29: SHATTERED

"Dive," by Ashmute

                Yoongi staggered at Namjoon’s words, almost as if he had been stabbed. Namjoon realized, belatedly, that it might not have been a good idea to blurt out the brutal truth so quickly.

                “It was a pretty clean wound, actually, but he bled a lot, so I kept him here for a while. The stupid kid, he refused to go to the hospital. I don’t think he wanted your dad to find out—”

                He couldn’t listen any longer. Yoongi spun around and stormed out of the hut without another word, slamming the door behind him.

                Namjoon was left behind, messaging his temples, gazing at the ground below him. There was no telling what Yoongi would do now, where he would go, or when he would see him back in that same room…or if he see him at all.

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                It had been barely a full forty-eight hours since Jungkook broke into, or attempted to break into, that jewelry store. He was sitting on his bed, trying to focus on the piles of homework he needed to catch up on and doing his best to ignore the pain that made his muscles tense every time he shifted his position a little.

                It was hard to focus on anything. When his body wasn’t distracted by the pain, his mind had plenty to be distracted with: Juyoung, Bul-ui Agma, the gun he had fired aimlessly...which was still sitting in his backpack, just across the room. He didn’t really know what to do with it. If he threw it away, someone might find it. But if someone found him with it….

                Jungkook’s head fell into his hands and he let out a long groan.

                Just then, the sound of the front door opening reached his ears. That was strange.

                “Eomma,” he called. “Are you home early?”

                He heard shuffling and footsteps in the hallway, but received no other reply.

                “Eomma?”

                The sounds continued, and a wave of anxiety swept over Jungkook. It couldn’t be…but…

                He hopped off his bed and went to the bedroom door, slowly turning the knob and trying to crack the door open just enough so that he could peak out without being seen. A young man—obviously not his father—was bending over by the door, messing with something he couldn’t see. Jungkook frowned. The person straightened slightly, and his head of green hair came into view.

                Jungkook’s throat went dry.

                “H-hyung…what…what are you d-doing here?”

                Yoongi tottered as he unbent his back completely, feet scuffing against the ground while he attempted to stand up straight and face Jungkook. Recognition settled in his eyes. A slow, unnatural grin spread its way into his cheeks.

                “Jungkook-ah,” drawled Yoongi, letting out something in between a snort and a chuckle. He staggered over to where Jungkook stood and landed a hand on his shoulder, clutching the muscle there. “My dear, dear dongsaeng.”

                The grip on his shoulder made Jungkook cringe.

                “Hyung…you’re drunk—”

                “Drunk?! D-drunk? Yah, you don’t know the beginning of drunk!”

                Jungkook tried to pull away, but Yoongi caught him by both shoulders this time. He pulled his face up to his half-brother’s. The fumes filling Jungkook’s nostrils made him recoil, but it was the look in Yoongi’s eyes that made him shiver: black, vacant, with just a tiny sparkle, challenging Jungkook to make a move—whether to spit in his face or snivel away, he couldn’t tell. Jungkook refused to do either.

                Finally, Yoongi pushed Jungkook away with a shove to his chest, making the younger boy fall backwards. His older brother looked down at him with contempt as he struggled to get up.

                “I heard you took a little field trip the other night.”

                Jungkook said nothing, but he could already feel his bottom lip trembling.

                “Did you do it for fun? Huh? You like playing with guns? Or did that bastard Juyoung make you do it? Maybe it was Sa Hyeo Pa, or maybe the old boss, huh? Maybe it was Satan himself! What a troublemaker, that one. Aigoo, look what he did to you.”

                Yoongi was swaying again. He had to lean against the arm of a sofa just to keep himself upright.

                “Didn’t you learn anything from me?” he whispered, looking to the floor. His head shot up suddenly, eyes shooting at Jungkook’s like arrows. “Well?! Didn’t you?! Abbeoji probably thought it was enough having one useless son—too bad for him, he’s scored two, now!”

                With this Yoongi let out a wheezing chortle, as if he was losing his breath from laughing. By the time he finished, he had both hands on the sofa, and was bent over, shaking.

                “But you know, he deserved it…the bastard…”

                His head whipped over to look at Jungkook again.

                “You.” He pulled himself away from the couch’s support and began to stumble over to Jungkook, gaining speed as he went. “You. Y-you’re just…what?” He flung his hand out in a questioning gesture, almost whacking Jungkook in the process. “You’re just gonna stand there? You don’t have anything to tell me, you little punk? Speak up, for God’s sake, you’re driving me freaking crazy!”

                As he spoke, Yoongi grabbed a cup from a nearby table and flung it away from him, contents spilling as it flew. But this did little to quench his rage, so he swept his arms across the tabletop, flinging the objects to the floor.

                He was going to destroy something. Hurt someone. Jungkook clenched his teeth and grabbed his brother by the shoulder. But Yoongi immediately pulled away, twisting his body in the opposite direction and shaking his arm, as if offended by the touch. He was quickly losing it. A moment later he was bent over mouth opened wide, letting loose a virulent scream.

                Jungkook dove for his brother as if to tackle him—then he wrapped his arms around him. He held on like he was holding onto a soul trying to slip away. If he let go, he might just dissolve with the dust sifting to the floor. So, he held on, as tightly as he could, squeezing his eyes shut, refusing to let go.

                “Hyung,” he mumbled shakily, “I missed you.”

                At this, Yoongi snorted. He flung his head backward and laughed loudly. Jungkook felt something in his chest tighten. His tightly closed eyelids itched. No, he couldn’t start crying now. He couldn’t bare that.

                Yoongi took advantage of Jungkook’s distraction, pushing back, shoving against his brother’s shoulders with a force that sent his back slamming into the wall. The impact hit close to Jungkook’s wound, sending pain shooting through his nerves. He hissed and ground his teeth together. Yoongi just stumbled backwards, panting, observing his work with an indifference that made Jungkook’s blood boil.

                After all this time, nothing had changed.

                Before he could make another coherent thought, Jungkook was lunging at his brother. Yoongi’s tongue shot out and the corner of his mouth a second before the fist slammed into his face. There was something a little more than just saliva that flew out of Yoongi’s mouth. His hands hit the floor, hard.

                “You’ve gotten stronger,” said Yoongi, mouth hanging open, dripping with red. “You little punk.”

                Jungkook said nothing, but grabbed Yoongi by the edge of his jacket and pulled him up. Yoongi tried to keep his head down, but Jungkook caught sight of his eyes nonetheless. He was shocked by the change that had occurred in them. They were downcast, quivering, giving away the emotions he had held back so well at the beginning. With a throb that made his heart ache, Jungkook realized that Yoongi had come here looking for a beating.

                Yoongi decided he needed to make his escape. He grabbed his brother by the cloth of his shirt and flung him to the ground, just against the sofa. This time, the rim of the sofa slammed directly against Jungkook’s injured side, and he knew he wouldn’t be getting up so easily this time.

                He looked up just in time to see Yoongi grab a chair and fling it against a mirror hanging against the wall. It shattered, and with that, Yoongi was gone.

                Jungkook didn’t move from the place where he sat for a long time. His eyes glazed over, envisioning memories from years past, when the room had been filled with all of the old hyungs, the ones who really cared about him. He tried to imagine them there again, together, playing around and having fun. The image slipped away almost as soon as it had come, and he was left alone with only the realness of his pain and broken glass on the floor.

Author’s Note

Well that was lovely, wasn’t it?

Nah, it totally . But you know what didn’t ONE HUNDRED (and one!) SUBSCRIBERS YEAHHHHHHHH.

I’m honestly really touched that anybody wants to read this overly emotional and really personal story of mine. But I’m not going to complain! Nope, in fact, I would like to say………………………..thank you soooooo much!!!!!!