Chapter Text
Jimin vividly remembers the first time he saw Jeongguk.
It was a Monday morning and he was a little irritated. He didn't get enough sleep last night, just like every single night thanks to his fucking insomnia. It didn't help that his classmates wouldn't stop blabbering to each other about things Jimin bet didn't matter. The noise made his head pound, his heart accelerate, adding to Jimin's already sour mood. Jimin pressed his palms on his temples, eyes squeezed shut and brows knitted in frustration. He exhaled loudly, opened his eyes and looked to his left side where he could clearly see the school’s field from where he sat by the window of the classroom.
Jimin put his hands under his chin and tilted his head up. Contrary to Jimin's mood, the weather was amazing. The sun was high up in the sky, but didn't shine too harshly and it wasn't too hot either, but still hot by Jimin's standard. It was enough to make him sweat despite the room having the air conditioner on. There were lots of clouds with different shapes, Jimin could have sworn he saw a dog-shaped one.
Much to his surprise, he felt himself calm down, the distraction probably helped with his mood, although it didn't do much for his headache. He needed to drink an Advil or something. He couldn't continue his day like this. Before he could stand up from his seat and head to the infirmary to ask for some medicine, the voice of their homeroom teacher boomed inside the classroom.
"Class, take your seats—Hyeongjun I told you to stop sitting on the armchair! Take your goddamn seats," Cheon-ssaem said through gritted teeth when his students continued minding their business as if their teacher wasn't there. It wasn't new though, their teacher had little to no sense of authority. No one really listened to him. Cheon-ssaem repeated himself one more time and finally, everyone was back on their seats. "I have someone to introduce you to! Your new classmate, remember?" he said with fake enthusiasm. All of a sudden, the classroom went quiet and everyone was paying attention.
Behind Cheon-ssaem was a boy.
"Go on, Jeon, introduce yourself," Cheon-ssaem encouraged, placing his hand on the boy's back to gently push him forward. The boy resisted and could´ve almost fallen on his face if Cheon-ssaem hadn’t pulled him by the arm. Everyone laughed, Jimin himself couldn't help but scoff at the boy's clumsiness. "Hurry up, we still have to proceed with our lesson."
Perhaps, the boy could sense that Cheon-ssaem was losing his non-existent patience so he stepped forward. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, his shaking fists that were in front of his stomach were almost white with how hard he was clenching them and he was gnawing on his bottom lip in a way that made Jimin think he'd be seeing blood in a matter of seconds.
Everybody was waiting for him to speak but he didn't. He was just standing in front with a slouched back and head bowed down. He was motionless too as if waiting for his mouth to speak on its own.
Jimin sighed, bored already. Instead, he decided to take a closer look at the boy. He couldn't see him clearly from where he was seated in the last row but he could see that the boy's eyes were hidden by his silky black hair, only his nose and lips were visible, and also his slightly rounded cheeks. The boy was very pale as if the sunrays hadn't touched his skin for a long time. He was wearing a blue oversized plaid shirt that reached his upper thigh and it was probably the boy's age with how worn it looked and how wrinkled it was. Inside of that blue plaid shirt is their school uniform that was just as wrinkly. If a flat iron ever saw this boy, it would probably chase after him.
"J-Jeongguk…"
Jimin's head snapped up to the boy's face when he heard him speak.
"Jeon Jeongguk," he said timidly. Jimin couldn't see his eyes but he was sure Jeon was looking down.
He sounded just like how he looked, weak. As if he was going to break.
"Is that all?" Cheon-ssaem asked after another minute of silence. Jeon nodded. "Will you not mention your age? What are your hobbies? Nothing else?"
Jeon didn't answer and Cheon-ssaem only sighed. The class started murmuring between themselves, continuing their interrupted conversations. Everyone was talking except for Jimin, who was still focused on the new kid who stood in the front. There was nothing more interesting than a new classmate anyway. Jimin saw Jeon's lips move, he didn't catch what he said, but by the way Cheon-ssaem was pointing to a vacant chair in front of him, he probably asked where his seat was.
Jeon bowed to Cheon-ssaem and headed for his seat. He flinched halfway when Cheon-ssaem clapped his hand to get the class' attention, but he continued to walk until he reached his seat. Jeon quietly sat down. He slipped his backpack from his shoulders and placed it behind his back before facing forward. He moved so slow, careful of his every move. Jimin couldn't blame him, everyone was looking at him with hawk eyes, scrutinizing and judging.
Jimin could see Jeon's hands tremble when he placed them on top of his desk.
The class had been informed of a new classmate's arrival. Every year, they had classmates coming in and out of the school. They were all used to it, but the thrill never faded. A new classmate meant someone new to prey on, someone new to break down until nothing was left of them. Jimin never joined his classmates as they tormented another, but he didn't interfere or do anything to stop them either, no one dared to. Not even their teachers or the higher officials did something about it, and even if some of them did care, they didn't care enough to reject the money offered to them to keep their mouths shut. Besides, who would dare stop a bunch of spoiled brats raised by the most powerful names in the city who could destroy them with the flick of their wrist? Who didn't want money? And if someone dared to, they'd be dead meat. Jimin knew his classmates wouldn't lay a finger on him as he was the City Mayor's son—no one would really want to mess with him—he didn't do anything, he just watched. He was aware that that made him just as shitty as everyone else.
And Jeon Jeongguk was the perfect target.
He came from Gajeong, one of the poorest neighborhoods in the city, lived a poor life, and most of all, he was a thief's son. At least that was what he heard from his classmates. They do that every time, do a stupid background check on everyone who entered the school to see if it was someone whose ass they could kiss or if it was someone they could beat to a pulp and not suffer any consequences.
Jimin had no idea how he ended up in such a prestigious school like this one. Jeon obviously wasn't well-off to afford to study here, and he didn't seem like he wanted to be here in the first place. It shouldn't matter to Jimin, he shouldn't care. Jimin looked away from Jeon and listened to Cheon-ssaem's lecture instead.
This was going to be a long year.
Diagnostic tests are pointless. Why did they have to take exams about what they studied last year? It sucked that their scores were recorded too. Honestly speaking, Jimin hadn't learned a single thing last year, he never listened well to his teachers during lectures, and even if he did learn something, the summer vacation sucked all of that out of his brain. Jimin loved to complain, it was the only way he could vent out his frustrations. When exams came, he still studied—if memorizing the notes he borrowed from one of his classmates was considered studying—staying up until a couple of hours before going to school to make sure he wouldn't fail. He had to avoid failing, it wouldn't do his father's reputation any good.
Now sitting in his chair, Jimin was bored out of his wits. He tapped his pen on his desk as they waited for their homeroom teacher. Cheon-ssaem was never on time. When he finally arrived, he apologized for being late. At least be punctual if you're really sorry. He handed the exam papers upside down to each row, chastising one of their classmates when he took a peek.
He stopped tapping his pen when he noticed Jeongguk hastily rummaging through his bag. He looked close to ripping it. Jimin saw how his hands shook, even though Jeongguk tried not to make it obvious, as he searched through it over and over again. When he didn't find what he was looking for, he looked under his desk, then under his chair, going back to his bag when he found nothing. Jimin couldn't see his eyes because they were covered by his hair, but he could see his lips were pointing down to a frown. He seemed so distressed, his chest rising and falling rapidly. Jimin frowned, had no idea what Jeongguk was looking for, but he could guess.
Jimin took one of his ballpoint pens from his bag and handed it to Jeongguk quietly. Jeongguk didn't notice him so Jimin poked his shoulder with the pen. Jeongguk flinched, and for a second, Jimin thought he would scream too. Luckily, he didn't. Jeongguk tilted his head up, and probably looked at him—he had no idea—and then at the pen being handed to him. He just looked at it for a moment, as if it was his first time seeing a pen and its existence was a wonder. He lifted his hand and pointed his thumb at himself, asking 'is this for me?' so Jimin nodded and gave him the pen. Jeongguk visibly relaxed, and Jimin might be hallucinating due to lack of sleep, but he could swear he saw his lips curl up into a tight smile before he turned his back on him.
Jeongguk felt like he could finally breathe after taking the diagnostic tests for all the subjects. He would've failed everything and made a fool out of himself if it weren't for the kind classmate behind him. Park Jimin was his name, if he recalled correctly. Jeongguk wasn't sure how he lost his pen to be honest. He was so sure he had it in his bag just before he left for school this morning.
For a second, Jeongguk thought Jimin was going to punch him because why else would he extend his hand like that? When he saw a pen, he became less tense, but also confused. He took it from his hands and took the exam with a grateful heart. Jeongguk wasn't sure why Jimin would do that, why he would lend him a pen. Not to mention he had done it so openly, he saw some of their classmates looking. He hoped Jimin wouldn't get in trouble because of him. But at the same time, he couldn't help the ugly feeling that grew in his chest. That was probably another trap that he had foolishly fallen into, because why would someone ever offer him genuine kindness. He was probably after something, there was probably a price for this. It had always been like that. Jeongguk felt nauseous, he had to give the pen back as soon as he got the chance.
Jimin found himself watching Jeon throughout the weeks. He didn't know why he was doing it either, his body was just telling him to keep an eye on him. Did he think Jeon was interesting? Did he think of Jeon as some source of entertainment? Was he curious about him? Jimin wasn't sure. It could be all of that, but also nothing.
Jimin noticed that he wore the same blue plaid shirt every day. The bleach stain on the sleeve was the giveaway. Jeongguk was alone, always alone. During group activities, or when they had to pair, no one in their class would even waste a second to think of including Jeongguk. He was always the person with whom nobody wanted to be associated with. No one would dare befriend him even if they wanted to because doing so was subjecting themselves to torture and pain in the foreseeable future. Jeongguk didn't seem to mind the loneliness that much. He was probably aware of what was to come too, if the way he recoiled every time someone got too close to him was anything to go by.
He never heard Jeongguk say a word after that day. He would either nod or shake his head when asked with something answerable by 'yes' or 'no', and if that was not the case, he wouldn't speak. For some reason, that was good enough to offend their classmates.
"Jeon, are you fucking mute or something?" Junghoon sneered at Jeongguk as soon as the teacher left their class, walking towards Jeongguk's seat. Junghoon was one of the people in school that everyone feared. He was taller than kids his age, bigger in size too. He was more known here for breaking noses than studying. Jimin joked once that Junghoon must think the school was a boxing ring. They didn't consider each other friends, but they were forced to act like they were because their fathers were.
When he didn't answer, Junghoon slapped his back tauntingly. Jeongguk flinched, but he remained silent, and this seemed to have angered Junghoon more. He yanked Jeongguk's hair with so much force Jimin thought he'd heard bones crack. Jeongguk hissed in pain, and he started to tremble. Everyone in the class was gathered to watch as if this was some sort of action movie, while some watched with goosebumps on their skin, eyes stinging with the fear that they'd be next. As usual, no one intervened.
"I asked if you are fucking mute?"
"N-No, I'm—not," Jeongguk said, his voice was barely a whisper.
"I can't hear you!" he pulled harder.
"No. No," he said a little louder. Satisfied, Junghoon let him go, but not before smacking his head so harshly that Jeongguk's head met the surface of his desk with a loud thud. Junghoon walked out of the room next to his friends with a smirk on his face, not before patting Jimin's back and telling him he'd wait for him later to play football.
Jimin shooed away the few people who were still watching Jeongguk, and then he quietly motioned for everyone to leave the room, and they listened. He'd always done that. Perhaps it was to get rid of the guilt that ate him away for not doing anything when he was perfectly capable of stopping it. But at the same time, he felt like this was the only thing he could do. He still felt like shit though, he would always think of himself as an asshole.
He was aware of the monstrosities that Junghoon and his friends were capable of doing, he had seen it ever since he was thirteen. Three years later, nothing changed, they just seemed to be getting worse. But even then, Jimin couldn't help but wish they would change. Trying to talk them out of it wasn't a good choice, they wouldn't listen. People didn't really change. Jimin sighed heavily. He stayed on his seat, behind Jeongguk.
Jeongguk refused to move even half an hour later. Jimin wanted to tell him it was okay, everybody left, but he didn't, he quietly sat there instead. He hoped the boy wouldn't think of him as a creep. After a few more minutes, Jeongguk lifted his head up. He looked around warily, as if checking if there was any kind of danger around him, and when he sensed that there was none, he relaxed. When he saw Jimin he startled and jumped on the seat. He would have tumbled over the edge had Jimin not yanked the chair upright.
"I'm—I'm sorry," Jeongguk said. It was the first time Jimin heard his voice up close. It was just as weak and shaky as before, but it was clearer. Jimin wanted to hear more of it.
"Why are you apologizing? You did nothing wrong."
Jeongguk remained quiet.
"Are you okay?" Jimin asked, genuinely concerned.
Jeongguk quickly turned his back on him and with a shaky hand he brushed his hands down his blue plaid shirt, ignoring Jimin's question and his whole existence.
Then, he left.