Jungkook's P.O.V
Kicking the door open, I sniffed the air with a growling stomach, inhaling a delicious aroma. "Food?" I sprinted to the kitchen. "Food!"
As always, it was my mother who'd awaited my arrival, giggling while setting up our dining table. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say somebody's been starving you," she said. "Wash your hands first, sweetie."
I'd returned to sit down and, impatient, began enjoying my meal. Mom took the opposite seat, a sudden frown displayed on her face.
"Do you remember Karen by any chance?" she asked.
"Is she not your best friend from high school?"
"That's right, and we had a chat today, pleasant overall, though something she'd told me, something disturbing, stood out..." Mom rested her face on a palm. "Her younger son got bullied by a student from your school. He had only begun his first year in junior high."
"I understand the feeling, but why are you telling me about it?" I questioned.
"Because the boy remembered the guy's name. Of course, he did. That monster scared him to death..." With a fork still stuck in my mouth, I looked up. "Kim Taehyung, a name I haven't heard of in a while."
The fork dropped. "What?"
She sighed. "Karen's son said his friend was badly injured and that he'd attacked them for no reason."
"What?! When?!"
"This morning, he waited at their school's gates. I get bullying middle schoolers when you're one yourself, but this is simply vile, is it not?" She shook her head. "I feel horrible for these children, and I hope Karen finds a way to stop this, unlike us..."
She stood up to wash the dishes, shaking, and I sat her back down, ready to do it myself. "You're not the one who should feel bad, Mom."
"How about you, does he still bother you?" my mother asked.
"No." I bit my lip. "A part of me even guessed he'd grown a little, even if a tiny bit..."
"I still hope it'll happen. People aren't inherently evil, as much as I distaste that boy," she said.
"Boy?" I scoffed. "That 'boy' is a whole-ass man now, and a breathing proof some people never change."
Now, I believed he'd grown worse, sure the timid behavior was a facade all along. Taehyung was a coward who, within a day, realized his past victim was a potential threat, aware I would stand up for others as I did for him. Instead, that awful, twisted, vicious man began targeting somebody weaker, far away from my protection.
Kim Taehyung was the same psycho he'd forever been, no bit of decency in his ruthless soul. Yet, he continued walking on Earth, unpunished.
***
Taehyung's P.O.V
It'd been three days since I talked to my brother's classmates, and they didn't seem to bother him anymore.
That morning, after years of our mother not preparing a fancy meal for the household, the scent accompanying family breakfasts was back, and although there was nothing wasteful on the tablecloth, having a grouped feast made me feel like royalty.
"Yesterday, I'd received my very first salary," she declared with pride while dragging Father's wheelchair into the room. "We should revive the tradition, eating together is nice, right, boys?"
I nodded in agreement, but Dohyun thought differently. "I'd rather eat alone, why did you decide to start doing this again?"
"To celebrate... among other things, of course." I smiled at her words; Mom was so happy to bring money home, the excitement of getting a job had made her face look a decade younger. "Also, I have a few announcements."
She placed napkins on our dad's collar and lap, and finally, joined us.
"I won't be here this weekend, my boss has a business deal to make out of town, and he asked me to go with him as his personal assistant."
"'Personal assistant,' uh?" I repeated with a raised eyebrow.
"Not that personal, Taehyung." She glared. "You know how much this job means to me. I'd love to have a free weekend and make sure you'd stay away from that cursed restaurant for at least a couple of days, trust me."
"Why? I always work on weekends," I said.
"Not anymore. Because I'm capable of providing this home too, I forbid you from working that hard. What I earn is still not much, but especially now, when little Dohyun is old enough to take care of your father, you should take the time to study and get the scholarship."
"Nonsense! I can do both. There's no reason for us to be satisfied with basic needs alone," I told her, my voice slightly unstable.
"I won't repeat myself, Taehyung," said Mom. "You're not eighteen yet, letting you work without my permission is illegal. I can talk to your boss myself, don't make me."
The family depended on my job for so long that once Mother was well enough to have as many responsibilities, I couldn't help the fear something would go wrong. And she was aware of it.
"Agree, he should relax. Taehyung's like a grumpy old lady," Dohyun mocked before deepening his voice, "'Shit, I'm late for this! Fuck, I've got to do that!'"
"You're not old enough to swear, you little brat!" I smacked the back of his head and turned to our mom. "The little brat also needs new shoes. I can keep up! Let me keep the pace at least until—"
"I SAID NO!"
I flinched: Last time she'd raised her voice at me, she was drunk.
With cheeks turning a bright shade of scarlet, she gave me a few blinks and took a deep breath. "I won't allow it," she continued in a calm tone. "You've still got your childhood, Taetae, and I won't let anything take away what little of it is left. Not while you're still a teen."
No other syllables came out of my lips, and I could only accept her orders as I watched her feeding Dad, miserable. If we had enough money for treatment, maybe I wouldn't have to watch him being fed like a toddler.
Dohyun got up, ready to return to his room. I grabbed his arm.
"I'll also be at work this weekend," I whispered. "Don't say a word to her."
An hour later, I was already at school.
Making my way to the lockers, I spotted Robert on the other side of the hallway, taking out his belongings. For a split second, he glanced back at me.
"Hey, four-eyes!" somebody else called him from behind, causing the boy to revert to his books and glance away. The other guy began taking steps forward.
I watched from afar as all of Robert's books fell to the ground. The guy threw him onto the floor, making Robert join the papers with a painful hit before grabbing him, pinning his spine to the locker, and raising a fist.
"Think I didn't catch you drooling over Booty?"
"W-Why do you c-care? Ember can't be your girl. S-she's single!" Robert responded.
The guy scoffed. "Did your homework, stalker? She will be. You, stay in your lane."
Just when he was about to land a blow, Jungkook had arrived on time to catch the clenched hand, immediately starting twisting it.
For the first couple of seconds, the guy glared while struggling to get out of the grip. Then, after noticing the attempts were of no use, he tried changing his strategy. "Okay, man, I get it, I get it... Can you fucking let go?" Jungkook's knuckles began losing color; he wasn't impressed by the negotiation method. "Please...? Ah, Fuck!" The veins on Jungkook's right arm turned more visible as he continued, the rest of his body appearing rested when his foe was bending all muscles as though fearing the trapped limb would detach otherwise. A couple more seconds in, the guy was begging and apologizing repeatedly.
I stayed in place, petrified. The assaulter wasn't foreign to Jungkook; he and I used to be pals. Robert stood behind his friend, glancing at me with similar fright.
Even once freeing him, Jungkook held the other in his horrifying gaze, staring straight at him, not allowing him a break. His eyes bore a clear message— a wrong move, and the situation would become more than violent.
That gaze was powerful. Whenever I was sitting in class, I could feel it piercing through me like a sharp spear, more terrifying than a deadly weapon. Those eyes, as long as I could remember, had contained within them what multiple worlds all together could not offer, almost condescending, like what they stored was the most unique, valuable knowledge.
And I'd finally learned they did. Every emotion, memory, each moment of pain, and the slightest bits of anger were all displayed in those dark orbs.
What was hiding behind the paralyzing expression, the scene in front of me, Jeon Jungkook protecting his best friend, was truly heartwarming. He didn't let his guard down until the threat was gone. Not until Robert was safe.
"You alright?" he asked his companion softly the moment the other had escaped.
"Yeah, thanks."
The two gathered his scattered things, then began making their way towards our classroom. I followed.
"I can't stand this anymore! Let's walk to school together so I won't leave you alone in the mornings. Heck, I'd wake up at six AM if I'll have to!" Jungkook said.
"You're not my babysitter. I have to manage on my own," said Robert.
"And get punched in the face?!"
"At least I'll get punched as a man." He opened the classroom door for Jungkook and shortly entered himself. Moving to my seat, I kept listening.
"You'll get punched as a stupid man." Jungkook let out a groan of frustration. "I finally have the means to help, so let me—"
"No, thank you. I appreciate it, but my morning walks here are my time to relax, I need to do them alone."
More and more students were populating the room. A drop of water fell onto my desk. It was a tear, my tear, and I only then noticed I was crying, yet was quick to understand why: I had no such suggestion to decline in the first place.
*
"Kim, I told you to clean up the toilets!"
"But sir, the place is full, and I'm the only waiter."
My boss slapped my nape. "Do as I say, you whiny bitch. Oh, how you'd love it if another group of people yells at me..."
I recognized what was going to happen. I was sure, the moment I'd be back to the excitable customers, they'd all start complaining about the lack of service. All I could do was complete the task as fast as possible and pray to manage the damage control well.
I scrubbed, washed, hurried to the first table, and smiled, suppressing exhausted pants. "Yes, ma'am... how may I help you?"
"Are you serious? Why do we have to wait for twenty minutes?!" a woman shouted. "Is there no other waiter here?" I nodded. "Then, where the hell have you been?!"
"Can we order already, please?!" another table called for me.
The customers were furious, the place was a mess, everyone was against me, and the noise had gotten my boss's attention. He stepped in amid the caus, clearing his throat, demanding to hear what was going on.
"We've been waiting to order for half an hour, what is this?!"
"Half an hour? Unbelievable..." He turned to me. "Where have you been?"
"Sir, I was in the bathrooms—"
"Are you kidding me?" he cut me off with a collected murmur. "Now, now. Can't you see those people are hungry and tired from work?"
The urge to feel his neck snap in my fists was yet growing stronger. None of the eaters knew.
"Irresponsible!"
"Lazy!"
"Spoiled brat!"
Everyone was talking about me, complaining, telling my boss to fire me. The other waiter, his son, walked inside the restaurant only an hour before the end of the shift. I finished it in tears.
As it started to rain, I stayed at a nearby empty bus station, listening to water pouring onto the roof with knees pressed against my chest, crying. That time, nobody stood up for me, exactly as my boss had predicted. Jungkook wasn't there.
But the thought of him calmed me down, the memories of the first day at school, the day he had protected me too. Though the idea was childish, I deserved not to grow up. When I was most desperate for one, within my mind, Jeon Jungkook had become my hero, my guardian angel.
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