If Memory Serves [YoonMin]

12

PRESENT

The dance room is soulless until they walk in.

Jungkook is glued to his arm, yammering about the last class and the way he and the fourth year discussed the song they would be working on. As happy as Jimin is for him, he deflates little by little as he realizes that this means he's behind already. Once again, he thinks of whoever he's supposed to be working with, but swats away the thoughts, reminding himself that they couldn't make it and it hadn't been their fault.

They're stretching when the fourth years walk in. Jimin feels defeated when he sees that it's the same number of students as last time. There's not a single new face among them, which means the fourth year he's meant to be doing this with isn't here again.

Jimin moves aside toward a couch on the opposite end of the room when the pairs and groups find each other and find respective spots to start discussing. Some of them have already got the first bit of the dance while others are only exchanging ideas. It makes Jimin feel worse about the situation, stress gnawing at the inside of his brain.

He's a good dancer. He's decent enough to be thinking about it seriously as a career. He's a terrible stressor though (then again, isn't everyone?) Jimin has a tendency to overthink when there's a slight hint of him falling behind or starting late, which is exactly what he's experiencing right now. He can't not think about the potentiality of failure at the end of this year because the person couldn't make it.

His class doesn't even know how decent he is, and the only way to show them is to progress. He's got ideas too, but nobody to share them with aside from Jungkook. (It didn't seem like they were doing that.)

Jungkook, on the other hand, is fucking good at moving. He's a great dancer, his moves sharp and gentle at all the right times. And this is only him and his music person discussing. He'd probably be a shit ton better when he's practiced the dance so much that it's burnt into the back of his brain.

During the break, Jungkook hops over, a wide grin on his face. "Did you see me dance there?" (He's noticed Jungkook doesn't call him hyung and when he tries to point it out, he's told they're friends. Jimin calls him a brat and Taehyung tells him not to worry because he'll be calling Jimin 'hyung' for the both of them. It's not the same, but it's something.)

"You're an awesome dancer, Kook," he says, nickname slipping. Taehyung's used it so that Jimin forgets he's never used it. Jungkook, seeming to notice it, tilts his head, still grinning.

"Thanks, Jiminnie."

His heart pulls stiff (if hearts can even do that) and he's shaking his head quickly. Jungkook looks confused.

"Is something wrong? Should I not— "

"A- Any other nickname," Jimin murmurs, running a hand through his hair.

He's not used to hearing the nickname from anyone else. Only the boy from the train. The problem is that Jimin grew accustomed. His mom never called him anything other than his name and his father only ever had terrible and unkind nicknames for him. Hearing it again after eight years when he doesn't know what ever happened to the boy hurts.

Jungkook is surprisingly accomodating and accepting. He nods like he understands, though Jimin knows he doesn't quite. His eyes flicker up in thought and then he's smiling again.

"Minnie. Is that okay?"

"Yeah," Jimin says. "That's okay."

When the break ends, everyone returns to their spots, Jungkook bids him a goodbye and goodluck and Jimin is on his own.

Until the door to the dance room swings open and someone Jimin doesn't recognise walks in. He's probably the same height as Jimin, black hair reaching just short of his shoulders and the top hidden beneath a beanie. Professor Kwon points in Jimin's direction and, as he stalks over, he's all brooding and cold. There's a permanent scowl on his face, his arms crossed over his chest.

Jimin expects the worst.

"Are you the one who picked my song?" His voice is deep and raspy. Jimin's listened to a few of his songs, but it sounds so different to his real voice. (Which Jimin thinks is purely amazing.)

"Yes, I am."

"Thanks for picking it," he grunts. "No surprise there's not a lot."

"You were expecting few?"

The guy looks at him oddly for a brief moment before he shrugs. "I wasn't expecting one."

Jimin doesn't know how to respond, but thankfully, he doesn't have to as Agust D holds out a hand which Jimin accepts gingerly into his own. They're half shaking hands when the guy's expression loosens and there's a hint of acknowledgement in his eyes.

"Min Yoongi."

And just like that, Jimin's whole world comes crashing down.