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Chapter One: Swing

A/N: This fanfic is dedicated to our amazing, BTS loving, and overall perfect friend who is always by our side, helping us with all of our problems. We love you so much, and I hope you understand how much we appreciate you being there with us, no matter what, and making us smile when our days are bad. :)

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A small boy with jet-black hair and a limp in his walk was clambering down the steps that led to the large, disgustingly plain school with the big, black writing. School was over, and it was finally time to go home. Jungkook wasn't really sure why he loved going back home after the day, because there wasn't much to do there anyways. However it was better than being locked up in a classroom, being forced to form social interactions with people he barely knew (or liked, for that matter). That's why he would walk with a small skip, even though his knee was hurt, and knew that his big, red firetruck was there in his room, waiting for him.

Today, he decided to take a small detour to his trip and go down the overgrown sidewalk which led to his park. That's right, it was his park, and nobody else's, he thought haughtily. Not many of the other kids dared to play there, because Jungkook would always scare them away, threatening to beat them up. Even though he was only seven, he left an imprint on even the older kids' minds. It served them right, the boy thought, grinning. Jungkook always got what he wanted.

But today, as the giant playground came in view, he saw a boy, who looked slightly older than him, sitting on HIS swing. That was his favorite swing. What was this boy doing in it? Didn't he know better than to be sitting on HIS swing? Jungkook thought, feet glued to the pavement. It didn't matter that Jungkook was almost paralyzed as he saw the boy's legs swing to and fro with a swift, mesmerising movement and it seemed like he was the best swinger in the world; the red rubber swing was his, and only his, and it had been his for almost a year now. He even had carved his name, "JEON JUNGKOOK," in capital letters into the seat using a spare screwdriver from his father's toolbox. The boy could see his name from where he was standing, taunting him.

Jungkook wasn't one with words, but he sure knew how to yell. "Hey!" he shouted, his small hands balled into fists by his sides. The boy looked up innocently, his brown eyes sparkling with curiosity. Jungkook was just more angered by his cuteness, and spit out a few words that he knew would make his father hit him across the head.

The boy looked at him, as the swing slowed down to a halt. But he didn't get off. Jungkook's eyes were almost popping out of his head. Who does this kid think he is? This was his swing. He was sitting on his swing. Jungkook was almost sure he saw a scratch on it that hadn't been there the day before.

"Hey, get off my swing!!!" When the boy didn't reply, Jungkook decided words weren't enough to deal with this guy. He hopped over the curb, feet digging into the freshly cut bark that was just put there a couple of days ago, and grabbed the chain of the swing with so much force that he was surprised the boy didn't come flying off. Jungkook sure wish he did; instead, he just looked up at him, with those big brown eyes, and made Jungkook want to squish his cheeks for some odd reason. But he didn't. He stole something from him! He's stupid and he doesn't deserve a great friend like Jeon Jungkook!

Before you knew it, Jungkook's hands were on his back, and with a great push, the boy was sprawled on the ground. Jungkook knew he wasn't going to get off (or at least he predicted he wouldn't), and had taken steps a little further. But he was surprised the boy wasn't crying, or at the least, complaining about "skidding his elbow" or something as insignificant as that.

It was a couple of seconds before Jungkook realised that the boy, who was face-planted into the dirt, and gotten up quickly and started yelling at him. It was the usual whining, the "I wanted a turn on the swing, it's not yours" and the "Why did you have to shove me off!?" Really? This guy was really getting on his nerves right now. He just needed to quit being such a baby, know what's his and what's not his, and he would be almost tolerable (almost). He acted just like everyone else: annoying (This is why he didn't want any friends, no matter what his mom tried to tell him). Friends are for losers, like the guy standing in front of me, he thought to himself. Yeah, this kid in front of me right now is the biggest loser of all. Thinking everything has to go only his way.

"Jiminie!" shouted a deep voice, and both Jungkook and the boy's head snapped up. Instead of looking for the owner of the voice, Jungkook looked at the boy's reaction. He seemed both defiant and slightly afraid. Maybe he got his lessons worth? That this swing was his and only his and he should go home now. It would be much funnier to Jungkook if he was sulking, or crying, or both. It would give a little show to the rest of the kids and give them the lesson to NEVER, EVER come to Jungkook's playground, unless you wanted to end up like the loser in front of them. Yeah, that would be great, Jungkook thought and started snickering. It was a perfect plan!

The boy's face contorted into a look of confusion (was his name Jiminie? I'd rather just call him loser, Jungkook thought) as a boy who looked much older than him came up to him and stared down at him with a grimace. "What are you doing? I've never seen you like this before, Jimin..."

Jimin looked up at him, biting his lip. Jungkook just watched as his face changed into one of surprise, then one of anger, and then to blank. Jungkook couldn't figure out what he was thinking anymore, as he had probably locked up all his feelings. What did Jungkook know about feelings, anyways? And it's not like he cared. As if.

"He's clearly younger than you, you're treating him so badly! Just because you're slightly older than him doesn't mean you can just boss him around, gosh darn it, just when I thought you were ready to be grown up...." muttered the older boy. Though it seemed like he was trying to whisper, it wasn't working out very well. Jungkook had probably the best hearing out of every kid in his block.

The boy's eyes widened. "No, I am ready! I'm ready! I didn't do anything, I promise!" he pleaded, which sounded like whining to Jungkook. The older boy ignored him, and after a while, he turned to face me.

"Hey, kid, sorry about that. Jimin doesn't usually act like that, I swear," he grinned, and held up his hand for a high-five. Jungkook received it. The boy continued, "What's your name? I've seen you around, but nobody seems to like talking about you..."

"Jeon Jungkook, grade 1," Jungkook responded, just like his mom had made him practice almost a million times in the mirror last year.

"Wow, cool," he laughed, and grabbed the other boy's wrist, who was still pleading with continuous phrases of "Come on, Hoseok hyung!" and "it wasn't my fault! I swear! It was his!"

As Jungkook watched the two cross the street and disappear from sight, he felt relaxed and pretty happy. But he couldn't help feeling a little pity for the boy. Jimin? Was that it? It wasn't really his fault, I mean, even if he DID steal his swing, it didn't mean that Jungkook couldn't have let him have a turn, right? Jungkook knew it was getting pretty late, and his mom had told him that she was making his favorite dinner (beef bulgogi), so Jungkook set off for his house, his feet dragging behind him and wondering whether the boy would be back at the park tomorrow.