the weight on his chest. It had been gone for a while, but clearly not forever. His hand clawed at his chest, gasping and trying to stop the pain. It was becoming unbearable, and his vision was blurring.

Until her voice brought him back.

“Stop.”

He just stared at her, blank, unmoving. “What are you?”

“I am your seatmate.”

~~