Summary: Jimin didn't know what he was fighting for. And then he kind of did.

Jimin

            I didn’t know what I was fighting for.

            Day after day, always riding solo, always finding some mad, drunk dude and picking a fight with him. ‘At least have the intelligence to find a gang’, my sister would’ve said.

            Well, she’s gone now.

            I could survive perfectly fine on my own, despite what she thought, despite what my parents thought. I won most of my fights, aced most of my tests, and the guy I was living with, my sister’s boyfriend, was decent enough.

            At first, I was fighting for my family. Then it got out of hand. Like an addiction. Like I was addicted to pain.

            Weekdays consisted of school, work and then multiple fights, the number of the latter depending on the choices of opponent I made. Weekends were spent at work teaching dance and singing, and fighting some more.

            Each and every day, I brushed off the questions about my wounds.

~

            It wasn’t my fault, I tried to say.

            Ha. Not like they would listen anyways. The gang code was pretty straightforward – one of your members gets beat up bad, you hunt down the perpetrator and beat him twice as bad. And the guy I faced just a few days ago was twisting around and hacking out blood when I was finished with him.

            Never mind that the guy tried to steal my food from my grocery bag. The solo rider was always the one at fault.

            And thus, I found myself in an alleyway, surrounded by several older, crude-looking men, all making a show of cracking their knuckles and rolling their heads around, waiting to see who would hit me first.

            It was the leader. Obviously.

            The leader was probably more brains than brawn, as I pummeled him down pretty easily. But then the other members closed in, the taller, stronger, probably faster members, swinging fists and legs from all directions, and I had no choice but to close my eyes, cover my head and brace myself for the pain.

            And it came like an avalanche.

~

Jungkook

            I found him whimpering in the corner of an alleyway, curled against the wall and cradling his multiple wounds.

            Dropping my bags near the mouth of the alley where shadows would conceal them from any thieves, I rushed over to the hunched figure surrounded by blood and covered in bruises and cuts.

            “Oh, my God,” I said softly, kneeling before him and gently nudging his shoulder. “Can you talk?”

            The figure stirred. “Ouch.”

            With a sharp intake of breath, I quickly pulled my hand away. “Sorry. What the hell happened here?”

            The guy extended his finger at where I’d left my stuff. “My phone’s there. Can you grab it?”

            “I have a phone, I can call 119-" I was saying before the guy interrupted me.

            “Don’t.” He in a shallow, painful breath. “Please don’t.”

            “Okay...” I got to my feet hesitantly, surveying the damage around me. Holy . No wonder this guy was so beat up. “But seriously, you need to go to the hospital-"

            “Just get my phone, dammit!” The stranger said, dangerous anger mixed with extreme pain filling his voice.

            “Okay...” I said again, quickly hurrying over to the corner the stranger was pointing at. Sure enough, beside my bag, a silver rectangular object was lying on the concrete, safe from harm. I picked it up, walked over to where the stranger was still curled up against the wall, and held out the phone.

            The guy offered a gruff thanks before taking it, and I couldn’t help notice it was with trembling fingers that he unlocked his phone and checked the time.

            “Okay...” he said, the relief strong in his voice. “Okay.”

            I had a sudden idea.

            “Come home with me,” I blurted out. “If you aren’t letting me take you to the hospital, at least let me take care of you until you can get up again at the very least.”

            The stranger let out a delirious ‘ha’. “Just go away. I’ll be fine in a few hours. And forget any of this ever happened.” He met my eyes for the first time since I saw him, and I almost recoiled at the mixture of negative emotions curling around in the depths of his dark eyes. “I’ll be fine in a few hours,” he repeated, as if he was trying to convince me.

            As if he was trying to convince himself.

            I held up my hands, knowing from a lot of experience that early surrender was the best way to get people to do what I wanted them to do. Because they all caved in eventually. “Fine. You know what? I will do that. I’ll just go off on my way, forget completely about what happened here, and leave you to your injuries, some of which will probably cripple you forever if you don’t let me fix them.”

            He scoffed. “Sure. Go ahead.” But I could hear the hesitance in his voice, and I knew that he was going to give in soon.

            And he did, when I was bending down to pick up my bags and starting to think that maybe I was wrong and that he wouldn’t cave in.

            It was just one word.

            “Wait.”

Jimin

            I woke up the next morning to the sound of my ringtone.

            Groaning, I blindly reached my hand towards the sound of the noise, closing my fingers around the metal object and sloppily pressing the ‘Accept’ button before holding it to my ear.

            “Hello?” I asked sleepily, rubbing my eyes with my free hand.

            “PARK JIMIN.” I recognized my sister’s boyfriend’s angry voice, and immediately knew I was screwed. “WHERE THE ARE YOU?! I’VE BEEN LOOKING FOR YOU EVERYWHERE!”

            I winced. “Sorry, hyung. I- I kind of got into a fight – and I know you told me not to, but it wasn’t my fault this time, I promise – and I passed out and now I...” I looked around, realizing that my surroundings were completely alien to me. “I don’t know where I am... But don’t worry!” I said hurriedly when I heard a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line. “I’m pretty sure I’m safe... I mean, my wounds are all bandaged and my ribcage doesn’t hurt half as much anymore...”

            Hyunseung sighed. “Okay. As long as you’re safe. Do you know how worried I was when you didn’t come home?”

            I winced, a tidal wave of fresh guilt weighing my heart down. Of course. That’s exactly what happened when Jiyoon disappeared.

            "She’s out there somewhere,” I promised, like I always did when I knew he was missing her. “She wouldn’t just abandon you like that, okay? She loved you. Still does, wherever she is.”

            “I know,” he said, his voice thick with exhaustion and pain. “I know. Listen, I have to go back to work now. My lunch break is almost over. Call me if you need a ride, okay?”

            “Okay. Thanks, hyung. Sorry again. Stay strong,” I said before the line went dead.

            Wait. Lunch break?

            I scanned my surroundings for a clock, and found a modern black and white one mounted on the far wall. Sure enough, it was noon – 12:58. I sighed, leaning back against the wall. Thank God it was the weekend.

            I took the time to take in my surroundings. I was lying in a simple bed with white sheets, a cool towel stubbornly sticking to my forehead. Sure enough, my wounds were all bandaged up, and the exploding pain in my ribcage was reduced to a dull throb. The average-sized room was pretty simple – dark wood furniture, black-and-white appliances – and consisted of a dresser, a bed, a bedside table, a working desk and a chair. Caramel-colored wood panelled the floor. The ceiling was slanted, and there was a single high window above my head. I was pretty much the only living being in the room, bacteria, stray ants and other things aside.

            Just then, the door opened to reveal a tall and stately but warm-looking woman carrying a tray of steaming soup. Smiling when she saw that I was awake, she quickly made her way over to the bed, carefully balancing the tray.

            “You feeling okay?” she asked quietly, removing the towel from my forehead and replacing it with a fresh one. “Can you eat by yourself?”

            Frowning in thought, I carefully lifted an arm to test it out. I did the usual things – rolling the shoulder and wrist, bending the elbow, flexing the fingers – and found everything pretty much painless. I tried it out with the other arm, and other than a sharp, short burst of pain when I tried rolling my shoulder, the result was the same. “Yeah, I think so.”

            The woman’s smile grew warmer. “Good. Oh, and Jungkook wants to see you.” She tapped her nose and winked. “I think you should thank him.”

            Jungkook...?

            The woman left, leaving the soup on the bedside table with all the utensils needed. I stared at the bowl of steaming broth, questioning whether I was really safe here or if the woman just planned to drug me and send me into human trafficking.

            “You can eat that, you know,” a familiar voice said from the doorway, making me jump about a foot into the air.

            “Jeez, you scared me,” I said, looking up to see the guy who found me in the alleyway yesterday. I barely remembered anything, but I was pretty sure he had to carry me back to his house. “Is this your place?”

            “Yeah. Guest bedroom, actually.” He pulled a chair up to my bedside and sat on it, rolling his shoulders. “You should thank me. I had to carry your unconscious ten blocks.”

            I huffed, feeling slightly guilty. “Well, it was your choice.”

            He grinned. “So, are you going to drink the soup or not?”

~

            His name was Jungkook. And the woman who’d brought me soup was his mom.

            Since my injuries were pretty severe, I had to stay at his house for one more day, which I spent reassuring Hyunseung that I was fine over the phone, drinking soup, doing homework and chatting with the occupants of the house – which were Jungkook, his mom, and their cat. I found out that Jungkook was actually two years younger than me, that his mom worked as a nurse at the local hospital, and that their cat jumped on your crotch by means of waking you up.

            They didn’t talk about Jungkook’s father. I didn’t question anything.

            Jungkook was pretty good-looking, I had to admit. He had dark hair with gold streaks, big eyes, fair skin and balanced features. He was a bit taller than me – everyone was, damnit – and liked the same things I liked.

            Sunday evening after dinner, Hyunseung came to pick me up.

            Jungkook’s mom let him in. The moment he saw me, he tackled me into a giant bear hug.

            “You idiot,” he said, trying and failing to sound angry at me. “You idiot. You’re so lucky you didn’t find yourself in the back of a van with a sock stuffed in your mouth.”

            I laughed, patted his back, and told him he was hurting me.

            He pulled away sheepishly and moved on to Jungkook’s mom, who was standing in the corner with a little smile on her face. He bowed about five times, thanked her twice as much, and shook her hand vigorously.

            Then Jungkook came down to see what the commotion was all about, and Hyunseung’s features froze.

            “Holy... Jungkook?” His eyes were wide, his body rigid.

            I looked up at Jungkook, standing on the second-last step with the same expression as Hyunseung. “Jang Hyunseung,” he said simply. “Jang Hyunseung.”

            And then they launched themselves at each other.

            “Oh my God!” Hyunseung yelled, pulling Jungkook into a friendly headlock. “How long has it been?”

            Jungkook laughed with glee, slapping aimlessly at the forearm locked around his neck. “Three years,” he choked out, grinning from ear to ear. “Where have you been, hyung?”

            “Everywhere and back,” he said simply, letting go of Jungkook to hold him at arm’s length. “Like I promised.”

            “Like you promised,” Jungkook said, suddenly quiet, his features both sad and ecstatic. He turned to me, some of the laughter from before echoing in his eyes. “Jimin, how do you know him?”

            “He’s my sister’s boyfriend,” I answered, still kind of overwhelmed at the exchange I’d just witnessed. In the two days I’d spent here, I’d grown to believe that Jungkook was a wise-beyond-his-years, straight-A, calm, slightly-boring guy. Sure, he made good jokes sometimes, and sure, he laughed, but I’d never really thought that he could be just another average teenage guy with average teenage friends, joking around and wrestling each other and laughing. “How do you know him?”

            “We were in a dance crew together,” Hyunseung answered, slinging an arm around Jungkook’s shoulders. “Everyone argued from time to time, and eventually everything just kind of... fell apart. Jungkook and I were the only ones who left the group without any hard feelings. Everyone else?” He laughed nervously.

            “Let’s just say I’d rather not encounter any of those guys again,” Jungkook agreed, slipping out from underneath Hyunseung’s arm. “Anyways, I would love to catch up with you, but I kind of have school tomorrow and I need to do some last-minute studying for exams.”

            “Of course,” Hyunseung nodded, walking over to where I was standing. “Can you walk by yourself, or...?”

            “I’m fine,” I reassured him. Pulling my shoes and jacket on and stepping out before Hyunseung, I gave a final wave goodbye to Jungkook and his mother before Hyunseung closed the door. As we walked towards the car, I dimly heard Jungkook’s mother shouting at him for lying to her that he was already finished studying for his exams. I also heard ‘new video game’ and ‘allowance’, and grinned to myself in the passenger seat.

            “He really is just a regular teenager,” I said when Hyunseung shot me a quizzical look from the driver’s side.

            He chuckled in agreement, and pulled out of Jungkook’s house’s driveway.

~

Jungkook

            I had a dream about Jimin that night.

            It was a weird dream, not anything significant. He was just... there. Sitting in bed. Refusing to drink soup because he feared Umma had put poison in it. Just us arguing back and forth for what seemed like an hour until I woke up.

~

            I saw him everywhere. And I meant everywhere. Not in hallucinations or anything. Physically there, in the background chatting with a group of friends, behind a cafe window, browsing clothes in a hip hop store. The exchanges between us were short – just a brief nod of recognition, maybe a small wave once in a while. Sometimes, when I was bored, I would go up to him and ask how Hyunseung was doing, to which he replied with an update on his schedule, his dancing, his love life (although he was a bit sensitive around the last topic, I didn’t know why). Sometimes he would be the one to initiate the conversation, hobbling up to me and thanking me again for carrying an unconscious him for ten blocks. Sometimes he asked if I watched him while he slept, on those two days he spent at my house. I replied with a punch to his arm and an indignant ‘No!’.

            I liked him, I guess. He was pretty good-looking, nice to be around, and had the same hobbies as I did. We were going to remain acquaintances for as long as we were both alive, I was pretty sure, and I was perfectly fine with that.

            Until one day, I wasn’t anymore.

~

Jimin

            Hyunseung brought Jungkook home.

            Okay, that sounded weird. I meant he pulled into the driveway, and I noticed there was someone occupying the passenger seat, and that it was a guy, and that it was Jungkook. And then they came in together, Jungkook and I exchanged brief hellos, Hyunseung asked if dinner was ready, I told him I wasn’t his wife, Jungkook laughed.

            And then they disappeared upstairs.

            I prepared dinner with the radio turned up, humming along to the music. I set the table, washed my hands, and called them for dinner.

            No answer.

            I strained my ears as hard as I could to detect any suggestive sounds whatsoever. When I heard nothing but video-game-playing sounds, I decided to leave them be, plop myself down on the couch with my dinner on my lap, and watch TV. But after a half hour or so of listening to them yell at obscure RPG characters, I gave up and marched upstairs.

            “Could you not?” I demanded, shoving the door open to get their attention. I found them sitting side-by-side on Hyunseung’s bed, eyes glued to the screen in front of them, thumbs flying around on their controllers.

            “Could you not?” I walked to the TV and switched it off in one fluid move. The two of them, snapped out of their video-game-playing stupor, looked at me with a mixture of confusion and irritation.

            “I have been listening to the two of you yell at the stupid screen for half an hour,” I growled at the both of them, snatching their controllers out of their hands. “Dinner’s ready.” I looked pointedly at Hyunseung. “The meat’s cooling.” Predicably, he leapt up, throwing a quick ‘thanks’ over his shoulder before he disappeared out the door. Heavy footsteps could be heard descending the stairs.

            It was just Jungkook and me, alone in the room. I felt strangely uncomfortable, which I owed mostly to the weird looks he was giving me – looks that I couldn’t put a feeling or word on. We stood there, about two feet of distance between us, the sound of Hyunseung devouring his meat downstairs filling the silence, for a minute or so before I decided to speak up.

            “So, uh...” I gestured at the doorway. “I prepared dinner for three...”

            “Hm?” Jungkook looked like he’d been snapped out of a trance. “Oh, okay. Thanks.” Throwing me a sheepish smile, he disappeared out the door and down the stairs as well.

            I stood there for five more minutes after he left, trying to contemplate the meaning of his looks as well as trying to ignore my rapidly beating heart.

~

            I stopped fighting after that.

~

Jungkook

            And just like that, Jimin started mattering to me.

            My visits to the apartment where he lived with Hyunseung started becoming less about having time to catch up with my favorite hyung and more about trying to avoid the fact that I was only going there for Jimin. I started looking for him in crowds, but for some reason it was harder to find him this way than when I didn’t care at all. I started doing anything I could to make him laugh, and I found myself incapable of looking away when he smiled at me. He started taking up more and more of my life, and I wasn’t sure I minded very much.

            On August 13^th, two months after I first met him, I finally acknowledged the fact that I was falling for Park Jimin.

~

Jimin

            I would be lying if I said I didn’t know Jungkook had a crush on me.

            I would also be lying if I said I wasn’t falling for him as well.

~

3^rd Person

            Jimin asked Jungkook out a week before school started. After that, it was like they couldn’t tear themselves away from each other.

~

Jungkook

            I noticed something was wrong when he started checking his phone more often. Most of them were from the same contact – Min Yoongi. He hastily stuffed his phone back into his pocket and kissed me before I could read any of his texts.

~

Jimin

            It’s Yoongi. I thought I’d left him behind forever. But he’s here.

            And he knows.

~

Jungkook

            I read one of the texts. All it says is: I know everything.

~

Jimin

            I have to get away from Jungkook before he gets hurt.

~

3^rd Person

            Jimin broke up with Jungkook five months after they started dating, right before Jungkook was about to say ‘I love you’ to him for the first time.

~

Jungkook

            It broke me. Not because he’d broken up with me, because he broke himself in the process of breaking up with me and I knew it was all my fault.

~

Jimin

            I miss him.

~

Jungkook

            It had been one month since Jimin broke up with me, and one month since I’d seen him last. One month of looking a little bit harder in the crowd, one month of an accelerating heartbeat whenever I saw someone who looked like him, one month of lying awake at 3AM going over my list of regrets all over again.

           Not that I was counting, of course.

           I was splayed out on my couch, literature class’s assigned novel facedown on my lap, when the doorbell rang. Out of complete impulse, I yelled for Umma to get it – then I realized that she wasn’t home, and that I had to get out of my extremely comfortable position on the couch to reject yet another annoying salesperson.

            Groaning, I got up, padded to the front door, and opened it just a tiny crack. A guy was standing on the doorstep – pink hair, angry features, torn clothes. I had the feeling he was hiding something, but I brushed it away as a sign of watching too many thriller movies and opened the door completely.

            “Are you Jeon Jungkook?” the stranger’s voice was calm.

            Without thinking, I said ‘yes’.

            And then it happened, all at once. Something changed within his eyes, and he lifted the thing I’d suspected he’d been holding. It came crashing down on my head before I could register what it was and slam the door shut.

            A sickening crack echoing through my head and a supernova of pain out from a corner of my skull were the last things I could remember before my whole world went black.

~

Jimin

            He found him. And I was too late.

~

           The walls of the hospital are white.

~

            So is Jungkook’s tombstone.

 

A/N: Shoot me.... ahahahahaha