Chapter Text
Senior year. Jimin would be lying if he said he weren’t scared. He was nervous, jittery, and and maybe a little bit afraid- or perhaps pretty scared. The daunting white gates of Daegu Boys’ High School were looming over him; threatening to devour him until he was left wallowing in his own misery. It had been, after all, his personal hell for the past two years.
He shook his head in vain, as if the action would remove his current thoughts. It had been there last night too, a nagging voice in the corner of his mind. The voice told him that his efforts were wasted. That starving himself for two months over the summer would not make a difference. People, who were supposed to be his peers, would still laugh at him, call him a pig, pour the trash at him, push him around, and shame him for his obesity. That is what they have been doing ever since he stepped into the school with his rectangular-rimmed glasses and One Piece backpack. Would losing 70 pounds really make a difference?
With his eyes cast down and ears plugged with earphones, he shuffled to the notice board to check for his homeroom. So far, no one had paid him any attention and he made sure to keep away from anyone too. Make yourself small, make yourself invisible… he repeated to himself, as he had for the past two years. Only this time, he finally seemed to have succeeded for he no longer had to hide his 200 pounds self. This time, he was the same weight as everybody else around him and he seemed to fit in.
3C, 3C, 3C… He found his classroom and walked in, slowly raising his head to see who was in his class. It didn’t really matter; every year, there was a new set of bullies who would make sure that his life was a living hell. Nevertheless, he wanted to make sure that Choi Seungho or his close followers were not in his class.
He took his seat, which was close to the window, and finally relaxed as he realized that 1. Choi Seungho was not in his class, 2. No one was paying attention to him, and 3. His classmates were pretty occupied by a certain boy, who was sitting in front of him. The said boy was chuckling softly, surrounded by six more boys around him. All Jimin could see was the guy’s back, with broad shoulders that hugged his dark blue uniform snugly, and his brownish hair that had a tinge of red when the sunlight touches them.
“But seriously, you should have seen how I defeated Sungjae! That boy can’t play anything for shit.” The boy whined, voice deep and playful, and his Daegu accent strong. The boys around him cackled and hooted, cheering him on.
Jimin took his eyes away from the scene, peeling his earphones off to stuff them into his bag, and taking out his books. It was 7:50 AM and so far, no one has pushed or tripped him, threw the trash on his table, or insulted him. Jimin could not even remember the last time this has happened to him ever since he entered this school. He smiled to himself, perhaps this year would be a tiny bit bearable.
With 5 minutes remaining before classes start, the boys in front of him dispersed to their seats. The boy in front of him turned around to grab something from his bag. His eyes suddenly met Jimin’s.
To say that the boy was handsome was an understatement; he had brown almond eyes that twinkled with mischief, a tall straight nose, and a perfectly chiseled face. Jimin forced himself to look down… Do not make eye contact, do not make eye contact.
“Hey” the boy greeted.
Do not make eye contact, do not make eye contact.
“I’m Taehyung, Kim Taehyung. What about you?” A hand was extended, it was all Jimin could see with his head casted down.
Kim Taehyung, of course he’s heard that name before. He was, after all, the smartest guy in their entire year. He was popular for being friendly, dashing, and absolutely amazing in math. Jimin had never seen or talked to this guy; how could he when he was too busy hiding away from everyone for the past two years?
“Can you hear me?” The guy asked again, wiggling his extended arm on Jimin’s face.
Jimin took a deep breath. He can do this, he told himself. He was no longer Pork Jimin or Pig Jimin; he was Park Jimin for the first time in years. He extended his own hand clumsily, “Ji-Jimin.” He stuttered, looking up to see the handsome man waiting for him expectantly.
He shook Jimin’s hand firmly. With a boxy smile, he added, “I’ve never seen you before. We should be friends!”
Friends… Jimin had not had one ever since he moved to Daegu.
“Um yeah sure.” Jimin mumbled, escaping Taehyung’s probing gaze.
“So, do you play any games?” Taehyung asked as their hands separated; he left his arm resting on Jimin’s desk, intending to continue the conversation.
Jimin could feel his cheeks burning. When was the last time he had a conversation in this school? Never… Jimin murmured, “A little bit of Overwatch”.
Taehyung clapped his hands together, “That’s awesome! We should play together sometime!” He beamed. He opened his mouth to say something else when the bell rang and someone closed the door.
“My name is Kim Nam Joon. I’m an English Teacher and your homeroom teacher for this year.” A tall man with short minty blue hair, small eyes, and thick lips stood in front of the class. He had a Seoul accent and a masculine deep voice. He scanned the class once, before placing his hands on the table. Gripping a wooden stick in his left hand, he added, “You’re all high school seniors, I expect you to act like one. Before you know it, you’ll be taking the college entrance exams and your future depends on it.” He stopped, letting the words sink in. His dark brown eyes softened and his shoulder relaxed as he continued, “Sometimes you might think I’ll work really hard. Some other times you might think, do I really have to? But I don’t think you need to live fiercely all the time, you just need to work hard so you won’t have regrets.” The man finished.
With his last words, Jimin immediately like the man. He might seem intense but he had also looked wise. More importantly, seemed like he really cared about his students. Jimin hoped that was true. Perhaps this time, this teacher would not stand idly while Jimin was being bullied. Taehyung turned abruptly, a snicker on his face as he told Jimin, “He seems cool!” Jimin nodded shyly, unaccustomed to anyone talking to him while he was in school.
Perhaps this time, he would not be bullied at all. Perhaps.
#######
Jimin was sweating profuself. His heart was beating loudly as the seconds ticked by, reaching lunch time. So far, no one in his class had thrown a paper at him or made an insulting remark. When their names were called in the morning for attendance, Jimin closed his eyes and raised his hand. To his relief, only seven pairs of eyes gawked at him. He had been classmates with those 7 boys in the past two years. While they did not bully him, they also did not help when he was being bullied. The pairs of eyes stared at him with disbelief, as if they were looking for the other 70 pounds that used to be a part of his body. He =, however, did not meet their eyes. He could not meet their eyes. Thankfully, no one said anything and they pretended not to know him.
Yet with lunch time approaching, Jimin could not help but panic. The bullies always found him during lunch, always pushed him around, always made him hide in some science lab as he ate his home-cooked meal. Would today be any different? Jimin did not dare to hope.
The bell rang suddenly, making him jump.
Just then, Taehyung stood and turned to Jimin expectedly, “Do you think they have strawberry milk today? And custard cream bun? I swear to god, they need strawberry milk but they pretend that they don’t!” he complained, arms flailing as his eyebrows burrowed.
Jimin looked up in surprise, unsure of how to respond. They held each other’s gaze in silence for a couple of seconds as everyone in class rushed out. Taehyung pouted, “Are you standing up or what?”
He was waiting… for me? Jimin was a mess. He scurried to take his lunchbox and stood eagerly, “mm yeah, let’s go.”
He followed Taehyung as they walked to the cafeteria, eyes cast down and avoiding eye contact with anyone who might recognize him.
“You’re not new, are you?” Taehyung asked casually, a couple of minutes later as they walked out of class.
“Uh um, no I’m not new.” Jimin muttered, wondering if Taehyung was being nice to him because he thought he was a new student.
“That’s weird…” Taehyung tilted his head, “How come you don’t seem to know anyone?”
Jimin bit his lip, contemplating on how to explain his situation. I was bullied for two years for being extremely fat and now I’ve lost weight? Or maybe I should lie? Jimin decided that neither of those options seemed to be a good start to a budding friendship. The only friendship he’s had or might have-
“It’s okay, you don’t have to answer that.” Taehyung had halted walking, turning to face Jimin with a serious expression. He punched Jimin’s shoulder lightly and continued, “Let’s just get some strawberry milk, yea?”
Jimin nodded, a small grin threatening to escape from his lips.
With each step towards the cafeteria, Jimin’s anxiety died down a little. No one had looked at him mockingly or anything similar. In fact, he seemed invisible and he loved that feeling. Invisible for all, except for Taehyung, who kept babbling wholeheartedly. It turned out that Taehyung’s bestfriend, Sungjae, had transferred to Seoul for his last year of high school and most of his friends were actually friends of Sungjae. He disliked hanging out with them now because doing so reminded him of Sungjae, so he needed time to adjust first. That would explain why Taehyung was hanging out with Jimin, but Jimin did not mind. In fact, Jimin felt like he wouldn’t mind anything as long as Taehyung kept him company. “Maybe later, we can all hang out together.” Taehyung added; Jimin wondered whether he was included in the “we” but he was too scared to ask. Instead, he just nodded and trailed behind Taehyung as they reached the counter.
Jimin stopped in his tracks; his heart dropping to his stomach. In front of Taehyung stood Choi Seungho and his goons, laughing boisterously. Those assholes have ruined Jimin’s life . No matter how this day had turned to be different from the past two years, Jimin found himself locked inside the garbage shed again: crying as Choi Seungho laughed outside the door separating him. Shivering as Choi Seungho poured the garbage at him, placed disgustingly wet leaves at the top of his head and mocked him as “manggaetteok”.
Taehyung placed his hand on Jimin’s shoulder, waking him up from his nightmare. Taehyung’s brown clear eyes were worried, searching Jimin’s face as he said, “Hey, you’re shaking.”
“I-um, should go-” Jimin whispered, still shaken. As soon as he spoke, Choi Seungho turned and met his eyes. Jimin was ready to run. The entire summer, he ran and ran and ran. He ran to lose weight. He ran while the winds carried away his tears. He ran so that he can run quickly should the need, should this moment arrive. Jimin gulped, he can do this. He can run this time, quick with a lithe body and escape from Choi Seungho.
To his surprise, Choi Seungho averted his eyes and continued chatting his friends. He averted his eyes. Without taunting or insulting Jimin. He averted his eyes. He averted his eyes! Choi Seungho ignored Park Jimin.
That was enough for Jimin. That was enough for all the nights he could not sleep because of his hunger. That was enough for the dawns he spent running despite his body hurting. That was enough for all that hard work and suffering.
“Let’s get that strawberry milk.” Jimin’s eyes found Taehyung’s and for the first time today, he smiled.
#######
Jimin should have known. He should have been more prepared for this yet Taehyung’s friendly personality had clouded his judgement. He had hoped, that was his first mistake. His second mistake was volunteering to clean up the room after everyone had left. Taehyung had offered to help but Jimin refused. He had wanted to clean the classroom himself for the first time. Why? Because it almost made him feel like a normal high school student.
Something so trivial, so normal for others had been a privilege for him. In the past, he had tried to escape this hellhole as quick as he can for fear of further bullying. But today, he thought it would be different. Today, he had dared to hope to be normal and it was about to slap him in the face.
“Hey Pork Jimin!” a menacing voice boomed from the doorway. Jimin’s hands faltered, the books falling from his grasp to his feet. He slowly searched for the source of the voice, hoping to god that it was not real. That it was just an imagination.
As luck would have it, Choi Seungho stood leaning in the doorway. His eyes glittering with raw malice. “I almost didn’t recognize you, you know.” He snickered, taking a tentative step towards Jimin.
Jimin froze in fear, returning to the slob of a coward that he used to be in front of Choi Seungho. He was fat again, without friends and without hope. Jimin was petrified, unable to run. That was his third mistake.
“You honestly thought losing all of that weight will change you?” Choi Seungho challenged, raising a pierced eyebrow. “No, you’re still the same old swine that you were before.” He smiled darkly before he sprang onto action, catching Jimin’s head between his arms before Jimin can even think of evading.
“You’re still the same disgusting blob of fat, who was a fucking waste of space. You pig.” His arms tightened around Jimin’s neck and tears welled in Jimin’s eyes. Choi Seungho had always been a bully in public but he was a violent man behind the curtains. He was hostile, remorseless, and at that moment, his eyes were black with cruelty.
Jimin struggled against his grip. He tried to, really tried to. Yet it was all in vain, it was all useless. Whether he was 200 or 130 pounds, he was still too weak, too small, too cowardly to fight back.
Seungho threw Jimin to the ground, breathing harshly. He grinned like a mad man and started kicking Jimin in his stomach as he taunted, “I almost broke your arm last year. Today, I’m going to break your rib.” Another kick. “You should have kept those layers of fat; they protected you, you know that pig?” Another kick. “You’re nothing but a punching bag and you think losing those fat will change anything?” Another kick.
Jimin could taste blood in his mouth. The kicks continued to come, hitting his chest and abdomen. Yet after a while, the pain began to dull. He was, after all, used to it. Getting beaten up for his weight, being laughed at for his appearance. Pain, whether it was physical, mental or emotional, was not foreign to him. It had been his constant companion throughout the years, along with self-hatred.
Seungho took Jimin’s face into his hands roughly, spitting at him before he cooed, “And now I’m going to break that pretty face of yours, Pork Jimin.” He extended his leg as much as he can, stretching to deliver a heavy kick that would break Jimin’s nose.
Jimin closed his eyes, preparing for the blow. This was his fault, after all. He dared to hope that things would be different. He had been foolish and careless.
It should be a little bit of pain.
Just a little bit
Just a little
Just a
Just-
The kick never came. He could suddenly hear the sounds of bones hitting against bone. He could hear heavy breathing and a low growl.
Yet the kick never came.
So Jimin opened his eyes.
A few meters from him laid Choi Seungho. His big body was on the floor, his face was bloody. On top of him was a small, slim man with silver hair. The man was punching Seungho, Jimin belatedly realized. He watched as the small man delivered punches after punches, breaking Seungho’s nose. Jimin watched, unable to move from the pain in his abdomen. He couldn’t completely understand the situation unfolding in front of him.
The silver-haired man got off Seungho and turned to Jimin. His sharp eyes were sad, his porcelain skin tinted with Seungho’s blood. His thin lips were pursed together, angry. “Park Jimin?” The small man asked; his voice deep, husky and familiar.
The man was familiar. Too familiar.
Jimin squinted his eyes, trying to remember, trying to place a name on the face. The man extended his hand to Jimin, a bloody and veiny fair hand.
That’s when it clicked. That’s when Jimin remembered.
“M..Min Yoongi?”
The man in front of Jimin was Min Yoongi.
The man who started all the bullying two years ago.
The man who turned Park Jimin’s life into a living hell.