무시 무시한.

He hadn’t believed in monsters, though, not until he became witness to some of the savage, violent things that the students had done. He’d found himself awestruck, sometimes, at how quickly brothers would be willing to stab each other in the back, how some could go from friends to foes in the blink of an eye. It’d felt like reality’d hit him in the face, back then, but he hadn’t showed it too often. With time, he grew accustomed to the lack of conscience with the majority of his peers.

One disturbing fact that he found himself constantly forgetting was that Jaehyun was a student, too. A student with a past, just like everyone else.

And Jimin was no stranger to gossip, or the occasional story circulating around campus, so he knew that, most of the time, he couldn’t trust it. But some of the things he’d heard about Jaehyun, some of the things that people suspected he’d done – sometimes, Jimin couldn’t help but wonder. He didn’t do much besides wonder, but it always left him feeling a little more hollow than he had been before.

He’d kept himself by Jaehyun’s side for who knew how long by then, despite the things that he’d heard, and the multiple warnings he’d received – like a tiny parasite that just took, and took, and took, to satisfy its curiosity, along with the occasional adrenaline rush. (His curiosity’d never been satisfied with Jaehyun, for whatever reason that might’ve been, though.)

Or at least, that was how it’d been at the start.

He knew how overprotective Jaehyun was (he’d seen it with his own eyes, how far Jaehyun’d been willing to go to protect him) – but he didn’t know when it was exactly that he’d begun slowly reciprocating that protectiveness. He didn’t know when Jaehyun had gone from being labelled ‘friend’ to ‘best friend’, at the back of his head. The events were fuzzy, when he tried thinking back to them, but he was a hundred-percent sure that it had happened at one point or another.

What’d made him so convinced of that was how he’d reacted, how just the thought of Jaehyun in such a pained position had been enough for him to crack – it’d almost been an automatic response from Jimin, but he didn’t regret it. He couldn’t possibly regret choosing to help Jaehyun, not when he knew that he wouldn’t have done otherwise, no matter the cirmustance.

He kept himself grounded, crouching in front of Jaehyun with sadness written over his features in clear, watertight ink. He felt guilty, and there was no doubt about it, but it felt different – different than all those times he’d done something and incontrovertibly fucked up. This time, he wanted to mend things, for both Jaehyun and himself.

But the hand suddenly moving to grab his shirt, the vibration of every whimper against the skin of his neck, it surprised him. It surprised him more than it should have, and he only realized that upon noticing the fact that he’d frozen, as stiff as the hairs on the back of his neck. 

He managed to pull himself out of it, though.

Both his hands fell, tangling themselves around Jaehyun’s waist before one of them rose to the back of Jaehyun’s head, his fingers running through the tufts of hair, as soothingly as he could have pictured possible. And it worked, for a short while.

The only thing slowing Jimin down was the fact that he was finding it increasingly hard not to burst into tears, as well.

He lifted his head just about the right time, though, when he was met with Jaehyun’s forehead against his. It didn’t shock him, not like the first time, at least. He stared at Jaehyun with soft eyes for what seemed to be the longest time before he got an actual response from the elder.

His eyes went wide as soon as he did, though, and he blinked – once, twice – before separating himself from Jaehyun to take a proper look at his hand. The sight he was met with had a gasp leaving his lips, hands immediately coming down to cradle Jaehyun’s hand in his own.

What was he thinking? The question rose to Jimin’s mind, inevitably, but Jimin didn’t pay it too much mind, far too preoccupied by the alarmed thoughts that were running through his head after he’d seen the swelling that’d reached Jaehyun’s (broken) hand.

“It’s the caffeine helps me through it.” He said, offering the male a quick smile prior to shaking his head, because (even if he was pretending to have otherwise) he had no idea why Byungjoo was even apologizing. “It’s– Okay. Don’t worry about it.”

Byungjoo’s hesitance, along with the short pause he’d taken before responding, had Jimin thinking back to the few times he’d met with Byungjoo again. Of course, he’d always considered Byungjoo to be a friend, because that was what they were, wasn’t it? The reluctance had him wondering just a tiny bit more if it had been any different for Byungjoo. If Byungjoo’d considered them to be acquainted, at all.  

“Of course we are.” He responded, stopping in his tracks right behind Byungjoo. The question he’d received wasn’t one he’d been expecting from the other boy, because Jimin wouldn’t have invited him to coffee if they weren’t friends, obviously. Couldn’t Byungjoo see that?

“We are, Byungjoo.” He repeated, squatting down so he was on the same eye-level of his fellow peer.

Finding Jaehyun in tears, right in the corner of an empty locker room – it wasn’t just surprise that he felt in that instant specifically. It was so much more. For a second, it had been protecting him from an overhanging ache – from grief, even – suspended in the air until it was shattering like glass right after. Some would call it shock. To Jimin, shock and surprise were the practically the same thing, anyway, just a momentary inability to compute. He didn’t know how fast it took to get him beside Jaehyun, hands automatically flying to cup the elder male’s cheeks – but it was fast. Reflexive, almost.

Seeing Jaehyun in that position exactly, he wanted to call it a slap in the face, really, but ultimately, he knew that it was so much worse. When he found himself kneeling on the cold tiles of flooring, making a futile attempt to wipe Jaehyun’s tears away, he realized that it’d felt like someone jabbed him in the gut, chewed it up, then trampled all over it at once. He couldn’t stand it, especially knowing that minutes earlier he’d been standing outside the room, over the moon, while his best friend had been– God, Jimin couldn’t even begin to wonder how Jaehyun had gotten himself to that point.

His chest was constricting, filling his center with nothing but raw, unadulterated pain. His eyes were stinging, a foretaste of the tears that were more than likely to start welling up in his eyelids then sooner or later. Jimin bit down on his lip, letting his teeth sink into the plump, rosy flesh enough to nearly draw blood, just to get his mind off how breathless he felt all of a sudden.

His skin tone was a tiny bit paler than Jaehyun’s own, he realized, as he continued, ignoring any telltale signs of hurt that he was exhibiting and instead allowing his eyes dart over Jaehyun’s features (including the cheeks that were still in the palms of Jimin’s hands) – features that he hadn’t seen in so long. He didn’t think about it, only stopping to let his teeth sink into the skin over his lip just a little bit deeper.

Are you okay? was the first thing that was about to slip off Jimin’s tongue, pathetically enough – even when it was so, very obvious that Jaehyun was not okay. No, not in the slightest.

A tiny part of his brain had him wondering, for a split second, if Jaehyun was even worth it. He already knew the answer to that, though, and it was a hundred thousand times yes, because he was supposed to be Jaehyun’s best friend – supposed to look out for him, in the very least. Seeing Jaehyun crouched in a weaker position than Jimin had ever seen him felt like a cruel reminder to Jimin that he hadn’t. That he was a shit friend.

That he was an even shittier best friend.

(He was even convinced, at that point, that if there was an all-around award for that, he’d probably be the one getting it.)

He’d let Jaehyun avoid him, then he’d done worse and avoided Jaehyun, himself. He’d allowed the rift to form between them, allowed himself to stop texting Jaehyun when he wouldn’t get any replies. And, thinking back, it was his drunken self that caused the rift in the first place. In any angle he looked at it, it was his fault. He was the one who should have felt guilty – should have tried to patch things up between them before it was too late. It was how he was looking at it in hindsight. He understood it, at least, that it was his fault.

That was precisely why when Jaehyun lifted a hand to the back of his neck and breathlessly apologized to Jimin – apologized, of all things – Jimin was quick to shake his head, calloused fingertips running over the wetness over Jaehyun’s cheekbones as he lifted his gaze meet with Jaehyun’s all over again. Jimin suddenly found himself caught between wanting to laugh, and wanting to cry. (He did neither.)

“Don’t apologize, Jaehyun.” He spoke, voice bordering on scratchy in comparison to what it usually sounded like. The sentence was supposed to be in the imperative mood, but to Jimin’s ears he oddly found it sounding as if he was asking Jaehyun not to apologize – almost begging him to.

“I mean you don’t have to apologize, alright, baby? You didn’t do anything wrong. If anyone should be apologizing, it’s me, and– And, I’m sorry.”

The words fell from his lips, and Jimin found himself moving so that he was far closer than he had been, reducing the proximity in just a single shift of his position. In a second, he found his hands sliding down to rest over Jaehyun’s shoulders, his gaze unwavering from where it’d been locked on Jaehyun’s own.

In hindsight, he thought he probably should have seen it coming. Asking someone like Lee Junho to take his notes for him wasn’t the brightest idea to begin with, especially when he’d decided to add in a fee for the handed task. It wasn’t like he didn't have the money, because he did, it was just that he’d have rather received proper notes in return for the fifty-some dollars he’d been offering.

In all the times he’d properly spoken to the (surly?) second-year, Jimin hadn’t backed away at the first sight of threat, and he certainly wasn’t starting then now, despite being well aware that conceit wasn’t going to get him anywhere good. He took a deep breath, eyeing Junho as the male advanced forwards, because he didn’t think he was afraid. He was afraid of a lot of things (spiders, mostly) but he was at least ninety-percent sure that he wasn’t afraid of Lee Junho – he ignored the other ten-percent. Generally, he’d thought the second-year was a little bit more intimidating during his first few weeks in Mugunghwa, but Jimin found himself realizing, weeks after, that intimidating hadn’t been the right word for it – it was unsettling. 

Club Seokjeon. A frown settled over Jimin’s features upon him hearing the location, because, if Junho wanted to try throwing a few punches, why couldn’t he do it right then and there? He didn’t get the chance to argue, his eyebrows proceeding to knot right under his forehead. Was Junho threatening him?

The answer to that was as clear as glass, he supposed.

“Fine.” He spoke, eyes narrowing for something of a split second before his expression was replaced with one far more amused than its preceder. He’d make sure Junho wouldn’t have to find him at all, then. Club Seokjeon. 9:00 PM.

Perhaps he was still at the library.

Within a minute, he managed to pack his things, push his chair back into its original placement, and head right back out. The weather outside was decent enough, he supposed, seeing as it wasn’t too warm or too cool out. It was somewhere in between, and it was getting close to being late, and thus the sky was decorated with hues of orange, red, purple, and the like. Jimin did as he’d been previously hoping to and walked, wandering around with his head occasionally popping up to sneak a glance at the sunset sky before dropping back to his surroundings.

By the time he reached the on-campus dorm, it was probably later than late. There weren’t as many people out in the courtyards, and Jimin found himself wanting to hang around for a little while (but then shook it off when he recalled the assignment he had to finish the next day). It didn’t take too long for him to reach his dorm, and after dropping the belongings onto his bed, he took to fishing out his camera, wanting to review the shots he’d taken before stepping into the library.

Only, the camera felt lighter in his grip, for some reason. His immediate response was confusion, but he took out the memory card either way, pulling his computer out and inserting it almost as soon as it booted up.

What he found was that, rather expectedly, the photos weren’t his. He couldn’t recall taking any of the photos, and that left him all the more confused because he remembered bringing it into the library with him. He’d definitely brought it into the library with him.

Then, after a couple of seconds trying to figure out how on earth he’d managed to lose a camera that fast, his thoughts flew back to the girl he’d been sitting next to, wondering if she’d been the one to take his camera.

He didn’t take too long to search through the bag (that unlike his own, did not contain a ‘IF LOST, PLEASE RETURN TO...’ card, and it was then that a sigh fell from his lips as he rushed to put a pair of shoes on, wondering to himself if she’d have gone back to the library. It was unlikely, but this was Jimin’s camera. 

“I’ll pack them into the holders later, you need to get back before that dorm master comes, I heard he’s ridiculously unreasonable,” Seokjin mumbled with a small pout before continuing, “And these cupcakes, you can have some too since you have helped out so much today.”

“But it’s sad… I was hoping to see you mess up and I’ll feed you with that cupcake,” Seokjin chuckled as his eyes twinkled slightly at his comment before folding the boxes for Jimin to carry his cupcake home.

The idea of putting icing as sweet as that into his mouth didn’t sound too appealing to Jimin, so he held back on the thought of trying any without the blandness to accompany it. He didn’t really have anything to say, so he resolved to lifting his shoulders in a shrug and shaking his head. His head popped up when he heard the sound of a shuffling movement, and within seconds Seokjin managed to bring out a packet of strawberries and put one between his teeth. It didn’t take long for Jimin to realize that he was staring, and quick enough, he averted his gaze to his very interesting shoes – also known as, an old pair of Nike’s that he was really considered switching out.

But then Seokjin shuffled over to where he was standing, and again, Jimin seemed to choke up at the proximity between him and the elder male, getting flustered for seemingly no reason. Jimin noticed the single strawberry in Seokjin’s hand, but he didn’t pay it too much attention, suddenly occupied with his forehead pressed against Seokjin’s, who he also had to admit looked even prettier up close. The mere thought of kissing Seokjin had Jimin wanting craving more, even if the idea of a date was more appealing in both his and Seokjin’s eyes. It took a few seconds after the cold flesh of the strawberry being pressed against his lips for him to respond, taking it in completely with a single bite, and it was good – chewy, a little sour, but good.

“Ah, thanks.” He said, releasing a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding before bringing himself to turn back to the counter, where there wasn’t much work left to do. The one word flashing through Jimin’s head (besides ‘Seokjin’, well enough) was ‘awkward’, and Jimin could see why. He coughed, eyeing a few of the cupcakes set out on the countertop. “You could always bake something else, like, cookies or something. I bet they’d turn out just as good, right?”

Then Jimin released a quiet chuckle at the mention of the dorm master. “He’s a little old-fashioned, but yeah, I should be going.” It was getting late, and Jimin didn’t want to take too long on the way over to his dormitory, not to mention the fact that it was getting a little bit too dark outside. “It’s fine, you don’t have to.”

He said the words a little bit weakly, blinking as the elder went to fix a box up and releasing a chuckle no less than seconds later. “I was kind of hoping for that, too.” And it took him a moment or two, but he managed to walk over to where Seokjin was, standing right at the elder’s side, this time surveying up close.

It was proven time after time when he would do nothing but practice for several hours at a time, knowingly wearing himself down in the process. A lot of people mistook it for steadfast persistence, but Jimin knew deep down inside that the chief fuel for that was his stubbornness above all. He’d been told, time after time, that his body wasn’t a machine, and overworking it would only lead to its collapse eventually – but sometimes Jimin didn’t bother to listen.

That stubbornness – the ridiculously tiny voice at the back of his head nagging at him, telling him to push just a little bit harder to get to the level of his fellow clubmates – for some reason, it wasn’t there that day. It wasn’t there, not when he was shaking the first place winner’s hand, nor when the the silver medal was put around his neck. He’d beaten contestants in his year, as well as upperclassmen, and for him right then, he supposed it was enough. He felt accomplished, and perhaps that had done a significant job in muting down his usual approach to things. Perhaps.

Perhaps it didn’t really matter, though, because when he stood a good few meters from the pool, his thought process had already moved on to something entirely different. He was standing alongside the two men who’d placed first and third, a towel hanging over his shoulders, and his eyes were looking over the small crowd spectators, searching for signs of a single person he’d been silently hoping he’d get to see after weeks of avoidance.

He definitely recalled setting the reminder on Jaehyun’s phone before he’d brought Jaehyun out to the party that Jimin seemed to only remember in fragments, like shards of a broken reflection that he couldn’t recall enough to label as memories. He’d gotten far too much to drink that night, and all he knew was that after that night, Jaehyun disappeared without a trace – avoiding him, most probably. 

He knew that at some point, he’d had to have either done something really stupid, or said something really stupid seeing as both were a regular occurence whenever he found himself drinking just a smidge too much. If he had, then he couldn’t really blame Jaehyun – it stung, sometimes a little bit more than it would usually – but he couldn’t blame him. He was bound to cross paths with the elder sooner or later, even if the elder didn’t respond to any of his texts (which, unfortunately, he hadn’t). He’d been hanging on to a string of hope that Jaehyun would show up to the competition, because he’d told Jaehyun about it, quite a bit more than once. He’d told Jaehyun about how much it meant to him – how much swimming meant to him – and realizing that a little bit too late, he felt his chest sink.

Whatever’d happened that night really had been bad.

His gaze was then moving to his feet, eyes narrowing in frustration as he tried to rack his brain, not really knowing what to expect from his subconscious. He wanted to suddenly remember what it was that had Jaehyun avoiding him at all costs, but what he got instead, was just … blank. He released a groan, lifting a hand to run it through his wet hair (which, he had to admit, was more annoying than anything) – but all too suddenly, he felt the weight of a hand over his shoulder, and he found himself almost jumping at the contact.

He craned his neck to the side, feeling a little relieved to find out that it was one of the other swimmers – a short girl with her dark hair that he could recall seeing at most of the swim meets. “Are you feeling okay?”

The question was straightforward – or as straightforward as it could have been, really – and despite that, Jimin found himself blinking a couple of times, lips parting then coming back to a shut, ready to mumble a short ‘yes’ so he could get back to watching the contestants participating in the rest of the events, but quickly backing out last second. Thoughts racing in his head, Jimin brought himself to a pause, eyebrows knotting as he took a second to really ask himself that. Was he okay? 

A couple of seconds later, he shook his head, the piece of satisfaction he’d had left in his body draining in a split second, leaving him just a tiny bit number than he’d been in the week that had passed. He took a step to the side, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he snuck a cursory glance at the nearest exit. “I’m not.”

He didn’t know precisely how long it took him to rush out the door and make his way over to the locker room, the only thing on his mind being a fresh change in his locker that he was planning on practically jumping into then getting himself out of there – away from there. After taking a step inside, he noticed almost instantly, though, that something was off. Where he’d been expecting complete silence in the cold, seemingly empty room, he was met with the sound of someone– Someone crying.

What he hadn’t been exepcting, when he’d rapidly made his way through the gaps between the lockers towards the source of the sound, was to find Ahn Jaehyun sitting beside the lockers, tears streaming down his cheeks, an unmistakable dent in one of the lockers above him. He couldn’t explain it, but all too suddenly, he found his chest constricting, his breathing taking a more rapid pace, and his head feeling a dozen of times lighter. He couldn’t relate the feeling to anything besides feeling as if he was underwater, struggling to breathe as he slowly took in the scene in front of him.

He wasn’t complaining, though. The library was a little more crowded than usual, and instead of getting a table to himself, he soon pulled up on one of the nearest tables where a girl was set up without not taking too much space. Undoubtedly, though, he still had his manners, and he asked if he could sit before doing so, and thankfully enough, the girl agreed.

Soon enough he began setting up, putting both his shoulder bag and his smaller camera bag on the table, then proceeding to pull out his laptop and open a document he’d drafted earlier (one he’d so creatively titled ‘ESSAY’), wanting to get to work as soon as possible so he could head out and take a couple of shots with his camera, which despite the fact that he liked doing, he didn’t do often enough.

His surroundings were quickly muted down as he began typing every now and then, reorganizing his thoughts on the document in front of him to try and come up with a good enough essay (good enough to pass him, at least). The girl wasn’t a bother, really, not like he’d been half-expecting her to be, so when she started packing up, he couldn’t help but watch, suddenly dragged back to reality when her voice broke through the silence that’d been progressively building itself around them.

Almost instantly, his gaze fell to the outfit he’d chosen, which consisted mostly of a flimsy white T-shirt and a pair of basketball shorts, and even when he knew that she had a point when the weather was getting considerably chillier, he still released a quiet chuckle and shook his head. “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”

He returned the smile she’d given him, though, bobbing his head and releasing yet another muted chuckle. “Thank you.” He responded, shooting the girl one last hint of a smile before going back to his laptop where he’d only finished a quarter of the work he was supposed to. “Same goes for you.” He mumbled, as he quickly went back to typing on the keyboard, tongue protruding from the tiny crack between his lips in concentration.

Sooner enough, Jimin’s breathing returned to its regular pace, his heartbeat softening along with that as well – it was as if his entire body was relaxing after running a marathon (only that right there wasn’t exactly the case). Jimin hadn’t noticed it earlier but it seemed he was clutching on to the edge of the pool a little bit too much, his knuckles turning white before he finally let go, relief pouring into his system when he felt the bottom of the pool beneath his feet. Expectedly, his entire form was soaked, starting from the crown of his head to the tips of his toes, where even the layers of clothing he had on were nearly nothing of a barrier between him and the water. He could’ve only hoped he’d left spare clothing in his locker.

Jimin almost scoffed at the male’s reply, an eyebrow arching when he tried pulling himself out of the water (and failed doing so). Coming from someone who he’d just then saved, he would’ve expected something a little nicer (though to be fair, it wasn’t like Jimin was being particularly nice in return, either). “Yeah, you’re right. No one asked.”