To say that his mind was a mess would be an understatement.
The first thing Taehyung did was take Jeongguk to a hospital—and that was the first rule he officially broke. Yoongi were taking so damn long to come, and the younger was losing blood constantly. Moreover he wasn't really sure if Jin hyung would be able to cure that.
Giving a fake name, a fake identity, all fake details, Jeongguk was in the ICU—going into instant operation, which panicked Taehyung even more.
All he could do was sit in the waiting area, and stare into nothing, anticipating on what would be the result. There was a small part in him that worried about what he'd answer to Yoongi—but there was no time for this.
Jeongguk's life was more important.
After all, Yoongi would've already known that Taehyung took his brother to a hospital, as he switched on the GPS on his phone, asking the mafia leader to track it.
He took a deep breath, not wanting to cry in front of everybody and create a scene, he let his fingers pass through his blue hair in frustration and helplessness. Closing his eyes shut, a weird feeling formed in his chest, at the thought of Jeongguk struggling for his life, and losing blood—and that feeling wasn't a very pleasant one.
He didn't know why, that frustrated him even more—they were in a mafia gang. Bloodplay and getting injured were normal for them, and there wasn't one time where he felt this much for Jeongguk getting hurt.
Taehyung felt like his throat was stuck in nothing, when he saw Jeongguk laying there unconscious, in the middle of the road, his eyes half open, with blood oozing out from the back of his head continuously.
That sight lingered in his mind, and as far as he knew—it wasn't going to disappear anytime soon.
With all this, he got even more angered at the fact that Namjoon and Jin hyung went out for a secret date, Yoongi and Jimin went somewhere which Yoongi refused to tell him, Hoseok hyung laying there with an injured head and numb mind—lastly, Jeongguk.
Why now? Why... ever?
Why Jeongguk?
"Taehyung."
He heard a stern voice from his left, as he looked up at the familiar voice.
There stood Yoongi with a stoic expression on his face, as he looked down at the younger. Taehyung didn't say anything, as he looked away, before standing up, looking at the other straight.
"Look, Yoongi. I don't care about what you say now," he said, his deep voice slightly failing to hide the frustration within him, "You can do anything to me later, but now—Jeongguk is more important."
"I'm not saying I'll do anything to you," the other refused, "Report."
Taehyung mentally prayed for that, before starting to talk.
"I found him lying on the highway with blood leaving him," he stated.
"Who did it?" He asked calmly—dangerously calm.
"Nobody," the younger answered, "It was an accident, a road accident."
Yoongi looked at the younger for a few seconds, before looking away, shoving his hands in his pockets, his mind already contemplating on what to do with the driver—let him go or teach him a lesson?
"I see," he said.
"He's in ICU. Under operation."
"Good," the elder said, "Because as you said, Jeongguk is more important."
He was his younger brother after all.
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Ten-year-old Yoongi was alone in that dark alleyway.
It was late at night, probably past eleven, as Yoongi ran away from his home, seeing his drunk mother. She wasn't harming him or anything—but the reeking smell of alcohol, and the environment of heavy dose of it, Yoongi couldn't take it.
He was a kid after all.
When he ran away, not looking back, scared by the gloomy look his mother gave him—he didn't even look back. He ran as fast as possible, thinking that he could just find the way the next morning before the sun rises.
And that was how he ended up in that dark alleyway. Though he had a rough memory of the way he came, he didn't want to go back to his house, where his mother was. He didn't like that side of his mother.
But his attention was diverted to something else, when he felt his stomach grumbling.
Sighing slightly, a cute pout made way to his small, thin lips, his innocent mind automatically going to various pictures of food. He took a small sigh, as he sat down, clearing the particular dust patch with his legs.
Somehow, he felt a bit safe in that dark.
Ironic? Yeah.
He didn't want to go home, as he just leaned against the dirty wall—a small thought reminding him that he'd get his clothes dirty, but he didn't care, of course.
The little boy, with pitch black hair, looked around to see if there was anyone there, at that time. And as he expected, no one was. Again—he was lonely.
He just wanted some friends, to play and talk with, was that too much to ask for?
He looked down, playing with small stones on the floor, sitting cross-legged.
"Mama," he whispered softly, "I wish you are happy—I don't want you to drink," he said, his mind saddening at the thought of his mother.
But if he ever told his mother not to do something, she always let it slide, thinking that he was a little kid and he wouldn't know anything. Well, she shouldn't thought that when leaving Yoongi alone almost every evening, while working.
Yoongi sighed again, his eyes getting teary.
"W-Who's there?"
He heard a sudden voice, from his left side, making him look at that direction.
The voice seemed like a little boy, around his age—a bit high pitched than the usual ones. Yoongi tried to look further while sitting there, but the darkness didn't help it. He got up immediately, his bare foot touching the ground through his torn shoes. He ignored it as usual, as he started walking towards his left.
"Uh... Who is it?" He asked, a bit louder.
"Someone's actually there?" The other voice asked, with a small bit of hope—with Yoongi still couldn't see the other person.
"Yeah, who is it—ouch!" He exclaimed, when someone hit him in the shoulders, bumping him harshly—making him turn around immediately.
"Oww!" He heard the same voice say, at the same time he got bumped—Yoongi extended his hand roughly, to feel whoever it was.
"Hey, who's touching me? Get off," the other voice grumbled, his high pitched voice slightly getting deeper.
"You're the one who asked who's there, and now you're telling me to get off?" Yoongi asked back, moving his hand down, grabbing the other's wrist, before dragging him to the place where little light was visible—where he was before.
"H-Hey! What are you doing?" Jimin said, sudden irritation and panic clear in his voice.
Yoongi didn't say anything, as he walked forward bravely, trying to look for light.
"Let go—oh," he let out a surprised voice, when the elder got him to a place where a beam of light was entering the dark area, their faces coming to view perfectly.
"Thanks," Jimin mumbled.
"It's okay kid," the other scoffed playfully, before sitting down where he was sitting before.
"First of all, we both look the same age? A-And, don't sit there, it's dirty!" He said, his eyes getting a bit wider.
"You're gonna stand there the whole time? Suit yourself, I don't care," Yoongi rolled his eyes—lowkey enjoying the new company he got.
"R-Rude!" Jimin scoffed, before looking at the other for a moment, sitting beside him anyways.
"I'm not rude, I'm just straightforward," he said.
"Straightforward...? What does that word mean? It's so long...," Jimin mumbled, getting a bit comfortable beside the elder.
"Yeah, you're definitely not my age," Yoongi stated, looking at him.
"I'm s-seven!" Jimin said, rolling his eyes again.
'This kid has got some attitude...'
Yoongi thought, before sighing in tiny.
"I'm ten, kid," he said.
"Whatever, you're a kid yourself," Jimin retorted back, not minding that the other was three years older than him, "What's your name?"
"Why should I tell you?"
"Because I asked?"
"It's... Yoongi, Min Yoongi," he said, mentally facepalming at the answer the younger gave.
"I'm Park Jimin," the younger said.
"Did I ask?"
"No."
"Then why are you saying?"
"Because I can?"
Yoongi was so done. The view of his mother's drinking dissipating from his mind slowly, thinking about who taught this kid to talk like this. As of him, he was respectful—always, to strangers. Whereas, there Jimin was, talking whatever he liked.
"Yeah, whatever," Yoongi whispered, "What are you doing here at this hour? I bet your parents are worried about you," he stated.
"I got lost, actually," Jimin said, "Me and my parents were out, they were on their phones, and I got lost."
"You're saying it like a simple thing," Yoongi said, shaking his head, "Aren't you scared?"
"Why would I be?" He asked, his small eyes staring at the elder with curiousness in it.
"I-I don't know, someone might... kidnap you?" Yoongi answered, a bit unsurely, not knowing what else to say to that question.
"Kidnap? What is that?" He asked.
'Seriously who is this kid?'
Yoongi thought, before turning away.
"Never mind," he said, "But I'll take you home now, come on."
"Why?" Jimin frowned.
"I don't wanna be the responsibility for you when your parents find out where were you," the elder said, getting up.
"Okay... Moreover, I need to go home now, I miss my phone."
Yoongi's eyes went saucers—literally.
"You have a phone?" He asked, "Your own phone? You're seven?" He asked, looking at the smaller boy.
"Don't all kids have phone at seven?" Jimin asked frowning, getting up too.
"I—no!" He exclaimed, laughing out in muse, "You must be rich..."
"Rich? What's that again?" Jimin asked, "Why are you speaking weird words?"
"It's not... it's not weird, what do you mean? You're weird for not knowing what rich means," Yoongi scoffed, "Rich is having a lot of money... and all the expensive things."
"Don't all people have that?" Jimin asked innocently.
"No, they don't," Yoongi said, biting his lips at the ignorance, "You don't know anything, kid."
"Who are you to say that—you know what, just take me home!"
'Why is he demanding?'
Yoongi thought in disbelief. He was shocked at the behavior of him—his knowledge, just everything about the boy... Park Jimin.
"I don't know where your home is. First, let's just get out of this alley, let's see if you could recognize the way," Yoongi said, anyway, before walking forward.
"What are you doing? Hold my hand!" Jimin demanded once again, not moving from the place.
Yoongi looked back with his mouth half open, his mind failing to process, thinking of how much this boy would be demanding and ordering. When he looked at him, Jimin shot him a questioning look, pointing at his hands. Yoongi just shook his head, before walking to him—taking his hand in him, before walking.
Praying that this time, Jimin didn't open his mouth and simply following him.
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"Sir, the operation is done," the doctor said—as Yoongi froze.
Taehyung went to home—just a few minutes ago, after staying in the hospital for almost five hours, as Yoongi said that he'd stay.
"Yes?" He asked, as he stood up.
"I'm afraid it's something serious."
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I actually enjoyed writing the past so much, lol.
Happy reading~
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