Jimin grew up in a relatively religious household,  not the type to put restrictions and use the bible as an avenue to foster hatred and preach hypocrisy, no . It’s the kind of household that acknowledges the presence of something, someone , greater than the multiple universes in existence. 

She believes someone is out there with strings, bigger, more powerful, ever-omnipotent, trying to knit her life into something of a -show at the present (stating a time frame gives her space to hope that her life will not always be  like this). 

Jimin fidgets on her rosary ring; she wears it not just as an ornament, but as a statement of faith. With that saying, Jimin also trusts the reality of miracles and carefully-curated destiny, all of these, no matter how bad they are, are meant to happen because it will lead her to far greater things. Optimism goes a long way.

“ What the actual , Yu Jimin .” Aeri gasps in her mother tongue, “ do you like getting your beaten up? Or do you have a savior complex because you did it again! ”

Jimin flinches. Aeri sounds tenfold harsher that way, because Jimin cannot, for the love of all good, understand the younger girl. Especially when the English and Nihongo start morphing like a litany of endless incoherence. “You’re a ing senior, ity-. A senior. Graduating. You’re off to college next year. And you know what?”

Jimin looks down on her feet. The lollipop Aeri carefully opened for her — before the younger girl commenced her hour-long sermon inclusive of the most creative profanities known to man — suddenly tastes metallic, “What?”

“You’re going to get expelled.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I wish I am.”

Jimin sits on the clanky chair outside the principal’s office, and Aeri looks at her helplessly. 

(This shouldn’t sound as dramatic as Jimin and Aeri present it to be, but everything in high school is dramatic, and it’s her God-given right to exaggerate at the expense of being expelled — Jimin groans. I am not going to manifest that .)

Aeri might have noticed that she has been quiet for some time so she occupies the space beside her to give Jimin something she would describe as an awkwardly poor imitation of a civilized hug (it feels serious because they aren’t the most affectionate human beings, at least not to each other). Regardless, her best friend's thoughtful attempt at camaraderie should be comforting, but Aeri’s squeezing the arm where a fist landed earlier that morning, and it’s starting to form a healthy purple bruise the size of Jimin’s palm.

“How did you know?” 

“I heard the principal talking,” Aeri smoothens the hem of Jimin’s shirt, “she said, ‘Yu Jimin, senior’, and you know how that sounds right? You’ve heard of it, haven’t you?” Aeri sighs, “she said it in that chilly-grave way, like she’s thought of burying you alive at least once during her morning coffees.”

“To be fair,” Jimin breathes out, “she talks like that about everyone. Remember when Wonbin accidentally hit her old- Corolla’s bumper? It was a disaster. Aren’t bumpers supposed to be bumped?”

“Oh yeah,” Aeri nods slowly in recognition, “damn. I’ll miss you.”

“Shut it, I’m not going away. Did she specifically say I was going to get expelled?”

“Well —”

“Hey.”

Jimin squints her eyes at the girl, her uniform is perfectly crisp, her wolf-cut auburn hair coiffed in a way that screams preppy but gay, with the waves sitting in a well-calculated position on the top of her head so it doesn’t mess up her seven — no , thirteen strands of bangs. Damn, the air she brought smells like fabric conditioner and Jimin feels a bit (an understatement!) ashamed of her current dishevelled and incredibly mauled appearance. 

(However — despite the physical damage and a large tarnish on her records that would most probably deny her college applications, if not delay — the aftermath of the troubles she renders gets her entangled with the same pretty girl every time, so naturally, Ms. Always-Look-On-The-Bright-Side Jimin is thankful.

See: Reality of Miracles and Carefully Curated Destiny, (Yu, 2024))

“Minjeong,” her voice sounds nasal, and she is glad Aeri is quick enough to remove the gauze she stuffed her bleeding nose with when the other girl rushed her towards the clinic.

“Man, would you look at the time,” Aeri sheepishly says, trying to ignore Minjeong’s presence, “oh no, I’m late for pre-calculus. I better go.”

“Pre-calc started an hour ago,” Minjeong nods, “cutting classes, again? I’ll see you in detention, later, okay?” 

Minjeong sounds so soft, and kind. Jimin gushes because who wouldn’t? 

Aeri slumps her shoulder but doesn’t complain. Jimin watches her best friend fade away towards the end of the hall, glad that she’d have someone to walk home with later. 

( Okay , maybe she was buying herself some time, because Kim Minjeong is just around her periphery — looking immaculate and untouchable as ever. And while it may be true that Jimin could throw a punch, and stand up for herself in the face of typical high school conundrums but a pretty, pretty girl with an unmatched academic standing, inclination for sports and music has always been the chink in her armour. 

A chick in her armour. Not in a degrading, cat-calling, extremely anti-feminist way, but more of a bird type of way. Baby chickens. Nuggets. Chicks. Kim Minjeong. A baby chick.

This is getting out of hand. She really has to do something about this lingering crush. Sighs. She has been saying that for the last three years and not a single thing has changed. Jimin is still, without any hint of a doubt, pathetically and irrevocably pining.)

Jimin is instantly withdrawn out of her thoughts when she notices a fist an inch away from her face waiting for her. She’s had enough punches earlier this morning to last a lifetime but if it’s from Minjeong — she feels her face heats up — then Jimin guesses she wouldn’t mind receiving another one. 

(Again, this crush is getting out of hand.)

“What?”

Minjeong opens her palm. Plasters.

“Take it.”

Jimin opens , then closes it again, “why?”

“It’s Kuromi. Look. Sinchan, too. The yellow one.”

Minjeong flips the plasters, showing Jimin the different designs.

“Oh, that’s cute.”

“It’s yours.”

Jimin blinks. 

“Huh?”

Minjeong’s attention zeroes at her for a second too long before letting out an exhausted sigh. She grabs Jimin’s wrist and opens her hand, and closes it again immediately, leaving band aids on her palm.

“Detention, later, okay?” Minjeong smiles, and Jimin chokes on her own saliva, “I talked to the principal, she’s very determined on expelling you since this isn’t the first time you’ve picked up a fight. Best believe me when I say it was really serious this time. Apparently, the guy you punched is a nephew of some —” It’s all a blur from there because Minjeong opens a blue band aid and takes a few steps forward before sitting in front of Jimin. 

Jimin huffs. Her face burns and she prays to Aeri’s forehead D.O photocard she isn’t as red as how she feels. She closes her eyes, the soft pad of Minjeong’s fingers moves gently on her face, securing the plaster on the cut above her nose. 

“However, I was very convincing,” Minjeong grins, “although, you might have to clean the bathroom on the third and fourth floors of building one and two — plus, the gym and the library, but a month’s worth of janitorial work is better than finding school on your last semester, right? And please, please , no more fights.” She looks at Jimin with pleading eyes and it reminds Jimin of golden retrievers and maltese and personally, she’s a cat person because they’re way more low maintenance but if it’s Minjeong, maybe she wouldn’t mind maintaining much.

(Girl, get up!)

“Also, we have informed your mother regarding this matter, so head’s up for when you get home later, okay?”

“God, you’re evil,” Jimin gapes.

Minjeong shakes her head, “You said that out loud.”

“On purpose,” Jimin grins cheekily, raising an eyebrow, “I have no idea why you’re doing this but,” she inches closer, bravely, stupidly so, she could smell Minjeong’s annoyingly good perfume — cedar and sandalwood — and Jimin would be damned if she denies the way it messes up her insides. She notices a stray eyelash on Minjeong’s cheekbone and fights every urge not to reach out, “how about an ice cream after detention as a thank you gift?”

Minjeong withdraws, standing up, curving in that lop-sided grin that has Jimin ogling at the window every time she passes by the student council’s office during lunch.

“No.” Minjeong shakes her head, “the principal is waiting for you inside. Go.”

“I think you just broke my heart,” Jimin collapses exaggeratedly on her seat, clutching her chest and peeking through closed eyes to see if Minjeong is still there.

“Go!” Minjeong motions her hand towards the door with slight impatience and Jimin thinks of how Minjeong’s eyebrows look impeccably perfect being scrunched like that. 

“Y-yes, Ma’am!” Jimin almost falls to her face, scrambling towards the door.

Minjeong laughs beautifully at this — with all crescent eyes and dimpled smile, face dappled with the soft glow of afternoon light and it makes Jimin so light-headed, so soft, like a puddle of goo — that she inevitably thinks of convincing Aeri to be her maid of honour because man , the love of her life us just right there.

Jimin is getting married. 

In a blue summer dress, inside their local church, on a weekend. The Reality of Miracles and Carefully Curated Destiny (Yu, 2024) has brought her to her last resort. If she doesn’t graduate, then at least she could play the role of a doting housewife, right? 

On a serious note, Jimin got an earful after her mother was called at the principal’s office that she had to ask Aeri to make sure her ears are still adequately intact on the side of her head. It was definitely the worst experience, but it’s inevitable. 

(Okay, maybe it wasn’t that inevitable, maybe if she retraced a few steps back, she could’ve prevented it, but Jimin isn’t blind, and Jimin isn’t mean enough to ignore and sit when someone is openly getting pushed around and everyone is turning a blind eye. And no, Aeri, Jimin doesn’t have a savior complex.)

But everything that has happened, including the part where Jimin asked her sister Joohyun (an eligible and only logical person to go to for advice, with perfect records and a string of accolades that got her accepted to every single university she applied for) for words of wisdom earlier that morning (the older girl only looked her dead in the eyes and said, ‘Pray .’) – all those shenanigans led her here .

Perhaps not really getting married, that was an exaggeration to the actual fact that she sees Minjeong walking quietly inside the hall in a white button up tucked in a straight-cut trouser (she looks business and seemingly means business). There is a split-second recognition when their eyes meet as she settles on the farthest back row of the church pews looking around like a lost-child.

Jimin inhales deeply. There is something evangelical about Minjeong being outside of school and inside of a place of worship. (Is she even Catholic?) She looks like an angel. However, with that information comes the painful urge to resist coming up to the younger girl and hitting her with, “ did it hurt? when you fell from heaven ?” line. 

Jimin grimaces, looking back at the altar. Still kneeling, she closes her eyes and apologizes profusely for getting sidetracked from her previous prayers.

Give me a sign , Jimin pleads, if I am going to graduate because I know I haven’t been a good lately – morally and academically-wise, but –

A tap.

Please, she continues, Aeri would be so lost without me, we need to graduate together. I need this terribly. Will I be able to graduate? My records are far from pristine but I did pretty well on physical education –

Tap. Tap.

Jimin scrunches her brows, Lord, if this isn’t you then give me the patience to – tap, tap, tap!

She groans, preparing to lunge at whoever that is only to melt indefinitely at the sight of a less-confident, more timid yet ever-so stellar Kim Minjeong, “Minjeong, hi.”

“Hi,” Minjeong clears , “unnie, are you, uh, familiar with the place? I am looking for Ms. Kim Taeyeon, something about student council stuff.” Jimin stands up, listening intently and Minjeong’s gaze shoots up, finding her face, “She mans the treasury office and I’ve been walking around and I just can’t seem to find, uh –  well. Sorry for rambling – ”

Jimin nods dusting off her summer dress, “Minjeong, one at a time.”

“Sorry,” Minjeong coughs, there’s a pretense of false bravado in there, something Jimin would have easily noticed if she wasn’t too busy gawking at how adorable Minjeong is, “Do you know where the treasury office is?”

“Yeah, come on,” Jimin grins confidently, she has been running around the vicinity of this church for as long as she can remember. A choir member and a reader ever since her mother signed her up as an attempt to follow Joohyun’s  footsteps, and now, look at her, she’s about to tour Minjeong around!

See: Reality of Miracles and Carefully Curated Destiny, (Yu, 2024).

“No, no, I think I bothered you enough,” Minjeong shakes her head, “I’m really terrible at direction, but just tell me where it is and I think I could take it from here.”

“You just confessed you’re terrible at direction.”

“Well, yeah –”

Jimin smiles, “let’s go.”

The treasury office is a good five-minute walk from where they are, and naturally, despite being compelled by the holy spirit to revel in the solemnity of the place, Jimin couldn’t help herself but try to strike a conversation that isn’t transactional, and more casual, just, you know , friend-like. Additionally, Jimin hates silence. Not that the silence between her and Minjeong is uncomfortable, she just thinks it’s a good opportunity to talk to the younger girl in a much different environment (see how Minjeong is when she no longer holds a certain level of authority).

“So,” Jimin hums, “Student council stuff, huh?”

Minjeong visibly relaxes, her shoulder slumping a little, “yeah.”

Jimin frowns at the answer, “Is it like, uh, confidential?”

“Well,” Minjeong chuckles, the softness reverberating through the dome shaped ceilings, “not really. It’s the student council’s annual project.” Jimin nods, slightly giddy at Minjeong’s unadulterated enthusiasm, “This year, we decided to do a fund-raising activity for charity. Gather enough to buy school supply packages. It’s not much, and it’s basically just a proposal, but I think it would really help a lot of kids at the orphanage for the next academic year.”

“That’s…” Jimin gasps, “admirable. And cool. Really, really, cool Minjeong. How’d you come up with these things?” She feels a surge of warmth and affection, something about her silly crush transcends towards utmost respect and admiration. Minjeong has always been deemed as a lot of things, multi-faceted and outwardly capable, but this is the first time Jimin sees this side of her. Somehow, she feels like nothing is accidental. She is meant to see Minjeong today.

“I’ve been tutoring at the church’s orphanage every Sunday and I notice most of them don't have enough supplies. While most of the kids are determined, sometimes, the lack of resources can be discouraging,” Minjeong says thoughtfully.

“You’re incredible.”

Minjeong presses her lips together, “So are you.”

“Huh?”

“Kim Minjeong?”

The door of the treasury office slightly opens ajar, revealing a small woman. Jimin feels a pang of disappointment with their time being cut short, but then Minjeong looks back at her and smiles, “I won’t be long, unnie. Will you wait for me?”

I would die for you.

Jimin nods enthusiastically, “Of course!

When the door of the office closes, Jimin walks (bounces like a little kid) towards the small fountain and sits idly. The birds are chirping, the grass is green, there are flowers blooming in between the cracks of the cemented patio – life is beautiful and any fragments of her worries about the uncertainty of getting her high school diploma is pushed far at the back of her head. Hm, I’ll deal with it later .

Whoever said that good things happen to those who wait really has it all figured out because thirty minutes later, Minjeong comes out prettily, waving at Jimin. The smile Jimin receives is enough compensation for the long-minutes she spent walking and talking to the statues built around, but then, she also gets an ice cream, a take-out, and a nice little picnic at the park? 

Just what in the world is happening?

“How was it?”

Minjeong sips on her iced coffee, “they said they’ll go over the proposal. I really have a good feeling about it, unnie,” she grins.

“That’s nice. I’m pretty sure you’d get it,” Jimin hums, “and oh, thank you for this. Free food from The Kim Minjeong? It certainly is a good day,” she teasingly pushes Minjeong with her elbow, “why didn’t we hang out sooner?”

“I don’t know,” Minjeong shrugs, there’s a tint of red on her cheeks. It’s adorable, “I guess, I’m just… really bad at approaching pretty girls,” she laughs nervously, and Jimin coos, because same.