A/N: To all the old readers/fans, this is our second chaptered fanfic because the first one is coming to an end. D:
Also, happy birthday, Jimin!!
March 2, 2006. Thursday.
Jimin doesn't like kimchi.
He had it everyday for the past few weeks, and until his dad stops being lazy and gets off his b-u-t-t to get something else from the supermarket, it was gonna stay like that. What was so appetizing about kimchi, anyways? Even the name sounded short and boring. Kim-chi. Hello, Mr. Kim Chi, how are you today? Jimin imagined himself shaking hands with a Korean man almost twice the size of him, in a black business suit and a tie with cute little chibi kimchis on it. He was sure this Kim Chi would be the most boring person on earth. Who even likes kimchi?
Taehyung is across the room, talking with one of his other friends. Taehyung is such a twerp. Jimin wonders why he even hangs out with him in the first place. He's a weirdo. And, he's always surrounded by his other friends. Jimin barely gets to hang out with him anymore, he's so popular. Jimin doesn't like popular kids. But Taehyung is different. He doesn't want to be popular.
Where are his other friends?
Jimin couldn't find them.
His kimchi was getting cold in his hands. His mom always yelled at him when he came back with it untouched. So he had to eat it soon. Taehyung once told him to just throw it away without telling her, but Jimin's not a bad boy. He would rather choke and die on pickled cabbage than become a bad boy. And that's that.
Jimin noticed a boy sitting alone in the corner. He seemed lonely. Too lonely. Jimin didn't want anyone to be lonely. He wanted everyone to smile. He absolutely loved it when people smiled. All his teachers had commented on his smile. His parent's friends' friends' parents said they liked his smile (but Jimin didn't really believe them too much, because one time his dad had told him that they absolutely hated their friends' parents, and so Jimin knew that they must be bad). But even though he liked all the attention, he especially liked it when they smiled at him. So he had made it a game. How many people could he make smile?
"Hey! Mind if I sit here?"
The boy didn't reply, which made Jimin a little nervous.
"I'm going to take that as a yes." And Jimin, true to his words, slipped himself right beside the other kid, who seemed younger than him, but really serious. Jimin wasn't sure why he was so serious. What was there to be serious about, anyways? The alphabet? Jimin took that back as soon as the thought it. He did always mix up his V's and W's, so the ABC's weren't as easy as they looked.
"I hate kimchi," Jimin quipped, stabbing his chopstick through it and wrinkling his nose as the pungent smell wafted over him. "Do you like kimchi? I don't."
He didn't reply. Jimin pretended he had.
"What grade are you in?"
Jimin though that he wouldn't respond again, but he did, and Jimin was surprised. "Third," he said, and Jimin found his voice to be cute. Very cute. "Your voice is so cute!"
"Er...." The boy's cheeks reddened. Maybe Jimin shouldn't have said that. Oh well.
"I'm in fifth grade. I'm Park Jimin! And I hate kimchi!"
"I know." He carefully snapped his chopsticks together and picked up a piece of kimbap. Jimin watched his mouth chew slowly, and then he swallowed, looking out the window the whole time. After he had taken his fill, he muttered, his voice surprisingly low for an 8 year old, "I just don't understand why you're talking to me. Aren't you supposed to be with your other fifth grade friends?"
