“Well this is awkward,” his new boss announces suddenly, and Yoongi’s in complete agreement. The man’s authoritative presence has Yoongi feeling somewhat insecure about everything, from the way he’s dressed, to his speech, straight down to the bag of strawberries sitting between them on the table like a dividing, line shining a spotlight on the vast difference between them.

The man is seated across the dining room table, hands folded, staring at Yoongi, making him feel every bit the poor graduate student that he is. Yoongi plays with the hem of his pullover; he’s anxious, and he needs to perform some kind of activity to keep his mind calm. He nods, eyes focused on his hands hidden in his lap, fingers distressing each other, still tugging at his shirt. He feels like a student that has been summoned to the principal’s office.

“Tell me about yourself, Min Yoongi. Why are you the best person to take care of my daughter?” He feels Taehyung’s gaze, and it’s like a laser boring holes into his flesh.

It’s a great question, one Yoongi believes he would ask if he was the interviewer. It’s a great question; it’s direct and to the point, cutting to the heart of the matter. It’s a great question, a great question indeed. One problem, Yoongi doesn’t have a great answer. Why’d he ever let Park Jimin talk him into this? Oh, right... he’s broke, poor, and one step away from living under a bridge. He needs this job.

He also needs to answer. Clearing his throat, he looks up and instantly regrets the decision. Taehyung’s focused. His eyes are on Yoongi, and it reminds him of a police searchlight shining in the night sky, looking for his weakness.

“Uhm, honestly,” his mind’s not forthcoming with the miracle answer, the reply that will knock Kim Taehyung’s socks off and have the man hailing him as a modern-day Mary Poppins. So, Yoongi opts for the truth instead. After all, honesty is the best policy, right? “Honestly, I need this job. I don’t know much about children, but I am a blank slate and I’m willing to learn. I don’t do things halfway, ever. I give my all and put my blood, sweat, and tears into everything I do. I promise if you give me an opportunity, I won’t disappoint you.” He exhales roughly as Taehyung leans forward over the table eyeing him with suspended curiosity, as though he’s trying to solve a riddle.

“I’m not the best father in the world,” the man starts, and Yoongi can’t help but find the confession a little odd. “but I do my best, and honestly, it’s all I can ask of anyone. I like you, Min Yoongi. I’m normally a good judge of character, at least in the professional realm, but when it comes to the care of my daughter, well, I’ve been batting zero.” Taehyung runs his fingers through his hair, and as the strands fall back into place with ease, Yoongi wonders if he looks as mesmerized as he feels. “How about a trial run? I’m leaving for a business trip in three days and would like to see how the two of you interact. I’ll work from home for the next couple of days, and if I like what I see, I hire you permanently. Is that a deal?”

Taehyung extends his hand, and Yoongi stares at it for a moment, his mind suddenly blank as to what the action means. Luckily neurons begin to fire, and he realizes that Taehyung’s hand is still stretched in his direction. Slowly, Yoongi releases the end of his shirt and lifts his hand to clasp Taehyung’s. His heart is racing; he has two days. Two days to convince the CEO of one of the biggest conglomerates in Korea that he, Min Yoongi, a man with no childcare experience, is he’s the best person to take care of his daughter. He’s gonna need to start scoping out bridges.

“Deal,” he responds as his hand gets lost in Taehyung’s hold.

“Excellent!” Taehyung exclaims with a clap after letting go of Yoongi’s hand. The CEO picks up the brown bag of strawberries. “Do I need to wash these?” he inquires as he pulls out a fruit, plucking the stem off.

“No, uhm, the ahjumma at the stand said they were ready to eat,” Yoongi replies, somewhat dazed at the sudden shift in atmosphere.

“Nice. I love strawberries. My grandfather owned a farm when I was growing up.” Taehyung pops the ripe fruit in his mouth. “Damn, these are delicious, sweet, crisp, and with the right amount of tart. Which stand did you go to?”

“Uhm, there’s a little fruit stand outside of the grocery store near my apartment.” Yoongi waves his hand declining when Taehyung holds the bag in his direction offering him a berry.

“Ahh. Thank you for bringing these; that was very thoughtful of you. So, how would you like to do this? Would you be up to staying here for the next two days? You can travel back and forth if you choose to, but if you get the position, you’ll have to stay here while I’m away anyway.”

“You want me to move in?” Yoongi’s eyes widen, hands flying to his mouth, realizing how the statement sounds.

Taehyung chuckles.

“Well, I’m not thinking marriage just yet, but yes, I’d prefer it if you stayed here for the trial.” Heat is rising from Yoongi’s neck to his face. He holds his head down, hoping to hide his embarrassment from his prospective employer.

“Nae, I understand,” he responds to the man’s request.

“Appa,” a small voice comes from Yoongi’s left, and he turns his head on instinct.

The little girl is tiny, and Yoongi can’t help but think of a kewpie doll. Her eyes are big, bright, and curious as they land on Yoongi’s form, and the gaze holds the same intensity as her father’s.

“Ini-ah, hey sweetheart. Are you hungry?” The child nods and walks to her father. Taehyung lifts her up with such ease Yoongi imagines her to be feather light. “Ini-ah, this is Min Yoongi-sshi. Can you say hello?”

“Hello,” the child greets shyly, head buried in her father’s chest.

“Annyeong, Ini-ah,” Yoongi responds and is reward with a boxy smile.

“Yoongi-sshi will be staying with us for a couple of days so he can get to know us. Won’t that be fun? Maybe you can teach him your favorite game and introduce him to strawberry blankie, huh?”

The little girl sits up straight in her father’s lap.

“Strawberry blankie!” the little girl exclaims with such urgency that Yoongi can’t help the chuckle which escapes. He watches with a growing fondness as the child dismounts from her dad’s lap and runs down the hall.

She returns moments later, clutching a blanket close to her chest.

“It’s the only thing of her mother’s that she owns,” Taehyung informs him. The man’s voice is sharp, and Yoongi can feel the hint of pain that lingers on the edges. He’s curious about Inna’s mother, but it’s not his place to ask.

“Oh,” he responds.

“Ini-ah, look.” Taehyung moves the brown bag closer to the child, showing her the contents.

“Strawberries! For Ini?” She looks at her dad with excited anticipation.

Taehyung laughs.

“Yes, all for Ini. Uncle Yoongi brought them for you. You should say thank you.”

Yoongi’s slightly taken aback by the sudden title, but he knows it will make it easier for the little girl to bond with him. He’s thankful that Taehyung has made an opening for them to form a relationship.

“Thank you, Uncle Yoongi.”

“You’re welcome,” he chuckles, watching as the child stuffs an entire strawberry in , stem and all.

“Honey, don’t eat the stem.” The child spits the green stick into her father’s waiting palm. “She’ll be your friend for life because of this. I’m pretty confident she’d eat her w