I was in a nearby kindergarten back then and I remember so well when I first met him and when I started to hate him. I was about 5 years old and I was going to start junior high soon. I wasn’t the typical cute girl. I wasn’t grown loving dolls, but with a peculiar passion for Basketball. It was so strange for others, but not for me. It was so fun watching on television those tall men running for a ball.
“I want to play too!” I screamed jumping on my feet, trying with all my strength to take back the ball he stole from me. He laughed with his friends passing my ball from an hand to another, above his head.

“Girls shouldn’t play to basketball.” He sang happily while tears wet my eyes, I was kicking as my voice cracked in a off-key cry. He was such a tease, always kidding me because of my height or because I was a little bit chubbier of my friends.

His face was covering the sun so I was able to see his pleased expression. “I want to play basketball too!” I cried out, scratching your burning eyes and sniffing with your little nose. He laughed again bouncing the ball on your head and making your cry even more loud. Loud enough to draw attention of my teacher.
“You might be used as a ball, shorty.” He laughed, patting my head and going away as soon as the teacher was approaching to us. At the same time my best friend came closer.
“Let him play, ______, I will take back your ball later, ok?” Her melodic voice made me feel better right away. I nodded with my head as the teacher looked at me with her arms crossed.

“What happened, _____?” She asked, wiping my tears away. 
“He stole my ball, miss.” I said pointing at Jimin, which was happily playing with his mate.
“Stole is a bad word.” She admonished me, taking a issue from her pocket and squeezing my nose. “But it was he did! I swear!” I cried out.
“He’s a good child, he would never steal your ball. Maybe you don’t want him to play?” 
“I don’t want, b-”
“You should share your toys, _____!” She said patting my head. It was always the same story. I was the problematic child in that kindergarten and I remembered how many times children made fun of me without taking a punishment. 
Right now I couldn’t remember why I was the problematic one, maybe because I wasn’t the kind of girl who played clean, I didn’t care much to dirty others’ cloths. Or maybe I wasn’t so good at doing your tasks, preferring playing around. 
Well the problem was Jimin was considered an angel. He always made others see his perfect side, his caring side, it was so lame.

My friend patted my shoulder again and she hugged me asking me to play with her with her new doll. Her name was Jina and she was the total opposite of me. She was my best friend and she was the kindest person I’ve ever met. Most of the times I felt really boyish just by looking at her. She had long hair, black like the darkest pitch. Her eyes were so dark and perfectly framed by her pale and smooth skin. She was taller than me and her body was so slender, since we were both children, she didn’t have any particular formed shape, but her body was beautiful. She always had a strawberry scent and it was really nice hugging her, breathing her good smell.

Her character was the kind of most of the children of our age hated. Not hated, a child can’t really hate at that age but they were so uneasy next to her. She was always alone if I wasn’t there. Actually, since my character is the total opposite I was often left alone as well, they were afraid I could have hurt them with my jokes. We were a perfect couple.

She was his sister. Exactly, she was Jimin’s little sister and I always wondered if they came from the same hole. He may have seemed the same of her when he was in front of others, but when he had to play with me he was the most devilish child I’ve ever met. I were like a mosquito for him and he was just too annoyed from you. 

That day was the day I decided to hate him, he was the guy I hated the most, for sure.