she wakes to the sound of her father’s car pulling into the driveway. rubbing away the sleep, she sits up on her bed, eyes struggling to stay open. she should go back to bed­, pull the covers over her head and ignore the sounds coming from the floor below. but eight year old jisoo is too restless and too curious to act the part of the obedient daughter so she slips off the bed, small bare feet landing on smooth wood with a soft ‘pat’. gently, whilst standing on tippy toes, the dark haired little girl opens the door to the hallway. its dark, save for the moonlight shining in from the window, casting rays of silver on the wooden floor.

jisoo, the side of her face illuminated by the light of the moon, hesitantly takes her first few steps through the doorway. the sounds from the floor beneath her increase in volume as she travels slowly down the stairs, nearing the source of the commotion. she can hear her the familiar tenor of her father’s voice, low and hushed as her mother fervently whispers. they don’t notice the child slowly descending the staircase, bare feet soft against the hard floor.

the light by the front door is on and jisoo can make out her parents and two boys she doesn’t recognize. they’re hiding behind the legs of her father, eyes wide as her mother’s voice rises in pitch. the taller of the boys winces at this and jisoo notes dark, tousled hair and thick eyebrows. he’s wearing a plain, white shirt and too short jeans. her hands travel down the front of her soft, cotton nightgown. the boy on the opposite side of her father has light, ashy hair and slightly tanned skin that seems to glow under the ceiling light. his clothes are in worse condition, ripped in places they shouldn’t be, his own long-sleeved shirt is too big for his frame.

they’re strange, odd – jisoo has never seen children as unkempt as them.

the dark eyes of the ashy haired boy suddenly find her, blank and unwavering. she flinches. her mother follows his line of sight and turns to see her clutching the handrail of the staircase.

“jisoo – “her mother is immediately in front of her, leaning dow and obscuring her view – the worry lines by her eyes are more prominent than ever. “honey, why are you up? you should be in bed.”  

she’s lifted into her mother’s arms, coddled and small, but she can’t tear her eyes away from the three figures across from her. her father stares at her and she can see his hands go to the back of the boys’ head in a gentle gesture. the girl can hear her mother let out a sigh, drawn out and frustrated but turns around anyway, allowing jisoo a better view.

“jisoo,” her father starts. there’s a very obvious pause that goes unheard by no one. then, he takes a breath. “these two boys are going to be your brothers from today onwards.”

the dark-haired one smiles hesitantly while the other averts his eyes.

jisoo learns that the older one is named seokjin and the younger, taehyung. they both share a bedroom that used to be the one reserved for guests, now it holds two single beds in place of the double. jisoo doesn’t really know how to treat them, she’s just old enough for it to be awkward during the first few weeks. the dark-haired boy – her brother, seokjin, thankfully takes it upon himself to befriend her. he tells her that he’s eleven, only three years older than her, and she’s surprised.

“why do you act so old?” asks jisoo, bare legs swinging back and forth over the edge of the porch she sits on.

seokjin blinks. lets out a laugh that’s slow in places it shouldn’t be. he turns his face away from her so all she can see are the thick strands of his hair and the back of his neck. it’s pale, and looks soft to the touch. the fabric of the shirt he wears is crisp, ironed to perfection by her – their mother. it fits him well.

“what are you talking about jisoo? i don’t.”

she frowns but lets it go for now. they sit in silence, jisoo staring off into the distance with glassy eyes and seokjin flicking through the pages of the book on his lap. it’s not exactly a comfortable silence, but it’s close enough - good enough. white, hazy clouds paint the blue sky like rabbit fur. jisoo watches them float languidly by quietly.  

in the month they have been her brothers – she has realized two things. one – seokjin is pleasant but reserved. he listens to everything their mother says, asks of him with a soft smile on his face and relaxed hands. but there are days where he just stays inside him and taehyung’s shared room by himself. when jisoo asks her father about it, all he does is shake his head and send her off. the second thing – taehyung does not like her.

there are two bathrooms in their house, one being the on suite connected to her parents’ room on the first floor and the other is the bathroom on the second floor. jisoo exits this bathroom, closing the door behind her, breath minty fresh. she doesn’t realize taehyung has been waiting for his turn until she looks up and sees his familiar mop of light, ashy hair. he’s standing stiffly, dressed in silk pajamas, a towel slung lazily over his shoulder. for a second, she doesn’t move – just blankly stares at him with wide dark eyes until he brushes past her.

taehyung shuts the door behind him, and she hears a soft ‘click’ not long after.  

halfway through the second month, seokjin and taehyung start attending the local primary school. taehyung is sorted into a different class from jisoo, and she silently breathes a sigh of relief when she hears the news.

jisoo’s mother fusses over her as she usually does, long, thin fingers fixing the collar of her shirt and the ruffles of her skirt. she stands obediently but rolls her eyes when she thinks her mother isn’t looking.

“have you got your lunch? your pencil case?”

“yes mommy.”

“what about your water bottle? and your books? did you remember to do your homework?” her mother frowns visibly, “though I suppose now is too late to ask.”

“yes mommy,” jisoo chants in response.

her mother stands back, her face is contorted in worry, something her daughter is all too familiar with. jisoo smiles brightly.

“mommy, i’ll be fine,” her soft voice echoes like she usually does.

she’s captured in a tight hug, and as she looks over her mother’s shoulder, she can see taehyung’s cold, unnerving stare. jisoo closes her eyes.

her mother breaks away, mouth curved into a smile, “off you go then, your father is waiting for you.”

jisoo nods dutifully, threading her arms through the handles of her backpack and delivering a quick kiss to her mother’s cheek when she bends down. taehyung is already gone, she hadn’t noticed at all, and she quickly follows.

as her mother said, her father’s car is waiting in the driveway. it’s engine singing a low, simple tune. jisoo can see her father sitting in the front, and frowns when she sees that taehyung is sitting shotgun. she walks over to the driver’s side and swings it open as best she can with spindly arms and small hands. her father looks at her curiously when she does so, and she wants to out him as a traitor almost immediately.

“jisoo? what’s wrong?” a line appears between his brows.

her voice drops to a hushed whisper, still able to be heard she realizes when taehyung turns his head away and stares out the window.

“daddy, i always sit in the front,” she presses, feeling both betrayed and heartbroken.

she doesn’t feel at all placated when her father places his large hand on her head but nevertheless, lets him do so. he glances at the boy sitting next to him for a moment.

“i know honey, but tae gets carsick easily,” her father fixes a sympathetic gaze at her.

tae? she feels her face heat up and doesn’t even try to hide the frown that’s begun to settle on her face.

“but dad – “ a whine has overcome her voice and her father’s expression darkens slightly.

“jisoo, we are going to be late. just,” he takes his hand from where it had been resting on her head and places it on the steering wheel. “just get in the back, okay? we can talk about this when we come home.”

her eyes begin to sting, tears threatening to overflow. she bites her lip and sniffs.

jisoo decides then and there that she hates taehyung.

she slams the door shut, and she sees seokjin jump in his seat in the back. the girl stomps to the other side of the car and flings the door open. she hears her father sigh. when she settles into the seat, her backpack in the space between her knees and the back of taehyung’s seat, her father pulls out of the driveway.

the drive is cloaked in uncomfortable silence.

minutes turn into hours, into days, into weeks and months until jisoo is fourteen.

“happy birthday ji-chu,” seokjin tells her with a wide smile on his face as he pushes a wrapped box into her arms.

she grins, a dollop of cream from the birthday cake still lingering by the side of her lip. jisoo thanks him brightly, looking at him with endeared eyes and soft upturned lips. the present is wrapped neatly, pale lavender with an oversized white ribbon. she undoes the ribbon, it isn’t tied too tightly, and hands it to seokjin who laughs at her.

the wrapping paper, as pretty and shiny as it is, she doesn’t care much for so she discards it quickly. a small box sits in her hand, white and simple. its smooth to the touch, save for a little bit of bite. across from her, seokjin stands, smiling gently.

her heart tightens.

thin, manicured fingers gingerly pry open the lid. she’s not sure what she expected, jewellery? a pair of diamond earrings (where would he get the money for it?), a silver bracelet? or perhaps something made by his hands? her face falls when she sees what sits in the box.

“really oppa?”

he snorts, doubles over, almost wheezing.

nestled on a plush cushion is an i.o.u. a hastily written i.o.u in black sharpie on a pretty white piece of card. jisoo looks up to see her brother’s massive shoulders move up and down as he tries his best to control his laughter. at this point, because of the sheer ridiculous of the situation, jisoo too has started to giggle. nevertheless, she still hits him over the head a few times with the box.

“why! are! you! like! this!” she punctuates each word with a well-aimed hit. she’s much shorter than him, but that doesn’t stop her. “you’re going to be an adult next year, seokjin-ah!”

he cowers from her, whilst still shamelessly chuckling, “what happened to ‘oppa’?”

“oppa’s reserved for big brothers! right now – you’re more like a little kid,” jisoo bites back, finally ceasing her relentless attack. she stands back, crossing her arms across her chest and directing a frown towards him.

upon seeing her pout, seokjin stops laughing, instead placing a warm hand on her head. he grins at her cute scowl – even ‘upset’ jisoo was still as pretty as always. she averts her eyes elsewhere.

“here, open your hand.”

“what? are you going to slap it?” he’s done it before, she wouldn’t put it past him.

“just do it.”

jisoo rolls her eyes but obeys, holding it so that the palm faces upwards. she feels him place something cold and hard onto her skin. its light, but still weighty. when she finally looks at it, her breath hitches.

“do you like it?” seokjin asks softly.

she’s at a loss for words. what could she possibly say? its beautiful, a silver bird dangling off a soft, equally silver chain. its small, delicate and she feels that even if she gently picks it up - she’ll break it.

her brother speaks then, a quiet, flustered tone taints his words – the one he uses when he’s embarrassed, “its not much – not expensive either, but i thought it would suit you.”

jisoo still can’t bring herself to speak, her eyes still fixated on the delicate thing resting in her palm. seokjin seems to grow worried, leaning down slightly until he’s at her eye level.

“jisoo?”

she looks up at his big, dark eyes, his plush looking lips and handsome nose.  he’s no longer the boy in too short jeans from six years ago, standing by her front door, illuminated by the faint light of the moon. now, seokjin stands before her much older, much closer. her heart thrums in her chest.

“can you put it on for me?” she looks down at her feet, they’re bare on the cold tiles of the kitchen floor.

when she turns her attention back to seokjin, he freezes. then hurriedly looks away. jisoo doesn’t notice that his ears are the faintest shade of pink.

“…sure, turn around.”  

she does as he says, moving her long, dark hair out of the way and allowing him easy access to the nape of her neck. neither of them says a word as he takes the necklace from her offering hand and brings it around the front. jisoo holds her breath, doesn’t trust herself as she feels his arms around her, bathing her in a warmth that is both foreign and familiar. seokjin fiddles with the hook for a moment before finally stepping away.

he turns to face her with a pleased smile. reaching over, he tucks a lock of dark hair behind her ear.

“it looks good on you, jisoo,” seokjin says to her with a gentleness only he can possess, and she blooms.

she walks up the stairs to her bedroom after bidding her parents goodnight. seokjin has retired to bed earlier, and she has no idea where taehyung is. not that she particularly cares. he’s anything but civil to her. jisoo shakes her head – it’s her birthday, she owes it to herself to not think about unpleasant things such as expired food and bad brothers. when she reaches the top of the staircase, her face immediately falls.

leaning against the wall by the balcony rail is taehyung. he had been almost absent for her birthday party – nothing particularly unusual but irked her nevertheless. she had always tried her hardest to be there for his, even going out of her way to pick out gifts. she doesn’t label them, knowing he would never accept them if they were from her.

he looks up when she passes him but she doesn’t even spare him a glance. she’s allowed to ignore him, its her birthday after all. jisoo twists the handle to her room, opens it gently and just as she’s about to close it behind her – a low voice speaks.

“happy birthday.”

she turns to look at him – for the first time in years. his ashy hair is slightly longer, still as soft looking and his skin a little tanner. even though they’re the same age, he’s taller than her. shoulders are broader, hands are larger – she supposes that’s to be expected.

a lot has changed.

jisoo casts her gaze elsewhere.

“thanks.”

she shuts the door tightly.