Interwoven ✔️

52~Warrior's Blood

[Narrator's POV]
"I-I can't do this anymore!" The little boy collapsed, his entire body shaking on the ground. Tears burned in his eyes but he knew better not to cry. Especially not in front of the man before him.

Said man towered over the little boy, face twisted in disgust and anger. "Get up!" He snarled at the little boy. "I can't believe I got a weak son as you! Get up I said!"

The little boy barely choked back the sobs as he shakily clambered to his feet. His legs trembled and it was all he could do not to collapse again. He wanted his mother. He wanted her comforting strokes and gentle kisses.

But his mother was gone. Scared away by this man before him whom he called Father.

"This is for your own good, Jimin," the father growled at the quivering little boy. "The blood that flows in my veins runs in yours. You know what blood that is?"

The little boy already had heard this enough times. He didn't dare speak back to his father though.

So the father continued like he always did. "That is Exclusive blood of the Konu family line!" The father roared like a lion.

The little boy shriveled down. He wouldn't cry. He wouldn't cry. The father got angry and trained him ten times harder if he cried.

"Warriors blood," the father continued furiously. "You have one of the strongest fighting blood running in your veins. And you can't even complete hundred push ups! Pathetic!"

The little boy tasted blood. He'd sank his teeth so deep into his bottom lip he'd drawn blood.

"The legacy of the Konu family lies on you Jimin! And you disgrace the family name! You're an embarrassment!"

The little boy didn't reply. The burn of tears in his eyes were fading. Instead, a dull, resentful anger was replacing the pain of disappointment and anguish.

The little boy decided he would never be a Konu. He would never be known as a Konu; to hell if his father was a Konu. He would be gentle, like his mother. He would be merciful, loving, like his mother. He would take his mother's family name. "Park," the little boy whispered to himself. "My name is Park Jimin now."

"What did you say?" The father roared.

The little boy slowly looked up to his father. His eyes were dry. His mind clear. "My name is Park Jimin," he declared clearly. "The legacy of the Konu is dead. It's long since been dead before me."

Shock crossed the father's face. It was the first time the little boy had seen that expression upon his father's face.

It emboldened the little boy. "The legacy of Konu is dead," he declared again. "It died the moment you destroyed our planet. It died the moment you destroyed our home and forced everyone to flee and find a new place!"

The father began yelling, but the boy continued to cry out, "You destroyed our home! You're the reason we had to find a different world to live in! It's your fault. It's all your fault!"

Jimin jerked awake, breathing hard. The room was dark and on the chilly side, but sweat poured down his back and made his shirt stick to his skin. His hands immediately moved to the other side of the bed. But his fingers met bare sheets.

His heart twisted painfully as he remembered everything. She wasn't there beside him any longer. He swore and his body curled forward; he wanted nothing more than to hug her until his heart stopped pounding, to cling to her and feel her solid, steady body against his. But he was all alone. All alone.