[Warning: Some Graphic Description]

Jungkook's life had started off perfect. 

Up to the point before his little brother was born, he had everything he ever asked for.

When Jihoon was born, Jungkook began to feel his position within the family slipping to the sidelines. He was no longer the center of his mother's world. She showered her newborn baby with love and affection, and Jungkook had to be satisfied with so much as a pat on his head.

Perhaps it was his own fault for becoming a sullen child.

Perhaps he never really loved his parents to begin with.

He decided that he was only concerned as far as he was provided shelter and food. Survival was his only instinct. 

Rage was a convenient outlet for masking sadness, so he allowed his emotions to boil over as eruptive episodes. 

Noone would ever guess that his true weakness was a hollow heart.

—

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Jungkook dribbled a mini basketball in his hands across the dull concrete driveway of their picket-fence house.

Jihoon got attracted by the sound and scooted over to Jungkook's side, leaving his beloved firetruck unattended for once.

"May I try that, hyung?" Jihoon clasped his hands together in a pleading motion, making puppy eyes at Jungkook. "Please, hyung?"

Their mother exited the house with a picnic basket and beach mats tucked between her arms, ruffling Jihoon's hair on her way to loading the family car. 

"Don't tire yourself out! You can go swimming later." Their mother shook her head fondly at Jihoon. Reaching over the open car boot to rearrange bulky items on the back seat, she called out distractedly, "Let your brother have the ball, Kook ah. I'd bring another one from the attic." 

Jungkook was only 6 years old then, and he understood what sharing meant, but he didn't think he had to give his things up entirely for that.

He could see his ball becoming part of Jihoon's toy collection, which has largely grown from his whims of eyeing Jungkook's toys for their novelty, and then laying hands on them like he needed permission in the first place.

And Jungkook will eventually get the ball from the attic.

A few beats of silence later, Jungkook shoved his ball into Jihoon's estatic hands.

Seizing the ball with joy, Jihoon did little twirls with the tips of his fingers in an exercise to get the ball airborne.

The next few moments were instrumental to the first tragedy Jungkook ever witnessed in his life.

The ball maneuvered its way out of Jihoon's grasp and crashed against his firetruck, causing it to veer towards the main road and build momentum in its downslope decline.

Jungkook and his mother both witnessed Jihoon rushing to collect his firetruck amidst fierce honking from an oncoming car, and before they could even blink Jihoon's body was lying limply across the road a few metres away from where he originally stood.

Rivulets of blood fanned out in an intricate pattern like undergrowth roots laying claim on his body, binding him to a glistening red hell.