As an eight-year-old boy, Min Yoongi believed his only duty was to sleep as much as he possibly could, and while he was awake, his job was to protect his precious Kumamon plushie from all harm.
Yoongi's mother worried for him, as his only "friend" at school was the plushie. Yoongi, however, didn't mind. The other kids were mean to him anyway, calling him a baby for carrying Kumamon around at school.
Although Mrs. Min worried constantly about her son, she still never once regretted giving him the Kumamon plushie, as it was easily the thing he cared most for . . . besides his sleep, and his bed, and his pillows, and— well, all other things pertaining to sleep.
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[Flashback]
"Yoongi sweetie, happy birthday!"
When Mrs. Min heard no response from her now five-year-old son, she tried again.
"Yoongi? I have a present for you!"
Angered by the continuous lack of reply, Mrs. Min gave up. It was one in the afternoon.
With only enough patience to at least attempt to censor her next words, the short woman screeched, "Min fricking Yoongi, I swear to god, wake the hell up before I sell your bed on eBay and make you sleep in wall squat position without the wall for the next month!"
The sleeping boy woke up when he realized his mother's threatening voice was murdering his ears, immediately sitting up when he caught the part about her selling his bed. Yoongi grumbled to himself and slowly tried to blink the sleep out of his eyes, not used to waking up this early.
"Happy birthday, sweetie!" Mrs. Min sang, any trace of her killer glare—and the yelling that usually accompanied it—gone.
Yoongi curled his knees to his chest, his back leaning on the headboard of the bed. "Well, it would've been happier if I was still sleeping," he pouted grumpily.
Rolling her eyes, Mrs. Min handed her son a box wrapped with plain black wrapping paper. The box was almost bigger that Yoongi himself, but he had no trouble holding it as it was fairly light. "Open it," his mother said with a small smile.
Inside the box was a Kumamon plushie.
"What's this?" Yoongi asked in confusion.
"This is your new friend, Kumamon," Mrs. Min stated plainly. Yoongi scowled, "I don't need friends, though."
Huffing to herself, Mrs. Min replied, "Well, Kumamon needs a friend, and that friend will be you."
"That's funny, I don't remember agreeing to that."
Shaking her head, Yoongi's mother said as she stood by the door, "Be his friend, or suffer the consequences."
Knowing his mom, Yoongi assumed the "consequences" would entail something along the lines of less dessert or less sleep, both of which were extremely important to his well-being, of course.
"By the way," Mrs. Min added as she walked out,"I left you some pancakes on the table, so come eat them before they get cold."
Yoongi groaned in disbelief. If he wanted his daily naptime at the park, he'd have to carry the stupid plushie around.
Maybe he could use it as a pillow?
He hugged Kumamon. The plushie was soft and it was black. Yoongi liked the color black. Maybe Kumamon could be slightly tolerable . . .
Time passed, and Yoongi slowly grew to liking the Kumamon plushie, carrying it wherever he went, "protecting it from harm." He kept Kumamon safe, whether it was in danger of a bee sting, a rain puddle on the ground, or the mean kids in class.
He realized later that he didn't just drag the plushie around for the leftover birthday cake and the extra sleep.
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hello! i guess this is the start of a new book? they do start out as kids, but don't worry, they grow up. i know this chapter is boring, but it really gets better, i promise :,)
thanks for reading <3