Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“A what?” I stared at Hoseok over the dinner table.

He tilted his head, confused. “A hybrid. Seriously, I think it would be the best way to make sure Haru is taken care of when you’re working.”

I squinted at my empty plate. I’d seen the ads in the mail, on the TV, in every store I shopped. Hybrids are the best help around the home. You’ll never be lonely again! Good with children, great with pets. This god-forsaken city was full of shelters and adoption agencies and most certainly full of ads.

I shook my head. “Hobi, that sounds like a terrible idea. Why would I invite another whole person into my house when I barely have time to take care of my job, my son, and a certain neighbor’s endless appetite for home cooking?”

“So we find you a hybrid that can cook and clean.”

Still shaking my head, I got up and started stacking the dinner dishes. “Look, I don’t know much about hybrids. There’s got to be a simpler solution.”

“Yeah, a hybrid is the simple solution.” Hoseok frowned at me as he gathered the mugs up. “Why is this such a weird idea to you?”

“Hobi.”

It clicks. His face relaxes. “Oh, right. You’re new here. I still can’t believe that— where was it, Jordan City? — doesn’t have hybrids. That’s so bizarre in this modern day.”

“Wouldn’t be bizarre to you if you’d ever seen Jordan City,” I muttered.

“What?”

“Oh, nothing. Just— imagine that you’re so far back in the woods you have to drive an hour to get your groceries. Now imagine that you’ve called a collection of 6 houses, 3 churches, and a stoplight a ‘city’. We didn’t have much of anything. The first time I saw an ad for a hybrid I thought it was a movie poster or something, not real life.”

Hoseok was running water into the sink. “They’re really not that intimidating. They’re just…” The water kept running while he thought, tilting his head and poking out his lips. “I mean, they’re…”

I laughed at his funny expression. “See? You grew up with them and it’s still hard to describe.”

Hoseok turned to face me. “You should get the genetically modified bit, though. It’s literally your job.”

He was so serious that he sent me into another round of laughter. “Not really. I work with plants, dummy. People are different.”

“Really?” Hoseok scowled when I kept laughing. “I mean, still the same principle, right? The same theory, as you like to say?”

“Sure, sure. The same theory.” I wiped my eyes. “Very different applications.”

Hoseok studied me. “So we get you some reading on this application, and then you’ll get it.”

I jutted out my chin. “Are you assigning me homework?”

“Yeah. It’s the only way to get you to listen.”

“I’ll have you know, I resent that.”

“I’ll have you know, I don’t care.”

I gasped in mock indignation. Before I could retort, I felt warm water seeping through my socks and gasped for real. Hoseok had forgotten the gushing faucet. “Hobi! The sink!”

“Oh shit!” Hoseok slammed down the faucet handle and cut off the water supply, but it was too late. We stared at the puddle slowly expanding on the floor beneath the sink. I looked at Hoseok.

“Oops?” he said sheepishly. Then broke into his own gales of laughter.

I was passing the 3^rd batch of towels through to Hoseok when the apartment door opened and my little angel came screaming into the living room. I barely had time to shout, “Not the kitchenit’swet!” before Haru crashed into me, singing something unrecognizable at the top of his lungs. I threw the towels at Hoseok and scooped up my baby.

“Hey chickadee! I guess you had a good time, huh?” I planted a smooch on his curly black head.

“Ew, gross!” He wiggled, but I had him caught. “Jay taught me that song,” he shouted, still wiggling for all he was worth. “Did you like it?”

“I couldn’t really hear it, sweetheart.”

Haru launched into the song again.

I covered his mouth, laughing. “You’ll have to sing it for me later, baby. I can’t hear a word you’re saying when you’re so excited.” I looked up and grinned at Jungkook. “I guess he was a handful, huh?” Haru was still singing, a bit muffled behind my hand.

Jungkook groaned. “I have made so many mistakes in my life and yet this is the one that’s going to haunt me. Who knew Day6 was the equivalent of Red Bull for 6-year-olds?”

“That was Day6?” I grimaced. “I guess I’m going to have to save up for vocal lessons along with his college fund. Do you guys give a discount for pint-sized rascals?” I carefully lowered my hand from Haru’s mouth. His noise had subsided.

Jungkook blushed a little. “We don’t do voice lessons,” he said, trying to be casual.

“That’s not what I heard,” Hoseok called from the kitchen. He appeared in the doorway, sopping wet towels in hand. “I heard you offered vocal lessons to a very pretty girl the other day.” He gestured with the towels. “Where do these go?”

“Down the hall to the left.” Hoseok disappeared again. I turned back to Jungkook, who wouldn’t meet my eyes. “A very pretty girl, huh?” I teased.

“Shut up.” His hand went to his ear. “It was a favor for a friend.”

“Ooooh, a favor for a very pretty girl— friend.”

Jungkook’s ears and neck were flaming. “Not like that.” he huffed.

Hoseok was back. “But she is pretty, hmmm?”

Jungkook facepalmed. “Oh my God, you guys are the worst!”

“We’re the worst,” Hoseok and I chorused.

“But Mommy said you were the best!” We all looked at Haru, who explained happily. “When you brought us pizza. After you were gone Mommy cried and said you were the best neighbors! And that we were lucky to have you in this—” he paused. “In this steaming hell-hole of a capitalist dystopia.” He looked at me. “What’s a dystopia?”

I cleared my throat, avoiding eye contact with the others. “A dystopia is an imaginary place where people aren’t treated fairly.”

Haru screwed up his face. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“I know. I was just a little mad that day, baby.”

Haru looked around. “The pizza was really good.”

Hoseok leaned in and ruffled his hair. “We’ll be sure to bring it over some other time, then.” Hoseok glanced at me, then quietly said, “Think it over. Please. A hybrid could help in a lot of ways.” He patted Haru’s hair one more time. “Don’t forget to brush your teeth, big guy.”

Hoseok and Jungkook slipped out the door as I took Haru to his room for pyjamas. He happily chattered all about his adventures with “Jay” at the dance studio, and I silently thanked my neighbors one more time for their promise. Through them, Haru would get plenty of chances to explore this city that still scared me before his surgery.

Haru finished brushing his teeth and blinked up at me, finally sleepy. “I’ll tuck you in,” I said, unable to keep the fond smile from my face. He climbed into bed and I smoothed the blankets over him. “A good day, huh?”

“Yeah.” He watched me turn on his night light. “Mommy?”

“Hmmm?”

“What’s a hybrid?”

Chapter Text

A hybrid, as I slowly discovered, was something right out of an imaginary place where people were treated unfairly. Hoseok started sending me dozens of articles the next morning on their history, an overwhelming torrent of information about one of the strangest results of genetic experimentation. I worked with plant genomes to research disease. I knew the basics of genetic science. Hybrids weren’t exactly science, though.

According to the articles they were first “discovered” when a government project focused on mimicking human incubation went… awry. The project was initially created to find a way to help babies who were born prematurely. Then the 34th president of the country was elected. Since that president’s campaign slogan was “Masria: Leading the 25^th Century,” a lot of similar projects got rehauled, switching emphasis to more esoteric areas of scientific research in order to prove the country was at the forefront of scientific progress.

This particular project was reoriented to gestating human infants from fertilization. For ethical reasons, the researchers began with animal fetuses. After the process was perfected they moved on to working with harvested human gametes.

I couldn’t find much clarification on what happened next. A lot of the articles Hoseok sent (and the ones I searched for myself) were pure speculation. I worked in a lab, though, and I could guess one way it might have gone. Someone forgot to label something, someone else was in a hurry to start the next batch of fetuses. The materials the researchers worked with had already been modified so that they would be more receptive to fertilization. In the end, there was an enormous error. Animal and human genetic material got mixed together and the incubator systems were full of hybrids.

I still couldn’t understand why they survived. Those tiny lives should have ceased to exist shortly after they began, because the genetic instructions for growing were from two different species. The researchers themselves didn’t understand it. Some of the articles talked about a lightning storm that happened the night that first batch was fertilized. Some of the articles also talked about divine intervention, aliens, and how this miracle proved the earth was flat.

I didn’t care. It didn’t make sense logically, so I supposed it could have been aliens or even magic, but either way the result was the same. Mammal and human genetics mixed into some other thing entirely. Science had its limitations. Everyone who worked in the field knew that.

My phone dinged.

Hobi: have u finished ur homework???

Me: yeah but I don’t get it

Me: why would a hybrid help with Haru

Me: they’re genetically impossible creations of human hubris without

full rights and with abilities we don’t understand, not babysitters

Hobi: u didn’t finish ur homework (¬_¬)

Hobi: *attch_article_the_abilities_of_your_hybrid*

Hobi: * attch_article_why_hybrids_are_the_best*

Hobi: *attch_article_5_reasons_to_own_a_hybrid*

I sighed and put my phone aside as it kept dinging. My lunch break was almost over, and I had to get back to the greenhouse and prep for taking samples in a few weeks. We were working on winter wheat genomes. Although business buildings scraped the sky a mile away, this part of the city was my favorite, with its cleverly designed greenhouses and research facilities. One good thing the 34^th president had finished as he promised.

Jin already had his gloves on as I walked in. “Oh, come on,” he said as soon as he saw me. “It’s not even 2 and you’re already scowling. Your face is going to freeze like that and then I’m going to have to get eye surgery.” He handed me my gloves.

I scowled on purpose. “I’m the one who needs eye surgery.”

“Why, has my handsomeness finally blinded you?”

I wacked him with a glove. “I take it back. I need stomach surgery, because I’m about to puke.”

“Hey! There’s nothing wrong with confidence!” Jin struck a pose in the even light filtering through the greenhouse roof. I had to admit, his skin was radiant.

“Fine, fine. Confidence. Not arrogance.” I pulled on my gloves. “Drop the skincare routine, bestie.”

“Nope, it’s my secret weapon.” Jin put on his mask and picked up the fumigator. Muffled, he said, “Ready to smoke some grass?”

“Jin!”

“Ok, ok! Ready to scientifically fungalize these innocent plants?”

I snapped my own mask into place, lowered my goggles, and slung another fumigator over my shoulder. “Yeah, let’s go fungalize.”

Tired and sweaty from all the protective gear, we finished scrubbing down our hands just in time to clock out for the day. I glanced at my phone and groaned.

12 new messages from Hobi

Jin bumped me with his shoulder. “Why the long face?” he asked gently.

“Oh, just more homework.” I moved away.

Jin blinked twice. “What kind of homework are you doing after grad school?”

“I’ve got this neighbor who keeps insisting I should get a hybrid to help with Haru after his surgery. I’m very ignorant about them, and he’s trying to educate me to prove his point.” I sighed and picked up my bag. “It’s sweet, I guess.”

Jin was looking at me thoughtfully. “You know, that’s not such a bad idea.”

“Really? Because maybe I’m still ignorant, but so far all I’ve learned is that that their genes can’t explain their abilities. I don’t see how that helps.”

“Hmmm. This neighbor of yours has made a rookie mistake. He tried to appeal to a scientist, not a mom.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Jin’s eyes were warm as he held the door open for me. “I know someone who works with hybrids. I’ll get you some clearer info.”

“You’d better not send me any of those tearjerker shelter adoption ads.”

“What’s wrong with shelters?”

“Nothing, in fact I’d prefer that to a breeder, but those stupid ads are so manipulative. They make me sick.”

“Oh. The guy I know works at a shelter.” Jin winked. “Guess you’ll need that stomach surgery after all.”

“Jin!”

He laughed as he started down the path to the right of the greenhouse. “Don’t worry, I’ll send you only stuff that appeals to a mom. No science involved.”

I kicked a piece of gravel after him. “I’ll block you!”

I could hear him laughing long after he’d turned the corner.

Chapter Text

“Hi baby!” Haru’s backpack made an appearance before he did, both of them tumbling off the bus at the corner stop. “How was school?”

“’s good!” Haru careened into me, and I squeezed him tight. This was my favorite part of the day. “Mr. Kim got a new plant and it eats flies! And Ms. Ho said I was better at listening today. I was. I only fell out of my chair four times.”

“That’s so good!” It was an improvement; most days it was more like eight or nine misunderstandings with gravity. “Tell you what. To celebrate, let’s have ice cream.”

“Really?” Haru’s eyes sparkled, and I swore to myself I would buy him all the ice cream in the convenience store.

“Really!”

I swung his hand as we headed home. The little shop right next to our apartment building sold a pretty good assortment of ice creams. The middle-aged owners had been very kind to us when we moved in, offering to let us use their loading dock to park the van, and sending us up with a basket of ramen and triangle kimbap so we wouldn’t have to worry about lunch. Hoseok and Jungkook said they’d been there forever. Jungkook had hooked Haru on banana milk, so every school morning we stopped in and Haru counted out the coins for his school treat.

The shop door tinkled as I pushed it open, the AC a welcome relief from the early autumn heat. “Hi!” Haru shouted. He rushed straight for the counter.

Mr. Bang was behind the counter today, and he put down his guitar as we came in. “Why, hello, Haru! It’s a pleasant surprise to see you twice in one day.”

“Yeah, we can have ice cream today. Are you making a new song?”

“Just working on an old one. Ice cream, you say? What kind?”

Haru looked at me.

He really shouldn’t have all the ice cream in the store. I said, “Let’s do the fish kind and the watermelon kind.”

Haru nodded. “I like the fish kind. Can I get them out?”

“Go ahead, baby.”

Haru poked his hand in the small freezer and waved the frosty air around. He always took a little longer than necessary when it was hot out. Mr. Bang rang the ice creams up from memory and I quietly paid. Finally Haru had both packets in his hand and closed the freezer.

“Look! I drew you, Mr. Bang!”

Haru had done a wobbly version of the store’s logo on the inside of the freezer lid. I squinted. “Was that a portrait at one point?” I asked, turning to Mr. Bang.

He was grinning. “Kook told you about that, kiddo?”

Haru bounced. “Jay drew you and then you made it your store sign! He can draw so good.” Haru tore open his fish ice cream and took a giant bite.

I looked at Mr. Bang, confused. “If JK is such an artist, what is he doing as a dance teacher?”

Mr. Bang shrugged. “Sometimes when you’re good at everything it’s hard to figure out what you’re passionate about.”

Haru was lagging by the time we made up the stairs. Not for the first time, I wished our apartment wasn’t on the 6^th floor. It was going to be a problem after his surgery.

“Haru, sweetheart, let me see your shoes,” I said as soon as we got inside. He plopped down on the floor and pulled them off. “Are they hurting you?”

He shook his head. “No. They’re just getting short again.”

I looked at the two shoes. One normal, one with a two-inch sole. Shoes could only do so much when one leg grew and the other didn’t. I felt around the inside of both of them. “Ok, tell me if they start hurting. We can’t really get new shoes yet, because we’re going to fix your leg this time instead.”

Haru puffed out his cheeks. “I know, Mommy. It’s just a lot of stairs in a row. One stair and then another stair and then another stair and then another stair and then—” he fell backwards dramatically and splayed himself across the floor. “Another stair!” He sat up. “We should get a rocket.” He started putting his shoes back on.

“A rocket?”

“Yeah. Then we could just go vhoom! And land right inside our window.”

I laughed. “What if we got an elevator instead?”

“Yeah.” Haru put his head to one side. “That wouldn’t be fun, though.”

“No, I guess not.”

“Mommy?”

“What?”

“How come I don’t have a dad?”

I flinched. A quick breath, a swallow as my throat flooded with bitterness. “Sometimes families are just one parent, baby. Why do you ask?”

“The kids at school were talking about it.” Haru peered up at me, brow wrinkled and eyes big. “Even Yunseo knows who his dad is, even though his dad isn’t there. But I don’t know my dad’s name. They said maybe I didn’t ever have a dad. But everybody has to have a dad, right? Otherwise you can’t be alive.”

I closed my eyes. Deep breath. I smiled at my boy. “That’s right, baby. Everyone has to have a father, someone who made them. But not everyone has to have a dad. There’s all kinds of reasons for someone to just have a mom.”

Haru nodded. “Okay.” He dragged his backpack to the living room, pulling out fistfuls of crumpled paper. “I’ll tell them.”

I blinked. Relief. “Do you have a lot of homework?”

“No, only one page, but I can’t find it.” He was throwing the detritus of the school day on the carpet beside him.

I went over and crouched beside him. “What did it look like?” I started to uncrumple his papers. He’d gotten perfect marks.

“That’s it!” he grabbed at the blank worksheet in my hand, and I smoothed it on the coffee table for him.

“Ok, let me know when you’re finished,” I said, patting his head. I left and went quickly to the bathroom. My face, in the mirror, was blank. Good. I poked my cheek. Nothing. I smiled, experimentally. My eyes didn’t change, but it would do.

It would have to.

After supper Haru was allowed one hour of screentime. I could hear the little pings and blips from his game, and I folded open my laptop. Time to wade through Jin and Hoseok’s latest info dump.

Although the articles Jin had last sent were as promised not scientific, they were very enthusiastic about the advantages of owning a hybrid. Hybrids were apparently great companions, eager to please their owners and intelligent enough to help with tasks around the house. One column even insisted that although they weren’t allowed to drive, own property, or have a job, hybrids were human in every other way. I snorted quietly. That was a poor choice of words.

Some of Hoseok’s required reading was actually reassuring. Hybrids weren’t hard to take care of as long as they got enough attention. After a certain age, they could take care of themselves. They were loyal, trustworthy, and loving once bonded with a family. I was starting to see why Hoseok thought one would be such a good idea.

Then I opened up the link to “Amazing Feats: The Hidden Abilities of Your Hybrid.” This piece of sensationalism listed all the ways hybrids were better than humans. They had an incredible sense of smell and could sense changes in mood from scent alone. They could shift— no one knew quite how and this article was more interested in exclamation points than research— and have the tails and ears of their animal side to aid their senses and movement. They were unbelievably athletic, although this trait varied by type of hybrid. Some were super strong. Some were super fast. Some could climb impossible obstacles or jump impossible distances. This article even insisted hybrids could fully shift into human-sized versions of their animal type and use all the abilities of that animal. The illustrations were garish.

I folded my laptop closed and rubbed my eyes. Hoseok had outdone himself. I picked up my phone.

Me: Hobi.

Me: you think one of these:

*screenshot of illustration*

is a good companion for a sick child.

Me: Please explain your reasoning.

Hobi: (seen)

Hobi: (typing)

I locked my phone. “Haru, baby. It’s time for bed.”

“Ok, Mommy. I’ve got to get this guy.” His black hair curled around his ears. I needed to make sure he got a haircut soon. “Got him!” The 8-bit victory horns were cut short as he turned off his tablet. “Can I have two stories tonight?”

“We’ll see. You can’t be late to bed on a school night.”

Haru hurled himself off the couch. “I’ll be so fast!”

I laid out his school clothes for tomorrow while he washed up, brushed his teeth, and wiggled into his pajamas. Black hair dripping a little, he slid into bed. “Two stories?” he pleaded.

I smiled. “Ok, two stories.”

He beamed and pointed out the books. I read slowly, waiting for him to calm down. He was still wide awake when I was done. His eyes were fixed on me, not the page. I smoothed the little wrinkles between his eyebrows with my thumb. “What is it, baby?”

“Is it ok for me to know my dad— my father’s name?”

A swallow. “Sure, sweetheart. His name is Tyler. Tyler Lee.”

“Ok,” Haru said to the blanket. Then he looked up at me. “I’m glad you’re my mom,” he said, and hugged me.

I stared at the top of my baby’s head. He was so active that sometimes I forgot how smart he was. “Me too, darling.” I scooped him up, blankets irrelevant, and held him right next to my heart until I could breathe again.

Chapter Text

“Mr. Kim?” I knocked on the principal’s open office doorframe.

Some shuffling, the sound of a stack of papers being knocked over, and “Come in” wafted from the leafy interior. I stepped in. The principal emerged from behind a large painting with the papers, a watering can, and an absentminded smile. “Oh, hi, Ms. Quinn. Here for Haru?”

I stepped forward and nudged the spout of the watering can up so it would stop spilling on the carpet. “Yup.”

“Oh, thanks.” Mr. Kim set the watering can on his desk. “He should be ready to go. I think they were just getting in from recess.” He reached for the intercom.

“I can run over to the classroom, it’s no bother,” I said.

Mr. Kim’s hand hovered. “I should let Jessi know anyway.” He rang through a private line. “She’s ready whenever you are.” His eyes flicked over me and then suddenly sharpened, coming to rest on my face. “Wait, is today the day?”

I let out a breath. “Yeah.”

He hummed. “Wow, and I was just about to ask you to look at my tillandsia ionatha. That would have been insensitive.” He made a face.

“Actually, I’d love the distraction, Mr. Kim.”

“I think I’ve told you it’s Namjoon when there’s no children around.” He winked and shuffled off between the towers of houseplants and art that threatened to overtake his office. “She’s over here.”

Once the little air plant was in better sunlight with plenty of space to help it dry out, we walked down the hall to Haru’s classroom. “Just let me know how long it’s going to be,” Namjoon said. “We’ll figure out the accommodations as soon as we know what we need to work with.”

I stopped at the door. “I really can’t thank you enough. You have all been so generous—”

Namjoon put a hand on my shoulder. “You have enough on your plate. We’re going to help, I promise. In any way we can.”

I nodded, stepping back but holding his gaze. “Thank you. Sincerely. You and Ms. Ho have been a godsend to both of us.”

“Then we’re doing our jobs well.” Namjoon grinned, almost boyish, and headed back to his overgrown office.

I gently pushed open the classroom door. “Hi!”

Ms. Ho turned in the middle of 16 first-graders clamoring for their own favorite book for read aloud. “Hi!” Her eyes genuinely lit up, and I felt a smile spread over my face as she disentangled herself. “Emma! Come here gorgeous!”

I let myself be swept up in a hug. “Hey girl!”

She pulled back, holding my arms. “Ready for this?”

“No,” I answered honestly.

“Hey, it’s going to be fine. You’re smart, and the tike is tough. You’ve got this!”

I laughed. “That’s the worst pep talk I’ve ever heard, Jessi.”

“Yeah, but it worked. You’ve lost that frown.” She tweaked my nose and let go, turning to the children. “Hey kids! Butts on seats, okay?” They scrambled for the mats. “Haru, sweetie, got your backpack? I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Haru gave her a high five on his way to me. “Bye guys!” He tucked his hand in mine. “It’s fun to get out of school early.”

I swung his hand back and forth as we walked down the hall. “How are you feeling, buddy?” I asked.

“It’s fun. Do you think the hospital will smell weird?”

“Probably. They might poke your leg a lot, and they’re going to take a lot of X-rays.”

“I know, Mommy. It’s ok. The X-ray machine makes cool sounds, and I like the heavy shirt.” He skips. “It’s fun.”

I nodded. We were making the game plan today, scheduling out the surgery and the treatment afterward, and I was not having fun. It’s going to be fine. You’re smart and the tike is tough, I reminded myself. I squeezed my baby’s hand.

Haru’s doctor had him giggling within seconds, putting his gloves on inside out and pretending to wear his nametag on his ear. I relaxed just a little. If he was so good with kids he would be careful with my baby.

“I’ll be careful with your baby,” Dr. Na said to me. He sat down on his stool, one hand on Haru’s shorter leg. “Please call me Dr. Jaemin, and remember I’m here to answer your questions just as much as I am to make this little man taller.”

Haru lit up. “Can you really make me taller?”

“Only on one side,” Dr. Jaemin said with a wink. “So, shoot, Momma.”

I hesitated. “I’ll let you finish the exam first.”

“Suits me.” Dr. Jaemin gave me a sharp look, but turned back to Haru with a big grin. “Ok, kiddo. Let’s see how much you’ve got to stretch.”

By the time they went to take X-rays Haru was chattering away to Dr. Jaemin as though they were best friends. I looked at my hands twisted up in my lap. The imaging would take a while. I might as well walk around.

I strolled aimlessly down the hall outside the room. A few nurses were about, but no one paid attention to me. I walked and listened. Snippets of hushed conversation. The smell of antiseptic. Someone laughed somewhere, and a florescent bulb flickered overhead. I was stopped now in front of a white wall. I guess this part of the hall had turned. I pressed my hands over my eyes and then I was leaning against the wall and I didn’t know how long I’d been there.

Haru. I needed to do better. My baby would be back from his X-rays and I needed to pull myself together. I squeezed my palms into my throbbing eyes one last time. Deep breath. I stood up straight and let my hands fall, blinking at the brightness.

A man with white hair and quiet eyes was standing on the other side of the hall, leaning casually against the railing and watching me. “Hi,” he said gently.

“Hi,” I muttered. I could feel my face heating, but getting embarrassed wouldn’t help. I squared my shoulders.

The man spoke before I could excuse myself. “Nana said you might have questions.”

I blinked. “Nana?”

“Na Jaemin—Dr. Jaemin.” The stranger didn’t move, but I got the sense it would be rude to walk away. “I’m his… assistant, of sorts.”

“Ok.”

“I’m Jeno.”

“Ok.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Look, I can smell that you’re pretty anxious. Dr. Jaemin thought you might like to have a private discussion away from your child, and I’m happy to answer any questions you have.”

I nodded. “Ok.” I held up my hand when he shifted. “Sorry. Just— give me a minute to get my thoughts in order.”

“Ok.” He grinned a little.

My eyes snapped to his. “Wait, did you say you smelled—”

“Yes?”

“Are you a hybrid?” I saw something cross his face and instantly realized I’d been rude. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I’m new to this and I just—” I scrubbed my hand across my eyes. “I think maybe you can answer my questions after all. If I haven’t already offended you too much.”

Jeno’s eyes curved into half-moons. “I accept your apology.” He shook his bangs out of his face. “It must have caught you off guard.”

“A little.” I hesitated. I’d already been rude. “Where I grew up we didn’t have hybrids, so I’m trying to learn about them. Would it be ok for me to ask you questions about that?” I held up my hand. “Please say no if it would make you uncomfortable.”

Jeno’s grin brightened. “That explains it. What do you want to know?”

Chapter Text

Jeno was perhaps the kindest person I’d ever met. He told me that hybrids were not, in fact, able to shift beyond a few basic physical features. Although each hybrid was an individual, their ability to sense emotions and pick up on people’s intentions made them naturally empathic. “It’s hard to lie to us,” he said as we walked slowly back to the room. “Sometimes that causes trouble, but mostly it’s a good thing. Honesty is a key part of building relationships. It kind of comes built in with us.”

I nodded. “Does it ever overwhelm you? Being able to sense all that—” and I gestured around to indicate a mess of invisible emotions.

“I mean, it can be a lot. But I don’t know what it’s like not to sense that. For me, I think it would be disorienting, scary really, not to smell how people are doing right away. It would be so much work to have to guess.”

“You’ve got that right,” I muttered. “So you said you’re Dr. Jaemin’s assistant. Are there other hybrids who are working in hospitals or in other care fields, given how advantageous your abilities are for those careers?”

Jeno’s smile fell a little. “I’m not technically employed here. Hybrids don’t have legal rights to earn money or have jobs. Yet. I’m allowed to assist Dr. Jaemin because he refused to take the job unless I could come with him. We’re kind of a two for one deal; they don’t pay me, and I don’t do anything unless Dr. Jaemin asks me to. He’s responsible if I cause any issues.”

I squinted at him. “How is that fair?”

He looked away. “It’s legal.”

I hesitated, then asked anyway. “Is there some reason it’s not legal for you to have jobs? You clearly do so much work. Almost every ad I see for a shelter or a breeder emphasizes how helpful hybrids are.”

Jeno’s jaw tightened, the first time I’d seen anything but pleasantness on his face. “There are some historical reasons to deny us full citizenship. A few cases early on with some hybrids who were mentally disabled set a precedent when the first of us reached legal age.” He turned to face me. “There were some bad things that happened. But it’s been thirty years since the first of us were created. The legal system has ignored us except for that ruling twelve years ago.”

“Huh.” I frowned. “I’m sorry, Jeno. That’s not right.”

He shrugged, smile appearing again. “We’re working on it. They won’t be able to ignore us forever.”

Haru was lost in the waiting room toybox, crashing together action figures and cars in a glorious and noisy imaginary battle. “Ok,” I said to Dr. Jaemin and Jeno. “It seems doable. Three days in the hospital and then six weeks of stretching the leg every day.”

Dr. Jaemin nodded. “The hard part will be keeping him off the leg long enough for it to heal properly. Jeno said you had some ideas?”

I scratched my neck. “Some friends are encouraging me to adopt a hybrid.”

When I got the courage to look up, Dr. Jaemin was beaming. “That’s an excellent idea.” He looped an arm around Jeno. “Is that what you were talking about so seriously when you came back? Ms. Quinn, a hybrid is the best companion you could ever ask for.” Jeno squeaked in protest as Dr. Jaemin pulled him down and pet his hair affectionately.

“So everyone tells me.”

Dr. Jaemin let Jeno squirm out of his hold. “Why the hesitation?”

“It feels exploitative to adopt a hybrid and then put them to work. But if I adopt someone younger, someone more like a companion for Haru, then I’ve got two rambunctious children on my hands instead of one.” I looked at Jeno. “I don’t know. How would you feel if someone took you in with the sole purpose of making you into their gardener or maid? That’s what it seems like I’d be doing.”

They were both watching me. “That’s all?” Dr. Jaemin asked when I finished. He turned to Jeno.

Jeno tilted his head to get his bangs out of his eyes and leaned toward me. “Are you going to return them once Haru is healed?”

It hadn’t occurred to me. “No.”

“Then make sure whoever you adopt is excited to help.” Jeno shrugged. “We’re all different, and there’s a lot of shelters in the city. Find someone who agrees to come live with you and understands that they’ll be taking care of Haru for the first few months.” He shook his bangs again. “That’s not exploitative. You’ll be giving someone a home.”

I studied him.

Dr. Jaemin grinned conspiratorially. “When my parents first told me I could pick out a hybrid for our family, I wanted someone who was good at math so they could do my homework.”

Jeno chuckled. “When he found out I wasn’t much better than he was we fought.”

Dr. Jaemin’s grin got even wider. “We fought a lot.”

I ping-ponged between them, waiting.

Jeno’s eyes crinkled up in mischief. “And now he can’t live without me.”

“That’s only partially true,” Dr. Jaemin protested.

“And now he can only partially live without me.”

Dr. Jaemin’s maniacal grin went soft. “That’s true.” He turned to me. “My selfishness was the best thing that ever happened to me.”

Jeno cleared his throat and ignored Dr. Jaemin’s kissy face. “If you need a list of shelters I have contacts.”

I glanced at Haru, took a deep breath, and said, “Ok.”

Chapter Text

Hobi: omg ur finally doing it

Hobi: was it the 15 Ways Your Hybrid Will Shine link???

Hobi: can i come with u ( ⊙ ꇴ ⊙ )

Hobi: r u getting a dog or a cat or an exotic mix or what

Me: Hobi.

Hobi: fine

Hobi: what does Haru think???

“We’re really getting a hybrid?” Haru was wiggling so hard his milk was splashing out of his cereal bowl. “What’s a hybrid?”

“They’re…” I found myself tilting my head in an echo of Hoseok. “It will be like getting a roommate, but this one will have some special things they can do.”

Haru stilled, only his leg bouncing. “Hybrids are grownups?”

“Not all of them, but we’ll ask if any grown ups want to come live here. Someone who can take care of you after your surgery.”

“Can we get a dad?”

I choked on my coffee. “What?!”

“A dad. Because we don’t have one.”

I reached for a napkin, wiping my face. “I’m sorry, baby. That’s not really how it works. We’ll get a girl, like me, so they can share my room. They can be like an aunt or a big sister to you.”

Haru frowned. “A boy could share your room too. Moms and dads do that all the time.”

“I know, but—”

“And a dad could carry me so you won’t have to. And a dad could play Legos with me. And a dad could take us to the beach. And a dad could chase away bad guys. And a dad could take care of you, too.” Haru was staring at me stubbornly.

I opened my mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. “You’ve really been thinking about dads, huh?” I said weakly.

“Yeah.” Haru scooped up a huge mouthful of cereal and crunched it. “So can we?”

I took a deep breath. “No.”

“But—”

“No.” I got up, taking my unfinished bowl to the sink. Deep breath. “I told you it doesn’t work that way. We’re going to ask for a girl, and we’ll make sure to find a super cool one. Someone who’s just as fun as a dad.” I was proud of how calm my voice was.

“But Mooo-mmy!” Haru whined, and I closed my eyes. He could be so intractable when he decided to be. “I don’t want one of those!”

I turned around, and he had tears in his eyes. Guilt washed over me. I went to him and knelt. “Baby, it… just doesn’t work like that. To get a dad I’d have to find someone to date. Even if we got a boy hybrid, they wouldn’t be a dad, they’d be more like a big brother.”

Haru scrubbed his hand across his eyes. “But you could date them.”

“Haru, sweetie, look at me.” Shame swirling in my stomach, I couldn’t keep the shake out of my voice. “I can’t. I really can’t. I’m sorry.”

Haru poked his cereal. More milk slopped out of his bowl. “Fine.” His chin wobbled. “Get a dumb girl then.” He twisted away from my hand. “I’m not going to be her friend.”

I pulled my hand back. “That’s a pity,” I forced out lightly, standing up and reaching for a dish cloth. “You’re the one who’s picking her out, so it would be really sad if you didn’t like her.”

Haru’s spoon stopped. “I am?”

My back to him, I breathed out relief and hummed an affirmative. “That’s right. You get to pick.” I turned around, and the interested sparkle was lighting in his eyes again. Thank God for Dr. Jaemin’s chattiness. “So, you really should pick someone you like.”

“Whoa.” Haru’s eyes were getting big as he thought.

“Just two rules, baby.” His focus snapped back to me. “They have to be a girl, and they have to be old enough to take care of you.”

Haru frowned a little, but his eyes stayed big and sparkly. “Ok, Mommy. I’m so good at picking!”

“You sure are, sweetheart.” I slid his bowl closer to him and wiped at the spilled milk. “Finish up, it’s almost time for the bus.”

Jin kept glancing at me as we pulled samples from the north side of the greenhouse. Finally I couldn’t take it anymore. “What?” I snapped.

He held up his hands. “Woah. I just couldn’t see the wheat past the black cloud around you. Wanted to make sure I wasn’t losing you in all that fog.”

“How sweet.”

“Hey, you think I’m gonna do all this myself?” Jin capped the sample tube and took his label marker out from behind his ear. “Careful about the ones in the corner there.”

I looked where he pointed, at the part of the greenhouse where the roof beam and walls cut off the sunlight. “Why?”

“They seem a little shady.”

I huffed. Jin laughed, longer than I thought was necessary. “You done?” I said flatly.

He capped his marker and stuck it back behind his ear, face smoothing out. “I’m glad I didn’t waste my boxing joke on you. You would have missed the punch line.”

“Bold words from someone inside punching distance.” I held up my fist and gave it an experimental shake.

Jin’s fists went up instantly. “Oh, you wanna go? You’re tough, huh, you think you can defeat the WWH champion?”

His marker fell from behind his ear. Jin blinked, watched it hit the dirt, then shook his fists back into position, but I was already doubled over in laughter. He waited for my coughing fit to subside. “Oh, come on, it’s not that funny,” he said sadly.

That set me off again. “Ok, tough guy,” I sputtered out.

“You done?” He tried to smooth his face out like he’d done before, but the laugh lines around his eyes stayed crinkled, betraying him.

“Never,” I wheezed. “I will never be done making fun of you, and you deserve it.”

“Whatever.” He stuck out his tongue and picked up his marker.

We got back to work in pleasant silence. I couldn’t find it in me to resent how easily Jin had brightened my mood. I could admit I’d needed that. I guess I was even a little grateful.

To show my gratitude, I tripped him as he walked by. “It’s time for lunch, loser.”

Cucumber, ham, and pickled radish crunched beautifully as we sat on the edge of the raised bed, feet propped up on the sample cart. I closed my eyes and tilted my head up to the light. Good food, the smell of sun-warmed dirt, and the susurration of half an acre of wheat filled up my soul. I stretched and fell back on my arms.

Jin offered me a chocolate chip cookie. “Wanna talk about it?”

I knew what he was doing. Stupid compassionate dude. I took the cookie. “No.”

“Sure.” Jin stuffed his own in his mouth. “How’s Haru?”

I ate my cookie slowly, letting the chocolate melt through me like the sunlight. “We’re getting a hybrid.”

Some crumbs flew out of Jin’s mouth as he coughed. “—that’s cool.”

“Yeah.”

“Where are you going for them?”

I sighed. “I don’t know. I have a list of places to check out, but there’s almost too many, if you know what I mean.”

Jin brushed off his mouth. “Yeah. Can I see?”

I dug in my pocket and shoved the crumpled paper from Jeno at him. “I’ve looked up the ones with stars next to them. They all seem decent.”

Jin smoothed out the page and scanned down it. He made a listening noise.

“But that’s a problem too. I don’t know what this would even look like. I walk up to the front desk of a shelter and say ‘Hi I would like your finest childcarer?’ Like, I need to find someone who fits. And Haru has been a little picky about it already.”

Jin put his finger on the paper to hold his place, glancing at me. “What’s Haru’s deal?”

I looked away. “He wants a boy hybrid. I told him no, of course I did, but he threw a bit of a fit. So I’m worried. It can’t be just anyone, it’s a permanent addition to our household.” I scrubbed my face with my hand and leaned back into the wheat. “I don’t know. I guess it feels like I could visit every shelter in the city and still not know if I’d found who we need.”

Jin nodded. We listened to the wheat rustle and I turned my face up to the sun. “Like, where do I even start?” I said finally.

“Here.” Jin held up the paper with his thumb under an entry. I sat up. “You start here.”

I read the scribbled name. “Beyond the Scene Foundation. Why?”

“Cause I got friends in high places.”

I frowned. “Is this the shelter your friend works for?”

“Yeah. You don’t know where to start? He knows everything. Like, he’s a genius.”

I took my marker out of my lab coat pocket and scratched a line under the name. “Ok.”

“I’ll introduce you.” Jin was smiling at me, eyes warm like chocolate and sunlight. “He’ll take care of it.”

I ducked my head. “Thank you.”

“No, thank you.” Jin was still smiling.

“Why?”

“You have dirt on your cheek.”

“Jin!” I furiously dusted my hands off and scrubbed my face again. “I swear to all that is holy, I will uncook all of your cookies!”

He danced out of reach with his lunch box, squeaking with laughter. “Come and get ‘em!”

Chapter Text

Beyond the Scene Foundation looked nothing like I expected. The front reception area had a desk, but the rest of the room was full of elegant couches, comfortable chairs, and an absurd amount of tastefully chosen light fixtures. I tilted my head, staring at the quirky chandelier hanging over the front desk. “You sure this is the right place?” I said out of the corner of my mouth.

Beside me, Jin faced solemnly ahead. “Yup. Are you going to ring the bell or do I?”

“This place looks like an interior design magazine cover. I’m not touching anything in here.”

“K. Cover your ears.”

“Why?”

“Just do it.”

I slowly put my hands over my ears as Jin walked over and slammed his palm down on the bell. Ding ding dingdingdingdingding.

I lowered my hands. “Jin, what in the nine hells?”

He jerked his chin in the direction of pounding footsteps. Ding ding DINGDINGDINGDING.

I cringed away and looked at the chandelier, hoping it was attached very firmly. “The neighbors are going to file a noise complaint.”

Jin wasn’t listening. He had on his most charming grin, and my palms began to itch as I recognized he was in mischief mode.

The pounding footsteps halted. A door behind the desk swung open, and a man with sock feet and rumpled hair stood on the second step. He stared at Jin. “Oh. It’s you.”

“Did you get my text?”

“…my phone’s dead.”

“Pity. Anyway, we’re going to dinner. Where’s your shoes?”

The man’s eyes fell half-way shut. “You moron. I’m working.”

Jin sauntered up to the counter. “You were napping.”

“Was not.”

“There’s a pillow mark across your cheek.”

“I took a break.” The man’s eyes were open now in a glare. “It was a long week.”

“Did you get the grant submitted? It was due at midnight, right?” When he got no response, Jin slapped the counter. “The perfect way to celebrate is to go out to dinner and I have the perfect place and perfect company! What are you waiting for?”

The man looked at me.

Jin beamed. “I told you I have the perfect company. Yoongi Min, meet Emma Quinn, scientist, mom, and in desperate need of a hybrid. Emma Quinn, meet the one and only Yoongi Min, lawyer, nap-taker, and tireless advocate of said hybrids.” He clapped his hands brightly. “Any questions? No? Let’s eat. I’m starving!”

“You’re always starving,” Yoongi and I grumbled together. My eyes snapped up. Yoongi’s mouth crinkled with a surprised smile.

“Fine.” He dropped the smile and glared at Jin for good measure. “Let me get my shoes,” he said, and vanished up the stairs.

Yoongi turned out to be exactly the person I needed to meet. A quick-witted lawyer with impressive credentials and cases to his name, he had retired from his original real estate practice and redirected his career into hybrid law. “Even describing it like that can be misleading. There isn’t any ‘hybrid law’ as a legislative term. But there should be, and that’s where I come in,” Yoongi explained as the waiter brought our drinks.

I remembered my conversation with Jeno and nodded. “You need to get the government to legally recognize that hybrids exist.”

“Exactly. Once that happens, we’ll be able to tackle the actual rights issues like not being able to own property.”

“Cool. How many lawyers are working on that?”

Yoongi took a sip of his iced Americano. “Just me.”

“Oh.” I ran my nail along the stitched edge of my napkin. “That… puts things in context.”

“It does, doesn’t it?” He glanced at me with a wry smile. He turned to Jin. “Not that I’m complaining, since you’re paying for dinner, but why was it so important that I join you at this mediocre Italian restaurant in the middle of the work week?”

Jin hastily swallowed a mouthful of soda. “I’m paying?”

“Obviously.”

“Right. I’m paying. Um, I wanted to make sure you didn’t molder away at the Foundation. Obviously.”

Yoongi stared at him flatly.

“I mean, ever since you moved in and started doing staff work too you hardly ever leave. You can’t go anywhere without your stupid papers. You never text back. If I didn’t come annoy you occasionally you’d forget I existed.” Jin had started out teasing, but now he was working up to a rant. There was a thud as he kicked Yoongi’s briefcase just hard enough to make his point. “You’re always working. What do I have to do to be worth your time, huh?”

Yoongi’s expression didn’t change. “Pay for my dinner.”

Jin huffed, then laughed. “Right.” Yoongi gave him one of those amused glances that seemed to be equivalent to a blinding grin, and the tension bled out of the moment.

I refolded my napkin. “Actually, I’m probably at fault. Jin offered to introduce me because I’m currently in the process of adopting a hybrid. I had some trouble figuring out where to start looking and Jin said you might be able to help.”

Yoongi fished a piece of ice from his glass and crunched it. “I mean, maybe. Why are you adopting?”

I explained the predicament I found myself in and the conversations I’d had with Hoseok and at the hospital. Yoongi tilted his head in recognition when I mentioned Jeno. When I was done, he leaned forward. “So you’re looking for someone who can take care of your son, and the stipulations are basically that they agree to it and that they get along well with you and your son.”

I nodded.

“Simple enough. At the Foundation alone we probably have about twenty, twenty-five folks who would fit those requirements. Typically we suggest you come to visiting hours. Spend time with everyone in a group setting and see if anyone stands out. That might be the first way to narrow down your choices.”

I considered. “Well, it’s really Haru that I’ve got to persuade. Do you have visiting hours when he’s not in school?”

“We have some evening hours. Let me give you my number, and you can just let me know what evening you’re thinking.” Yoongi patted his pockets for his phone.

“Your phone’s dead,” Jin interjected. “I’ll give it to her.” Jin pointed his pizza slice at me. “See? I told you.”

I blinked at him. “Told me what?”

Jin crammed the slice in his mouth, chewed furiously, and counted off on his fingers. “I told you getting a hybrid was a good idea. I told you to think about it as a mom, not a scientist. And I told you that Mr. Min Yoongi genius jjang jjang man boong boong would take care of everything. You’re contractually obligated to laugh at my jokes now.” He dove back in for a second slice.

I stared him down. I could feel the heat of Yoongi’s stare shooting past my cheek as Jin stuffed his face again. His chewing slowed when he looked up. “Oh no. There’s two of them,” he said softly, and gulped hard.

Chapter Text

Jungkook wasn’t usually late. I sipped my dark roast and fiddled with my phone. No updates.

The coffee shop was cute, at least. I could see why Jungkook would frequent a place like this, dark but somehow incredibly aesthetic and with local art displayed on the textured walls. It still didn’t explain why he wouldn’t just come over for dinner with Hoseok like normal. It was no use trying to pry things out of that boy before he was ready to share, though, so I drank my coffee and waited.

The tall, shy barista behind the counter had offered me a refill twice and I’d declined him once by the time the door swung open and Jungkook breezed in with someone else hot on his heels. He spotted me, beelined, and heaved his duffle bag onto the seat opposite. “Sorry, I’m Jimining today,” he said, grabbing his wallet and making for the counter. I blinked.

“I’m Jimin,” said the someone. Jimin smiled sweetly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

I blinked again. “Hi?”

The stranger smiled a little more awkwardly. “We haven’t had dinner. Or lunch. Sorry I made him late.”

“Eh.” I waved my hand, still confused. “Eat, then talk.”

Jimin headed for the counter too. I looked at Jungkook’s bag, recognized it as his dance bag, and my brain finally started spinning. Of course he’d come straight from the studio. No lunch and no dinner? They must have been crazy busy today. I glanced at Jimin, who was charming the baby-faced barista into adding extra whipped cream to his hot chocolate. Jimin was probably a dance student. He was certainly built like one.

Jungkook dropped into the chair next to his bag with a groan. He picked up his legs with his hands under the table and maneuvered his feet on the chair beside me. “Do you think I could just leave these in the street?” His eyes slid shut.

“Your legs? That would be littering. A criminal offence. Wee-ooo wee-ooo.”

He cracked one eye. “At least I’d never have to move again.”

“They have gyms in jail.”

He squeezed his eyes shut. “Not funny.”

I laughed. “Hard day, huh?”

“You have no idea.”

“Your friend said something about no dinner? Kook, you have to eat if you’re dancing all day.” I dug in my purse. “Here.” I shoved a granola bar at him.

“You’re such a mom,” he complained, pushing the granola bar back to the middle of the table. “It’s not like I skipped meals on purpose.”

“Fine, then. Starve yourself. I can’t stop you.” The granola bar stayed where it was as I studied him. Sometimes I wished people came with a billboard on their forehead that advertised why they invited their friends to a coffee shop in the middle of a work week when their friends had perfectly decent, comfortable kitchens and excellent cooking skills.

He stretched with a groan. “I know what you’re thinking.”

To prove him wrong, I asked, “Is Jimin one of your students?”

Jungkook snorted. “Hardly. He’s one of the soloists for the showcase next quarter.”

“Ahh.” That explained it. Hoseok’s studio was putting on a showcase, and Hoseok had called in a ton of his connections to make it a proper show, not just an advertisement. “So he was Hobi’s student?”

“Nah, he’s kinda in a class all his own. If you would just come to the showcase you wouldn’t have to ask so many questions.”

“Well, excuse me for trying to make conversation.” I poked his feet. “He needs a seat too. Shift these or your bag, your choice.”

Jungkook reached over and strong-armed his bag off the chair across from me. Eyes still shut, he said quietly, “I’ll explain once the food comes. Jimin knows already.”

I nodded. “Hey, if it’s that important it can wait until you have some glucose in your blood stream.” I’d waited this long.

The barista called out his order, but before I could stand up Jimin was already on his way over with the tray. “They said mine would be a few minutes, so you should dig in.” He slid the food in front of Jungkook and himself into the chair in front of me. He handed Jungkook a plastic spork. “Sorry, they’re out of chopsticks.”

Before I could fish out the disposable chopsticks I had in my purse, Jimin spotted the granola bar abandoned on the table in front of Jungkook. “Sweet!” he said, and snatched it up. “Why didn’t you say you had these, bro? We could’ve been snacking all the way here!” The last bit was muffled as he crammed the bar in his mouth.

Jungkook and I traded glances. I quietly put another granola bar on the table. Jimin saw it and his eyes went wide. He choked down his mouthful. “Sorry! I thought this was Kookie’s! Um, do you want…” he held out the remnants of the bar.

I pushed the second granola bar at him. “Please eat.”

Jimin hesitated, and Jungkook jumped in. “Dude, eat. She tried to force feed me earlier.”

I stuck out my tongue at Jungkook. “Did not.”

“You did. I escaped because of my superior strength and intelligence.”

I stole one of his fries and chomped it violently. “Says the dumbo who was about to cut off his legs five minutes ago because they hurted him a wittle bit.”

“You exaggerate,” Jungkook scoffed. I stole another fry. “Hey!” He pulled his food close and crouched over it menacingly.

I glanced at Jimin. He seemed a little bewildered, which I supposed was fair. I tried a smile on him. “Please eat. Seriously, I have a lot more where those came from.”

“She does,” Jungkook said through a mouthful of burger. He took a giant slurp of his ramen. “It’s, like, a mom thing.”

Jimin blinked. “Thank you.” He slowly took another bite. “So…”

“Yeah, I have a kid. He’s six and a total livewire. You might have seen him, honestly, since he practically worships Kook and begs to tag along to the studio.”

Jungkook licked cheese off his finger. “I don’t think they’ve ever been there at the same time. Jimin tends to be in and out at odd hours.”

“Yeah.” Jimin chewed his granola bar.

I swigged my cooling coffee. Jungkook ate like a starving man, and behind him the barista wiped down the counter. Finally I couldn’t take it anymore. I turned to Jimin.

“What’s his deal?” I pointed at Jungkook.

Jimin spluttered. I had been a bit abrupt.

“He said you knew, and he’s stalling at this point.”

“Am not,” Jungkook mumbled through the dregs of his ramen.

I jabbed my finger in his direction more vehemently. “Then start talking.”

“I—” Jungkook swallowed. “I… wanted your…” Jimin elbowed him, and Jungkook turned beseeching eyes on us. “I want dessert.” He grabbed for his wallet.

Jimin got there first. “They haven’t even come out with my food yet. Spill.” He tucked the wallet safely into his own hoodie pocket.

I sighed. This was what I’d wanted to avoid. “Hey. Look at me, Kook.”

He pouted.

“Whatever it is, I promise I’m on your side. Even if it’s really, really stupid. I’ll tell you it’s stupid, but I’m on your side.”

Jimin gave me an approving nod.

I kept my focus earnestly on Jungkook. “Is it about that girl of yours? Because if you need girl advice you know I’m the best at girliness. I can totally—”

“Oh my God!” Jungkook’s face flamed and he kicked my chair leg so hard I actually slid backward. “Shut up! Shut up and never say that again!”

By some miracle, I kept the concerned look on my face. “What? Girl? Girliness? Girl advice?”

Jimin had dissolved into laughter on the other side of the table. Jungkook put his head down and clamped his arms over top of his scarlet ears. He announced loudly, “I would like to unsubscribe from life, please.”

I folded up, cackling. Over the din we were making I heard a hesitant ding from the counter and Jimin’s order was announced. I pulled myself together. Jimin got up to get his food, shoulders still shaking, and I kicked Jungkook’s chair back. “Hey.”

“You’re the worst,” he complained, but he unburied himself.

“I’m the worst,” I agreed cheerfully. “For real though, what do you need help with?”

Chapter Text

“Why did you summon me here?” I studied Jungkook.

He took a deep breath. “I want to do an art show.”

“Seems fun.”

“I want to teach less at the studio.” He gnawed on his spork. “I like dancing. But I’m pretty good at dancing. I want to be good at things I’m not good at. So I want to take classes, I think. I don’t know if I can do a whole degree, but I want to take some art classes.” He nodded. “Yeah. I want to teach part-time and work on art for the other part.” He looked at me.

“And you can’t because…”

Jimin sat down with his tray quietly. “Because Hobi depends on him.”

Jungkook looked down at his mangled spork. “Because Hobi depends on me.”

The weight of that settled across the table. Hoseok, who’d started his own studio from his meager savings and built it into a contemporary dance community with his blood, sweat, and tears. Hoseok, who’d given Jungkook a place on his staff and a paycheck when neither of them knew if that was a good investment. Hoseok, who worked tirelessly to make people happy and smiled brightest when he didn’t feel like it.

Hoseok, who depended on Jungkook.

I twirled my coffee cup. The café made sense. A lot of things made sense. I looked at Jungkook, who was staring at the table, hunched in like he’d done something wrong. “Hey,” I said.

He tilted his face up, but his eyes stayed on the spork.

“It’s ok.”

He shook his head.

“It really is. It’s ok to want something new. You’re super talented and of course you’re interested in things other than dance. That’s great! That’s how you grow.”

Jungkook picked at the spork tines. Finally he said, “You know, I think I never told you how I met Hobi.”

“I don’t think you did.”

“He was my last dance teacher. The best one. He was the one who got it, got… me. I was under him about three months before he quit teaching at that studio to start his own.” One tine ripped off and Jungkook put the spork down. He looked at me. “I cried. I told him he couldn’t leave.”

I nodded.

“So he took me with him.”

I gripped my coffee cup. Ok. Yeah. This was fine. I could fix this.

I looked at Jungkook, all crumpled up again, and my coffee cup lid bit into my palm. How did I fix this?

Jimin cleared his throat. “We were thinking that maybe you would have an idea how to approach Hobi.”

Right. First step, have an honest conversation.

I looked at Jungkook. No, first step take care of Kook. “Hey.” I kicked his chair gently.

“Yeah?” He propped his chin on the table, bracing himself. “Is this the part where you tell me it’s stupid?”

I snorted. “Maybe. It’s a little stupid that you think working on art will make Hobi love you less. But we’re all a little stupid sometimes. I actually think you’re really smart. You don’t want Hobi to be in a tough spot or to feel betrayed because you’re pursuing a new interest. That’s great thinking ahead. Pretty good emotional intelligence, too.”

Jimin ruffled Jungkook’s hair. “Told you.”

Jungkook pawed his hair back down. “Hmmm. So…”

“So here’s two things I know for sure,” I said, thinking carefully. “Don’t sacrifice yourself because you want to avoid conflict. That’s off the table. You know what you want and you deserve to be happy, so it’s worth having hard conversations to get there.”

Jungkook frowned, but he nodded.

“And be honest. Hobi cares enough about you that he’d climb up and unhook the moon if you asked for it. I know you don’t want to take advantage of that, but you need to tell him what you’re thinking. Once you both understand what’s important you’ll be able to work out a solution that’s good for both of you.”

“Ok.” Jungkook reached for the spork again, chin still on the table. He poked the tines into the rubber edging of his watch. “Do you think I should make, like, a powerpoint or something to show him?”

“I mean, do you have any art you’ve been working on?”

Jungkook took his chin off the table. “Yeah.” He hesitated. “It’s not very good though.”

“Whatever,” Jimin interjected.

“It’s not!”

“You’ve got to stop saying that, dude. Show her. A bunch more people are going to see it if you do a show.”

Jungkook reluctantly pulled out his phone and started scrolling through his gallery. I quickly cut in, “I’d love to see it, but that’s maybe not the point. I do think it could be a great way to start a conversation with Hobi though. Show him what you’ve been working on, and then mention you really like it, and then bring up that you’d like to start taking classes. See what he says, how he reacts, and go from there.”

“Oh.” Jungkook put his phone down. “That’s… you’re right, a powerpoint is overkill.”

I grinned. “Oh, no, not at all. I expect a powerpoint from you. Not for the thing with Hobi, but for… let’s say educational purposes.”

“You mean blackmail.”

“No I don’t! Powerpoints are educational. I’ll make one too. And Jimin can make one too. And we can make Hobi sit through them all.”

Jimin grinned wickedly. “We can hold a powerpoint night to celebrate your bravery after you finally sign up for classes.”

“Yeah, educational celebration.”

Jungkook stabbed the spork into his ramen container. I clutched my coffee cup. “Don’t make this a joke,” he snapped. “Maybe it’s funny to you, but it’s kind of a big deal to me.”

“Hey, hey,” Jimin said, immediately putting a hand on his arm. “We’re not making fun of you.”

“Are you sure?”

I quickly jumped in. “Yeah, Kook. Sorry. I know this is serious, and I promise we’re taking you seriously.”

“Ok. Well, fine then. Just…” Jungkook poked the ramen container morosely. “I really don’t want to cause problems and Hobi is my roommate and my boss and one of my best friends so it’s not like it’s just a simple sit down and talk about it. This could be really bad.”

“And it could be really good,” Jimin argued gently. He patted Jungkook’s hand. “You’re catastrophizing. That’s my job, remember?”

Jungkook slumped back down in his seat. “Yeah. You’re right. Sorry.” He tucked the spork into the stack of empty takeout containers on his tray and folded his hands. “I’ll figure it out.”

“Hey, you’re bleeding!” Jimin was staring wide-eyed at my right hand.

I looked down at my crushed coffee cup, the plastic lid torn and jagged. “Oh, sorry. Let me just get a napkin.”

“Don’t touch that,” Jimin protested as I tried to blot the mess of coffee and blood off my palm. “You need to wash it properly. Jungkook, get my kit.” Jimin leaned forward over the table and took my hand.

“I can just—”

“Hold still!” Jimin snatched the small bag Jungkook had unearthed and unzipped it. He took out an antiseptic wipe. “This might sting.”

I tried to pull my hand back. “Hang on, I can just wash it in the bathroom.”

Jimin stopped. “No, you need to disinfect it.” The table between us shrank to nothing as he locked eyes with me, cradling my hand. “I’m a nurse, I don’t mind taking care of it.”

White noise invaded my head and I couldn’t look away. What was happening? His eyes were pretty and he was very close and— Oh God. I was touching him. He was pretty, yeah, but I was touching him. I scrambled back. “No—no, I… I’ll just—” I snatched my hand away, tucking it up to my chest. “I have a—” I grabbed my purse and stood up. “Bandaids—” I waved the purse at them and fled to the bathroom.

I lurked in the bathroom until the eyes reflected back in the mirror were blank and my skin was its normal shade. When I emerged, hand plastered in Pokemon bandaids, the two boys had cleaned up the tables and were chatting quietly. I slid into my seat, holding up my hand so they could see it was taken care of.

Jungkook gave me a thumbs up. “Hey, we were thinking that the best time to approach Hobi might be on a Sunday morning. What do you think?”

“Yeah, that’s the only day he really takes off consistently, right?” I folded my hands in my lap.

We batted different strategies back and forth. I kept my hands tucked in, and the boys carefully avoided mentioning my freak-out until we were standing up, ready to go.

Jimin smiled at me, that awkward one again. “I wanted to apologize for… earlier. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. It’s kind of my job to fix things like that, and I sometimes forget to turn off medical mode. So I’m sorry I overstepped.”

 I shook my head. “No, it’s ok. Thanks for trying to take care of me. I’m sorry I made it hard, and I hope you won’t hold it against me.” I gave him my biggest, most unawkward smile.

His smile turned genuine. “Thanks for being here for Kookie. It’s good to know he’s got someone close to home who he can rely on.”

I jerked my chin. “Sure. But I rely on him plenty too.”

We headed out the door, Jimin to one bus stop and Jungkook and I to another. On the way home Jungkook turned to me. “Sorry about that. I should have warned Jimin you don’t like being touched.”

“What?”

Jungkook adjusted the bag over his shoulder. “You don’t like people touching you,” he said, like it was obvious.

“I don’t— what?”

“You don’t do hugs, even handshakes really, you move away from people if they bump into you, you tense up when someone gets too close.” Jungkook bit his lip. “I just figured you don’t like physical contact.”

“Oh.” When he put it like that it made sense. “I guess.” I clapped Jungkook on the shoulder. “Don’t starve.”

“Don’t choke on wheat,” he retorted, and pulled the door open to his apartment.

I stood outside my own for a moment. Did I really not like people touching me? I loved squishing Haru, though, and didn’t mind hugs from Jessi or Mrs. Bang either. The thing with Jimin earlier was just a weird… thing.

I shook my head. Whatever my deal was, it wasn’t important when there was a little one on the other side of this door who needed me. I punched in my apartment code and closed the door firmly behind me.

Chapter Text

We made it to Beyond the Scene Foundation right as visiting hours opened. Yoongi was wearing shoes today, and his dark hair was neatly slicked back. Haru breathed out a “woah.” He pointed at Yoongi’s tie. “Mr. Kim has a book tie, but a piano is so much cooler!”

I pushed Haru’s hand down. “Don’t point, baby, it isn’t polite.” I turned apologetically to Yoongi.

He was smiling down at my boy, genuine affection in his eyes. “I think this tie is pretty neat too. One of the guests gave me this one.”

“That’s so cool!” Haru beamed. “Are there other kinds?”

Yoongi leaned closer, like he was about to share a state secret. “There’s a duck tie.”

Haru squealed.

“But that guest is actually not here today, so you’ll have to see the ties another time. Do you want to meet some of the other guests?” Yoongi looked at me to see if I was ready.

I nodded, and Haru wiggled. “Mommy said I get to pick! I’m really good at picking!”

I put my hand on Haru’s shoulder. “Remember, baby. You get to pick, but they also have to pick us.”

“I know, Mommy. Two pickings.” He vibrated with excitement as Yoongi chuckled and opened the door to the residential area.

The sloshing nerves in my belly solidified into gravy trickling down into my bones. I kept a hand on Haru’s shoulder less to keep him from wiggling and more to anchor myself. Some of the research I’d done said I’d just know, when I met the right hybrid; that it was almost like an instant bond. Lots of other articles debunked that myth, but people did agree that there was something special about bonding with a hybrid. I didn’t like that idea. It felt too much like soulmate talk, and I’d had enough of that to last a lifetime.

I really, really needed this to go well.

Haru clearly had no such worries and bounded ahead. Yoongi took us to an area that looked like a big community space, with a giant screen on one wall, plenty of couches and colorful beanbag chairs, and tables with craft supplies spread out. Folks of all age ranges were dotted throughout the room. Yoongi explained, “Usually we have a few activities set out so the younger ones stay engaged and for the visiting families with kids. Since you’re looking for someone older, you might try the library through there,” and he pointed at a doorway to a smaller room.

Haru had already beelined for the table with the glitter. I gave Yoongi a quick nod and raced after my little troublemaker. Why did they even have glitter?

By the time I got there, Haru was deep in conversation with a little boy who looked maybe a year or two older than him. “Hey, kiddo, let’s leave the glitter alone. Who’s your friend?” I asked.

Haru sheepishly put the lid back on the glitter shaker. “Ooops! I forgot to ask. What’s your name?”

The boy looked up at me with big clear brown eyes. “I’m Taehyun. Are you his mom?”

“Yup.”

“Can he play with me? And my friends too?” Taehyun pointed at four other children clustered around another table.

I paused. “In a minute. We actually need to meet some of the older folks first.”

“Ok.” Taehyun gave Haru a sticker. “Come play when you’re done.”

I took Haru’s hand and a deep breath. “Let’s go talk to some people in the library, buddy, and then we’ll come out and you can do all the glitter-less crafts you want.”

“So you are looking for someone permanent.”

“Yeah.”

The girl curled up in the overstuffed chair exchanged glances with some of the others in the room. “It’s not like any of us wouldn’t like to take you up on that offer, myself included.”

There was a strange hesitancy in the faces around me. “But?” I said.

She used her pinkies to separate out her bangs. “But it— it doesn’t feel like I’m the right one for you, somehow.”

I looked around the circle. The other women, spread around my chair, nodded one by one.

I wiped my hands on my jeans. “And that’s it? You can tell whether we’re… compatible right away?” I tried to smile so it didn’t seem like I was questioning her judgement. It felt like I was getting shut down, and panic bubbled below the surface.

She smiled back. “Sometimes. It’s a tricky thing. I’m certainly happy to help out, since I know you’re working up against a deadline. I wouldn’t mind taking care of your son.”

“But you wouldn’t want to stay?”

She met my eyes apologetically. “No.”

I worried the hem of my blouse with a fingernail. A roomful of women, and they were all not right. I felt Haru’s hand touch my arm and glanced at him. He had been unusually quiet. “What do you think, buddy?”

Haru scuffed his shoe. “I want to go play.”

“You don’t want to meet anyone else?”

“Uh-uh. You’re all nice!” he said to the women around us. “I’d pick you if you wanted me to. But you don’t and I don’t really want to either.”

I winced at his frankness. The girl in the chair laughed, though, and uncurled herself. “I like you, kid. You can come back whenever you want.”

Haru’s eyes saucered as her tail appeared. Big, fluffy, and ringed, it swung out behind her as she stood up and came over to ruffle his hair. “You have a tail!?” he squeaked.

“Yeah, pretty much all of us have tails. Most of the others don’t have them out, because they can get in the way, but…” she made a face. “I’m clumsy enough with my tail. Without it I’d be a disaster.”

“That’s so COOL!” Haru shouted. “Mommy, can I have a tail?”

I looked at my son helplessly as the room dissolved in laughter. “Um, no, baby. Sorry. That’s not— oh, oh no.” I slapped my palms over my burning cheeks as Haru started to whine.

The girl with the raccoon tail choked down her mirth long enough to explain, “I have a tail because I’m a hybrid. Humans don’t have tails, but they have jobs.”

Haru frowned. “That’s not fair.”

Our eyes met above Haru’s head. “No, it’s not,” I said softly.

“No, it’s not,” she echoed. She tilted her head, considering me, then held out her hand. “My name’s Momo. Let me know if you don’t find the perfect fit before the kid’s surgery. I’ll be the best substitute I can for as long as you need me.”

I shook her hand, relief and gratitude loosening the knot of desperation in my chest. “Thank you.”

She turned to Haru. “Maybe the together boys can help you make a pretend tail.”

“The together boys?”

Momo pointed to the sticker on Haru’s hand. “Yeah, Soobin and Yeonjun and Beomgyu and Taehyun and Hueningkai. The five of them are always together. They’ll be happy to have someone new to hang out with.”

“Ok, I’ll ask.” Haru tugged my hand. “Let’s go, Mommy!”

I looked around the room full of hybrids. Although none of them were coming home with us, maybe they could help me get ready for the person we would find. I patted Haru’s hand and then let him go. “You play, baby. I’m going to talk a little bit more.”

An hour later, I slumped on one of the couches close to Haru and his friends to look over my scribbled notes. Momo, Sana, and Mina had been patient with my questions, but the answers were simultaneously simple and impossible. How did I keep a hybrid happy and content? The same way I’d keep a human happy and content. Mostly. But also they often were touchier than humans, so they needed regular physical contact, and there was the smell thing, so I’d need to be happy myself, since negative emotions made them anxious. A tall order.

Worse, the girls couldn’t answer my question about finding the right hybrid to begin with. “They’ll pick you,” Sana said.

“The one that needs you,” Mina said.

Momo looked at me a long minute before she said, “The one you need.”

I sighed. “I need anyone who can help my son,” I said, and wrote down her advice more aggressively than necessary.

She shook her head. “No. You might want certain things, but you need someone. There’s someone you won’t be able to leave behind once you meet them.” Her eyes softened. “I hope you meet them soon.”

I looked up from my scrawled note someone you need when Haru’s cheerful chatter suddenly went silent. He was looking at me from behind the table guiltily. I folded my notes and shoved them in my back pocket as I stood. “What did you do?”

“Nothing!” Haru and Taehyun moved something under the table.

I marched over. “Show me.”

Haru’s pants had a hole in them, right where a tail would go.

I shook my head. “Baby, did you need to chop up a perfectly good pair of school pants?”

“But it’s for the tail!” Taehyun protested, and he held up the craft paper monstrosity they’d been working on. “It won’t stay put unless we put, like, these tabs and stuff on the inside.”

Soobin shoved the thick end of the tail in as Taehyun held it. Yeonjun folded the fins they had made so they would fit into the hole in the pants, then straightened them out once inside. Taehyun let go. The tail curved up, held in place by the scheming minds of a pack of middle graders and a ridiculous amount of tape. All six boys looked up at me, big-eyed.

“I’m… impressed.” I couldn’t be cross when they were looking at me like that. “That’s a pretty cool bit of engineering.”

Haru hopped. “Now we all have tails!”

The together boys brought over the finishing construction paper touches to Haru’s costume. A pair of “lizard” ears to go with the “T-rex” tail, two green mitts to give him “lizard” claws, and for some reason a tie with a glittery duck on it. When he was all decked out, Haru danced around me. “I love it more than a rocket, Mommy! Take a picture!”

I watched his tail swing around and cried out just as the end hit the open glitter shaker squarely in the center. Glitter exploded like falling stars. I closed my eyes as it rained down over me, helpless in the maelstrom of chaos. Oh, Haru. My sweet, stubborn summer child. I would be finding traces of this visit weeks from now. At the moment, I could only look at my glitter-covered hands and think, what a funny little setback.

Chapter Text

The statue in the principal’s office had the most unnerving set of painted eyes. I shifted in my seat. The eyes followed me. Finally I caved and moved the huge fern on the desk over a foot, blocking its gaze. What was taking Namjoon so long? I flicked the corner of the manila folder that held Haru’s medical schedule. Namjoon had promised my boy wouldn’t fall behind in school while recovering.

As unsettling as Namjoon’s art choices might have been, I trusted him. Principal Kim ran a tight ship. This private school was experimental in many ways, and I was no education expert, but Namjoon was. He’d left the public school system after making several passionate cases for reform and had formed a collective of the brightest minds in education for the board of his school. I’d run across him on Instagram, of all places, where he documented his museum trips and plant adventures. When I’d looked into schools for Haru and found out @r_kives was Principal Kim of Moonchild Academy, it had been strange enough I’d researched his background and educational program in depth. Eventually Haru had made the decision for me. He’d taken an immediate shine to the big, dimple-cheeked man with the funny koala on his suit when we’d visited schools. And that was that.

Now this man was responsible for my child’s education. He was not responsible with his time, though. I’d been under that statue’s scrutiny for five minutes longer than anyone should have to be.

The door opened. I didn’t need to turn my head to know it was Namjoon, because he was muttering as he came in. Also, this was his office. I stood up politely.

“No, no, sit down,” he said when he saw me. “Sorry about being late. The boys bathroom is a disaster zone and no one wants to tell me why.” He rubbed a hand over his face and a piece of green silly string fell off the shoulder of his jacket. “Whatever. What can I do for you, Emma?”

I waited for him to round his desk and collapse into his chair before I slid the manila folder over. “I’ve got the schedule for Haru’s surgery.”

He flipped the folder open. “Ok, ok. Let’s see.” He glanced to me. “I was thinking about it last week as well. There’s a few logistical challenges.” He propped his elbow on the folder and started ticking them off on his fingers. “One: getting the study material to Haru. Two: making sure he understands it. Since he’s in first grade it’s not complicated stuff, but it will take some little time to go over. Three: getting the homework sheets and finished tests back to Jessi so she can grade them.” He rubbed his chin. “And four: making sure Haru has at least some fun. A lot of the classroom activities here keep the kids excited about learning through activities, and there’s no way to replicate that at home, but just worksheets and tests is going to bore him to tears.”

I nodded.

Namjoon ran his hands through his swept-back hair. He removed a pink foam “R”, dropping it to the floor. “You’re working from home, right?”

“Yeah, for the surgery itself I’m obviously off, but the six weeks of recovery time I’ll be at home. How much time do you think I’ll need to work with Haru directly for his assignments?”

“Mmmm. At least an hour, maybe more.” Namjoon finally remembered the folder. “Oh, you’ve got dates and everything.” He scanned over the paper. He stopped.

I waited.

He tilted his head, considering. He tapped the top, where Haru’s name and info was printed. A blue “M” fell from his lapel. “You guys live on Daehak-ro?”

“Yeah, that should be on Haru’s enrollment info too.”

“Huh.” He flicked the paper. “I forgot how close you are to me. I’m just one bus stop up the route.”

I leaned forward. “So…”

He grinned. “Well, that settles one and three. I’ll drop off the homework on my way home and then pick up the finished stuff to take to Jessi.”

“Really? It’s a little out of your way though.”

“Barely. Besides, I usually walk after supper. I’ll just walk before instead. But sometimes I do work late. I’d be going home around 7 or 8, and that might be a problem for you.”

I shook my head. “Not a problem. You’ll just have to tell me when so I can get down to the street.”

“I mean, I can come up too.”

“You say that now. There’s no elevator and we’re on the sixth floor.”

Namjoon frowned. “How are you going to get Haru up and down six flights of stairs?”

“Luckily he is only six, and I have really nice neighbors who are dancers and very strong.”

“I see. Ok. Any chance these neighbors have a lot of free time and like tutoring?”

I scuffed my shoe on the carpet. “Actually, we’re probably getting a hybrid. That may be something she’ll be able to help with.”

Namjoon tugged at his cuff with his long fingers, absentmindedly removing a purple pom-pom. “Hmmm. I… Can hybrids read?” He winced. “I mean, I actually have no idea if hybrids are given an education. That’s so strange.”

I blinked. “What—”

“They have to be able to read, write, do basic math. Otherwise they wouldn’t be such good home companions. But who teaches them? Not the public school system. And if it was a private school I would have heard something about it from someone.” Namjoon’s eyes narrowed, his fingers steepled. Although he had a pipe cleaner twisted into his collar, he suddenly looked like the man who had spearheaded several educational revolutions. I tried not to be intimidated.

“Anyway.” Principal Kim blinked and was back to Namjoon. “I’m sure whoever you get will be great, it’s just a new thought.” He grinned. “Now I’ll be fixated on it for the next week."

I grinned back. “Well, if you ever want to start a school for hybrids, I know a guy.”

“Oh yeah?” Namjoon’s eyes widened like he was considering it.

“If nothing else you can bond over your tiny demon children, since last time I saw him he was also covered in craft supplies. Be thankful your kids don’t have access to glitter.”

Namjoon shuddered. “I love them, but we banned glitter for a reason.” He smoothed away the fallen “M.” “So that fixes one through three of the logistical challenges. I’ve got some ideas for little things we can do to keep Haru feeling like he’s part of the classroom, and Jessi’s a whiz with that kind of stuff. She’s probably going to overload you with activities. You’re obviously only going to have time for some, but we’ll give you a lot of options, and hopefully engaging Haru’s mind will help him be less restless for you.”

“That’s—” I had to look away and blink quickly. “That’s so very kind. I hope you know that I don’t expect any of this.”

Namjoon waited until I was able to make eye contact again. “I mean it when I say this is why I’m here.”

“I… sure, but—”

“Really.” He tapped the desk for emphasis. When he saw my hesitation, he sighed. His eyes found the fern between us and he spoke softly. “When Ari and I first found out we couldn’t have children, it sent me into… a spiral. I looked at my work and thought, ‘What am I doing? I’m never going to have a kid, so what do I care about all these kids of other people who are luckier than me?’ And it’s not on my resume anywhere, but I got a little lost for a while.”

He leaned back in his chair. “And then I went to work one day and suddenly could see the kids again. For so long, I was just the paperwork person, the figurehead. I worked with other figureheads more than I did with my students. That wasn’t right.”

He tapped Haru’s schedule. “I guess what I’m saying is it took me a while to get here. To live a block away from one of my students, to be able to bring him his homework and make things special for him during a hard time, to ease the burden for a parent I once would have envied. I went from having no children to a schoolful.”

Namjoon leaned toward me. “I feel very lucky to have Haru in my care. You’ve trusted him to me, and I want to take the best care of him. This is the least I can do for you and for him.”

I laughed a little around the lump in my throat. “See? Kind.”

“Maybe. Or maybe it’s my job.”

“You’re good at it,” I said. “Even if you have a pipe cleaner on your collar.”

“Uuuh?” His hands flew to his neck. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

I raised my eyebrows. “When I had to sit across from that thing for whole minutes?” I pointed at the statue.

“What’s wrong with Mr. Pleiades?”

“You named it after a constellation?!”

“Why not?”

“It ranks top ten in my awkward eye contact encounters, and I’ve been on the metro after a cosplay convention.”

Namjoon laughed, loud and abrupt. “Ok, fine. I’ll turn him the other way.” He grinned at me. “Any other interior decorating you want to do while you’re here?”

“Nah. The jungle-but-make-it-artsy vibe suits you.”

“That’s good because I’m keeping it. Anything else you want to ask about the plan for Haru?”

I gathered up my wallet. “Not unless you think there’s something we’ve missed.”

“Nope. I’ll hang onto the schedule, since it shows when Haru’s going to be adjusted, and we can back off on the workload for those days. Just let me know if anything changes.”

“Will do.” I stood up. “Hey.” I waited for him to look at me. “Thank you,” I said, and headed for the door before he could start another lecture.

As I let myself out of Principal Kim’s office, I saw he had failed to find the pipe cleaner. He’d only moved it. A bright stripe of cyan dripped down now to his pocket, crossed right above his heart.

Chapter Text

The bus pulled up to the curb. I dodged the thicket of arms and bodies and emerged onto the street, the wind welcome and spiced with a hint of autumn. Beyond the Scene Foundation waited a few meters up the block. I adjusted my work satchel and headed that direction. Although I could guess why Hoseok had offered to take Haru to the Foundation after school and then meet me for dinner, it was time to find out from the man himself.

Tugging open the heavy wooden door to the Foundation, I honed in on Hoseok’s laugh coming from the community room and followed my ears. Haru was nowhere in sight. Yoongi was there, though, and apparently had just cracked a joke. Hoseok was still recovering. He hiccuped with laughter as he picked himself up from a couch. Yoongi’s face remained impassive.

“Hey!” I waited for Hoseok to wipe his eyes. “What’s up?”

“Hey! You made it!”

“Sure did. What’s so funny?”

“Yoongi won’t wear hairbands when washing up because they make him look like a hibachi chef.” Hoseok clutched the couch as he laughed again.

I looked at Yoongi. I could see it.

He looked at me. “Right? I’d rather get my hair wet than see that in the mirror.”

“Respect. Any clue where my kid has gone?”

Yoongi pointed through the doors to a hallway. “The together boys wanted to show him around, so he’s probably in the boy’s dorm. I’ll get him.”

After Yoongi had gone, I turned to Hoseok. “So, you hit it off, huh?”

“That guy is so funny! He just stands there and says ridiculous stuff with a straight face, and it’s like he doesn’t even know it’s ridiculous until I start laughing.”

“Oh, he knows it’s ridiculous,” I said, remembering how Yoongi had teased Jin. “Why were you talking about hairbands?”

“Oh, you know.” Hoseok waved his hand airily. “Fashion. Say, do you want to stop for pizza on the way home? There’s this really cool place on the route that I think Haru would like.”

I smiled internally. Hoseok was not as slick as he thought he was. “I mean, you could just come over for dinner. That way Jungkook wouldn’t have to make something.”

Hoseok’s eyes flicked around the room. “JK’s at the studio late tonight anyway.” He beamed at me, his fingers tangling up in the bracelet on his wrist. “And that way you won’t have to cook!”

I didn’t need to make him sweat. “Yeah, sure. Sounds fun.” Although it was funny that both dancers wanted my advice, it was sweet too. I’d be happy to hear Hoseok’s side of the story.

The street door opened and a handful of women filtered into the room from the entrance. I waved to Momo. She handed her grocery bags to someone I didn’t recognize and came over, giving me a big hug.

“You smell like fresh air,” I said, noting her tail was absent. “I’m glad you were able to get out today, it’s been so windy and lovely.”

“I know, fall is so fun! Did you find what you were looking for?”

I blinked. It had been a week since the great glitter disaster. “Um, no. We actually haven’t had a chance to visit—”

“Hi Haru’s mom!” The together boys came clattering out of the dorm hallway, all worn jeans and flying elbows. When they were a few feet away, Soobin called out, “Now!” and they formed a perfectly straight line. They bowed to me. “We’re sorry,” they chorused.

I blinked again. “Um—”

Soobin stepped forward, eyes big and hands clasped. “We’re sorry for ruining Haru’s pants and getting glitter on you. We didn’t mean to make a mess, and we won’t do it again.” He looked at me beseechingly.

“Oh, it’s fine,” I stammered.

Beomgyu jumped forward. “So he can still play with us?”

“I mean, yeah. That’s why Hobi brought him over after school today. Didn’t you see him?”

The boys exchanged looks. “Ok, that’s great! Thank you, Haru’s mom!” Yeonjun said, and before I knew what was happening they’d vanished back down the hall.

I looked at Hoseok. “There were five boys here a second ago, right?”

He looked at the hall. “Right.”

I turned to Momo. “Ok… so, we haven’t really visited—” I heard Haru’s chatter coming down the hallway and put my hand apologetically on Momo’s arm. “Sorry, this is a mess. The short answer is no, I haven’t found anyone yet.”

“Oh.” Momo was going to say something else, but Haru came into the room and I patted her arm.

“Sorry, give me just a minute.” I went to my baby, ready to squish him up close to my heart.

Haru had gone silent as he came in. When I hugged him, his face was turned from me. I pulled back and smoothed his hair away from his face. “Hey buddy! What’s up?”

“School was fine,” he said, still looking away.

I cupped his cheek. “Hey, baby, come on. Look at me. Is something wrong?”

“No!” He twisted away from me. “I’m fine.” He flung himself toward Hoseok and slipped his school backback over his shoulders. “Can we go? I’m starving!”

I sat back on my heels. Ok, what? Hoseok shrugged at me. So it wasn’t something from school. I sighed.

“Yeah, Hobi said we should get pizza. Would you like that?”

Haru gave two thumbs up and a big smile, cartoonish in his enthusiasm. “Yum!”

I stood. “Ok, we’ll go soon.” I finally looked back to Momo. “Ok, so we haven’t actually visited anywhere else yet. It’s on the list for the weekend though.”

Momo nodded. Her tail had reappeared, and she was holding it and running her thumb back and forth across a stripe of fur. “I just wanted to let you know I’ve had an offer for a permanent home.”

My heart thudded into the pit of my stomach. “Oh, that’s great! I’m so happy for you!” I gave her a quick hug. “They’re going to love you so much.”

Momo kept her hand on my arm as I drew away. “Sana will help you, if you need it. I already asked her and she’s happy to do it. But—” she bit her lip. “It’s different, for us, when it’s the right person. I want to encourage you to keep looking.”

“I will.” I patted her hand. “And really, I’m so glad you found a home. You deserve it.”

She smiled at me, brighter than I’d seen before. “I’m really happy,” she confessed. “I was afraid to hope, especially after so long, and since I’m not a dog or cat mix. But it’s finally happened and it…” she looked away, eyes shiny. “It feels like home went from a nice word to an explosion inside my chest. I’m so lucky. I’m so, so happy.”

My own eyes were a little shiny. I blinked and pulled her in again. “I can’t think of a better person to be lucky. You’ll have to make sure you leave your new address, so I can send you a holiday card.”

She laughed and wiped her eyes. “And now I can send you one too.”

“I can’t wait!”

As Haru and Hoseok and I waited for the bus outside, I couldn’t get my heart to climb back to its proper spot. The women had been right. I needed to find someone that needed me, someone who I could give home to like a gift that would unwrap into transcendent warmth. I had been so worried about how a hybrid would fit into my life and my baby’s life that I’d forgotten we were going to be someone’s forever home. I pressed my hand into my chest. I’d been missing so much.

I held Haru’s hand and watched the bus coming down the street. I needed to be smarter. For everyone’s sake, I couldn’t afford to get this wrong.

Chapter Text

The bell jingled as Hoseok let us into the tiny pizza shop. I breathed in fresh bread and oregano, instantly hungrier than I’d ever been. “Wow, Hobi,” I sighed. “This smells amazing!”

“I thought you might like it. It’s New York style but they have some local stuff if you ask for it.” Hoseok pointed at the chalkboard menu. “My favorite is the potato pizza, like usual.”

I scanned over the options. Familiar toppings and reasonable prices. Hoseok might have just introduced me to the best restaurant in Masrayeong. I tapped Haru’s shoulder. “What do you want, buddy?”

“Just a lot of cheese,” Haru said, looking anywhere but at me.

Something was still off with him, but I didn’t want to push it until we were home. I went to order.

When we were all tucked into the back corner booth, sodas fizzing on the lacquered table and legs sticking to the red vinyl, Hoseok cleared his throat. “So.”

“So?” I slurped at my Milkis.

The blue and purple chandelier glass from the bubble lights cast colored streaks across his face. They shifted as he drummed his fingers on the table. “So… Jungkook talked to me.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. He said he already talked to you, and…” Hoseok’s eyes were in shadow. “Honestly, I think it’s a good idea.”

“Really?” That was easy.

“Yeah, because he needs to branch out. He’s going to be happier if he can work on some of his other passions along with his dance. He’s so good—so passionate—with his dancing, but he says he doesn’t want to give that up completely anyway, and I believe him. So it’s a good thing.”

I put my soda down. “But?”

Hoseok leaned his forehead into his palm, elbow thudding into the table. “Honestly, it’s been a lot to keep staff at Hope on the Street. This is not JK’s fault. It’s more of… well, of a symptom than a cause, but I’m kind of running out of steam.” He sighed. “I’m finally doing it. I have my own studio, I’m breaking even financially, but it’s because I’m working constantly and so are all my teachers.” He looked at me and grinned tiredly. “It’s not enough. If JK cutting back on hours is the breaking point, then we weren’t stable to begin with.”

I nodded.

“I just don’t know what to do about it.” Hoseok ran his fingers through his bangs.

I nodded. We listened to the cars passing by on the street outside and the clatter in the kitchen behind us. Haru drew on the paper placemat, a rocket and a stick figure wearing a tie picked out in pen over the red checks of the printed design.

“Do most studios your size have just one owner?” I asked. I really didn’t know anything about the dance industry from the business side.

“Some do, some have two or three. But the owner usually isn’t an instructor, or if they do teach it’s only specific classes. They do the paper pushing and manage the schedules.” Hoseok flicked his clear Sprite bottle and watched the bubbles rise. “I don’t want to do that, though.”

I nodded again. I felt like a bobblehead. Haru finished the stick figure and started adding another one, smaller, with one leg longer than the other. “So you want to do the dance bit, just not the business bit.”

“Yeah, well, sort of. I don’t mind the business side. I like knowing everything about my studio, down to the amount of paper towels we have to order per month. But then all those tasks add up and I can’t do everything.”

“Hmm. Hey, Hobi?”

“Yeah?”

“Why did you start your own studio?”

He was silent for a long minute. Haru’s pen scratched over the placemat and bubbles inside my soda can tinged against the sides. “Because I wanted to build a place for passionate dancers to catch on fire.” Hoseok shook his head, frustrated with the words. “I wanted to make this— no, to carve out this space for the beating heart of dance… to make a space where it wasn’t about who knew who or how much money the classes were but about how much you wanted to be there, how much you wanted to work and discipline and hone yourself to create your own rhythm.” He looked at me. “I feel like that makes no sense now. Does it answer your question?”

“I think so. It sounds like you’re more interested in the dancing and the students than the paperwork, even though both are necessary.”

Hoseok grinned. “See? That’s why I wanted to talk to you. You cut though all the bullshit. You’re right, I like dancing and teaching more than I like bank accounts. Who doesn’t?”

“Business majors.”

Hoseok laughed. “Ok, ok. But we’re talking about Hope on the Street here. There isn’t a business major within three blocks of the building.”

“Maybe there should be.”

Hoseok cocked his head. “I guess?”

The pizzas arrived, handed to us by a short, slight teenager with steamed up spectacles and a face of generic displeasure. “Enjoy,” he said flatly, and disappeared back into the kitchen. A radio switched on somewhere back there and a love ballad in Mandarin swelled up over the kitchen noise.

I pulled out a slice of cheese and scooped the trailing mozzarella strands onto Haru’s plate. “I guess what I’m saying is maybe there’s someone who could do the paper pushing for you. Not everything, of course, but the scheduling and stuff like that? A good secretary or, oh!” I dropped the plate in front of Haru. “A manager!”

“A manager?”

“Yeah! That’s what you need. You’re the owner, you teach some classes, and then you hire some smart, organized person to handle the business stuff so you have time for the other stuff. That’s literally what a manager is for!”

Hoseok was listening carefully, splashes of color swirling through his eyes. “Well… I’ll have to go over the budget again. I don’t know if I have enough to hire another staff member, but it does sound like a good idea.”

Relaxing, he grabbed a piece of his own pizza and leaned over to cheers it with Haru’s slice. He gave me a sharp grin. “You wouldn’t happen to know any managers?”

I pretended to give it thought. “Right, it’s been six months since we moved, and everyone knows I spend my weekends at ragers for corporate shills.” I snapped my fingers. “Oh, there was that one guy I saw doing taxes on the bus. I should have asked for his number.” I shrugged. “Live and learn.”

Hoseok hastily swallowed his bite and a laugh. “Was he cute?” Purple and blue sparkles danced in his eyes.

“How would I know?” I scoffed, stuffing my own mouth. “He was not very good at covering up his Resident Registration Number, though, so I can find out his credit score if that helps.”

“Emma.” Hoseok wasn’t exactly teasing, although his tone was light. “There’s nothing wrong with partying, even a date if you feel like it. I have a couple of friends I could set you up with. Just say the word.”

I swallowed hard. “Uh-uh, no, nope, not at all. First a hybrid and now matchmaking? Hobi, I’m doing fine.”

He leaned forward, eyes all purple from the lights. “I don’t want you to be lonely.”

“I’m doing fine.” I smiled at him, as sparkling as I could, and wiped pizza sauce from my chin. “Besides, how can I be lonely when I have neighbors who keep bringing me their problems? Next thing you’re going to be telling me you’ve never loved dancing and JK doesn’t really have a girlfriend.”

Hoseok laughed. “He doesn’t though.”

“Gasp!” I said. “Still?”

“He has this plan to ask her to his art show and then ask her out.” Hoseok shook his head. “It’s going to be months.”

I snorted. “Ah, young love.”

“Well, I think it’s kind of sweet.” Hoseok was still studying me.

“Sure, sure. Anyway, the longer he waits, the longer we get to tease him about it.”

“Hmmm. Hey, Emma?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for listening.”

I looked away from his sincerity. “It’s kind of the least I can do.”

“Ok. If you feel that way.” Hoseok slid the last piece of potato pizza onto his plate. “You know we’re both happy to return the favor as soon as you are ready.”

I held in the wince. I should have expected that, really. Both of my neighbors were perceptive and kind. Of course they noticed things I’d rather they didn’t. I nodded, bobbleheaded. “Thanks.”

I hated the way Hoseok’s eyes still watched me from the multicolored shadows. “Hey, baby,” I quickly said to Haru. “That’s a cute picture! Who’s that next to you?”

Haru covered it with his hand. “Um, it’s… That’s you and me.” He pointed at the smaller stick figure and the one with longer hair he’d just added.

“And who’s the other one?” Haru’s hand was over part of the picture, but I’d already seen his first stick figure.

“It’s Tae— Taehyun!” he squeaked.

“Oh, that’s cool. I see he’s got a duck tie just like you did.” I patted Haru’s hand, hoping to calm him down. “Next time you go see your friends I’ll make sure to send some snacks with you. They thought I didn’t like them very much. What do you think they’d like?”

Haru tore his attention away from his picture. “Well, Taehyun likes candy and Hyuka likes ice cream, and also they like fruits, and also they like soda.”

“So everything you like?”

“Pretty much. But— oh, I forgot. Yeonjun doesn’t like soda really.”

“Ok, if they all like fruits and ice cream, maybe we should bring them milkshakes or smoothies.”

Haru’s eyes lit up for the first time. “Oh, yeah! We can get all different kinds, with candy on top, and then we can all taste them!”

I chuckled. “Sharing sounds fun. Next time, then.”

“Can we go back soon?”

I jerked my chin at Hoseok. “He’s the one you need to ask at this point.”

Haru pestered Hoseok for the next visit while I polished off the cheese pizza and cleaned up. As we left the restaurant, bellies full and fingers greasy, Haru held his placemat drawing tightly in one fist. I smiled. He’d found some good friends. I’d have to invite the together boys over to visit after his surgery. It would be nice if he had something to look forward to.

Chapter Text

“I don’t understand why I need this ancient lunk of dust-catching junk,” I grumbled.

“Boss’s orders,” Jin panted. “Now don’t bang it on the doorframe.”

“…I’ll drop it on your toes.”

We struggled out to the curb with the first heavy box of folders. Supposedly, they held the data I was to compile while working from home. Moving back would be simple. I’d hand over a hard drive with the data digitized and organized. I kicked the box when we set it down. “Hope you catch fire,” I told it sincerely.

“That’s a year of hard work from your predecessors,” Jin scolded. “Have some respect.”

“I can’t respect things that turn my spinal column into a chiropractor’s rent check.”

Jin huffed out a laugh, eyes shifting as he decided whether to continue his scolding. “It’s not like computers are much better for your posture.”

“Eh. They’re better for my attitude.” I sat on the box, squinting against the sweat in my eyes and the bright autumn sunlight. Indian summer had arrived just in time to make manual labor miserable. “When I said I would need help moving to a home office, I meant your car, not you telling Jiwon that now’s the perfect time to scan all this stuff in.”

“Hey, it bought you a couple of weeks of pay.”

I turned to look at Jin. “What do you mean? It’s all paid leave.”

He shifted. “Never mind.” He was studying the sky.

“Jin?”

“Hey, if you don’t get off that box we’ll never get it in the car. Move it, momma.”

I stayed where I was. “Jin, did you get me paid leave somehow?”

He wouldn’t look at me, and he wouldn’t answer me, but the silence was enough. I stood up. “Jin.”

“It’s stupid the policy doesn’t cover dependents,” he mumbled, scuffing the gravel with his tennis shoe. “They needed to change it anyway.”

His ears were red. I looked at him and decided to repay his kindness with a much smaller kindness. “Whatever. Let’s move this misbegotten piece of nightmare fuel and hope my apartment building has lost a few floors by the time we get to the stairwell.”

Jin groaned. “How many floors again?”

“Six.” It sounded like a prison sentence.

Hoseok took one look at the boxes stacked in Jin’s tiny coupe and backed away. “Nope, nuh-uh, no way. This is not my kind of job.” He stuck his head into the stairwell and hollered, “JK!”

Jungkook emerged from the apartment complex with Haru on his shoulders. Hoseok snatched up Haru’s backback. “Change in plans. I drop off the kid and you take these boxes. Come on, buddy! Let’s go see your friends!”

Jungkook held onto Haru’s legs as he tried to wiggle down. “Hang on a second. Why do I get the heavy lifting?”

“Because you’ve got the most muscle!” Hoseok gave his roommate a winning smile and a smack on the butt. “Gotta use it for something or people are going to think it’s all for show!”

“It is all for show,” Jungkook grumbled, but he helped Haru slide down.

Haru hopped over to Hoseok. “Can we stop for banana milk?”

“Well—”

“Pleeeeeeease? Pleeeeeease? Pleeeeeeeease?”

Jungkook giggled. “Sure you don’t want to get a workout in, boss?”

Hoseok’s shoulders slumped just a little. “Let’s get banana milk.”

By the time all of the boxes were in my tiny spare room, the three of us had agreed the apartment building staircase was the tenth circle of hell. Jungkook groaned. “If you ever need to fend off invaders, all you have to do is let one of these loose on them. Boom!” He flopped his hands together, not even bothering to make the clap sound. “Flat creep.”

Jin, somehow, had the energy to stay standing. When I turned my head from where I was sprawled over the last box, he was poking through my desk. “Jin!” I huffed. “Have you ever heard of privacy?”

“Not sure. What grade do they teach that in?”

“Kindergarten, you nincompoop.”

Jin flipped through one of my notebooks. “You know, sometimes you act like it’s a crime if I know you.”

“Don’t try to turn this back on me. It’s incredibly rude to touch someone’s stuff without permission! Get your paws off.”

Jungkook rolled his head to look at me. “Want me to drop a box on him?” He flopped his hands together again. “Flat creep.”

“Yah!” Jin backed away from the desk. “I’ll catch it.”

Jungkook actually managed to haul himself up. “I don’t think you will. I really don’t think you will.”

Before they could start circling each other like deranged children, Hoseok’s laughter sounded from the stairwell. Jin and Jungkook glanced at each other. “Flat creep?” said Jungkook.

“Flat creep,” confirmed Jin. They each took an end of a box and lifted it, all signs of exhaustion vanishing.

After repackaging the contents of the box (it missed Hoseok by inches, Jin’s fault according to Jungkook and Jungkook’s fault according to Jin), I ordered the three boys to busy themselves elsewhere while I organized the workspace. I could hear them in the apartment arguing gleefully. I pulled the door shut.

There was so much to do. I slumped in my chair, poking the notebook that Jin had flipped through. The boxes crowded me into the desk. Two weeks to Haru’s surgery, no hybrid, no time to look for one. All this stuff to fit in all this tiny space. All the energy in my boy crammed into one apartment, six floors up.

I shook my hair back and straightened my shoulders. Getting overwhelmed would help no one. I reached for the first box. I needed to stack these up, oldest to most recent, so I could get them out of the way and still work through them.

But was it really worth it to look for a hybrid? I had a backup plan, after all. Sana was going to help. Even if she couldn’t stay, it would solve the problem.

I shoved the next box into place. Why did I need a hybrid? Another mouth to feed, another person I’d be responsible for. Maybe they’d help. Maybe they’d just be one more thing to take care of.

I sat back on my heels, breathing heavily. No, that wasn’t fair. The people I’d met at the Foundation were brilliant and compassionate. They were each so easy to love.

I started stacking up the boxes, freeing up floor space one block at a time. It wasn’t easy to find a hybrid. I needed to visit some other shelters, but when? Maybe it was just bad timing. Maybe I should just cut my losses, accept Sana’s help, and forget about getting a hybrid to stay long-term.

The floor was clear. I slid my office chair in and out, considering.

I’d promised Haru we were getting a hybrid.

I plonked the scanner on my desk. That settled it. I’d promised.

I grinned at the stacks of boxes, all teeth. Eventually I was going to break my baby’s heart. That’s how the world worked. But not today. Not if I could help it.

The apartment had gone suspiciously quiet by the time I’d finished, with time to pick up Haru so he could have dinner with his favorite people. I patted a box as I flicked off the lights and opened the door. The tiny room was full. If Jin found more ancient records somewhere he’d just have to keep them.

When I looked out, Hoseok caught my eyes across the living room. All three boys were sprawled across the couch, facing the anime that was playing quietly, but Jungkook and Jin had fallen asleep on each other. Hoseok pet Jungkook’s hair fondly. The living room, kitchen, and what I could see of the hallway and Haru’s bedroom were straightened and vacuumed. A clean vanilla scented candle flickered on the coffee table.

Hoseok made a shooing gesture with his hand. I nodded, padding to the front door and slipping on my shoes. I mouthed “Thank you,” and Hoseok simply smiled.

It looked so peaceful I almost didn’t want to leave.

Chapter Text

As I glanced out the bus window at the approaching Foundation, my reflection had grass in her hair. I sighed. I’d only sprawled in the grass because I was waiting for smoothies at the food truck at the park, but apparently letting my guard down for even a minute had consequences.

I picked at the grass strand and the tray of smoothies carefully balanced on my arm tilted. I righted it. A strawberry spilled off the rim of one of the cups as the bus braked, and I barely caught it. I sighed deeper. The grass was going to have to stay.

I popped the strawberry into my mouth as I scrambled off the bus, purse banging into the bus door and smoothies tilting again until my hand was finally free to steady them. I kind of wanted to throw the whole mess into the gutter and just get Haru and go home. The smoothies were for his friends, though, and he was going to be so excited. I cradled them instead as I shoved the heavy front door open.

The Foundation was humming, visiting hours full on a Saturday night, and Haru was nowhere to be found. I did see Sana, and waved her over. “Hey! These are for the together boys, if we can find them.”

She clapped. “Oh, that’s great! They’ll love the treat. Let me put them in the freezer and then we can look for them.”

Once the smoothies were taken care of, we split up. “Take the left hallway,” Sana said. “I think Haru was back there earlier. I’ll go right.”

I met Yoongi coming down the left hallway. “Haru?” I asked.

“The kids have a little nook in the back hallway they call their ‘hideout.’ He was in there last I checked on him. Down this one, left, and then it’s the closet door right next to the exit in the back.”

I nodded. “Thanks.”

The back hallway was quieter, my shoes almost silent on the carpet. A door opened and then closed somewhere. I listened absentmindedly to the distant chatter as I licked the rest of the strawberry juice off my thumb. I’d never been back here. This part of the building must be mostly dorm space.

“So when you dig clams up sometimes they throw up??” That was Haru’s voice.

A voice I didn’t recognize answered him, deep and rich. “If you walk next to their holes they will squirt out water, and then when you try to dig them up also sometimes they squirt water. But it’s not really throw up. It’s water that they are eating all the tiny plants out of.”

“That’s so cool! Do they like plants?”

The other person laughed. “I think so. They only eat that.”

I was in front of the closet door now, listening. The “Top Seceret” sign on it was crooked and it was ajar. Through the opening I saw my baby’s eager face, turned towards a man I’d never seen at the Foundation before.

The stranger was breathtakingly handsome.

I felt for the grass in my hair before remembering that I didn’t care what I looked like. I hadn’t bothered to freshen up after lifting boxes all day and the whole bus had seen me like this. I straightened my shoulders. “Haru?”

He snapped toward the door, a look of consternation on his face. “Mommy?”

“Hi baby! Where’s your friends? I brought smoothies.”

“Oh.” He held on to a shell in his hand like it was a lifeline. “Ok.”

I waited. He sat there. Finally I said, “Do you want to help me hand them out, baby? I don’t know who likes which kind.”

“Oh, yeah. I should do that.” Haru stood up slowly, handing the shell back to the stranger. “Sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t mean to get you into trouble.”

I frowned. “Baby? Why would anyone be in trouble?”

Haru walked past me dragging his feet. “Nevermind.” He scrubbed at his eyes with his hand.

I grabbed him. “Baby.” I pulled him around to face me, and he stared at the floor, fat tears rolling down his cheeks. “Haru, sweetheart. What’s wrong?”

He sniffed and shook his head.

“Haru!” I wiped his cheek with my thumb. “Baby, what happened?”

He flung his arms around me. “You said it had to be a girl,” he sobbed. “I’m sorry, Mommy. I really tried to pick. But—” he hiccupped. “I want Taehyung,” he wailed, and buried his face in my middle.

I scooped him up. “Oh, baby. It’s ok, sweetheart. Hey, it’s ok.” He cried into my shoulder and I looked around for anyone who could explain what was going on.

The stranger had followed Haru into the hallway. He shuffled closer to me and rested his hand on Haru’s head, gently patting. He looked at me for the first time.

“Please,” he said.

I was caught, trapped in an eternity between heartbeats. He was mesmerizing so close, and even my sobbing child couldn’t shake my attention from his perfect, impassive face. His carefully impassive face and his quietly blank eyes. Please. I knew that look.

I’d seen it in the mirror.

Haru drank his chocolate milkshake quietly, holding onto the man’s hand. The together boys had found their favorites and scattered, leaving an extra strawberry smoothie. I pushed it over. “So you’re Taehyung.”

“Yes.”

“And Haru’s been hanging out with you mostly?”

“Yes.”

I stared at their entwined hands. I couldn’t tell who was holding on more tightly. “Haru, baby. Can you tell Mommy a little more about why you want to pick Taehyung?”

This was crazy. I couldn’t actually be considering this.

Please.

Haru jutted out his chin. “I like him.”

“Okaaay…”

“I like him the most. He’s the best one and he’s good at playing Legos and he went to the beach before and…” Haru was tearing up again. “I don’t want anyone else. Just him.”

“Ok,” I nodded. “He’s the best one to you. I got it.” I turned to Taehyung. “Do you know what you’re getting into?”

He shook his head ever so slightly, long black curls falling into his eyes. “I know Haru is going to have surgery and will need help moving around for a while.”

“That’s mainly what we’re going to need help with, but there’s also plenty of times I’m not able to get to all the chores and cooking. Some of that might be expected of you as well as explaining Haru’s school work to him and keeping him entertained.”

Taehyung wet his lips slowly. “I’m not good at cooking.”

“Oh. Well, that’s my favorite out of all the household work anyway.” I tried to smile. I could tell by the looks on their faces that it didn’t work. I stood up.

“You finish your drink. I need a minute.” I touched Haru’s shoulder. “It’s not a no, baby, but I need to think about it.”

They nodded and when I looked back they were watching me with their hands still clasped together. Taehyung’s hand almost swallowed Haru’s, but my baby was holding on for all he was worth. My face felt like plastic as I turned and left.

“Hobi, I don’t think you’re hearing me. Where is a guy going to sleep? I can’t just magic another room into my apartment.”

“Your office.”

“Then where do I work?” I was pacing.

“Move the stuff to your bedroom. You can get one of those loft beds, the ones that have workspace underneath, and move your bed into the office room.”

I huffed. “I mean, I guess. But really do you think it’s a good idea?”

“I met the guy once or twice and Haru’s really taken a shine to him. You could do worse.”

“You met him?!”

“Yeah, why?”

“Then surely you see the problem.”

“I… honestly, I really don’t. He seems really friendly and gentle, he’s good with kids, he wants to help. Sounds about right for you.”

“Hobi.”

“What?” I heard a sudden increase in background noise as he put me on speaker and quickly explained everything to the others.

Jungkook’s voice came over the line. “Duck tie guy, right? I liked him too, Emma. He does so well with Haru. It’s like they’re made for each other.”

“So both of you met him and somehow neither of you are realizing it’s going to be a problem if he’s living in my space?” I chopped my hand through the air. “How are you not getting this?”

“What’s the problem, Emma?” Hoseok asked.

“He’s a guy!”

“So are we.”

I choked down the humiliation and blurted it out. “He’s a really handsome guy!”

“So are we!” Jin chirped.

“That’s— you are not…” I breathed in and then out, great whistling breaths that did nothing to make me feel better but kept me from throwing the phone across the street. “It is a problem. Whether you want to make fun of me for it or not, it is a problem,” I finally managed miserably.

The line was silent for a beat. Finally Hoseok said, “I think you should give Taehyung a chance anyway. And I also think we should talk. When you get home.”

I wiped at my eyes. “Yeah.”

“Hey, Emma?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re doing great. Whatever you decide, you’re a great mom and Haru’s lucky to have you.”

I sniffled. “Ok.”

“Text us when you get home. We’ll do dinner tomorrow.”

“Ok.”

“Be safe.” “Give Haru a high-five.” “Sleep well.” They signed off.

I couldn’t do anything about my red eyes, but I picked every piece of that stupid grass out of my hair before I went back in.

I didn’t mean to overhear them. I really didn’t. Yoongi’s voice wasn’t as quiet as he thought it was.

“You can’t. Tae. After what happened last time it’s—”

“You don’t get to make that decision, Yoongi.” Taehyung.

“I do! I very much do get a say when you’re not thinking straight. You said you’d stay at the Foundation, this was your home now.” Yoongi’s whisper was more like a hiss. “I even moved here to stay with you. Now you want to leave? Are you asking—” his voice shook. “Are you asking to get your heart broken?” A fist slammed down on something. “Again?”

“I have to.”

Silence. “Why?”

“Haru. I have to, Yoongi. It’s not like before.” Taehyung’s voice was somehow steady.

“You don’t know that, Tae.” A huff. “You don’t! It’s not just Haru. What about Emma, huh? You only met her today, and she’s the one who signs the papers.”

“Emma.” Taehyung’s voice repeating my name so thoughtfully snapped me out of my trance. I cleared my throat and knocked on the meeting room door.

A pause. Sudden commotion, and then Yoongi was shoving the door open and storming out. He locked eyes with me.

“If you hurt him, if you take his shit or don’t take care of his shit or any shit like that, you answer to me.”

I met his heated gaze as honestly as I could. “Ok.”

“And you don’t fucking hurt him.”

I nodded, silent.

Yoongi searched my face for agonizing seconds before he turned abruptly and left. I finally took in a breath and moved into the now open doorway.

Taehyung was standing in front of the coffee table, fingers picking at his long sleeves. He looked up. “Emma?”

“Yes?”

“That’s a pretty name.” He smiled, square and warm. I forgot to breathe all over again.

Chapter Text

The dishes were washed, Haru was tucked into bed, his door tightly closed. There were no more excuses. I stared at the tablecloth as the three others around the table stared at me.

“So,” Hoseok said. “Taehyung, huh?”

I sighed. “Yeah, Taehyung. I’m going to be honest here. I don’t think it will work, even for Haru’s sake.”

Jin leaned forward. “Because?”

“It’s been a long time since I’ve been so caught off guard by someone.” I spread my hands on the table, tapping. “It’s… Taehyung isn’t like anyone I’ve met. The idea of him living here— it makes me panic every time.”

“Being attracted to someone isn’t a crime, Emma,” Hoseok interjected.

“That’s not it. It’s more like, I saw him what, once? And all of a sudden he has more real estate in the ol’ clonker than anyone has a right to.” I knocked on my head for emphasis. “I haven’t had that happen for forever...” I stilled.

Cold fingers of realization crawled through my gut. I breathed in. “Not since Haru’s father.”

“I wondered.” I looked up at Jungkook. He went on, “You’ve been so tight-lipped about your ex, but we all wondered.”

Hoseok shifted. “We didn’t need to pry. Now, though… honestly, it’s hard for us to give you good advice if we don’t know why you’re so worried.” He nibbled at his fingernail. “Maybe let’s start at the beginning?”

I ran my fingernail along the paisley pattern on the tablecloth. Why hadn’t I noticed this was hideous before?

“Emma?” Jin prompted.

 My friends. They’d proven themselves trustworthy, over and over, and maybe they were right. Maybe, somehow, that had been the beginning. All the way back then.

“Yeah. I—” I squeezed my eyes shut. “I’m going to tell you a story.”

“Once upon a time in the backwoods of nowhere there lived a girl. She was told she was smart, and she got the grades to prove it. She was told she was kind, and she had the friends to prove that, too. She was told she was pretty, but there was no one to prove that. Not in the town where she lived. Not anyone who mattered.”

“Then one day a stranger came. Somebody’s cousin, come to work at the family mechanic shop. He was a little older than the girl, more experienced, much more cool. He said she was pretty.”

“She believed him.”

My fingers were going faster and faster around the paisley. I folded my hands together to make them stop.

“She… started to believe everything he said. He said she was special, and she believed him. He said he’d find a way for them to go to college together, and she believed him. He said he loved her, and she believed him.”

My voice came out quiet. “I’m sure you can guess the ending. The girl didn’t. She just— she heard love and assumed it was forever.”

I twisted my hands. “The girl… didn’t think about consequences, because there aren’t any of those when you really love each other. She did anything he wanted.” I corrected myself quickly. “I wanted it too. The sex was really good and it was annoying to remember protection, so I didn’t.”

“I got pregnant, of course.”

I couldn’t look up. “I was so excited. I was carrying his child, and we were in love, and I couldn’t imagine anything better. I thought he would be so happy, when I told him.”

“He told me to get rid of it.”

I was running my hands over the tablecloth again, unable to stay still. “We fought and I told him we were going to have kids eventually anyway and he called me delusional. He said I’d seduced him. And he didn’t want the baby.”

I pulled my arms in. “He was scared. I understood that later. His family was strict and he was in so much trouble.” I spread my hands out, appealing. “He didn’t mean to be cruel. He was so afraid and I was so naïve…” I trailed off.

I picked up again in the heavy silence. “I did consider an abortion. Right up until he told me to choose, him or the baby.”

“I told him it was the baby.” I winced.

“I never saw him again.”

I hugged myself. Someone sniffled, not me. I had to finish. “So I… so the girl had the baby on a calm June evening and didn’t go back to high school in the fall. Instead she worked part time and watched her baby grow. She took care of her father as he faded away from cancer, and before he died she had her high school equivalency and her admissions letter to a local college. She worked and studied and it took her a little longer than other people but she graduated with perfect scores.”

“Since she had graduated there was nothing keeping her in the backwoods of nowhere. She needed a job that could cover her son’s surgery. She found one in the heart of a big city, full of strangers and advertisements for things she’d never heard of. And she found new friends. Good ones.”

I was afraid to look up. I did anyway. “The end,” I said.

Jungkook was the one with red eyes. Hoseok’s brows were drawn, and Jin was watching me with what looked an awful lot like pity. I faced him. “I don’t regret it,” I insisted. “Not a second of it. It was worth it for my boy.”

Jin nodded. “Of course.”

Hoseok drummed his fingers on that horrible paisley tablecloth. “Taehyung reminds you of this guy?”

“Not really. They’re not similar at all.” I snorted. “The similarity is my reaction to both of them. All Taehyung had to do was ask, and all of a sudden my careful and logical plan is useless because he said please. That’s not a sensible reaction.”

Jin held up his hand. “But Taehyung is a good fit in a lot of ways. He likes Haru, Haru likes him, he agreed to help with Haru’s surgery, and he wants to live here. It’s not insensible, either.” He finished ticking the list off on his fingers and stared at me, waiting.

“It’s not as sensible as you’re making it sound.”

Jungkook flicked the table. “I think you’re scared.”

“Well, duh.”

He wasn’t expecting me to admit it. “Um— I mean, you… you shouldn’t be scared.” He nodded fiercely.

Hoseok spoke up. “What, exactly, are you afraid of?”

I looked at him disbelievingly. “Did you not hear anything I said?”

He plowed forward. “Articulate it for us. What is the thing making you panic about Taehyung?”

“I—” Without my permission my mind flashed to the image of Taehyung’s big hands wrapped around mine instead of my son’s. That square smile would be heartstopping first thing in the morning. I blinked, yanking my hands back and put them under the table, safe from any imaginary hand-holding. “It’s just…”

They were all watching me. I waited for the wave of shame to recede. “I don’t think I can be trusted,” I finally confessed. “I… well, like I just said. I historically have not been good at keeping my hands to myself when it’s important, and I—”

“But why do you have to keep your hands to yourself?” Hoseok interrupted.

“Hobi, you know I’d literally sign papers that say I own him, right? Like, those won’t be the words on the page, but that’s essentially how it works.”

“If he’s fine with it?”

I huffed. “So you want me to walk over to him and go ‘hey might y’know want to kiss you sometime but how do you feel about me adopting you? because of my kid???’ Hobi, that’s—”

Jungkook cut me off. “You don’t have to say anything.”

“Huh?”

“He knows. If you were anything like you were on the phone, he knows.” Jungkook tapped his nose. “They smell, remember?”

My heart hit my shoes with an audible thump. Or maybe that was my palm hitting my face. “Oh, good glory. I can never go back there again. Never.”

Jin laughed, high and squeaky. “I can’t wait to meet this guy, Emma, he’s going to be the best thing that ever happened to you.”

I glowered at Jin. “I haven’t decided anything yet.”

He winked at me. “Roses are red, violets are blue, your cheeks are on fire and your heart is t—”

I elbowed him in the ribs. “Don’t act like this is a joke.”

The spark of mischief in Jin’s eyes blinked out. He poked my shoulder, completely serious. “It’s not. It’s about time someone called you on your bullshit.”

I twisted away. “What—”

Hoseok jumped in. “Yeah. Here’s the thing, Emma. You glossed over it when you were telling us, but it’s pretty clear you still believe your ex. At least a little.”

“No, I—"

“You seduced him, right?” Jungkook asked me pointblank.

I froze. I slowly unfroze, nodded once.

“That’s what we’re talking about,” Hoseok said quietly. “You didn’t seduce anyone, Emma. You said it yourself. You did everything he wanted. You were naïve, maybe, but that’s not a crime.”

Jin leaned over to look directly into my eyes. “It wasn’t your fault he left.”

The room got bigger, then shrank. I struggled to breathe.

“Of course it was my fault,” I whispered. I held up my hand when they made noises. “It… I’m responsible for what I did. I did what I wanted, too, and I’m not sorry I have Haru but…” I put my head down. “He doesn’t have a dad, and that part is my fault.”

“How?” Jungkook asked flatly.

“Because if I had been smarter I would have waited!” I shot up. “If I had kept these—” I shook my offending hands “—to myself we could have had Haru once we were married, when Tyler would have accepted it and everything would have been fine! Instead I fooled around when there were nothing but promises between us.” I slumped back down. “And everyone knows those are the easiest things in the world to break.”

I really couldn’t breathe now. Crumpled, I choked on my own sobs, trying to keep them down so Haru wouldn’t hear his disgusting mother wailing like a godforsaken mess. It took me several minutes to realize I wasn’t in my own chair anymore. Jungkook had somehow pulled me into his lap, and Hoseok’s arms were wrapped around me. Jin pet my head gently. I hiccupped.

“I’m going to drip snot on all of you,” I threatened waveringly. Hoseok’s arms tightened. I tilted my head back against Jungkook’ shoulder and let the tears fall silently. Jin’s hand kept moving over my hair. I felt like I’d been wrung out and hung on the side of a cliff to dry.

“Marriage is a promise too,” Jin whispered. “He walked away from all the promises he made, and you still think you’re the bad guy?”

I listened to the whir of the refrigerator and Jungkook’s gentle breathing. “He’s not a bad person,” I said quietly.

“Maybe not,” Hoseok murmured. “But he left you, and he left Haru. He’s not a good person.”

The words fell like tears into my mind. Something inside me broke a little, and something else took its first breath in a long, long time. “Ok,” I said.

Jungkook stirred. “Hold yourself responsible for your own actions all you want, Emma, but don’t believe things somebody said when they were trying to run from their problems.” He threaded his fingers through mine. “Haru does not need a dad who runs away.”

“How much does Haru know?” Jin asked.

I winced. “Not much. He…” I covered my face with my free hand. “He really wants a dad. We talked about it a while ago and he hasn’t given up on it.”

“Hmm. It sounds like you should tell him the story, then.”

“No!”

Jungkook shifted. “But at least some of it?”

“He’s going to know, or figure it out, eventually. I… I just want him to be older.”

Jin put his hand on my shoulder. “Why?”

“How—” My hand came down from my face with an unhappy laugh and I looked at all of them. “How am I going to tell my beautiful child that his dad didn’t want him?”

I breathed in. “I want him. There is no universe that exists where I wouldn’t carve out my heart and lungs for Haru to exist, even if I never saw him again. But the day is coming when that will not be enough.”

I kept going, voice breaking. “He is going to want his dad to love him too. And his dad— his dad never did. Never will.”

Hoseok puffed his cheeks and blew out a deep breath. “Whew.” Jin’s thumb was rubbing soothing circles on my shoulder. Jungkook squeezed my hand gently.

“We’ll make sure he knows how to throw a baseball and skateboard and barbeque perfectly. He’ll be ok.”

I smiled as the tears started again. “He just wants to play Legos, I think. He said Taehyung is good at Legos.”

Jungkook exchanged a glance with Hoseok. Jin leaned in, somehow part of their wordless conversation even though he was technically the stranger here. “Sounds to me like you already have your answer then.”

I swiped at the tears that kept coming. “I… I think I had my answer the moment Taehyung asked. I’m just a coward.”

“Not a coward. Careful, and afraid, and not always honest with yourself. But not a coward.”

I snorted. “Gee, thanks, Jin. Way to make a girl feel great.”

He blew me a kiss. “Any time. By the way, you really do need that eye surgery. Where’d you get this tablecloth, a time-traveling dumpster?”

I stuck out my tongue at him as the others giggled. The tears finally stopped. We ate ice cream and listened to Jin’s bad jokes and the boys offered to burn my tablecloth if I didn’t have the heart to do it myself.

As the boys were leaving, Jungkook lingered. He helped me scrub dripped ice cream off Jin’s chair. “That’s why you don’t like people touching you, right?” he asked softly so the others wouldn’t hear.

“No.” I wrung out the cloth. “I don’t think so, anyway. I thought about it and I think it’s more that I don’t like touching other people.”

Jungkook tilted his head.

“I don’t like to touch guys, I think. Maybe that’s because of… what Tyler said.”

Jungkook nodded. “Is it ok for us to give you hugs? Like before? It seemed like it was ok, but I don’t want to cross a line.”

I blinked up at him. He was so careful not to make me uncomfortable. “Yeah, it’s ok. Thank you for calming me down.”

He held out his arms. I walked into them and understood how long it had been since I’d trusted anyone when he wrapped me up tight and I didn’t need to flinch away.

Chapter Text

“I never wanted to see these things again,” Jungkook growled. He punched the offending box. “Seriously, we agreed they’re demonic last time.”

“At least we don’t have to go up stairs,” I wheezed.

“At least no one is trying to drop them on you,” Hoseok scowled. He hadn’t forgotten his near escape.

Jin breezed by, holding a postcard and a lamp from my desk. “What, like that’s heavy? You need someone to show you how it’s done, Kookie?”

“Like you can even lift these things without popping your knees, old man.”

“Old man? Old man?!”

Before they could start bickering (again), I slid my box into place in my room and put my hands on my hips. “Yoongi and Taehyung are going to be here in half an hour. My bed needs to be moved and these boxes need to be out of the way so we can set up the loft bed. You can fight all you want as long as you move stuff while you do it,” and I glared at Jin, who had picked up two pillows to transport.

“Ooooh, she’s giving us the mom look,” Jin said, but he put the pillows down and went for a box.

Haru busted through the door, waving a piece of paper. “Can I give him this? Mommy?”

I looked at it. It was his most prized art he’d made at school. A big t-rex done in orange and green marker with pipecleaner lasers coming out of its eyes and teeth made from fork tines. I patted his head as I went back for another box. “Sure, honey.”

“Do you think he likes dinosaurs?”

I heaved the box up. “I’m sure he does, baby.”

“Do you think he likes lasers?” Haru jumped around. “Pew pew pew!” He shot imaginary lasers at each of the boxes.

“Yup, probably.”

“Do you think he likes—”

“Hey, buddy.” Jin knelt down in front of my boy. “You want to help Uncle Jinnie snoop through all the notebooks on Mommy’s desk?”

Haru stopped jumping. “Can I?”

“Yes!” “No!” Jin and I said at the same time. Haru looked at me. “Ok, fine,” I said. “But keep them in order.”

“Yay!” They both bounded to the office and I sighed. My hands shook as I tugged my box into place. Reorganizing was doing nothing to settle my nerves.

“Welcome.” I held the door open and smiled big. Taehyung’s eyes sparkled as he looked around, and I ducked my head. “It’s not much, but I hope you’ll be comfortable here.”

Haru jumped around him. “Come see my room! I’ve got Legos and dinosaurs and markers and—”

Yoongi dropped the long box with the new bed frame on Hoseok and Jungkook’s feet. “Oops, sorry.” The glint in his eye said he wasn’t sorry at all. Hoseok clapped a hand over Jungkook’s mouth before an argument could erupt. Jin watched, amusement twitching his lips.

I cracked my hands together. “Ok, Haru, go ahead and show Taehyung your room. When you’re done you can show him his room. The rest of you, either help put stuff together or stay out of the way.”

“Bossy,” muttered Jungkook, but he picked up the other end of Yoongi’s box.

Taehyung reached out and brushed my elbow as Haru tugged at him. “Thank you.” He let my baby drag him away.

I rubbed over my elbow. Was it supposed to tingle like that?

For all Yoongi’s reluctance, he was a wiz with hand tools. The bed frame was assembled almost before I’d finished making Taehyung’s bed with temporary sheets, and by the time I’d returned to my room, my desk was instated with the boxes stacked neatly in place. I eyed the two rooms. I needed to take Taehyung shopping so he could make his room feel the way he wanted, but the space looked neat and clean.

I found Yoongi making coffee in the kitchen. “Hey,” I said, getting out mugs. He eyed me warily.

“So I was thinking,” I persisted. “I know there’s no legal way to put things in Taehyung’s name, but is it possible to open a bank account for him if I sign for it? Like I would for Haru?”

“Why?”

I faced Yoongi. “I’m not going to take his shit, Yoongi. I want to treat him as respectfully as possible. He should have his own money and his own space and, when it’s legally possible, his own independence.”

Yoongi watched me. “Ok.”

“So is it possible to open a bank account?”

Yoongi put down the French press with a snort. “It’s possible, yeah. You’re still the account owner and can still sign for any money in it, though, so I don’t see the point.”

“It’s a gesture of good faith.” I squared my shoulders. “A promise.”

Yoongi poured boiling water into the press and watched the coffee grounds bubble. Finally he looked at me. “You don’t have to try to impress me.”

“This isn’t about you, Yoongi. It’s about Taehyung. You keep working for his freedom and I’ll try to make sure he doesn’t miss it too much in the meantime.”

“A pretty speech.” Yoongi shrugged, like he wasn’t swayed, but the lines between his brows relaxed. “I’ll hold you to it.”

“I expect you to. Do you want to go shopping with us?”

He flicked an eyebrow up. “For what?”

I groaned. “Yoongi, you’re not stupid. For Taehyung’s stuff! I don’t know if you care about interior decorating, but it seems like you want to keep an eye on me, so come along and help Taehyung pick stuff for his new room.”

Yoongi smirked. “I have expensive taste.”

“Whatever.”

Yoongi did have expensive taste. It was hard to blow the budget at the department store he took us to, though, and Taehyung chose frugally. “Come on, you can get nicer sheets than these,” I complained, feeling the itchy microfiber he’d chosen.

“They’re funny,” he said.

They had bananas wearing cowboy hats on them. I held up my hand. “Look, if this is what you want it’s fine. Just… think about how it’s going to feel to be surrounded by bananas in the middle of the night, darkness everywhere and every time you turn over—because these are itchy so you won’t sleep well—bam! Another banana.”

He grinned. “Ok, I’ll try again.” He brought back a set with cats eating spaghetti. I barked out a surprised laugh. “Joking,” he said with a huge smile, and the set he finally settled on was a simple creamy cotton.

Taehyung’s jokes took me off guard. I internally shook my head at myself. Of course he was funny. He was probably clever and cool too. Blindingly handsome as he was, I needed to see beyond that.

“Hey, Taehyung?”

“Yeah?”

“What’s your favorite food?”

He pushed back his hair, thinking. “Anything you make for me.”

I thanked my lucky stars no one was close enough to hear my breath catch. “…Don’t avoid the question. What’s your go-to order at a restaurant?”

“Japchae. Or…really, I’m not picky.”

Yoongi snorted. “Stop being so spineless.” He turned to me. “He is picky.”

“I’m not!” Taehyung’s eyes were glued to my face, distressed.

I gave him an easy grin. “I’m a good cook, Taehyung. If you don’t have favorites, then tell me what you don’t like. I like to experiment and it will be fun to change up recipes if they have stuff you don’t like.”

It took a reassuring nod from Yoongi before Taehyung gave me a list. I raised my eyebrows at his allergy to beans, especially when Yoongi argued, but made a mental note to swap the beans and rice on the weekly menu for a different Mexican dish. “Ok, we can start with japchae and go from there. How many pillows do you want?”

“Three!”

Yoongi watched us as if he was making a decision. Eventually he picked out a floor lamp and decided to change out the overhead light fixture too, a task I would not have attempted on my own. “I can do all of them if you want,” he offered, and I understood it was his way of making up.

Taehyung picked up a dinosaur coin bank. “Can I have this?”

“Are you sure that’s you asking and not my kid?” I teased.

Taehyung listened to the air. “Yup, it’s me. Definitely me.”

“Then put it in the cart.”

Yoongi came up, holding a tablecloth. “Did Jin tell you to burn your tablecloth yet? Because there’s no way he hasn’t noticed.”

I winced. “Yeah, he did, but it’s been a busy week.” Yoongi plonked the tablecloth in the cart.

Taehyung interrupted, holding up a mug. “Can I have this?”

I couldn’t decide whether to laugh or cry. The picture on the mug was a duck, wearing a tie. Reverse duck tie guy. “Yeah. If you don’t get that I’ll get it myself.”

Taehyung looked at me and quietly put two of them in the cart.

Evening drew on silently and without notice. Haru was still at Hoseok’s apartment, although the whole committee was coming back for dinner. I shoved the last of the new sheets into the dryer, flicked it on, and made my way to the kitchen.

Yoongi had the adoption papers spread out over the new tablecloth. “Ready?” he asked. Although his face was serious in the curlicue shadows spreading from the new light, his eyes had lost their hard edge.

“Let me get Taehyung.” I went over and knocked on his door.

“Come in.”

I slipped inside. Taehyung’s room looked cozy, with new curtains, thick blankets, and some of the trinkets he had found already displayed on his dresser and bookshelf. He was sitting on his bed staring at the floor. “Hey,” I said softly.

He didn’t move. I padded over. “Is something wrong?”

He was looking at his luggage. A garbage bag, I assumed full of clothes, and a cardboard box with some toiletries. My heart squeezed.

“You know,” he said. “This is everything I have in the world.” He looked up then. “A bag and a box.” He tried to smile. “At least I travel light.”

I didn’t even think. I knelt beside him and gripped his arms so he had to look at me. “Not everything. You have a dinosaur bank and a duck mug and an entire bookshelf empty just waiting for you to fill it. You have Haru. And—” I tilted my head fiercely. “You have me. Tell me whatever you need. We’ll find a way to make it happen.”

Taehyung’s eyes were brimming. “You’ve already— I can’t ask for more.”

I shook my head, fiercer. “No. Ask. Whatever it is, whatever you want.” I glanced at his tiny collection of belongings and jutted out my chin. “You take up all the space you want here. We’ll make room.”

Taehyung crooked his elbow over his face and cried. I gently rested my hand on his head. “Yoongi’s ready when you are.” I slipped out and shut the door quietly.

Yoongi said nothing when I came into the kitchen alone. I gave him a grim smile.

“I’m beginning to get it,” I said. “Where do I sign?”

Chapter Text

The morning sun settled over my new tablecloth as if it approved of the delicate bishop’s lace pattern. I sipped my coffee and studied the list in front of me. Haru’s surgery was next week. I could hear my baby stirring in his room, but we set no alarm on Saturdays. Taehyung’s door was still closed.

For now, I blinked into the sunlight and let the rich dark caffeine wash over my soul. After the hectic day yesterday, I felt like I’d reached warm shallows where I could drift for a minute without fear.

Haru’s door creaked. Little feet came pattering down the hall, and my boy appeared, hair tousled and pajama shirt twisted almost entirely backwards. He yawned. “Where’s Taehyung?”

I pointed my lips at the closed door. “He might still be sleeping, sweetheart. He had a big day yesterday.” I patted the table. “Come sit. Do you want eggs in a nest for breakfast?”

Haru frowned at Taehyung’s door and rubbed at one eye. “Ok.” He came over to me and climbed into my lap, sleepily burying his head in my shoulder. “When is he going to wake up?” he mumbled.

“I don’t know, baby. We can make him breakfast, though, and maybe he’ll be awake by then.”

“Yeah.” Haru yawned, tickling my neck with his hair.

Neither of us moved to get started on breakfast. I didn’t know if my baby would fit in my lap once his leg brace was on. For now, I ran my fingers through his hair and soaked in his cuddles.

Eventually he stirred. “Can I help make Taehyung’s eggs in a nest?”

“You don’t want to make eggs for me?” I pretended to pout.

He giggled. “I’m good at making eggs! I’ll make all the eggs. You write things and I’ll make all the breakfast,” and he hopped off my lap and strutted to the fridge.

I jumped after him, catching him around the middle and tickling his little belly. “Nooooo! Not all of it! Let me help, Master Chef Man!”

Haru squealed, twisting away from my hands. “Ok, okaaaay, fine.” He put his hand on my head. “I will let you help, but—” He held up a finger imperiously. “You have to listen to me and do exactly what I say. Otherwise you can get burned.”

“Everything?” I whined.

He fought back the giggles. “Safety first or no helping. That’s the rule.”

I slumped. “Ok, Master Chef Man. I’ll do what you say.” I tickled him.

He ran from me, giggling, around the table. When he had caught his breath, he put his hands on his hips. “The first rule is No Tickling. Ok?”

“Ok, I got it. That’s the first rule. What do we start with, Master Chef Man?”

He came back to the fridge. “Get the eggs and also the bread and also the butter.” He stretched up and unhooked his apron off its hook. “Wait, first you have to wear yours.”

Surprised that our ruckus hadn’t woken Taehyung, I eyed the three steaming breakfast sandwiches. “Haru, can you put these on the table?” I glanced at the clock. It was past ten already. “I’m going to see if Taehyung is hungry.”

I knocked hesitantly at his door. A throat cleared, and then “Come in” came from inside. I frowned. He was awake?

I cracked the door open. “Hey, breakfast is ready if you want some.”

“Ok. I’m coming.”

I went back to the table and sat down, still frowning. “Haru, baby, can you get the ketchup?”

Taehyung came to the table and I saw at a glance that he was fully dressed. It looked like he’d been awake for hours already. I smiled. “Good morning.”

The grin I got back was almost blinding. “Good morning. This smells really good.”

“I hope you like it.” I picked up my fork. “You were welcome to join us, you know,” I said casually, cutting into my sandwich.

“I know.”

I looked over at Taehyung. “Then?”

His smile was a little wistful. “I thought maybe you guys could use some time to yourselves. It’s a big adjustment, you know?”

I stopped chewing. “Taehyung.” When he looked down I pointed my fork at him. “Don’t do that. If you need some private time yourself to adjust, that’s totally fine, but don’t quarantine yourself because you think you’re going to be in the way.” I picked up another piece of sandwich. “It’s a sweet thought but you’re family now. We want you with us.” I chewed.

“I had to open up a big ketchup, Mommy, the old one was all—” Haru saw Taehyung and shrieked, “You woke up!” He threw himself at Taehyung and hugged tight.

I met Taehyung’s eyes over Haru’s head and raised my eyebrows. “We want you with us,” I repeated gently, and went back to my breakfast.

“Come on, baby, it’s only a little bit. And then we can go somewhere fun,” I coaxed.

Haru remained stubbornly planted on the sidewalk outside the salon. “I hate it.”

Taehyung looked between us. I straightened up, explaining. “He hates haircuts. Always has. I usually bribe him and it’s still a mess.” I shook my head in apology, bending back down to face Haru again.

Taehyung put his hands in his pockets. Before I could start reasoning with my boy again, Taehyung started whistling. “Wow, it sure does seem like a good day to get my hair cut,” he said. “Maybe they’ll give me a fancy stripe down the middle. Or—” he gasped. “Maybe they’ll mess up and I’ll be bald. I hope that doesn’t happen.” He sauntered through the door.

Haru looked at the door swinging shut. “Is Taehyung going to get a haircut?”

I stammered. “I— it looks like it.” I squinted at the inside of the salon. “They better not make him bald, though.”

“Will they make me bald?” Haru clutched my hand.

“No, baby, they’re just going to trim yours a little so it doesn’t keep getting in your eyes.”

Haru watched Taehyung take a seat inside. “Ok, if Taehyung is getting his hair cut then I want mine cut too.”

I blinked. “Ok. And then we’ll go somewhere fun right away.” I held the door open for him.

Taehyung was already in a chair, chatting brightly with a blue-headed stylist. I looked around for the stylist who usually took care of Haru and spotted his cherry hair near the back station. I led Haru forward. “Hi, Haechan! Got time for us right away?”

Haeachan lit up. “Sure thing! Hey, buddy, how’s it going?” He fist bumped Haru. “Let’s get this over with so you can go have fun.” He pulled a roll of stickers out of his apron. “Which one do you want today?”

Haru held the stickers. “Are you going to make Taehyung bald?”

“What?” Haechan followed Haru’s worried glance. “Oh, no way. Even Mark can’t mess up that bad. Mr. Taehyung’s hair will be fine.”

“I heard that!” Mark complained. “Dude, you’re making me look bad in front of the customer.”

Haechan cackled. “Your hair already does that for you.”

I couldn’t help laughing along. “I think it looks good, Mark. That color suits you better than the green fringe situation you had going on last time.”

“Right?!” Haechan exclaimed.

Taehyung’s eyes were slowly widening. “You change your hair color?”

“Yeah, man. Like, all the time. We do it for customers sometimes, but then, you know? We get bored and dye each other’s hair, and it’s like, a deal that we don’t make it look bad on purpose because before we had that rule—” Mark whistled out and slung a plastic cape around Taehyung’s shoulders.

Taehyung looked at me. “How expensive is it? For a customer?”

“Well, it depends on the color and stuff. Anywhere from fifty bucks for, like, a simple job to…” Mark scratched his head. “The complicated colors with bleaching are more like a hundred, two hundred. But those take a long time. A full day, even.”

Taehyung looked back at me. I felt Haru tugging at my hand and could almost hear my wallet crying in my back pocket. “Ok,” I said slowly. “Let me guess. You want to dye your hair, and Haru’s going to want to match.” I squeezed Haru’s hand. “Right?”

“Yeah!”

I looked down and Haru’s eyes were full of excitement. “Can I get red hair too, Mommy? Like Mr. Haechan?” The fear was completely gone from his face.

I tilted my head, laughing. “I can’t believe we’re having an impulse hair dying moment right now. I thought I’d be safe until you were in high school, at least.”

Taehyung leaned over from his chair. “Can I get red hair too? Like Mr. Haechan?” He mimicked Haru’s excitement exactly. They both looked at me expectantly, twin pairs of puppy eyes.

What was I supposed to do? “Fine, fine,” I said, laughing at the ridiculousness of it all. “But—” I turned to Haru. “This is the only treat, then. No arcade afterwards.”

Haru paused. Taehyung dropped the puppy eyes and looked at me, serious. “Arcade?”

“We usually go somewhere fun after the haircut to get his mind off it. Since today is… well, it’s also the last weekend before the surgery. So I wanted to splurge a bit and go to the arcade and— you know.” I twisted up my face. “I wanted it to be a good memory or something. Dumb, I know.”

“Not dumb.” Taehyung’s eyes held something I wasn’t prepared to name. I turned away quickly.

“What do you think, baby? Do you want red hair more?”

Haru nodded slowly. “Yup.” He looked up at Haechan. “I like red.” A huge toothy smile broke over his face. “Like an Angry Bird.”

“Hey!” Haechan said. He tweaked Haru’s cheek and softened when Haru giggled. “I’ll make you the angriest of birds, little man.”

“Why does no one ever want blue?” Mark grumbled as he began getting out a different set of bottles and tools.

The red came out darker than Haechan’s by a long shot. I didn’t want them using bleach on my baby, so Taehyung asked for the same process. When it was done, trimmed, and dried, Taehyung’s hair was dark red, almost black. Haru’s was a touch lighter and bolder. They examined it in a mirror.

“You look like a guy out of a movie!” Haru said, touching Taehyung’s hair. “One of the guys who’s almost a bad guy but is actually the goodest one.”

“Thank you,” Taehyung said solemnly. “You look like… hmmm.” His lips poked out as he thought.

“I look like a rocket!” Haru said. He jumped down from the stool and zoomed in a great circle around the salon. “I love it, Mommy! Vhooom! Vhooom!”

“Wow, I think that’s the most excited I’ve ever seen him,” Mark commented.

I smiled at my baby’s antics. “He’s usually so afraid of haircuts.” I turned back to the two stylists. “Thank you. You’ve always been extra gentle with him, and it’s really good to see him this happy.”

Haechan slung an arm around Mark’s shoulder. “You hear that, Markie? We made people happy.”

Mark didn’t shrug him off. “We did good.”

“You did real good.” I winked at them and got out my wallet. “What do I owe you?”

Of course the park was busy on a Sunday afternoon. We strolled along the path by the pond, swerving out of the way of the various strangers that had the same recreational principles, or perhaps the same fiscal limitations. I wished I’d brought a thicker coat. Autumn had settled in with the taste of winter already on the breeze.

Haru’s hair gleamed in the cold sunlight like one of the fallen leaves that littered the path. I watched him skip ahead and tried to erase his impending immobility from my mind. Today he could still walk and was not in pain. That needed to be enough.

Taehyung’s shoulder bumped into mine. I looked up to find him walking beside me, eyes on Haru. “What are you thinking about?”

I shook my head lightly. “Just trying not to worry.”

“He’s really special.”

“Yeah. He is.” I scrunched up my nose and swallowed down the growing lump in my throat.

We walked in silence past a couple huddled together on a bench. Taehyung reached out and took my hand. “You’re not alone,” he said softly.

I bit my lip. “Yeah.” I blinked hard. “Hey, Taehyung?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.”

He chuckled a little. “You’re welcome. For what?”

“Haircuts have always been an ordeal. I dread it, Haru dreads it, and… it had to get done before his surgery, but it was going to stain the entire day, no matter how much fun we had afterward. You made it a beautiful moment instead. I… I don’t know how you did it, but I’m really grateful.”

Taehyung ran his thumb across our interlocked hands. “You know those toast and egg things you made for breakfast?” I hummed. “I liked them.” He glanced over at me. “I don’t know how you made them, but they were good.”

I nodded.

“You take good care of Haru and now of me. I’ll take good care of Haru and of you.”

“Yeah.” I glanced at him. “Thank you anyway.”

He smiled at me, and all the light around us was in his eyes. “Thank you, too.”

I must have taken too long to start walking again. Taehyung tilted his head. My gaze caught on his freshly-dyed locks as they fell across his forehead. He wet his lips slowly. “Do you like it?” he asked, shy.

I blinked back to reality. “I do like it. It’s a subtle color, but it really stands out in the sunlight.”

He poked out his lips, pleased. He hesitated. “Do you think I should have gotten blue?”

 “No, I think Haru was right earlier. You look like a movie guy.”

“So I look good?” Taehyung’s eyes glimmered.

My palm started sweating. “You’ll look great no matter what color your hair is and don’t pretend you don’t know that,” I muttered, and pulled away to chase after Haru.

Taehyung’s laughter warmed me through. When we reached Haru he squeezed between us and took one of our hands in each of his. “Look! On that side of the pond there’s a goose. Can we go over there?”

I swung Haru’s hand in mine. “Let’s go, baby.”

With Haru skipping between, we walked onward in the autumn light.

Chapter Text

I stared through the doorway. Eyes big, Haru tucked into my side. Dr. Jaemin’s jaw hung to his chest. Jeno reached over to push it back into place. On the floor a blur slowly materialized into two people wrapped around each other, exclaiming and giggling.

“Taehyung?” I said. And then more uncertainly, “Jimin?”

Taehyung was radiant. Jimin flashed me his most charming smile. “I thought I had mentioned I was a nurse?”

“Yup. Yup, you sure did. That was definitely a thing you said.” My eyes flicked over the single chair that was straining to support both of them. I looked back at Jimin. “Didn’t know you worked here, though.”

Jimin grinned. “It’s a small world.”

I personally thought the world was pretty big, but I nodded. “So…” I glanced at Taehyung. “You’ve met, then?”

Taehyung beamed, his dyed hair bouncing under the florescent lights as he nodded. “Jiminie’s really good at taking care of sick people. Haru’s going to be in good hands.” He looked utterly confident.

There had to be more to that story, but now wasn’t the time to push. There were introductions to be made. I looked around for Haru.

He was chattering to Dr. Jaemin, showing off his new hair. I called him over. “Baby, this is Jimin. He’s going to help Dr. Jaemin take care of you.”

“Is he your friend?” Haru bounded over to Jimin.

“We’ve met before. And he’s friends with Jungkook, baby.” I fake-whispered, “He dances too.”

Haru grabbed Jimin’s hand. “Are you as good as Jay? Can you do that bam bam thing that he does when the song is really fast? Can you jump like this?” Haru tried to demonstrate some sort of spinning leap and tripped.

Jimin pulled him up before he could fall. “Woah there. Don’t go and bruise yourself up for us.” He winked at Haru. “I’m pretty sure Jungkook stole that jump from me.”

“Nu-uh, you can’t steal jumps,” Haru said, but his eyes were fixed on Jimin in awe. I caught Taehyung’s reassuring smile over their heads and looked away, quickly taking a deep breath. Ok. I could do this. Everyone here was good at their jobs, and we could do this.

We settled around the table and Dr. Jaemin got started with the explanation. He drew funny little sketches on a cartoon outline of a child’s body to show Haru where they would cut his bone and where the pins would go. Haru leaned in, rapt. “Am I gonna have a scar?”

“Yup, right here,” Dr. Jaemin gently poked Haru’s shin. “It will be covered up by your pants, though, so you don’t have to worry about it too much.”

“I’m gonna wear shorts all the time,” Haru said. “It’s gonna be so cool!”

The adults traded glances and laughed a little in relief. I smiled at my brave, brave boy.

“Any other questions?” Dr. Jaemin asked. He looked up, including me in the moment.

“How long…” I squeezed my hands together under the table. “How long will he be under?”

Dr. Jaemin nodded at Jimin, who spoke to me and Haru. “Typically the surgery itself is an hour, two at most. Then usually you’ll wake up about two hours after, maybe three.” Jimin turned to me. “We’ll page you once he’s starting to stir.” He grinned at Haru. “That way you’ll wake up with your mom next to you, and you won’t even remember she was gone.”

Haru nodded. “I saw a video of some boy who was saying funny things because he got his teeth yanked out. Will I say funny things?”

“Probably not,” Jimin answered. “It’s a different kind of medicine.”

“Aww, man! I was going to be famous!”

Dr. Jaemin ruffled Haru’s hair. “You’ll still be famous to me.”

“Ok.” Haru leaned over to look at the sketch again. “You’re a good drawer. When do I get to sleep?”

“We have to wait until other people are done with their surgeries. You should go play, and we’ll page your mom when it’s time to get you ready.” Dr. Jaemin gathered up his markers. “I’ll see you then, ok?”

“Yeah!” Haru said. He sounded entirely too happy about it.

Jeno handed me the pager on the way out the door. He gave me a once-over. “You ok?”

“Sure. I love waiting, it’s my favorite part.” I loosened my death grip on the pager and gave him a wry smile.

“Ha. I’ll come around to keep you updated if I can get away. Try not to worry, your kid is pretty resilient.”

“Yeah, I know.” I took a deep breath. “Thanks, Jeno.”

 “See you soon.”

I nodded. Jimin said, “Let me show you the waiting room.”

As we followed him out the door, I felt Taehyung’s fingers catch and hold the hem of my blazer. A tiny anchor. I squared my shoulders and marched toward the interminable hours ahead.

The pager beeped. They took my baby away.

Taehyung leaned over the railing of the rooftop garden next to me. Leaves shed from spindly maple trees in the quiet cold. I watched them falling, bright red as they caught the sunlight.

Taehyung shifted and I turned to him. His hair glowed. “You ok?” he asked.

“As much as I can be.” Taehyung’s nose was also turning red. I frowned. “The garden is nice, but we should go back in. You don’t have a thick enough coat for this kind of weather.”

Taehyung shuffled behind me. “No, you’re doing better out here. I’ll just—” and he wrapped his arms around me. “See? Warmer already.”

I was also warm. I was very warm, in fact, and I could imagine my cheeks were the color of the leaves if the heat they radiated was any indication. “Taehyung, we can just go ins—”

He put his chin on my shoulder. “Hmmm. If we go inside you’re going to stare at the work papers you brought and strangle the pager until it marks up your hand. We should stay.”

I clutched the pager in my pocket. “I can do that here too, you know.”

“But you aren’t.”

I didn’t have anything to say to that. “Fine. Five minutes. We can’t have you catching a cold.”

“You worry too much.”

“It’s almost like it’s my job or something.”

He lifted his chin from my shoulder. “It’s not,” he said seriously. “I’m also an adult and you can trust me to take care of myself.”

Adult. That word tumbled through my mind like a falling leaf and came to rest in my belly with a thud. That’s right. Taehyung was a grown man. I straightened in his arms, suddenly unbearably itchy. “Hey, I think I saw a vending machine in the hallway on the way. Let’s get a snack or a drink.” I wriggled out of his hold.

“Now?”

“Yeah.”

“Ok,” Taehyung said. He frowned at me, then pulled me in and rested his arm across my shoulders to guide me to the entrance.

I reached for the door, slipping from under his arm. “Pepsi or Coke?”

“Um, Fanta?”

When we got back to the waiting room another family had settled in the opposite corner from my things. Both of the children were crying. Their parents were barely holding it together. Jeno came in a few seconds after we did, carrying a stuffed bear wearing a shirt with the hospital’s name. He went over to the little girl and knelt in front of her. “Hi, my name is Fuzzy Wuzzy and I need a friend. Can I be your friend?” Jeno said in a squeaky voice, wiggling the bear’s arms.

The little girl no longer wailed.

“I could really use a hug,” Jeno urged in his squeaky voice, hopping the bear a little closer. The child clasped the bear close. Her tears trickled to a halt.

Her older brother manfully choked back his sobs. Jeno turned to him next and said cheerfully, “Hey, you wanna see a trick?”

The boy swiped at his eyes. “Is it cool?”

“I don’t know, you tell me.” Jeno pointed at the top of his head. “Look really closely.” He tilted his head at the boy. “Really, you’ve got to watch. If you blink you might miss it.”

The boy sniffled. “I’m not gonna miss it.”

“Ok then.” Jeno shook his long white bangs until they whipped out in a cloud around his head. I held in a gasp. Two triangle ears emerged from Jeno’s head, perching in his now longer and fluffier hair. His hair settled and he was the perfect picture of a kind, clever canine.

“Woah,” the boy breathed out. The tears dried up. “Ok, that’s a pretty cool trick.”

Jeno’s eyes crinkled up in fun, transforming him into a mischievous puppy. “Do you want to pet me?”

The children reverently touched Jeno’s ears. They forgot to cry. Even their parents lost a little of the haggardness underneath their eyes as they watched.

A beeping broke through the moment. I grabbed for my pager, but it was silent in my hand. The parents across from us hurriedly gathered their things and shepherded their children out. I glared at my pager. Why was it silent?

Jeno made his way over, and I grinned at him. “That was quite the show. Do you use that trick a lot?”

“It comes in handy.” He looked a little shy. “I hope it didn’t weird you out.”

I watched his transformed ears in awe. “No, they’re cute.”

“Oh. That’s good, then.”

“You look exactly like those white dogs, the smiley ones with really fluffy fur.”

Taehyung cleared his throat. “Samoyed.”

“That’s right,” Jeno said, locking eyes with Taehyung.

The energy in the room had gone sour. I looked between the two hybrids and smiled nervously. “Well, Samoyeds are supposed to be friendly and tough. I’d say that tracks.” I shoved my pager at Jeno. “I think this thing is broken. It hasn’t beeped even once since Haru went into surgery.”

Jeno laughed at me. “It’s been an hour.”

“Oh. Right.” I frowned at the pager and poked it. “It’s probably broken though.”

Jeno patted my shoulder. “Hang in there. It’ll beep as soon as you can see him.” He got up, his ears shrinking back to normal.

I caught his hand as it fell away. “You’ll come tell me if something goes wrong?”

Jeno squeezed my hand and promised, “Nothing will go wrong. I’ll be sure to update you as soon he’s out of surgery.” He left to go about his business.

I swigged my Pepsi, stared at the sunlight streaming over the cheerful chairs and aggressively patterned carpet, and decided this was the ugliest room I’d ever seen.

Chapter Text

“How long have you known Jeno?” Taehyung asked.

I looked up from my work papers. “Huh?”

“The Samoyed. You two seemed like great friends.”

Something was wrong with Taehyung’s face. I blinked at him. “We met when Dr. Jaemin did the first evaluation for Haru. It’s been… what, two and a half months? Something like that.”

“Ah.”

When Taehyung didn’t say anything else, I explained, “He was the first hybrid I met, and he’s actually the one who convinced me trying to adopt would be a good idea.” I reached for my Pepsi before remembering it was empty.

Taehyung’s face stayed set. “It seemed like you liked his hybrid form.”

“Well, yeah. That’s the first time I’ve seen it.” I went back to my papers. “That’s the first time I’ve seen a hybrid transform, period. It’s pretty fascinating.”

The room was quiet, dust motes drifting in the sunlight that inched across the geometric carpet. I shuffled my papers on the low coffee table and made a note. I’d finally gotten myself to focus.

I didn’t notice Taehyung moving until the couch dipped and an arm snuck around my waist. I looked up, irritated. “Hey, I’m working here.”

“This is the best spot for a nap.”

I huffed, shoved his arm away, and slid onto the floor in front of my papers. “Fine.” He whined. “You have the whole couch, Taehyung. Let me work.”

“I want you.”

My lungs wouldn’t work quite right, but I was not ready to deal with that. I scooted up to the table, away from the hands that had come to rest on my shoulders, and snorted, “Well, I’m busy. Take your nap.”

I forced my eyes down the paper in front of me. I got half-way down before I realized I hadn’t understood a thing. Taehyung stayed unnervingly silent behind me. I started over at the top of the page.

“Emma?” Taehyung’s voice was silky soft and low and right next to my ear.

I swung around, ready to lay down some boundaries, and gasped instead. Taehyung’s face was inches from mine and his eyes—

He’d shifted. His straight blond hair tufted and swept down, framing his cheekbones, tumbling thick over his shirt collar. On top every strand caught gold from the sunlight and underneath, as it fell, it darkened to a striking black. His furry round ears hid in the lush mane of hair. Mesmerizing little dark lines marked the inside corners of his eyes, which glowed tawny and depthless.

“What do you think?” he purred. Wait, purred? I was not keeping up well. “My ears. Are they cute too?”

My eyes flicked to his ears. Nope, not good. I needed to move before I tried to pet him. I shoved myself back against the table. “Sure, Tae. Real cute. I need to—”

His eyes flickered. “Are you going to run away from me?”

“Not running. Just need a little… space,” I said, and I managed to stand up and back away enough to shove my hands firmly in my pockets where they could do no harm.

Taehyung rose to face me and his eyes were burning. “Are you afraid of me?” he growled, his long tail lashing.

I snorted. “No.” It wasn’t his hands traitorously twitching in their pockets.

“I’m dangerous,” he insisted.

“Yes, you’re very dangerous in plenty of ways, Taehyung. Doesn’t mean I’m afraid of your hybrid form.”

He grabbed my arm. “Then why do you keep shaking me off? Is it Jeno? You wanted a charming little doggie instead?”

I yanked my arm back and drew myself up, stepping into his space. “What is your problem? I’m not touchy in the best of times. You keep crowding me, of course I’m going to push you away.”

Taehyung’s eyes snapped yellow. “That’s not—”

I hastily changed the subject. “And it has nothing to do with Jeno. Don’t make this some kind of weird competition, Taehyung. Haru picked you. I picked you. You picked us. Do you want to go back on that?”

His ears were laid back against his skull. “But you didn’t know I was a lion then.”

“Yes I did,” I scoffed. “I did!” I insisted when he glared at me. “It’s on the adoption paperwork, dummy. And I don’t exactly understand why you’re making a big deal out of it.”

“Oh.” Taehyung’s ears wilted. “You knew?”

“Yeah.”

“You… and… you still picked me?”

“Well, yeah, Haru had already bonded and everyone said it would…” I couldn’t find an unincriminating way to finish that sentence.

I changed tactics. “Look, I don’t know why this is so important to you, and I don’t have that smelling emotions thing you do, so if I do things to upset you you’re going to have to spell it out for me like I’m stupid.”

Taehyung inched forward. “Please don’t push me away?” He closed the gap and his amber eyes filled with pleading. “Please? I need…” he bumped against me.

I could handle this much. Probably. “Yeah. Come here, you.” I wrapped my arms around him. I stroked his hair (fur?) lightly as he buried his face in my shoulder.

My fingers found something at the back of his neck. He flinched. I froze.

He pulled away. “Thank you,” he said, and his ears started to shrink back to their standard shape.

“Tae, what is—”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” He took my hand. “Haru will wake up and we should eat before.”

I agreed and let him pull me towards the cafeteria. My fingers twitched with the memory of the shape I’d discovered, though, and I couldn’t focus on the menu. Why did Taehyung have a collar mark worn into the fur around his neck?

Haru’s face was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. No matter that he had a tube in his nose and his puffy eyes were still shut. I almost cried with relief as I settled beside his hospital bed, touching his hand gently where it lay on the white cover. My baby. I had my baby back.

“He’ll probably start to stir in about an hour. Don’t worry if he mumbles or moves around a bit. That’s normal, and even if he sounds distressed he won’t remember anything when he’s fully awake again,” Jimin said.

“Thank you,” I said, not able to tear my eyes from my boy.

Jimin murmured to Taehyung. At some point the door clicked closed and I was left alone with my son. I looked him over, an inch at a time. It wasn’t like I would be able to see if there was something wrong but I checked anyway. He was all there. His new leg brace made a bulky cylinder under his blanket.

I laid my hand over Haru’s and pulled out my paperwork, but ended up leaving it in a pile at the bottom of the bed. Taehyung’s insistence that we finish our meal before going to the hospital room made sense now. I wasn’t leaving anytime soon.

Some time later Taehyung and Jimin came back in. “Let me check his vitals really quickly,” Jimin said, and I moved back. Taehyung wrapped an arm around my shoulders. I remembered not to shove him away in time. Instead, I reached up and took his hand, bringing it down to swing between us.

Jimin was gentle and efficient. When he was done he smiled at me. “He’s doing so well. Let Taehyung keep an eye on him so I can show you where the nurses’ station is in case you need something later.”

“Oh…” I hesitated.

Taehyung sat down in my seat. “Go.”

I was outnumbered. “Okay.” I reluctantly followed Jimin out.

Once the door had closed, Jimin turned to me. “The nurses’ station is down that hall to the left. You can’t miss it.”

“Okay, but you—”

“I need to talk to you.”

His eyes were serious and my stomach instantly soured. “Did something go wrong?”

“Not with Haru. But I wanted to give you some advice. Taehyung is worried you’re going to give him back.”

“What?! Why would I do that?”

Jimin held up his hand. “I told him you wouldn’t but he’s worked up about it. He says you fought earlier. Now—”

“We didn’t exactly fight,” I protested.

“Okay, but he says you’re not telling him the truth. I don’t know exactly about what, but he hasn’t told you much about his past either, has he?”

“No.”

“So that’s a thing you guys need to talk about. Right away. I promised him confidentiality, so I’m not able to explain why, but when I met Taehyung it was for a specific reason and not a good one. You’re smart enough to figure out what that might mean.” Jimin’s eyes were so intent I simply nodded. “And you need to tell him whatever you have going on. It’s freaking him out.”

“You sound like Yoongi,” I muttered.

Jimin’s eyes darkened. “Yeah. There’s a reason for that.”

“Okay. I’ll talk.” Jimin looked me over. “I promise.”

Jimin held out his pinky. If he wasn’t so serious, I’d have laughed at the gesture. I leaned forward and completed the link. “I promise,” I told him, and though my heart cried out in anticipated pain I meant it.

Chapter Text

Haru came to with horrible little whimpers that I couldn’t soothe until he was fully awake. Just like Jimin had said, though, he didn’t remember being in pain. He slept so much at first. Taehyung and I took shifts through the night, but it wouldn’t really have mattered.

Day two was much the same. My baby did gradually get some of his spirit back, but the heavy painkillers kept him groggy. It felt like a fever dream. I would have forgotten to eat completely if Taehyung hadn’t periodically pried me away. We didn’t talk, really. I occasionally remembered to take Taehyung’s hand, but my mind was full of Haru, Haru, Haru.

Hoseok showed up on day three and scolded me soundly for ignoring the world. “You’re going home tonight,” he said, and sat down beside Haru’s bed like a sentinel. “You need to get a full night of sleep before Haru is released and I’ll get Jungkook to carry you home kicking and screaming if I have to.”

A determined Hoseok was a force to be reckoned with. “Fine,” I said. I gathered my things. Taehyung hovered over my shoulder as I regarded Hoseok, Jimin quietly making notes on Haru’s chart behind him. “Call me right away if something happens,” I warned.

“Yeah,” Hoseok said easily. When I glared at him he waved his pinky at me. “I promise.”

Jimin caught my eyes over Hoseok’s head. Oh. Right. I had my own promise to keep.

The apartment felt empty without Haru, like its soul had been sucked away. Or maybe that was me. I dropped my coat by the door and toed off my shoes, leaving them where they fell.

“Tea?” I said.

Taehyung quietly hung his coat on its hook. “Okay.”

I put the kettle on and took my purse to my room, shrugging off my blazer and grabbing the softest sweatshirt I owned as a replacement. I didn’t want to do this. But Jimin was right. Taehyung and I needed to talk and we weren’t going to get a better chance.

I slumped on my desk chair. “Just get this over with so you can get to bed and then get back to the hospital bright and early,” I muttered to myself, tugging on the sweatshirt. I pulled the edges of the long sleeves into my hands and gripped them for a minute before I forced myself up to see if the kettle was hot.

Taehyung had set out the matching duck mugs. The grassy smell of chamomile wafted up as I poured steaming water over my tea bag. I said, “Living room?”

“Okay,” Taehyung said, and we carried our mugs to the darkened room. I flicked on the side table lamp as I settled on the couch. Taehyung curled into the chair opposite me, face mostly in shadow.

I cleared my throat. “I’m not going to give you back, Taehyung.”

He just looked at me.

“Look, Jimin said—” I restarted. “If that’s what you’re worried about, you don’t need to be. I made you a promise. I meant it when I said we’d make room for you here, and I still mean it.”

Taehyung sipped. “Hmmm.”

“What, you don’t believe me?” I narrowed my eyes at him. “I literally can’t do this without you. It’s not like I have a lot of options. I intend to make this work.”

Taehyung set his mug down on the coffee table. It thudded. “Okay. But here’s the thing, Emma. You said you’d make room for me, and you have in some ways. I have a room and food and clothing and decorations. But—” his face stayed in shadow. “You know and I know that’s not the same thing as a home. You say a lot of things about how you want me here.”

He shifted into the light, and his eyes were so sad my heart stuttered. “If you really want me here, then you can’t lie to me, you know? You can’t push me away. You have to make room—” Taehyung placed his fingers over his heart “—here.”

I fiddled with the cuffs of my sweatshirt. That stung. I was trying.

“I’m trying,” I whispered.

“Are you?”

“I am!” I put my own mug down. “It’s— I’m sorry, Taehyung. It’s not easy for me to— I’m not good at letting people in. Never have been. And I hear you, and I’ll do what I can, but please understand it’s not easy and it’s going to take longer than you want.”

I looked down, trying to hold it together. “I get that this isn’t ideal for you. Some deadbeat mom and her kid come knocking on your door and asking you to sacrifice your own hopes and dreams because they’re desperate. I’m not taking you for granted and… and I’ll help you find something better, if you need it. But can you give us a chance first? I really do mean it. I want this to work.”

Taehyung looked at me like I was insane. “You’re acting like I want to leave. Why?”

“You deserve better.” The duh was implied. I held my hand out towards his room. “I can give you a closet and a duck mug and a tiny, tiny fraction of the care and affection you deserve. If you settle for that…” I shook my head.

“Emma.” Taehyung was up and moving, kneeling in front of me. “What?”

“You deserve better,” I insisted stubbornly. If you haven’t figured that out yet you will soon.

Taehyung tilted his head up and the lamplight spread over his perfect features like a caress. “You know, most shelters don’t take exotic hybrids.”

I squinted at him. “What does that have to do—”

“Dog and cat mixes. That’s it. The rest of us… the ones who make it off the streets don’t get much further than bars or brothels. Beyond the Scene Foundation is one of the few places that will take in hybrids who aren’t pretty little pets, who could be dangerous. When you came there you didn’t blink at Momo’s tail or Yeonjun’s teeth or Hueningkai’s horns. Do you know how rare that is?”

“I didn’t know anything,” I protested. “I didn’t know there was some kind of hierarchy. That’s messed up, Taehyung.”

He gripped my knees. “See? This. You didn’t know. But you immediately say it’s not right.”

“Well, yeah. Racism is wrong no matter who it’s against. I’m not special for calling it out.”

“But people don’t call it out.” He held up his hand when I started to protest again. “It’s not just that. You did know I was a lion and you still signed the papers. Like it didn’t matter.”

“It doesn’t!”

“It does.” Taehyung’s eyes flickered amber in the light, filling with tears. “It really does matter. I lived in a place—” he cut off. “Before the Foundation I was with another family and they never let me forget how much it mattered.” He touched his neck unconsciously.

He shook his head, brushing his hair back off his forehead. “Yoongi found me, took me out of there, got me to the Foundation. Jimin patched me up and I tried to get adopted a few times and the families always stopped coming around once they knew what I was.” He squeezed my knees gently. “It really does matter.”

“Oh, Tae,” I murmured. I reached out and wiped his cheek where one tear had run down. “I’m sorry.”

“So don’t say that I deserve better. You are… you don’t understand how wonderful you are, like a hero, like an angel. You’ve given me hope back. If I don’t settle for that…”

He was saying such incredible things and he was so earnest and he was still on his knees in front of me. I laughed awkwardly. “Okay, I guess if you put it that way.” I patted his head and shifted away.

“Why do you keep doing that?” Taehyung huffed.

“Doing what?” I asked innocently.

And then Taehyung was inches away, face hovering in front of mine, hand on my cheek. His other hand had found its way to the small of my back and my knees were braced around his waist. “You keep running away,” he said. “Why do you keep running away?”

“I—” I choked.

He sniffed, eyes flecking with the barest hint of yellow. “You know I can smell how much you like it.”

Fear slammed into my chest with steel-toes boots, knocking the wind out of me. “Tae, you have to let me go.”

“Why?” he drawled.

“Please, Tae—” I shoved at him. White noise bloomed around the corners of my senses. “Get off!”

He was gone and I was on the other side of the room, breathing hard. I pulled my sweatshirt cuffs down and gripped them in my fists, willing the shaking to stop. I looked back.

Taehyung sprawled on the floor where he’d allowed himself to be shoved. He studied me. “Sorry,” I muttered. “Sorry. Just—” I ran my hand through my hair. “Sorry.”

“That was my fault,” Taehyung said evenly. “Please come sit down again.”

I did, perching precariously in front of him.

“Want to tell me what all that was about?” He stayed on the floor, hands where I could see them.

“Not really.”

“Okay, then. Why did you apologize?”

“Well, I don’t need to freak out on you.”

Taehyung watched me. “I’m the one who pushed your boundaries. I’m the one who needs to apologize.” When I didn’t say anything he sat up slowly, face still completely serious. “I’m sorry, Emma.”

“Apology accepted.” I tried to smile.

“You are so afraid of being touched.” I flinched. Taehyung kept looking at me steadily. “Why?”

“I don’t know.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

“I—” I looked at my balled up sleeves in my lap. Time to get it over with. “I had a relationship where I did too much touching. It ended badly.”

Taehyung’s face was almost eerily impassive. “Did he hurt you?”

“No.”

“What happened?”

“He left me.”

“And Haru?”

“Haru wasn’t born yet, but yeah. Haru too.”

“What a shit thing to do.” Taehyung’s voice was perfectly controlled but his nostrils flared. “Haru’s dad?”

“Yeah.”

Taehyung got up then, going back to his chair and picking up his mug. I grabbed my own for something to do. He sipped, staring fiercely into the middle distance. After a long silence he put his mug down. “Okay, here’s what I think we should do then,” he said with finality.

“I won’t leave you and you won’t throw me out. When those worries come around we throw them away; they’re lies, and not true. I’ll ask when I need affection and you’ll warn me when I push too much.” He looked at me. “Anything else?”

I fidgeted with my mug. At some point I probably had to tell him most of my problem was that he was stupidly hot and I was a simple girl who liked pretty things, but there were limits to the honesty I could muster in a single conversation. I compromised. “I’ll try to let you in, and you’ll try to be patient.”

Taehyung’s eyes softened. “Deal.” He held up his mug.

“Deal,” I said, and clinked my mug with his.

We got up to put the tea things away. As I took Taehyung’s empty mug from him, I apologized one last time. “I really didn’t mean to freak out on you. I’m going to work on that.”

“Instead you should stop saying you’re sorry so much.” When I didn’t change expression, he sighed. “Look, I got upset over Jeno earlier for a very dumb reason. Now you got a little upset too, and we’re even.”

I looked at the floor to conceal my tiny smile. “Even-steven.”

“I saw that. You don’t need to hide, my sweet angel.”

“I’m not sweet or an angel, Taehyung.” I crinkled up my nose at him.

“My sweet angel, my cute angel, my guardian angel.”

“Aren’t those things like, seventeen feet tall with multiple wings and a ton of eyes?”

Taehyung looked me up and down. “Yup.”

“Hey!”

His laughter lit up the dark room and washed over my bruised heart, warming every corner of our little apartment.

Chapter Text

Haru came home in a whirlwind of late fall leaves and boisterous boys. Hoseok and Jungkook assumed their presence was vital, Jimin’s shift ended and he insisted we needed his help, and when we got back to the apartment complex Jin and Yoongi stood on the curb, Jin with his pillow under his arm and Yoongi with his characteristic smirk.

“We’re making supper,” Yoongi said before I could open my mouth.

“And I’m staying over to take care of Haru,” Jin said.

“You’re not,” I told Jin. “I appreciate it but—” I tried to tell Yoongi before his expressionless stare reminded me that he was Yoongi. “Fine,” I said. I turned to the others. “Dinner, but then everyone needs to go home. Haru needs rest, not a party, and frankly I’m feeling like Scrooge’s nightgown right now.”

“What?” Jimin asked.

“Threadbare,” I clarified, and punched in the code for the entrance.

Taehyung gathered Haru up from the wheelchair. Jungkook folded up the chair. “Does this need to come all the way up the stairs?” he said, hefting it.

“I imagine we won’t get much use out of it upstairs. Might as well leave it in the entrance closet.”

“No, Mommy. Bring it upstairs so I can zoom in the hallway,” Haru protested.

I patted his head where it rested against Taehyung’s shoulder. “You heard the boss, Kook.”

Yoongi quietly and competently took over my kitchen. Jin alternated between helping and insisting that he was staying the night. “I’m just saying that sometimes you need to let other people do stuff for you. Accepting help is an important part of character growth. So I should stay.”

I took his pillow and threw it out into the apartment hallway. “No,” I said for the twenty-eight time.

Haru chirped from the couch, “It’s okay, Uncle Jinnie. You can come tomorrow instead.”

“Uncle Jinnie?” I raised my eyebrows.

“He said to call him that always,” Haru said, shrugging his shoulders. The blanket wrapped around him slipped down. Jungkook hurriedly snuggled it up underneath his little chin again.

I glared at Jin. “Uncle Jinnie!?”

Jin didn’t even have the grace to look abashed. “Yup! The best uncle ever, right here,” he said, jerking a thumb at himself. “Ow! Hot!” He quickly put the tasting spoon down and licked the splattered sauce off his hand.

“In your dreams, grandpa.” Jungkook came over and blocked the kitchen doorway threateningly. “I’m the best uncle.”

“Sorry,” Jimin said from the living room where he was organizing Haru’s medications. “I hate to disappoint all of you, but I’m the best uncle.”

“Hmmm. You’re all great, but everyone knows who the best uncle is, and it’s clearly me. Right, buddy?” Hoseok threw Haru a finger heart.

Yoongi silently handed Jin the spatula and walked out to the couch. He pulled out his phone. “I’m ordering ice cream right now. How much?”

“How much?” Haru’s eyes widened with confusion and interest.

“Yeah. How much until I’m the best uncle?”

“Oh.” Haru thought about it. “Five.”

Jimin gasped. “You’re going to sell out just like that, Haru? What about Taehyung? I’ll accept second-best uncle only if Taehyung is the best uncle.”

Taehyung slowly wet his lips but didn’t correct Jimin. It was Haru who spoke up. “Taehyung isn’t an uncle. He’s just the best,” he said earnestly.

Jimin looked at Taehyung. Taehyung was looking at me. I was determinedly avoiding eye contact with everyone by stirring the vegetables Yoongi had abandoned. I cleared my throat. “Really? This is what you’re fighting about? None of you are uncles except for Jin because apparently—” and I glared at him “—I can’t stop him.”

Chaos erupted. The boys piled into the living room, promising Haru anything he wanted if he would please, pretty please call them uncle too. Taehyung dodged them and came into the kitchen laughing. He slipped an arm around my waist and pushed his thumb between my eyebrows, straightening out the frown wrinkles. “It’s because they like him,” he soothed. “And Haru is having the time of his life.”

He was, but I was not. I patted Taehyung’s hand away from my face and scowled at the living room. “Y’all need to eat and then leave. I’d have studied sword-swallowing if I wanted to live in a circus.”

Yoongi came back to the kitchen and Jungkook started setting the table. Jimin came over to pin Haru’s med chart to the fridge, eying Taehyung’s arm around me as if he wanted to ask something, but he didn’t. “I’m the best uncle though, right?” Hoseok whispered to Haru when he thought I couldn’t hear.

“Hey!” I stared Hoseok down. Haru and Hoseok giggled, completely unrepentant.

I sighed. Arm still around me, Taehyung maneuvered me out of Yoongi’s way and into the hallway, away from the others. He turned to face me. “You’re worrying so much right now. What’s wrong?”

Taehyung’s eyes searched my face earnestly and the world got a little quieter. “They’re— I’m sorry, Tae. I don’t mean to be prickly.” I scrubbed a hand over my face. “I’m so tired,” I confessed.

He rubbed soothing circles on my back. “Hmm.”

“I know they’re just trying to help but I’m barely staying upright at this point.”

Taehyung nodded. “Do they need to go?”

“No, no. After dinner.” Haru really was enjoying the attention.

“Okay, what do you need to get through dinner?”

I heaved in a breath. “This helped.” I smiled a small smile up at him. He smiled a small smile back at me.

When we turned around, Jimin was leaning casually against the kitchen doorframe. “So I guess you two have figured out where you stand with each other?”

“Yup!” Taehyung grinned.

“Sure,” I said at the same time.

Jimin’s eyes narrowed the tiniest bit. “Okaaaay…”

I raised my eyebrows at him. “We’re good, if that’s what you need to know.”

Jimin let his eyes drop to Taehyung’s arm. “Looks like you’re a little better than ‘good,’ but I can take a hint.” He twirled and headed back into the living room to pick up the hand of Uno that Hoseok had dealt for him. I could see him cozying up to Haru, getting ready to whisper something.

When people’s eyes twinkled like that it usually didn’t end well for me. “Nope, nuh-uh. Mischief management time,” I said, tapping Taehyung to let me go, and shot out into the living room. “Deal me in, potentially best uncle,” I told Hoseok. I gave Jimin a blindingly innocent grin and snuggled up to Haru’s other side. “Hey baby! Want to see how many times we can make these two losers draw four?”

That night Haru insisted he could sleep in his own room without any adults camped on the floor next to him. I gave him the pain meds on the schedule, heavy ones that he could only be on for a couple of days, and he fell asleep before he could even ask for a bedtime story.

I left both of our doors open. I set a timer for four hours, when he’d need his meds again. Although I wasn’t sure I would be able to relax, I was asleep before the small noises of Taehyung brushing his teeth and washing his face faded into silence.

The timer jolted me awake. I silenced it, groggily wondering why it was so dark if it was time to get ready for work. I peered at my phone’s display. Oh. Right. This one was for Haru’s meds.

I peeled myself out of bed, scrubbing my eyes and praying that my baby wouldn’t be hard to wake. I bumped up against my closed door.

Wait, closed?

I stared at it stupidly for a long minute before I remembered that I had hands and it had a doorknob. I opened it and wandered out into the hallway. The kitchen light had been turned off. I flicked it back on, squinting into the glare, and found Haru’s meds on the counter.

A bright pink sticky note on top stopped me. I read it blearily. Haru’s already had his meds. Please sleep.

I checked Haru’s med chart. The entry had been checked off. I scratched my head and drifted back into my room. Okay, I would sleep then.

Work that week was a nightmare. Haru felt pretty good all doped up on his painkillers, and there was only so much we could do to keep him entertained in his silly, sleepy mood swings. Principal Kim and Jessi had told us they would start sending packets home for Haru after week two, so that he would have some time to recover, but halfway through week one I was highly tempted to call Namjoon and beg him for anything he had.

Instead I texted Jimin, who sympathized but told me to expect a bit of a change when Haru went off the strong painkillers and we started turning the struts on his brace to grow the bone. I didn’t want my baby to be in pain. I didn’t. But I did think that maybe the doctors had limits on the prescription for oxycodone for more than one reason.

I ended up calling Namjoon anyway at the end of the week. “Hey,” I said as non-desperately as I could. “Do you think Jessi would be cool with making up a packet or two for Haru this next week?”

Namjoon was unfazed. “I’m sure we can come up with something. How’s the little guy doing?”

As I filled him in on Haru’s current activity of wheeling up and down the apartment complex with his stuffed dinosaur on a leash as company, I could hear the quiet clinks of dishes being set out in the background. “I’m sorry to bother you. It sounds like you’re getting ready for supper,” I said, getting ready to end the call.

“Oh, don’t worry about it. It’s better if I stay out of the way when Ari’s cooking anyway. And she’s always eager to hear updates about my students, too. I swear, sometimes she gets so invested I think she should have been the principal.” The fondness in Namjoon’s voice was unmistakable.

An idea sprouted in my head. “Would she like to meet Haru?”

“I mean, probably.” Namjoon covered the phone speaker and held a muffled conversation. “She says yeah.”

“Then why don’t you come over for supper one of these days?”

“Wow, yeah, that would be cool. Let me figure out what night will work and I’ll text you. And also with what Jessi says.”

“Thank you, Namjoon. Really.”

He tsked at me through the phone. “You already know this, but I’m happy to help.”

Haru’s painkillers wore off around bedtime. He knew he wasn’t allowed to have the strong ones anymore and took his Tylenol quietly, drinking the whole cup of water and handing it back to me. “How are you doing?” I asked him.

“It’s okay, Mommy,” he said.

“Do you want me to stay in here tonight?”

“No.” He lay back on his pillows, face drawn. “I’ll just sleep. I’m tired anyway.”

I ran my hand gently across his curls. “I’m leaving my door open. Call me if you need something, or if you can’t sleep, or if you—”

He cracked his eyes open and grinned at me. “I’ll scream so loud.”

“Yeah.” I stood up, wiping my hands down the side of my jeans.

“It’s okay, Mommy,” he said again, making an effort to smile bigger. “You need to go sleep too. Because soon I’m going to scream really really loud, like this—”

I hastily put my hand over his mouth. “Yeah, yeah, I get it. I know.” I booped his nose. “I know, baby.” I flicked off the lamp, turned on his night light, and left his door open as I exited.

Sometime in the middle of the night I turned over and heard a child crying. I clawed my way out from underneath my blankets to go to my son. Across from my door another door clicked open and a slender figure padded down the hall in the dim light. Haru’s muffled sobs choked off. A deep voice murmured gently, and my son sniffled. I listened, still halfway under my covers.

Haru said something quietly and Taehyung answered. Taehyung came down the hall, rustled around in the kitchen, and went back past my door with a cup of water. I could hear Haru drink. Taehyung spoke again and Haru’s faint whisper came back, “It hurts.”

I lay helpless. He’d had his medicine and there was nothing I could do. As my heart screamed in my chest, I squeezed my eyes shut and desperately forced myself to figure out how, impossibly, I was going to take his pain away.

A new sound rose up through Haru’s sniffles.

I want some good day, good day good day.

I hadn’t known Taehyung could sing. Gentle and low, his voice melted through the apartment.

Looks like a winter bear, you sleep so happily. Haru’s sniffles trickled to a halt. I wish you good night, good night good night.

I turned my face away. Tears of my own leaked out from my tightly closed eyes. Taehyung had done it again, the impossible thing suddenly and simply possible because he decided it was. I tilted my face to the ceiling and I let the tears fall.

Taehyung sang, imagine your face, say hello to me, then all the bad days they’re nothing to me with you. He was with us. My son was safe. I was not alone.

I cried myself to sleep silently in the dark to the sound of Taehyung humming sleep like a winter bear.

Chapter Text

“My friends are coming?!” Haru was having a hard time staying on the couch.

I shook my head at him. “Not those friends. We’ll have the together boys some other time. I invited Mr. Kim to come for dinner and he’s going to bring his wife since she wants to say hi.”

“Oh.”

“But Mr. Kim will be fun too, right?”

“I guess. I want to see my friends though.” Haru heaved a sigh and stared wistfully at his blanket-covered brace. “They’re going to think this is so cool.”

I laughed and ruffled his hair. “Okay, we’ll invite them for dinner soon.”

Taehyung came into the hallway holding two ties. “This one or this one?”

I looked them over. They were both beautiful, one a pastel swirl of blues and purples that looked hand-painted and the other a deep, textured forest green. I shrugged. “You don’t need to wear a tie, Taehyung. It’s not that fancy.”

“But he’s a principal.”

“Yeah, and he’s chill. He’s not going to care if you wear a tie or not, so pick one you like if you’re going to.”

Haru piped up from the couch. “Wear the crab tie! It’s the best one and also Mr. Kim likes crabs.”

Taehyung’s eyes crinkled as he grinned. “Okay, I’ll wear the crab tie.” He hung the two ties over his doorknob and headed into the kitchen. “I’ll set the table now, and then it will be all ready when you are,” he said as he passed by me.

“Thanks.” I glanced at the clock. Unless the chicken burned in the next half-hour, I could probably afford to go freshen up myself.

One roast chicken and one vigorous hairbrushing later, I opened the door to welcome Namjoon and his wife in. “Hi!” Ari said, giving me a giant hug. “How generous of you to open your home to us! I’m so happy to meet you. And this must be Haru!”

I shouldn’t have been surprised that Namjoon’s life partner was a warm, vibrant woman who looked like she belonged on a magazine cover, but her beauty did catch me off guard. I must have been remembering my own principal’s shriveled up wife. I stuttered, “Please make yourself at home.”

Namjoon shook hands with me jokingly. “And this is?” he asked, holding out his hand to Taehyung.

“Principal Kim, this is Taehyung,” I said. Taehyung carefully took Namjoon’s hand.

Namjoon’s eyes lit up. “Taehyung, that is a beautiful tie. Are you interested in art?”

I could see why Namjoon asked that. Taehyung’s crab tie wasn’t some kind of cartoon art, the way I’d assumed when Haru had asked for it. It had an abstract blue hermit crab shape formed by tiny geometric waves and looked remarkably like something from Namjoon’s overgrown office.

Haru chirped, “I helped him pick it!” at the same time Taehyung said, “Thank you.”

Namjoon chuckled. “Good job, Haru. But, seriously, that’s a really cool piece. Do you like art?”

“Ah. A little. I mostly just like to look at things that have fun colors or weird shapes, so it’s not like I know much about it.”

Namjoon nodded. “Just going with the vibe?”

“Yeah.” Taehyung ran his hand through his hair, looking at the floor.

“Vibing. I like it!” Namjoon shuffled closer to the couch. “Hey buddy. How’s the extra hardware treating you?”

“Do you want to see it? It’s so cool! Dr. Jaemin says I’m gonna have a scar and it’s gonna be so cool!”

Before I could stop him, Haru whipped off his blanket and revealed his leg brace. Three weeks in, the swelling had calmed down, but I still had to grit my teeth when I looked at the metal pins disappearing into my baby’s leg. I knew they were holding his bone apart, forcing it to grow to fill in the gap. Haru even said it didn’t hurt when we turned the struts every morning to keep those bone ends the right distance apart. Even so, the whole thing was hideous to me.

Not to Haru, though, and neither Namjoon nor Ari flinched. Ari bent over it, exclaiming. “This is pretty cool, Haru. How long do you get to wear it?”

“For six whole weeks! But I can’t walk on it. But then I get a cast, and then I can have crutches! And then I get the cast off and I can walk and then after a little more I can run again. Dr. Jaemin says when it’s a new year I’ll pretty much have a new leg.”

“That’s exciting! When are—”

Noise crashed down the outside hall. My apartment door flew open. Jungkook tumbled through, holding a pizza box. “Hey, I broke the oven again and— oh. Ooops, sorry!” He backed up and smacked into Hoseok.

Hoseok said “Ooof!” The pizza box flew up as both boys toppled to the ground, Hoseok unfortunately underneath Jungkook’s significant bulk. Hoseok said “Ooof!” again, a bit more emphatically. Jungkook screamed and reached out for the falling pizza box. It dropped into his arms. He cradled it protectively, sprawled on top of Hoseok and halfway inside my apartment.

I blinked. “Hi! Do you want to join us for supper?” I offered.

Jungkook was bright red. “Um, sorry. I didn’t know you were having company.”

“Obviously,” I snorted. “But you’re welcome to crash the party, such as it is. Pizza goes fine with chicken.”

Jungkook eyed Namjoon and Ari. “Is it the roast chicken soaked in gravy?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” He held out the pizza box to Taehyung and got up. I headed for the kitchen to see how many potatoes I’d put in to bake.

Hoseok wheezed from the floor, “Long time no see, Joonie.”

I stopped in the doorway. Jungkook froze. Taehyung held the pizza box, eyes darting between Namjoon and Hoseok. Ari’s mouth hung open.

Hoseok peeled himself off the floor and went over to Namjoon, wrapping him up in a huge hug complete with back slaps. “What a weird way to run into you again, bro! It’s been forever.”

“Hobi!” Namjoon returned the hug with enthusiasm. “How’ve you been, bro?”

“Good, good, you know. Started that little dance thing I was always rambling on about.”

“Yeah? Oh, that’s great, bro! I’m so proud. How’s it going?”

“Oh, you know. Honestly it’s a lot of work but it’s been great.”

Ari hesitantly touched Namjoon’s elbow to get his attention. “Honey, is this the Hobi?”

“Yeah! Hobi, meet my wife Ari. Ari, this is the man, the myth, the legend of Sigma Chi.”

Jungkook unfroze. He punched Hoseok in the arm. “You didn’t tell me you were part of a frat in university!”

“I don’t have to tell you everything.” Hoseok clutched his arm and sidled away from his roommate.

“Um, you kind of do have to tell me that!” Jungkook grabbed him. “Mister Joonie, sir, could you please tell me everything that Hobi ever did when you were in school together? You were in school together, right?”

Namjoon laughed. “Yeah, we were the same year and this guy was the funniest guy in the frat. University was crowded but he just has a way of standing out, you know? His name was an adverb for a while. Like, you’ve done Hobi or you’ve got Hobi as a way to say you’ve done well.” Namjoon shook his head. “It’s crazy that we haven’t stayed in touch. You really made those years better.”

“Same for you, bro.” Hoseok laughed at the face Namjoon pulled. “I mean it. This guy—” he yanked his thumb at Namjoon and spoke to the rest of us “—was top of the class every single year, of course, but also he’s really, really good at getting people to work together. It was crazy how many times we’d be at each other’s throats until he stepped in and said something simple and logical and we all calmed down.” Hoseok lightly punched Namjoon’s arm. “So, yeah. He's a special guy. But I expect you already know that.”

Jungkook squeezed himself between the two friends. “Yeah, yeah. You’re both great. I wanna know if the waterfall of Seoyong Hall was an actual thing that actually happened or if Hobi has been… expanding on the truth.” He glared at his roommate.

Namjoon laughed. “Oh, the waterfall was real! Man, I’d forgotten about that.”

I sidled up to Ari in utter confusion. She turned and whispered, “A prank went wrong and they broke the plumbing for the whole dorm.” I nodded, staring at the cluster of men. Ari chuckled. “Can I help you with anything in the kitchen? I think they’re going to be at it for a while.”

I glanced at Haru, whose eyes were huge, and at Taehyung, who looked as bewildered as I felt. I wasn’t sure if all of these stories were fit for six-year-old ears. “Hey, guys!” I interrupted. “I think we’re about ready to eat. Do you want to help Haru up to the table?”

“Oh, yeah, can do,” Hoseok said. He scooped Haru up without breaking the flow of the conversation. “Where do you go, little man?”

“Right next to Mr. Kim!”

“So tell me, Hobi. What’s it like when the dream comes true?” Namjoon asked as everyone filtered in to sit around the table.

Hoseok tucked Haru into a chair. “It’s great!” He slid into his own chair on the other side, and sighed. “Well, honestly, I’m having a little trouble at the moment with scheduling—don’t look like that JK, it’s not your fault—and I’m trying to find a manager to help with some of the administrative work. But most of my contacts are dancers, so it’s been a struggle.”

Namjoon settled next to Haru. “What about people from uni? We had a pretty good mix of majors in Sigma Chi. Like, I—” He broke off. “Ari, remember what Jackson said the other day?”

Ari nodded. “Yeah, Jackson was over the other day and he’s getting sick of his current job. He’s got the managerial experience you’re looking for.”

“But would he want to take a pay cut? I really doubt I can afford to pay him what he’s worth, or even what he’s getting now.”

Namjoon rested his chin on his hand. “I don’t know. It’s possible that a better work environment, better benefits, or even just better hours would make it worth it for him. Talk to him and see. You need his number?”

“That would be great!”

As I made space for the two roast chickens next to the pizza box, the hope in Hoseok’s eyes was almost blinding and Jungkook was looking at Namjoon like he was their personal savior.

“That was the best you’ve ever done,” Jungkook told me, pushing away his plate with a groan.

I laughed. “Glad you enjoyed it.” He’d eaten a good half of a chicken himself. I looked around. The dinner conversation had trickled down to gentle reminiscing and the empty dishes agreed with Jungkook that I’d done well.

I smiled in contentment. Taehyung caught my eyes across the table and I knew he felt it too. There was a peace in this kind of chaos, a deep solid feeling in my bones that these people were happy and this space was friendly. I gave Taehyung a little grin. Good food could do that.

Some of my guests were sitting on battered folding chairs, though, and now that the food was gone they were going to start to notice. I gestured at the living room. “Feel free to sit somewhere more comfortable, guys. I’ll just stick this stuff in the kitchen so it’s out of the way.”

“We can help,” Hoseok, Ari, and Namjoon chorused, but I waved them off.

“No, get Haru to a comfy spot and crack out a board game or something. It’ll only take a second.”

Namjoon turned to Taehyung. “Haru mentioned you have a lot of those ties. I don’t know if it’s a private thing, but I’d love to see your collection if you’re comfortable showing it off.”

 “Okay,” Taehyung said, grinning like a child. “I’ll be right back.”

By the time I was done in the kitchen, Haru was nestled in a corner of the couch next to Ari and Taehyung’s ties were spread around them like an explosion of confetti.

Haru poked through them. “Where’s the duck one?”

“Ah. I left that one behind for the together boys. They wanted something to remember me by, and that one was their favorite.”

“It was my favorite too!”

“Well, we’ll just have to visit them, then.” Taehyung smoothed Haru’s curls.

Haru turned to Ari and explained, full of enthusiasm, “When Mommy said friends were coming I thought it was my friends, but then it was Mr. Kim and you. I want my friends to come see my brace. But you’re nice too!”

Ari laughed. “Friends from school?”

“No, friends from the Foundation. Where we got Taehyung.”

Namjoon and Ari exchanged looks. Namjoon leaned forward slightly. “What are your friends like?”

Haru chattered away about the together boys. When he finally wound down, Namjoon smiled at him. “They sound very fun. Maybe we should pay the Foundation a visit ourselves.”

“Yeah! Do you have any kids? If you don’t have any kids they could be your kids. They said they’re going to be at the Foundation until somebody nice wants them for their kids and you’re nice.”

I winced. Longing flashed over Ari’s face, but she hid it quickly, and Namjoon tucked his arm around her. He said gravely, “They sound like they’re fun, Haru. Maybe you could introduce us.”

Taehyung’s eyes flicked warily between them. “Are you looking to adopt?” he asked quietly.

“We’re hoping to,” Namjoon answered.

“Do you care about the breed?”

“No.” Ari ran her hand over her face. “Maybe it’s not even a good idea, and feel free to tell us if it’s not, but… we’ve wanted kids for so long. Until Emma mentioned you to Namjoon we’d never even considered adopting. But it seems like we could do something about our lonely house, and we feel like we have to at least try.”

Taehyung reached out for me. I tucked into his side, letting him wrap his arms around my waist. “It’s not always easy,” Taehyung warned.

“I don’t care,” Ari said. Namjoon’s jaw was set, and he nodded.

The hesitant smile that grew over Taehyung’s face almost broke my heart. He glanced at me, eyes intent, and said, “I want everyone to have a home like I have now. Please let us introduce you to my friends at Beyond the Scene Foundation, and maybe you will also find someone special there.”

Ari clutched Namjoon’s hand. “It’s a date!”

Chapter Text

“Still!?” I huffed.

“Exactly, still,” Jungkook ordered. “You keep moving and I need absolute perfection for this shot.”

“When you asked to tag along for ‘reference material’ I assumed you’d be taking candids, Kook. This is getting ridiculous.”

“I got candids earlier. I have a very specific picture in my head and I need you to cooperate and look over there, like I told you.”

“I did that!”

“Look, the sooner you stop talking the sooner you’re done.”

“Fine.” I shut up and glared hard into the middle distance the way I’d been instructed. Jungkook tsked and the camera shutter clicked. He adjusted his position. Click click click. Around us, the Foundation hummed with life, little ones playing and the older folks talking with the families that had come to visit. Namjoon and Ari were supposed to get here in a few minutes.

Across the room Haru wheeled in, surrounded by his rambunctious friends. His brace was carefully propped up on the wheelchair support. He proudly gestured to it. The together boys were formed up around him like a bodyguard, nodding along and showing him off to everyone they could get attention from.

“Oooh, yeah. Just like that,” Jungkook said. Click.

I held still and watched my boy soaking up the spotlight. People swirled around him, and I spotted dark red hair in my periphery. Click. Taehyung slipped in from the library and took the wheelchair from Soobin, steering Haru carefully to the craft tables. Click click. Six little heads and one big one huddled together over a stack of cardstock. A glitter shaker loomed on the shelf behind them. I twitched.

“Kook, disaster is imminent. Am I done yet?”

“Oh, yeah. You can go,” Jungkook said absently.

When I unfroze he was staring at his camera display thumbing through the shots. “JK!” I said exasperatedly.

He waved me away. “I think I got it. I’m going to go pester Yoongi until Mr. Joonie gets here.”

“Your funeral.” I headed for my boys. “And his name is Namjoon, not Joonie.”

“Maybe to you.” Jungkook stuck his tongue out at me and disappeared up the stairs to the offices.

I’d seen Namjoon in a suit before. I hadn’t seen Ari all dressed up, though, and as they stood together looking in hesitantly from the doorway I was surprised the whole room didn’t turn to stare.

I waved them over to where I was sitting with Taehyung. “Ready to make a good first impression, I see.”

“Hoping to,” Ari said, hand tucked into the crook of Namjoon’s arm. The color of the nametags they’d been given by Foundation staff indicated they were interested in adopting.

Namjoon cleared his throat. “Is Haru around?”

“Yup, he ran off to the back with his friends to see something they’d made. I’ll go get him.”

As I moved Taehyung’s arm off my shoulder and got up from the couch, Jungkook thudded down the stairs with Yoongi hot on his heels. I blinked. “Are you getting kicked out finally, Kook?”

“Nope! Just had a brilliant idea! I need Taehyung.” Jungkook grabbed Taehyung and hauled him off the couch. “C’mon, we can see the sunset from Yoongi’s office window and the lighting’s perfect but it won’t be in five seconds.”

They disappeared back up the stairs in a clatter of footsteps. Yoongi looked over the new folks. “Friends of yours?” he asked me.

“Yes. I’m hoping Haru can introduce them to his little gang.”

Yoongi flicked his eyes over their nametags and stuck out his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ari, Joon. There should be plenty of folks around who can answer your questions if you need anything. Just look for the silver badges.”

“I appreciate that,” “Joon” said. He shook Yoongi’s hand. “By the way, I’m a huge fan of your work. What you’re doing is important and I hope you get someone to listen soon.”

Yoongi studied him. “Hmmm. You’ve researched us.” He shifted towards Ari. “I’m a huge fan of your work as well, ma’am. Interior design is a side interest of mine and Architectural Digest is lucky to have you as a contributor.”

Ari’s smile broke across her face like the tide at dawn. “I do love my job!”

“And what do you do?” Yoongi asked Namjoon.

“I’m an educator. Independent, and a little on the visionary side. I’m the principal at Moonchild Academy.”

Yoongi nodded. “Haru’s school. Well, it’s great to meet you both, and I hope you’ll be comfortable looking around and getting acquainted with some of our guests. I will warn you, though, Haru’s friends have formed a pretty tight bond.”

Biting her lip, Ari tucked her hair behind her ear. “They might not want to leave the Foundation?”

“No. They might not want to leave each other.”

Namjoon and Ari exchanged a glance. Yoongi sighed. “Look, they got the name ‘together boys’ because even when they’re fighting they’re doing it together. Children are relatively easy to place. These boys have been at the Foundation for this long because they want to stay together, and there aren’t a lot of families ready to take on five middle-school boys. You might have better success looking in the playroom.”

Namjoon looked at Ari. Ari furrowed her brow. “Thanks for the warning,” she said. “We came here to meet them, though, and we’d like to if that’s allowed.” Namjoon nodded.

“Of course. Just don’t be surprised if they’re a little defensive once they see the color of your nametag. They’ve had… unpleasant surprises before.” Yoongi gestured for me to lead the way, and with that ominous statement he vanished back up the stairs.

As we walked down the hall I double-checked. “I know Haru talked about his friends, but you don’t need to feel obligated to meet them first.”

Ari touched my elbow. “We want to.”

“Okay,” I said, and brought them to the “Top Seceret” hideout in the back of the building. I knocked on the door.

The giggling inside stopped. With a sudden flash, I was back at the night I’d first been at this door, the first time I’d seen Taehyung. The door opened and I blinked because there was no tall, breathtaking man stepping out.

Taehyun frowned up at me. “Haru’s mom? Is he in trouble?”

As familiar as that was, it snapped me back. “Hi Mommy!” Haru shouted from inside. “We’re not doing any glitter stuff! I’m looking at their pictures!”

“That’s good, baby,” I said, patting Taehyun reassuringly on the head and sticking my own head through the doorway. “Your other friends came and they want to say hi. Can they come in?”

Yeonjun looked me over. “Are they cool?”

“I think so? Maybe I should let them speak for themselves though.” I pulled my head out and gestured to Namjoon and Ari.

“Oh. They’re grownups.” Taehyun withdrew into the hideout. “They’ve got blue nametags, Hyuka.”

Hueningkai backed into the corner. Yeonjun and Beomgyu shifted in front of him so he was barely visible. Taehyun looked at Ari and said, “If you want a kid you should go to the nursery. Or the playroom." He started to pull the door shut.

"Wait!" Namjoon interjected. “Could we at least introduce ourselves?”

“No.” The door slammed.

Ari slumped. Namjoon took her hand, but he wasn’t doing much better. I looked at the door in chagrin. “Okay, give me a second,” I said. I knocked on the door. “Haru?”

After a muffled negotiation, it became clear that I could get my son back but I could not get any of the other boys to come out. I sighed. Ari and Namjoon stood behind me, wilted like month-old celery. I stared at the door and then blinked. “Hang on, I’ll be right back,” I said, and I tore back towards the main area to find Taehyung.

The hideout swallowed Taehyung for almost an hour. Namjoon sat on the floor across from me stubbornly, Ari curled into his side. When the door finally opened again, Taehyung’s face was weary, and his eyes were suspiciously red as he came out and shut the door to a crack behind him. He folded onto the floor next to me.

“So…” he said.

Namjoon clenched and unclenched his hand. “So?”

Taehyung sighed heavily. He scooted closer to me and scrunched up until his head rested on my shoulder. I tucked my arm around him, and he sighed again, nestled into me. He spoke to Namjoon. “I tried. But if you’re not willing to offer a home to all five they don’t want to even meet.” He flicked his attention to Ari. “Are you ready to take five boys? Because that’s the line they’ve drawn.”

Although Ari was not a big woman, with her jaw clenched she was almost as intimidating as her husband. “We want all five.”

“Are you sure?”

“Taehyung, I grew up in a family of ten. I know how much work it can be. We might have seemed hesitant, and I guess we still are in some ways, because adopting is brand new to us. But I’m not walking away from those boys. It’s all five or it’s no one.”

Taehyung looked at Namjoon.

“I want them, if they’ll have us.”

“Okay.” Taehyung started to gather himself up, getting ready to go back. “Okay.”

The door squeaked. We all swung to look at the slowly widening crack. Several pairs of furry ears disappeared in a hurry, and the motion sent the door flying all the way open.

Taehyung settled back against me. “Boys,” he called. “Come on out.” His voice rumbled.

Soobin peeked around the corner. His ears were gone, and when he saw us staring he shrunk in on himself and yanked Taehyun out alongside him. Hands stuck deep in his pockets, Taehyun swaggered forward. I’d have believed his casual air if there weren’t tear streaks down his face.

Beomgyu followed Soobin, and Yeonjun shepherded Hueningkai protectively when they finally emerged. Haru wheeled himself out last. “Hi,” my baby said to his principal, but the normal bounce was missing. Whatever they’d talked about in there had hit him hard.

“Okay,” Soobin said once all the boys were out in the hallway. “We’ll talk. But we have some conditions.”

It was almost funny how quickly Namjoon relaxed at the mention of rules. “Of course. That’s perfectly understandable.”

Ari rose from the floor, hands outstretched. “I’m happy to abide by each and every one of your rules, Soobin. First, though, it feels weird that I know your names and you don’t know mine. I’m Ari. This is Namjoon.”

Soobin shook her hand politely but backed into the pack right afterward. “You know our names?”

“Yes. Oh, yes,” Ari exclaimed. “Haru told us a little about you, and we got to see pictures of you on the Foundation website and talk to some staff over the phone too.” She was trembling a little in her earnestness.

 “We came here for you,” Namjoon told the together boys. He unfolded himself and from his significant height he said again, “We really, really wanted to meet you. So why don’t we sit down and you can see if you like us once you know us a little.”

The five boys went into a huddle. Whispers flew. Finally, with their hands locked together, they turned and faced the couple. It was Hueningkai who gave the verdict.

“Okay,” he said shakily. “Let’s see if you’re nice.”

The bus ride home was quiet. Taehyung wouldn’t let go of my hand, and Haru’s chatter came in fits and starts instead of its usual stream. I rested my hand on Haru’s hair, responding to his occasional questions.

When we got home and Haru’s wheelchair was hauled safely up into the apartment, I put the kettle on for tea. “Hot chocolate, baby?” I asked my boy. He nodded. I set out the things and went back to the living room to settle next to him on the couch. I carded my fingers through his hair. “What happened, sweetheart?”

Haru’s eyes welled up. He started, but the words got all mixed up, and he bit his lip and shook his head.

Taehyung wiggled himself into the space between me and the armrest. To fit, he had to practically slide me on his lap. I took one look at his face and decided now was not the time to talk about boundaries. Slinging my arm across his shoulders, I ran my fingers through his hair as well.

“Hyuka has scars, Em,” he said quietly.

Haru sniffed. “Not cool scars, like mine.”

“Oh, baby.” I cradled my boy and pulled Taehyung’s head down to rest on my shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

Taehyung wasn’t exactly crying, but his voice was rough. “The other boys didn’t show them but they might have some too, littler maybe. It takes a lot to hurt a hybrid, Emma. You kind of have to do it on purpose.”

“Oh. That’s… oh.” I pet their heads gently, hoping it would help. I didn’t know what else to do. My own eyes were burning.

Haru’s little face turned up to mine. “Mr. Kim is going to take care of them,” he said fiercely. “He’s going to fix it. Right, Mommy?”

“If they let him, baby. Mr. Kim and Ari are pretty smart. They’ll do everything they can.”

Haru nodded. “Um, can I ask something else?”

“What is it?”

“Not you, Mommy. Taehyung.”

Taehyung shifted. “Yes?”

“Did people hurt you, too?” Haru choked. “Do people hurt hybrids?”

Taehyung stiffened. For a long second the only sound was my baby’s sobs and the clock ticking above the kitchen table. Taehyung drew in a breath. He reached around me and cupped Haru’s chin.

“Haru, baby. There are some bad people in the world, and some of them hurt hybrids. But I’m here now. I’m okay because I’m with you.” Taehyung swiped at Haru’s cheeks with his thumb. “So don’t cry, buddy. I know you’re going to take good care of me.”

Haru clung to Taehyung. Squished in the middle, I could only hold on and wait for the kettle to boil and give us some much-needed comfort.

After Haru was thoroughly cocoa’d and tucked into bed, I went back out into the kitchen to clean up and instantly got a Taehyung glommed onto me. He hugged me from behind as I washed out the cups. “How’s it going?” I asked.

“Mmmphf,” he said, scrunching his face into the crook of my neck.

It tickled and I really wasn’t ready for the wave of heat that swept over me, but that wasn’t the point, and I suppressed my shiver. “A hard day.”

“Yeah.”

I dried my hands. Turning around, I put my arms around his neck and pulled him down into a proper hug. “Did it bring back bad memories?” I asked softly.

“Some. Just— it’s okay when it’s me, you know? I can handle it. But they’re just kids, Emma. They’re babies. And… and it’s not okay.”

I rubbed his back. “No.”

“Did I say the right thing to Haru?”

“Yeah. We have to be honest with him.” I held him close, debating whether I needed to say anything else. “And, Tae, it’s not okay when it’s you, either.”

He pulled back enough to look at me.

“If I ever get my hands on the people who put that collar mark around your neck I’m— it’s on sight. What happened to you is not okay. But you were right. You’re here now and that’s what matters.”

He nodded slowly. “Can you stay with me? For a little bit?” he whispered. “I don’t know if I can sleep all alone right now.”

“Yeah. Come on, let’s put on a movie or something.”

He fell asleep halfway through Howl’s Moving Castle. I muted the movie and watched the colors flicker across his face. They made him look like a painting, perfect and unreachable. I didn’t notice when my eyelids started drifting closed.

Chapter Text

“Got the crutches?” I asked Jin.

He waved them at me, almost knocking them into the bookcase. “Got eyes, Emma? Of course I’ve got the crutches.”

“Watch where you gesticulate or I won’t have walls, Jin.”

Taehyung lifted Haru piggyback, and we started for the apartment steps. “Is Uncle Yoongi going to be there?” Haru asked me. “And Uncle Jimin?”

“I don’t know, baby. I hope so.”

“They’ve got to come! Uncle Jay’s pictures are the best pictures in the whole world.”

Jungkook’s favorite coffee shop was a whole new space when we got there. The dark walls had much more art on them than usual, and partitions had been set up for even more paintings to hang on. Some sculpture pieces stood free in the spaces between. People of all ages swirled around, looking at the displays and chattering to the artists, and I couldn’t see Jungkook anywhere.

Haru hopped. It was hard to do on crutches, but he’d perfected the skill. “Where’s Uncle Jay? I wanna see his pictures! He painted me, Mommy, did you know that?”

“I do know that, baby. You’ve told me so many times this week.”

“Well he did!” Haru swung himself fearlessly into the crowd. “It’s gonna be soo cool!”

I plunged after him. We hadn’t brought the wheelchair because it was hard to get on the bus, but this was only Haru’s first week on crutches, and I didn’t want him getting knocked into. People were mostly polite enough to make room for him, though. We followed him through the mayhem to the back wall.

“Uncle Jimin!” Haru yelled.

Jimin turned from a conversation with Yoongi, and the frown lines between his eyes melted away. “Hey, buddy!” Haru barreled into him and Jimin scooped him up.

I quickly grabbed for the crutches. “Hey. Is Jungkook around?”

Yoongi’s lips curled in amusement. “You could say that.” He pointed to a corner where, despite the amount of people in this space, there was a little privacy. I could see Jungkook’s dark hair next to a girl. Ah. Right. The elusive “not-girlfriend.”

Hoseok jittered halfway between them and Jungkook’s art display. I waved to catch his eye, and he came over. “It seems like it’s going well,” he said, biting his lip.

I laughed. “Hobi, he’s a big boy. He’s going to be fine.” I looked around. “Are Namjoon and Ari here yet?”

“Oh, are they coming?”

“Yeah, Haru wanted his friends to see the picture JK drew of him.”

“So they’re official now? Adopted and everything?”

I tilted my head. “I’ll let Namjoon do the explaining on that one. The together boys haven’t moved in yet but they’re working toward it, when the boys are ready.”

Hoseok nodded. He’d gotten bits and pieces and was smart enough to fill in the rest.

Yoongi put in, “I haven’t seen them yet, but I’ll send them your way when I do.” He was leaning against the wall, clearly not interested in moving. Jin joined him.

Haru and Jimin were already halfway down the corridor that had been assigned to Jungkook’s pieces. Haru’s happy chatter drifted back to us. I grinned at Hoseok. “I was hoping to get a tour from the artist himself, but it looks like he’s busy, so would you show us around?”

Hoseok waved us into the aisle. “This way we can skip the one he did of me that is very thoroughly cursed.”

“Now I want to see that one specially,” Taehyung said.

Hoseok sighed. “Why does everybody say that?”

Somehow Hoseok and Taehyung ended up slightly ahead of me on the tour. I wandered through the exhibit, giving each new thing my full attention as I came to it. Jungkook had made a lot of pieces in the two months since he’d gone part-time at Hope on the Street.

Most of his art was landscape-based, but there were occasional portraits, and a few reoccurring cameos of one face which I recognized as the girl Jungkook was still talking to in the corner. He’d dabbled in mixed media for Hoseok’s portrait. Although I wouldn’t call it cursed, per se, a magazine photo of a squirrel superseded part of Hoseok’s face, and I knew Jungkook well enough to know the implications were on purpose.

Jungkook’s picture of Haru was big, done in acrylic on canvas, all bright colors and bold lines. Haru’s laughter practically spilled out into the air from the flat surface. I looked at it. Jungkook understood my boy. He couldn’t have painted this otherwise. I blinked rapidly and shuffled away before my gratitude could do something stupid like make me cry.

The next picture was much simpler. It was a tiny oil painting of a pair of eyes, shining with absolute radiance out at the viewer. Somehow Jungkook had been able to paint eyes so full of love on just a hand-sized canvas. It was really impressive.

 I looked it over, then saw the card and photographs spread out that explained the process he’d gone through to make this piece. I leaned in to look at the reference photos and—wait a minute.

That was me. These photos were all of me. I recognized the photos from that night he’d tagged along to the Foundation. He’d taken them and made a tiny little painting of my eyes.

I stood back and looked at the painting again. Yeah, those were my eyes, all right. The expression wasn’t mine, though. I didn’t look at anyone like that.

I peered at the reference photos again. Jungkook had put up a sequence taken all in a burst. Me looking stiff, me trying to smile, me looking at someone outside the frame with the basic smile still plastered on. And then suddenly I was smiling for real, some micro change in my expression lighting me up from the inside, turning my eyes into those fool’s eyes I saw looking back from the canvas.

The process notes went on, but I went back to the card with the title. He’d called this one “Mother and Son.” That made sense. I had been looking at Haru while he was taking those. It would be an explanation for my besotted expression.

I scowled at the painting, walking further down the aisle. Every time I tried to look at the art, though, those pictures kept floating in front of the pieces on the wall. Finally I huffed. Why was this painting bothering me so much? I’d given Jungkook permission to paint me if he wanted, so long as it wasn’t inappropriate.

Maybe it was just because I didn’t like my emotions being broadcast like that. The painting wasn’t exactly subtle. Yeah. That was probably it.

I shook my head to get rid of the whole thing and set off towards the rest of the group. Haru’s chatter was coming from another artist’s section by this point. I hadn’t seen the label, but whoever this person was, they apparently specialized in found object art. I stopped in front of a wacky sculpture-like thing that took up almost the whole wall when I noticed the mirror embedded in the center.

See? That was what I was used to. Those quiet eyes watching me back, waiting to see what I would do before they made any move. That’s what should have been on Jungkook’s wall.

“Hi.” Taehyung’s arm slipped around my waist and there he was, perfect face apparating next to mine in the mirror. “Did you get lost?”

I couldn’t breathe. Those eyes. They were back.

The eyes on Jungkook’s canvas were looking out at me from the mirror and I was breaking apart and falling, silently and without warning, into the depths of sudden understanding.

Hoseok slid his phone back into his pocket with a grimace. “Well, you will all be happy to know that Kook has dipped on us.” He turned to me. “Still want to get ice cream?”

The together boys and Haru answered for me. “Yes!”

The nearest ice cream place had a pretty narrow selection, but Haru still marked down number three of his five Best Uncle ice creams from Yoongi. Hoseok pleaded with him to reconsider. “I can be the best uncle ever, I promise, just give me a chance to fight for it!” In his passion, Hoseok ignored his cone dripping all over the table. Jin silently nudged the cone over a stack of napkins.

“Sorry, Uncle Hobi. You can’t beat ice cream,” Haru said firmly. Yoongi nodded.

Namjoon’s small circus finally got through the line and ran over to us as their guardians went to the checkout. The together boys squeezed around Haru and in between Yoongi, Jimin, and Taehyung at the two tables we’d slid together so far. Beomgyu licked his cone. “So Mr. Jungkook has a girlfriend now?”

“Yup,” Hoseok said, wrinkling his nose. “Took him long enough.”

Yoongi pointed his spoon at Hoseok. “You don’t get to be mean about it. You’ve been giddy all night.”

“Well, yeah. He’s liked her forever and I think they’re perfect for each other.”

Haru was almost done with his ice cream. “Why did it take Uncle Jay so long to get a girlfriend if he liked her already?”

“Well…” Hoseok blew out a puff of air. “It just… did.” He looked around the group for help.

Jimin licked some chocolate sauce off his lips. “Sometimes when you really like someone it’s hard to tell them that.”

“But why?” Haru crunched his cone.

“There can be a lot of reasons. Maybe you don’t know if they like you too, maybe you don’t want to ruin being friends. Most of the time people are afraid because they don’t know what will happen.”

Soobin nodded sagely. “New stuff can be really scary,” he told Haru, and scooted over to make room for Namjoon and for Ari as they came over.

Ari looked around the group. “But sometimes new stuff can be good?” she said uncertainly.

“Yeah, sometimes,” Yeonjun agreed. Hueningkai was already clambering over her to sit in between his guardians. Namjoon put an arm around him and nibbled on his pistachio cone. Ari rested one hand on Beomgyu’s shoulder and dug into a huge banana split with the other.

The table got rowdier as people finished off their treats. I gave Taehyung the rest of my sherbet and blinked hard at the bright overhead lights as if they could somehow drown out Jimin’s soft voice looping through my mind. What will happen?

He was right. I didn’t know.

I kept probing at my heart, the way I would with a loose tooth, waiting to be overwhelmed with the panic I knew was logical.

My heart kept beating steadily in my chest as if nothing had changed.

Chapter Text

Me: bring eggs

Jin: ????

Me: if you’re inviting yourself over again tonight be useful and bring eggs

Jin: I’m not coming over

Me: Oh, wow. You finally got a life?

Jin: for your information, I’ve always had one. I’m going drinking w Yoongi tonight.

Me: …

Me: bring eggs and Yoongi

Jin: no

“Told you,” I said, accepting the carton of eggs shoved at me. “Dinner’s ready in fifteen.”

Jin stuck his tongue out at me, because he was a sore loser, and stomped back the hall to Haru’s room to stir up trouble. Yoongi shrugged his jacket off. “He’ll get over it.”

“I know. He’s being petty. How’d he convince you to come?”

“He didn’t.” Yoongi turned to look at the dumplings lined up for the steamer. “They did.”

“Ah. Well, let me just—” and I slid back in front of the stove.

Yoongi got comfy on the couch (a process which involved multiple pillows and a great deal of lounging) and turned on some music. His taste tended to hard-hitting rap and hip-hop, but he’d picked some softer beats today. I found myself unconsciously slipping dumplings in and out of the steamer in time with the music.

Giggles exploded from Haru’s room. I sighed. When Jin laughed like that it meant he’d found a new way to torment me. I brought the platter out to the table and hollered, “Come and get it!”

Crutches thumped. My baby swung down the hall already wearing his pajamas. Jin came after him, also wearing Haru’s pajamas. They’d buttoned three of Haru’s sleep shirts together and the franken-jama fit around Jin’s middle over his normal shirt like a bizarre corset. “Look, Mommy!” Haru beamed. “All cozy!”

“Oh, I’m looking,” I said. “Jin, Taehyung has a matching dinosaur set if you wanted pajamas that much.”

“As if they would have fit. That kid is a string bean.” Jin flexed like a strong man. Haru’s buttons strained.

“Would’ve fit better than that,” Yoongi said, finding his chair. “Watch it or you’re going to have to figure out how to thread a needle without swearing.”

Haru’s ears perked up. “You can swear?” he asked incredulously. “I don’t think you can because you always say ‘gee whilikers’ which is an old person word but not a swear.”

“I don’t swear around you because I’m the best uncle,” Jin said quickly, sitting down.

“You can sew?” I asked incredulously, loading Yoongi’s plate.

“Sort of. Yoongi tried to teach me to put buttons back on in college but mostly he did the sewing and I did the swearing.” Jin took Haru’s plate and piled it up with salad. “But I don’t swear here, again, because I’m the best uncle.”

Yoongi added some fried rice to Haru’s plate. “Enjoy that title while you can. You’re one ice cream away from losing it.”

Jin whined about the unfair ice cream rule while the plates were passed. I’d just finished filling the fifth plate when the door swung open.

“You’re back!” Haru couldn’t fling himself out of his seat like normal, but he held his arms open for a hug.

Taehyung shuffled off his shoes and hung up his coat and his bag next to the door. “Hi!” he said. He came over and gave Haru his hug, then put his hand on my shoulder. “Sorry I’m late. I started talking to Mrs. Bang and forgot you were waiting on me for dinner.”

I patted his hand. “Nope, you’re just in time. Go wash your hands and we’re ready to start when you’re done.”

Taehyung hurriedly washed up and slid into his seat. I quietly snuck the last dumpling onto his plate. If the room seemed a little warmer now that he’d come home, that was nobody’s business but my own.

“I’ll help,” Yoongi said.

I squinted at him over the stack of plates in my arms. “Or you could go keep Jin out of mischief.”

He snorted. “I cannot do that.” He loaded up his own arms with cups and shuffled behind me towards the sink. “And Tae just came back from work so he should take a break.” He said the last bit over his shoulder pointedly to a hovering Taehyung. Taehyung frowned, but shrugged and headed for the couch.

I ran hot water. Glancing through the pass-through above the sink, I could see my baby’s curly head bobbing up and down as he enthusiastically set out pieces for a round of battleship on the now cleared table. Jin wandered back sans pajamas to take the opposite chair.

Battleship got loud as Haru told Jin about all of his adventures at school and Jin blustered about cheating. In silence I scrubbed dishes and handed them over to Yoongi to be rinsed. We were almost done when he muttered something under his breath.

“Huh?” I said.

He looked around and muttered it again. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, sure. You’re always welcome here.”

“Not for that. Although dinner was good.”

I pulled the plug from the sink and let the water drain. “Okay.” I dried my hands and turned to face him. “Then?”

Yoongi looked at Jin through the pass-through. “You’re good for him.”

“If you say so. I feed him when he shows up and I tell him his jokes are bad.”

“Yeah.” Yoongi snorted. “Jin…” He leaned on the counter. “He lives aimlessly. It’s not like he’s bad at making friends, he just doesn’t do it. And then he gets isolated and there’s no one to yank him out of his bad habits. He’s doing better, now.”

“Well, lab partners have to stick together.”

“Hmmm. My point is, he’s taking care of himself more. Because of you. And because of Hobi and Jungkook and the people he’s met through you. He’s got something to care about and so he’s a little less absentminded about himself. So thank you.”

I crinkled my nose. “Well, he’s done a lot to make sure I’m taken care of at work. No matter how many dumplings I make I’m always going to be in his debt.”

“Not the way I see it.” Yoongi stared at me. “In university I figured out pretty quickly that part of having Jin as a roommate meant forcing him to be around people a couple of times a week. He hated it. And then he was part of like, three clubs on campus and was doing part-time modeling and my work was done. I guess he lost touch with all those people. Before you came along it was back to just me. He’d come over and we’d go drinking two, three nights a week.”

Yoongi straightened up. “Wasn’t good for either of us. So, yeah. Maybe you don’t see it. But him helping you does more for him than it does for you.” Yoongi turned to leave the kitchen.

Taehyung had snuck up while neither of us were paying attention and was leaning against the doorway. He didn’t say anything as Yoongi brushed by him, just looked pointedly at me. I flushed and turned around to wipe the counters.

“How was work today?” I asked.

“Pretty good. A lot of people wanted mouthwash for some reason. Mr. Bang has to order more.”

“Anything unusual?”

Taehyung hummed. “Not really. Just ordinary people and one person with a dog. The dog was nice.”

I was finished with the counters. I folded up the dish cloth and hung it to dry. “Well, sometimes boring is good too.”

“Yeah. Emma?”

He was waiting for my full attention. I braced myself. “Yeah?”

He took a long envelope out of his pocket. “Friday is payday.” He handed it to me.

I couldn’t help the grin that came over me. “Woah, Tae. Your first paycheck!” I weighed the envelope in my palm. “That’s exciting.” I handed it back.

He looked at me in confusion. “It’s for you,” he said, trying to give it to me.

I backed away, raising my hands. “No. I’m not taking it. That’s your money, Taehyung, and I’m absolutely not taking your first paycheck.” I frowned. “Or any of your paychecks.”

Taehyung looked me over and put the paycheck back in his pocket. “Okay,” he said with a wink. He went back out to the living room.

What?

That was too easy. I followed him out of the kitchen feeling like I had landed two steps down when I’d only taken one. If part of that feeling was because he’d winked at me so confidently, that was no one’s business but my own.

“So you send letters all day?” Haru wrinkled his nose at the idea. “Uncle Yoongi, you need a better job.”

Yoongi chuckled. “But they’re very important letters. They might even get all the way to the president someday.”

“Wait, you can send letters to the president?”

“Yeah.”

“Can I send her a letter?”

“Technically, yes.”

“Woah. Cool! The next time we practice letters in school I’m going to write mine to her instead of pretending to write to my dad.”

Silence fell. I stirred. “It’s the president, though. What would you even tell her?”

“What I usually write. Cool stuff, like about how pterodactyls aren’t even dinosaurs, and stuff that happens, like how I get my cast off in four weeks. And I could tell her about you and about Taehyung since she doesn’t know you.”

I shared a smile with the other adults. “You write that letter, baby. It sounds amazing.”

“Actually…” Yoongi tilted back in his rocking chair. “There might be a time when we’ll all want to write letters to the president about Taehyung. Right now, though, I’m writing letters to our assemblyman presenting my case. Petitions have to be really big before they’re useful.”

Haru nodded solemnly. “Can I write to our assemblyman?”

I looked at him. “Why would you?”

“I don’t know. Can I?” He considered. “What’s an assemblyman?”

I tried not to laugh, I really did. Jin’s squeaking laugh set me off, though, and it was all I could do to muffle my guffaw. Next to me Taehyung hid his grin behind his hand.

Yoongi somehow remained unbothered. “An assemblyman is someone who we’ve voted to be in the National Assembly. You know how there’s the president? Well, one person can’t do everything. So there’s a big group of people that decide how Masria should be, and one of the things they do is make laws. That big group of people is called the National Assembly and anybody who’s in it is called an assemblyperson.”

“You should be an assemblyperson, then. It’s way better than making letters every day,” Haru said decisively.

Even Yoongi cracked a smile at that. “Assemblypeople spend almost a lot of their day reading people’s letters and writing back. They make even more letters than I do.”

“Why are there so many letters?”

“Because people like me write to the assembly and ask them to change laws.”

“Oh.” Haru picked at his nail. “Why do you want to change laws?”

“Ah. Because there’s a law that’s not fair to Taehyung. I want to change it so all hybrids are allowed to do the things I can do.”

We weren’t laughing anymore. The warm lamplight fell over my baby’s round cheeks as he thought. Haru nodded. “Then they should fix that law. Then people won’t hurt hybrids anymore, right? Yeah. They should fix it.” He got up and headed back the hall on his crutches.

I looked after him. After a minute I said, “Do I…” and waved at the hallway.

Jin shrugged. Taehyung said quietly, “Give him a minute, maybe.”

Clattering came from the hall. Haru reappeared with a paper in his hand and, swinging to the rocking chair, presented it to Yoongi. “Here.”

We looked at it. Haru explained, “Put this in your letter. Pictures are cooler than words.”

It was a picture Haru had drawn of three people inside a rocket. The two big people, one with long hair and one with a tail, were holding hands while the little person with the cast had the rocket’s steering wheel. He’d painstakingly written “My Best Family” as a title and signed his name like Jungkook had taught him.

Yoongi gravely accepted the paper. “I promise I’ll send it.”

Strong fingers threaded their way through mine as Haru made his way back to the couch and snuggled into me. If Taehyung’s hand was a perfect fit, that was no one’s business but my own.

I was almost ready for bed when my phone buzzed.

That Kid: working on the big canvas im doing for taehyung’s portrait

That Kid: what earring looks better

That Kid: amazon_drop-pearl-earring-formal-real-silver

That Kid: amazon_cool-green-twist-earring-hypoallergenic-real-gem

Me: No idea, what’s the rest of the painting like?

That Kid: hehe you asked

That Kid: here’s a snap: attch_1390u0_uou19u.jpg

That Kid: emma

That Kid: emma?

That Kid: hello???

That Kid: he’s pretty but you can still reply you know

Me: green one

If I saved the snapshot of the half-finished canvas, Taehyung’s gaze sultry in golden brushstrokes, that was no one’s business but my own.

Chapter Text

Haru wouldn’t sit still long enough for me to comb his hair. “Mommy, we’re going to be late!” he pleaded, twisting out from under my hands. “We can’t be late!”

I made one final swipe at his curls with my comb. “Okay, baby. Remember that we’re picking up flowers on the way, so we already have plenty of extra time.”

“Why are we getting flowers?”

“Because… huh. That’s a good question, Haru. It’s kind of a tradition that when someone performs you bring them a bouquet, but I don’t know why that is. It’s just a way to congratulate them.”

“Oh. Well, we should get cool ones then, because their dancing is so cool.”

I laughed. “I’ll let you help pick.”

Taehyung held a spray of baby’s breath in front of his face. I looked away. The late afternoon sunlight turned this corner of the tiny florist’s shop into a perfect summer bower, but we did need to keep moving. I gently touched an orchid. “Maybe one of these for Hobi?”

Haru studied it. “It’s a crazy flower. But I don’t like pink.”

“Here’s an orange one,” Taehyung said, leaning over me to point it out.

“That’s perfect!” Haru broke into a giant smile. “It looks exactly like him.”

I looked at him. “It does?”

“Yeah!”

“Well, okay then. We’ll get orange orchids for Hobi. What do you want to get Jungkook?”

“For Uncle Jay we should get something that is also cool.” Haru moved down the stand and stopped in front of some striking black lilies. “Like these.”

I tilted my head. “I don’t know if it’s appropriate to give a black flower, baby. Sometimes black is considered bad luck.”

“Well, let’s give him some purple ones too. Then it won’t be, and it will look so pretty!”

Haru was pointing at a slightly bigger lavender ruffled lily that had caught my eye as soon as I walked in. He was right, it would be an amazing combination. “That’s a good idea! Let me ask them really quickly if they can make one with both of these.” I patted Haru’s shoulder and headed for the counter.

When I got back, with the older gentleman behind the counter cutting stems for Hoseok’s bouquet, Haru was arguing with Taehyung. “But roses are boring!” Haru said in a piercing whisper. “Look at all these flowers. There’s so many prettier ones.”

“They’ll make the two bouquets like you want,” I interjected. “So don’t worry about the roses, baby.”

The two of them jumped a little. “Ah, but Jimin is dancing too, right?” Taehyung said, turning away from the massive bucket of red roses in the corner.

I winced. “Oh, I totally forgot. Of course we should get him one. If you want roses, maybe these stripy yellow ones?”

I carried the three bouquets carefully while Taehyung piggy-backed Haru over to the curb. Jin pulled up only a few minutes late. “Hop in,” he said, slapping the roof through his rolled-down window.

Yoongi frowned from the passenger side. “Are you going to fit with all the flowers?”

I looked in the back of Jin’s tiny car and saw a seat full of color. They’d gotten bouquets too. I laughed. “I mean, I think so. We’ll put them on our laps.”

As I maneuvered Haru and his crutches into the backseat and started handing him flowers, Taehyung cleared his throat. “I forgot something. I’ll be right back.” He ran towards the florist.

By the time we were all packed in he was back, slipping into his seat and taking half of my lap-full of flowers for himself as I clicked my seatbelt into place. I turned to him distractedly. “Buckled?”

“Yeah. I’m ready now.”

Jin snorted from the driver’s seat. “Buckled? What, you don’t trust my driving?”

“It’s the law,” I said flatly. I waited until he pulled away from the curb. “And I don’t trust your driving.”

“Hey!”

A guitar strum blasted from the speakers and the lights dimmed. Haru wiggled in excitement next to me. “Mommy, Mommy, look!” People around us whispered in anticipation. I was glad we’d saved a seat for Namjoon. It wasn’t a small stage hall and it was full.

The lights slowly faded back in on the stage, and the youngest students began a simple group reel. One little guy in suspenders stepped forward and did a neat somersault. The audience cheered.

Blue lights strobed in from the sides, and the music dropped to a low growl. Bodies came flying in from the wings. I looked at my program. Oh. The opening was actually a group number. Maybe I’d catch a glimpse of someone I knew.

It was controlled chaos as the little dancers kept on with their reel in a neat formation and the older dancers wove around and among them, doing flips and skating across the stage on individual trajectories. I thought that might have been Jungkook in the back corner, lifting a smaller dancer into the air. I had no idea what Jimin danced like and couldn’t seem to find him.

The lights went red. The dancers split down the middle of the stage. The spotlights dimmed and the music faded into one simple note.

Backlit, the trim silhouette of a man appeared. There was no beat to the music but he danced anyway. Arms flung, brought in, a flying jump that ended with a shaking, popping transition into a bow.

I didn’t need the lights to come up to know it was Hoseok. He looked very handsome in his red bow tie and dark suit as he stepped forward into the spotlight. He took a microphone from his pocket and, with a brilliant smile, welcomed us to his studio’s showcase. He bowed again. The dancers behind him filtered off the stage and the lights went out.

Namjoon slipped into the seat next to me. I slid him a program. “They’ve just done the opening.”

“Okay, good. I’m not that late. Is Jackson dancing tonight?”

I looked over the program. “I didn’t see his name, so I guess he’s just doing behind-the-scenes today. Hobi keeps talking about having him feature soon, though.”

Namjoon nodded. “He was really happy to get the job.”

“Well, Hobi was really happy to have someone who’d take a pay cut in exchange for access to the studio and such. I’m glad you connected them.”

Namjoon shrugged, about to say something else, but the lights came back on and we turned our attention to the stage.

The first bit was some of the younger students. Suspender boy was back with a flashy hip-hop number, three girls did a cute sleepwalking routine, and a boy and girl pair danced together to an old folk ballad. I didn’t know much about dance but they seemed pretty competent for their ages.

In between numbers I glanced at my program. Jimin’s name was listed right before intermission. I winced again. I really shouldn’t have forgotten his flowers, and for some reason I hadn’t been able to spot him yet. I leaned forward. I needed to redeem myself by watching his solo closely.

I didn’t need to worry. No one could take their eyes off Jimin when his stage finally came.

Dressed in a loose white shirt and with only a simple spotlight, he started his performance quietly standing facing the audience. Whispers died down. People knew him, apparently.

From dead silence a single violin swelled up and Jimin’s arms floated up in response. The spotlight picked him out against the dark curtains.

As the haunting melody of his backing track began, Jimin sketched out the notes in the air. His body rose and fell as if controlled by the invisible violins. Effortless leaps took him to every corner of stage, and his loose shirt whirled around him like it was rebelling against gravity. With every gesture he drew us in and held us enthralled.

His movement was painful and exquisite and ethereal and he was a distant speck of light whirling through a sea of emotion. When the music faded he vanished without even a goodbye.

I finally took in a breath. “Wow,” I said quietly to myself. Taehyung hummed beside me. Haru sat still in his seat, all the wiggles shocked right out of him. “I guess that’s why Jungkook said Jimin’s in a class of his own,” I murmured. The others nodded. As the lights came up for intermission it took a minute before the audience adjusted and the auditorium got loud.

Haru tapped my arm. “I need to go potty,” he said.

“Ok, baby.” I started to get up.

“I’ll go with you,” Taehyung said, and before I could say anything they were both out in the aisle. Haru was wiggling again. I waved at them to go without me. If my boy was dancing around that much he probably needed to hurry.

I settled back in my seat and clutched the yellow roses Taehyung had handed over. After a performance like that, I wished they were solid gold.

Chapter Text

Haru and Taehyung weren’t back from the bathroom when intermission was over. Jin patted my hand. “Hey, Taehyung’s got it. Just enjoy the show.”

Jin was right. I tried to settle into my seat.

A few more numbers went by. Everyone was talented, and everything was pretty and done well, but I wasn’t really able to concentrate when I was worried about my baby. Eventually I leaned over and tapped Jin. “I’m going to go check,” I whispered.

He frowned at me. “Jungkook’s up next. He’ll never forgive you if you miss it.”

“My son is more important than—”

“Just let Taehyung take care of it, Emma. He’ll come get you if something is wrong, and you know that. Relax.” Jin pushed me back into my seat.

My knee jittered. I held my purse in my lap, ready to go as soon as Jungkook’s solo was over. Lights came onto the stage and I rolled my eyes. Of course he’d gone with red. I just hoped he wasn’t about to pretend to be sexy.

The red lights stayed up and the heavy beat of Jungkook’s backing track started. The stage was empty for an uncomfortable amount of time. Eventually something started rattling behind the curtain on one side.

When Jungkook finally appeared he lurched onto the stage in rags, dragging an ankle chain behind him that made a tremendous clatter. He made it almost to the center of the stage before tripping and falling to his knees. Angrily he shook the chain that stretched across the stage into the wing. In time with the beat he pushed himself up, tripped, rolled, pushed himself up, and tripped. Over and over again he tried to escape the chain, struggling against it furiously. The ground always claimed him.

Eventually he fell, hard enough that everyone winced, and with a show of petulance rolled onto his back, laying himself out as the perfect picture of defeat. The music pounded insistently overhead. He didn’t move.

A pure white spotlight faded in on the opposite side of the stage. A run of acoustic guitar chords blossomed into the drumbeat, softening the roiling backing track. And a figure on crutches hopped into the spotlight.

I jerked forward in my seat. That was my boy. That was Haru down there on the stage, dressed in white and hopping on his crutches, skipping from side to side as if he was taking a nice walk in the park. I gulped, fixing my eyes on the stage.

Haru hopped gracefully out of the brilliant spotlight, a dimmer white spotlight lighting up his outfit and bouncing off his curls. He got to the middle of the stage and seemed to notice Jungkook for the first time. Jungkook rose and fell back to show the chain would not let him go.

Haru did a spin which was only a little shaky and let his crutches fall. He knelt next to Jungkook. The music beat faster against the air as my baby urged Jungkook up on his hands and knees and showed him how to crawl.

With much carefully articulated crawling they both made it to the blinding circle of white on the other side of the stage. Jungkook pulled a glinting hammer from his pocket and knocked it against his ankle chain. The frantic beat crashed to a halt as the chain broke, Jungkook exploding from the ground as soon as he was free.

Jungkook jumped in the now sun-colored spotlight, flinging himself exuberantly across the stage. When he returned to where Haru sat on the sidelines, he scooped my boy up, and Haru stretched his arms to the light as Jungkook twirled him around. Haru stayed on Jungkook’s shoulders as they danced around the stage one final time. The music was back singing sweetly to guide them through.

The lights went out.

Haru crashed into me, crutches and all. “I danced! Was it a surprise, Mommy? Uncle Jay showed me how to do it and it was so fun and I wanted to show you so bad! Did you love it, Mommy? Was it the best surprise?”

I knelt down so I could hug Haru properly. “You danced really, really well, baby. I was very surprised.” I leaned back and smoothed his hair. “Was it hard to do with your cast? Did it hurt at all?”

Haru hmphed at me. “You sound like Uncle Hobi. He kept asking me all that boring stuff. It didn’t hurt at all, Mommy, and I didn’t bust anything or even get one bruise. It was just fun.”

Okay. He was okay. “That’s good, baby.” I stood up and took some of the bouquets from Jin’s arms. “I didn’t know you were dancing or one of these would be for you. You’ve gotten really good at keeping secrets,” I teased.

Yoongi cleared his throat. “This one’s for you,” he said, and extricated a bunch of flame-colored larkspur from Jin’s arms. He handed it to Haru.

“These are the coolest ones! Wow, Uncle Yoongi! Hey Mommy, look at these. We should have gotten some of these!”

“I’ll remember that for next time, baby.” I looked at Yoongi. “Thank you.”

He shrugged. “It’s his birth flower. I was surprised to find them in red, I didn’t know they came in that color.”

“You know exactly what to do to make him feel special, Yoongi. They’re perfect.”

Yoongi nodded indifferently. He didn’t make eye contact.

I turned away, handing out the rest of the bouquets to give him some space. Finally Jin’s arms were empty.

“This one’s for you, Jungkook.” I held out the lily bouquet.

Jungkook approached me like he would a loose rattlesnake. I waved the flowers at him. “I’m not mad, JK. I knew you wouldn’t let him get hurt.” At least, I’d been pretty sure.

Taehyung gave Jungkook a nod, reassuring him. “It was a good surprise.”

Jungkook finally took the flowers. “Thanks,” he said, a smile cracking across his face. 

I flicked Jungkook’s shoulder. “You danced well too, at least the part I saw before Haru distracted me. How come you’re so good at all this stuff?”

Hoseok punched him lightly on the arm. “Funny you should mention it. Now that Jackson’s taken over this guy is dead weight, but I guess we can keep him around for nostalgia.”

“Oh, come on, Hobi. Give him a proper compliment.”

Hoseok squinted at Jungkook before pulling him into a hug. He murmured something I couldn’t hear. It made Jungkook’s eyes go teary, though, so I figured it was good enough. I clapped my hands. “Is it ice cream time yet?”

“I will never understand your obsession with eating frozen things in the dead of winter,” Jimin grumbled. “I want hot choco.”

“You’re just sad you’re losing your chance at Best Uncle,” I shot back. I handed Haru’s crutches to Jin, since Haru was on Hoseok’s shoulders parading around with bright orange orchids in one fist and bright red larkspurs in the other. “Are we ready to go?”

“Yeah!” Haru shouted.

“Hey,” Taehyung said softly. He held the back of my coat as I stopped outside the ice cream parlor’s door, turning to look at him.

“Yeah?”

“Stay for a minute.” The others filtered by us into the warm brightness of the shop. Jimin paused briefly to pat Taehyung’s shoulder, and a look passed between them that put me on edge. The door swung jingling shut and we were alone.

“What’s wrong, Taehyung?”

He shuffled. He wasn’t really looking at me, and it was making me nervous. I stuffed my hands in my coat pockets. Stars, it was cold out here. I could see Taehyung’s breath puffing out as he opened his mouth and then shut it.

“Hey, come on, Tae. Whatever it is, it’s okay. We can fix it, no big deal.” I pulled my hand out of its warm haven and pulled at Taehyung’s sleeve. “Or we can talk about it later, too, if that’s better. Maybe somewhere warm?” I couldn’t help glancing at the nice heated interior of the shop.

“Emma, I—” He broke off. I waited, but he wasn’t getting any words out. Eventually he hung his head. “Okay. Later.”

I looked him over. In the filtered windowlight, he looked anxious, almost sick to his stomach. I stepped in and touched his cheek gently so he’d lift his head. “Woah, Taehyung. It’s okay, it’s just me. You can tell me anything.”

He lifted his head to look at me. The world went quiet and very still. “Emma,” he said, barely a whisper.

I nodded. It was all I could do. He was so close.

He took my hand. “I—” He wet his lips. “I got one for you too.”

“One of what?” I finally got out.

From behind his back Taehyung drew a cluster of flowers that I hadn’t paid for. Still holding my hand, he put the bouquet in it, clasping his other hand over to seal it in. “Flowers for you,” he said, and ducked his head.

I was feeling kind of funny. Kind of hot and cold all at once, kind of like something in the very middle of me was so badly hurt I didn’t know it yet. I wrapped my other hand around the bouquet-hand sandwich. “That’s really sweet, Taehyung. They’re beautiful.” I was pretty sure my voice was normal.

“Do you like them?” The hope in his eyes took my breath away.

“Yeah, they’re lovely. Thank you.”

“Okay, good.” He breathed out relief in a gale and took his hands away. “Because I wanted to get roses but Haru said those were boring and I didn’t want to get boring ones. But I checked with the flower shop guy—florist?—and he said carnations mean the same thing as roses, so I got those instead because I thought they were just as pretty.” Taehyung was tugging me towards the ice cream parlor now. “I really wanted to get the right thing, so I’m glad they’re good.”

“They’re perfect,” I said. I let him pull me into the store. It didn’t feel any warmer than the sidewalk, but luckily Taehyung seemed too excited now to notice.

Pink carnations.

I was an idiot. For a heartstopping second I’d thought Taehyung was going to give me the red roses he’d been looking at in the shop.

Pink. Gratitude and admiration. Carnations. The flower you give to a parent.

I held my Mother’s Day bouquet carefully and didn’t taste my ice cream at all.

Chapter Text

“That one should be warm enough.” I gave Taehyung a thumbs up with one hand as I wrestled Haru out of a thick pullover with the other. “A good color too.”

Taehyung repeated himself. “Do you like it?”

Haru popped out of the pullover. I folded it over my arm, turning to give Taehyung a full scan. He looked incredibly handsome. I managed to keep my face incredibly blank. “I do. It’s distinguished.”

He stuffed his hands in his new coat pockets smugly. “Okay,” he said, and meandered back through the racks to his section of the store.

I held the pullover out to Haru. “Do you like this one? I know it’s not a fun color, but it’s really fuzzy and it will be good for the rest of winter.”

“It has a bunny on the front, so it’s good. I like it.”

I made a check mark on my list. “Now we just need to find you some jeans you can wear once your cast comes off next week, and a couple of normal shirts for outside of school. Do you want long sleeves or short sleeves?”

Haru helped me pick through the aisles until he was outfitted for the next few months. “You keep growing,” I teased. “So it’s not a big deal if you don’t like some of these, because they won’t fit pretty soon anyway.”

“Noooo!” he complained. “I have to look super coooool! Like Uncle Hobi!” He grinned at me.

“If you want to dress like Uncle Hobi you have to start making money like Uncle Hobi,” I told him. “Momma’s pocketbook can make you look a solid medium cool and that’s it.”

Haru pointed at the clearance-rack t-shirt with bizarre egg characters on it and told me solemnly, “This is the coolest shirt we are getting.”

I nodded, over-thoughtful. “You’re right. I’m lucky that your definition of cool is so fiscally appropriate.”

“What’s fiscal?”

“Money.”

“Okay. I’m cool and also fiscally-appropriate!”

We giggled our way to the men’s section. Haru repeated “fiscally-appropriate” so he wouldn’t forget all the complicated syllables because, as he said, “Principal Kim might give me an extra sticker if I tell him.”

In the stacks of dress shirts we found Taehyung shaking his head at the assortment of ties. I laughed. “Not up to your standards?”

“They’re so boring!” he groaned. “Even if you work in an office and all your other clothes are boring, your tie should be fun.”

Haru nodded. “They don’t even have ducks.”

“Exactly. What kind of store doesn’t have a duck tie?”

“It’s not fiscally-appropriate,” Haru said with a face like a judge’s. He looked around in confusion when we started laughing hysterically. “Did I say it wrong?”

“No, baby, you said it perfectly,” I gasped, wiping my eyes. “It was just funny.”

“Oh. Okay!” He beamed. “Are we getting McDonald’s now?”

I looked at my list. “We have everything for you. How did you do, Taehyung? Anything else you need before we check out?”

Taehyung piled his choices into the cart. His coat, soft turtlenecks in dark colors, a thick cardigan, a basic sweatpants and sweatshirt set, a button-down and a few tshirts. “I already have jeans,” he said.

“You should get some dress pants though, or some corduroys or chinos. Something in case you want to wear your ties.”

Taehyung frowned at me. “That’s a lot.”

“Yeah, so? You’re not going to outgrow them, the way this munchkin is.” I affectionately knuckle-scrubbed Haru’s head.

“Yeah, it’s fiscally-appropriate!” Haru yelled, squirming away from me.

I pushed the cart over to the pants before Taehyung could argue more. I started pulling out ones to show him, colors he might like, fits that would look good. He eyed me. When I wouldn’t stop, he chose a few pairs to add to his heap.

“Well, that’s settled,” I said cheerfully. “McDonalds it is.”

Taehyung halted me with a hand on my arm. “But none of this stuff is for you,” he said softly.

There was something in his tone that made my insides warm. A danger sign. I smiled lazily up at him. “My closet’s stuffed! Let’s go check out.”

“No.”

Taehyung folded his arms. Haru looked between us. “Fine. I do need some new socks, Taehyung. I’ll grab those and—”

“Not socks.”

I blinked at him in exasperation. “Then what? I have plenty of sweaters, I don’t need new jeans, I even have a few fancy outfits buried somewhere. I’m not a fashionista. Simple does it for me.”

Taehyung pointed at the pants, sitting conspicuously on top of the pile in the cart. “I don’t technically need new pants either.”

“But you should have them.” I raised my eyebrows, not daring to let the warm liquid pooling in my stomach slosh any higher. “I like both my boys to be well-dressed, and you enjoy fancier pants like this.” I grinned brightly. “Mr. Fancy Pants.”

Taehyung didn’t take the bait. “I like my girl to be well-dressed,” he said, and his gaze burned me. He stepped closer. “You always do this,” he said quietly. “You tell us to get the things we like and you stand there and don’t get a single thing you like. You don’t even look.”

I closed my eyes. “Taehyung.”

“You should have fun stuff too. Just because you want it.”

“Stuff isn’t that important to me.”

I heard him huff. “Fine. Look, it’s important to me that you spend a little on yourself, okay?” He poked my arm until I opened my eyes. “Do it for me even if you think it’s stupid.”

“Fine.” I crossed my arms.

“Fine.”

 “This one, Mommy! You’ve got to get this one!” Haru shouted. The dress he was holding out was covered in sequins and, although he was too short to notice, would not cover much of me. “It’s shiny!”

I flushed. Taehyung was watching. “Nope, baby, that’s too loud. Let’s pick something a little less teenager.”

“But I like sparkles,” he pouted.

I seized the sparkliest dress that was near me. “Then what about this one?”

Haru looked at it. “Ooh,” he said. “That one’s got patterns on the top. I like that one.”

I glanced down. I was holding a floor-length dress in dark blue. The bodice was half blue, half black lace with long lace sleeves. Its hemline was dipped in glitter and there was an optional belt with a sparkling bow.

“Okay,” I said, heading for the dressing room.

Taehyung held up his hand. “Wait, you should look around for something you like.”

I rolled my eyes. “We’re going to be here forever if I do that.”

Taehyung pointedly sat down on the waiting bench.

“Fine.” I dropped the blue dress on top of him. “Guard this then.”

“Fashion show!” Haru cheered.

“I didn’t agree to this,” I grumbled. “I thought this was about me spending money for something useless, not about me embarrassing myself in front of you.”

“But I was good at waiting, so now you have to show us all the dresses, Mommy. You have to walk like this.” Haru demonstrated a rolling sailors gait that resembled a catwalk if I squinted.

“I’m not walking like that.” I shut myself into the dressing room.

The first dress was a textured maroon taffeta that came down to my knees in a poof. With a sweetheart neckline and little puffed sleeves, it was simple and would look good for a holiday party. I looked in the mirror. A little childish, maybe, but it fit.

I opened the door. Haru clapped his hands. “I like red. Eunji, my friend at school I told you about, has that dress. It’s pretty!”

Ok, maybe it was a lot childish. I retreated.

The next dress was turquoise drenched in tulle. By the time it was on I was pretty sure it was designed for a pencil, not a person. It was supposed to be my size but it stretched so tightly across my curves that I was afraid to move. This was why I hated shopping. “The turquoise doesn’t fit,” I called through the door.

I turned to the one Haru had been most excited for. Although there were no sequins, the dress had a sheen to it. I wasn’t sure exactly what the pale fabric was. It was soft, though, and it looked like someone had come after it with blue and pink watercolor paints. I fought it on and got it zipped without tripping on the trailing hem. The dropped sleeves fluttered as I reached for the door.

Haru jumped up when he saw me. “Do a spin, Mommy!”

When his eyes sparkled like that, I couldn’t say no. I spun. The dress swished around me.

When I stopped Haru was watching me with his hands clasped up to his chest. “That’s a princess dress, Mommy. You look exactly like a book picture.”

Somewhat disconcerted, I laughed a little. “Thank you for the compliment, baby. Should I get this one then?”

Taehyung shifted. “Try the other ones. See if you like this one best.”

I met his eyes and immediately wished I hadn’t. Feeling my face go hot, I whipped around and headed back for the dressing room.

Inside, I flung myself out of the dress and slipped on an elegant white number I’d picked last minute. I shook my head. Taehyung could look at me if he wanted. It didn’t change anything. My signature was on a stack of paperwork that said he was off limits. I squeezed my eyes shut and forced the picture of pink carnations to the front of my mind.

I finally found the side zipper to the dress and barged back through the door. “Okay, number four,” I said. I smoothed it.

Avoiding Taehyung’s eyes, I accidentally looked into the full-length mirror next to the waiting couches. I made a face. This dress was beautiful, cream-white with a shallow boat neckline and a A-line skirt that flared out, falling to my knees in front and swooping down to the floor in back. My scuffed winter boots and fly-away hairs were like a slap in the face.

“Nope,” I said. I marched back. This dress would need heels and an updo, possibly also dangly earrings, before it would look good. That was a lot of useless purchases.

I slipped it off carefully. It really was pretty.

The black over the shoulder dress I’d thought was going to be the most practical turned out to be very tight. It’s not like I was ashamed of my body. I just didn’t think I’d be able to wear this in public without being uncomfortable. “This one doesn’t fit,” I called through the door.

I was left with the dark blue dress I’d picked first. “My last hope,” I said to it. I unzipped it and wiggled in.

The silky skirt cascaded to the floor. When I moved, it pooled around me, and the lace wasn’t even itchy. I gathered up a handful of fabric and swished it. Oooh, that was so glossy and graceful. I pulled up the bodice.

And that’s when I discovered something about the dress I’d failed to see when I yanked it off its rack. It didn’t have a back. “Or maybe not,” I muttered. My stomach flipped when I considered walking out in front of Taehyung in the dress.

“This one doesn’t fit either,” I shouted, preparing to strip the dress off. I ran my hands regretfully over the skirt again. It rippled and shimmered like deep water.

My phone rang. I jumped. Rooting through my crumpled jeans on the bench, I grabbed it just as it went to voicemail. I was about to toss it back when I saw the caller ID.

Yoongi.

I hurriedly dialed voicemail.

Hey um not sure if you’re around but I got news today. Um really good news actually. If Taehyung’s around have him give me a call back, or you can too. It’s, yeah, anyway. Give me a call back when you can.

I punched in redial. He picked up on the first ring. “Yoongi?”

“The assemblyman is going to take on the case.”

“Oh my god! Wait, really?” I scrambled for the door. “Tae! Tae!” I got it open. “After one meeting?”

“Yeah.”

“Genius Yoongi!” I whirled out. “Taehyung, Yoongi met with Park Kangmin and he’s going to take it to the Assembly! Here!” I shoved the phone at a confused Taehyung.

I watched Taehyung’s face change from a frown to a concentrated stare to dawning excitement. “Yeah,” he said finally, and handed the phone back to me with a suddenly intent look.

“So I’m going to keep working on shoring up the arguments, obviously, but it’s the first real progress since we’ve started. I’m… well, it had to happen eventually. It’s nice Park Kangmin can see reason.” Yoongi’s voice was steady and philosophical.

“Yoongi, it’s okay to be excited! I’m really happy for you, and really glad that things are moving forward. Can you come over for dinner tonight?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, we’re picking up McDonalds. We’re going to twist your arm until you tell us everything, you know.”

“I know.” He hung up.

I dropped the phone next to Haru on the couch and flung my arms around Taehyung. “You’re going to be free!” I rejoiced.

He laughed. “One step at a time. But finally a big step.” He wrapped me up.

I bounced. “It’s a good step.”

“Hmmm.” Taehyung looked at me. “I thought this dress didn’t fit?”

My brain did a record scratch. I hadn’t changed into my clothes yet. I was wearing the backless blue dress. I was hugging Taehyung. I started to pull away.

“Looks like it fits to me,” Taehyung murmured. He glanced at Haru and then tugged me sideways a little so I was facing my son. “What do you think, Haru? Isn’t your mom pretty?”

Haru frowned uncertainly. “It’s not a princess dress.”

“You’re right. I like it, though.” Still talking to Haru, Taehyung pulled me into him. “It’s a grown up dress.” And he ghosted his fingers right over my spine.

I couldn’t help it. I shivered, gripping his shirt helplessly. His faint laugh puffed across my face. I fought for breath and when I could get something out it was embarrassingly unsteady. “Taehyung, this is a public space.”

He gently lifted my chin. “Good to know that’s your only objection.”

I choked. “I—that’s not what I meant. I need to change. And that’s not my only—I mean, I guess we need to clear up a few misunderstandings again,” I finished miserably.

He nodded. “Okay. But you’re getting this one, right?”

“Of course not.”

He gripped my arm. “You think it’s pretty?”

“Well, yeah, but—”

He let me go with a satisfied grin. “Go change. I’m getting it.”

“I’m not letting you buy—”

“You don’t get to ‘let’ me anymore, Emma. Didn’t you hear? I’m a free man!” Taehyung’s eyes were lit with excitement from deep within, almost glowing.

I couldn’t help melting a little. “Fine.”

“Fine.”

I went to change. Luckily Yoongi was coming for dinner and I could escape the excruciating conversation of boundaries and feelings for a few more hours. I yanked up my jeans. You can’t take advantage of him, I reminded myself, staring fiercely in the mirror. Not even if it seems more and more like he wants you to.

Chapter Text

“Are you sure that’s all of it?” I asked.

Jin waved me off. “Of course. I literally piled JK up until he couldn’t see where he was going. Yoongi’s putting everything in the fridge.” He shoved at me. “Go do something else.”

I left the kitchen and went out the little covered breezeway to the rental’s double bedroom apartment. Taehyung and Haru had just finished their unpacking. Haru pointed excitedly at the bed. “See, Mommy? Matching!”

They’d laid out their matching dinosaur pajamas next to the pillows, one on either side. Haru jumped over his open suitcase and grabbed my hand. “Can we go to the beach now?”

“I’m not sure if the others are ready,” I said, brushing Haru’s hair back. “But get your boots on, and find your coat. I’ll go see.”

Haru skipped through the sand, wheeling with his arms out like the winter birds he sent crashing into the air as he ran by. “Wheeee!” he screamed.

We watched him from the high tide mark. Jin shivered. “Yoongi had the right idea. I’m going to go start lunch,” he declared, and trudged back to the house.

Yoongi had refused to leave the comfort of modern heating. Hoseok and Jimin looked like they were having second thoughts themselves. “He’ll be tired soon, right?” Hoseok asked hopefully.

I smiled at my boy doing circles along the waterline. “Probably not. Except for the car ride, he hasn’t stopped running since his cast came off.”

“Okay, yeah. I’m going to head in.” Hoseok left, Jimin trailing behind him.

Jungkook came up behind me muttering nonsense with his absurdly large camera bag slung over his shoulder. “Did I miss it?” He scurried onto the beach. “Oh, I missed it. But I can work with this. Let’s see, a wide angle? Zoom in on that rock?” He buried himself in his camera.

Haru’s cavorting had taken him away from us. I glanced at Taehyung. “I can keep an eye on him if you want to go back in.”

Taehyung didn’t say anything, just stuck out his hand. I took it and we wandered down to where Haru had finally come to rest, panting. He was picking through the stones on the waterline as we came up. “Look!” he said, and held up a broken shell. “It’s whirly!”

“Like you,” I teased. “You’ve scuffed up half the beach with your dancing and prancing. Aren’t you hungry yet?”

“Hungry as a horse!” He threw himself at me. “Where’s your granola bars?” He stuck his hand in my coat pocket. His cold little fingers skittered across my hand, freezing me and finding no snacks.

Another hand snuck into my other coat pocket while Haru was busy. Taehyung smuggled my last granola bar over into his own coat, winking at me, and then took my hand again as if nothing had happened. I averted my eyes quickly to fend off the giggles.

Haru dipped around to my other pocket and patted me down. “Aw, Mo-om!” he said. “Not even one?”

“You must have eaten them all on the ride over,” I said, trying to keep a straight face. “Jin is making lunch though, so we can get food at the house.”

“But I don’t want to go in yet,” Haru whined.

“Oh no. That’s a real shame.”

Haru kicked at the sand. “I’m going to find— Taehyung!”

Taehyung was innocently unwrapping the granola bar he’d sneaked. “What?” He brought it up to take a bite.

“That’s min…” Haru trailed off, evidently realizing he couldn’t technically lay claim to the granola bar. “I’m hungry,” he said instead with a pout.

“Oh no. That’s a real shame.”

I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I burst out laughing, and Taehyung handed over the snack, ruffling Haru’s hair. “Dance the whole beach if you want. We’ll go in when the granola bar wears off.”

Haru ate in three big bites and went right back to his noisy exploration. Taehyung and I followed him slowly. The rush of warmth I’d gotten from helping Taehyung with his joke slowly leeched away, leaving behind a wintery, bitter aftertaste. We’d never managed to have that talk about boundaries. Things just kept coming up, and maybe I’d put it off a little on purpose too. Guilt climbed up my throat as Taehyung swung our joined hands back and forth. Feeling how I did about him, I really shouldn’t even allow this much.

But I did. I held Taehyung’s hand as the waves dashed themselves onto the freezing beach and tried to pretend nothing had changed.

“So this is worth it?” Jin asked me.

I sniffed. Turning away from him, I marched into the sparkling tunnel that led to the main light show. His squeaking laugh followed me, but now that he couldn’t see, I let myself smile. He’d been right. Coming to the main beach to see the Christmas lights had been a great distraction, despite the cold.

Haru waved from Jimin’s shoulders. “Mommy, look at the fish!”

I joined them at the railing. Yoongi came up beside us, silently standing on my other side. This was the centerpiece of the holiday display. Beach raked flat, a thousand little lights had been placed in a grid above the high water mark. Someone very clever had programmed them to turn on in different colors and times so that the shapes of sharks and whales flashed across the sand in graceful loops.

The rest of the group came chattering up, but I wasn’t listening. I watched the lights without speaking. The dark cold night and the dancing sea creatures were strangely mesmerizing, and, although Hoseok was laughing next to me, the waves in the distance pounded in my ears. I was caught in a bubble of silence that was out of step with the cheery mood among my friends. I turned my eyes up.

There were the stars. I pulled in a cold breath and held it. I couldn’t see the stars in the city, but here, even with the lights, they looked down like they had in my childhood backyard.

Someone shuffled in next to me. I didn’t turn my head. Taehyung put his arm around my shoulder and the stars watched me stand there and let him do it.

Something deep inside me broke. I couldn’t keep doing this. I let out my breath in a gout into the freezing air and crumpled into Taehyung, turning to bury my face in his spiffy new coat. “Can we go somewhere else?” I mumbled after the wave of shame ebbed away.

“Yeah,” he said quietly, and tapped Haru on the arm. “Stick with the uncles, okay, buddy? I’m going to take your mom on a little walk.”

Jin started to “oooh” but got an elbow in the ribs. I pulled Taehyung away before anyone else could comment. We went back through the arch of lights at a brisk walk, and I didn’t slow down until we were across the boardwalk and in the bustling square surrounded by brightly-lit beach shops. I turned to Taehyung. “We need to talk.”

Taehyung frowned at me. “Is this a public kind of thing?”

“No one here will ever see us again. And I can’t keep pretending—” I gulped in a breath and got my voice under control. “I can’t keep putting it off. I should have made it a priority but I didn’t so now we’re here.”

Taehyung reached for my hand. “Okay, let’s sit over—”

I yanked it back. “That’s what I can’t do. Taehyung, I’m sorry, I can’t keep holding hands and all that.”

In the multicolored lights his face went mulish. I’d done something wrong. Oh god, I’d already ruined this conversation. I braced.

“Why.”

“Because I can’t. There’s other people around now, so they can fill up your cuddle box. Hobi always likes hugs and Jimin of course and—”

“Why can’t you give them to me?”

“Because.”

Taehyung tilted his head, and his words came out ground through his teeth. “Why. Can’t. You.”

“I can’t! I just can’t anymore! Taehyung, there’s other people so just let it go, okay?” This was a disaster. I was backing up. A few more steps and I’d be part of the stream of people on the sidewalk and I might just get swept all the way out to sea.

Taehyung darted forward. Before I could drift away he caught my hand and reeled me in, pulling me across the square to a small alcove with benches. He sat me down. I flinched away from him as he sat next to me, not touching even his coat.

“There isn’t anyone else, Emma.”

“Yes, there—”

“No.” He didn’t try to touch me. “Not for me.”

I looked up at the stars. Now what? The stars had vanished in the commercial glitter of the square.

I scrubbed at my eyes. “I’m sorry, Tae. It’s my fault. I—if I don’t tell you to back off I’m really going to get you into trouble. It’s not okay for it to be like that, but I can’t help it, and I’m trying so hard to make sure that you’re not in trouble.” A fat tear splotched on my coat sleeve. I scrubbed at my eyes again miserably.

There was a long silence. I sniffled. “That’s why.”

A woman set her purse on the bench opposite us, dug around, then left. “You’re not making any sense,” Taehyung said finally.

I risked a glance. Taehyung’s jaw was set. I blew my nose. “Look, I’m just saying you should get your cuddles from Jimin.”

“Because then I won’t get in trouble?”

“Exactly.”

“Emma, what trouble?” he huffed, twisting around to face me.

“Just, trouble, you know. Because you’re… you know.”

I was somehow making this worse. I could feel the tension radiating from him. “Talk straight,” he snapped. “I hold your hand. I’m happy. You’re happy. What devastating thing happens to mess that up?”

“I’m telling you! It’s my problem for being happy, and it is my fault, I admit that. But it’s still a problem.”

“You’re happy?”

I squeezed my eyes shut. “Yeah.”

“And that’s a problem?”

“Yeah,” I said miserably.

He was silent again. People walked by. I let the tears leak out of my eyes because I couldn’t stop them. This was bad. My mind whirled and whirled but couldn’t find a way to fix it.

“Emma.”

“Yeah.”

“I love you.”

The whirling stopped. Footsteps echoed from so far away and the lights had all smeared into a soft blur when I opened my eyes.

He was looking at me. He was looking at me, determined and stubborn. “I love you,” he said again.

“No.”

“I love—”

“No, no, you can’t.” I stumbled to my feet. “It’s not right, it’s because I took care of you, it’s not real.”

“It’s not. It is. I love you.”

“You can’t!”

He was on his feet now. I stared at him through the glistering lights. “You can’t, Tae. I own you. It’s not right.”

“You don’t own me!”

“I know. But that’s the paperwork I signed. Carved into that sheet of paper as a promise that I’m legally responsible for you. You can’t.”

He took a step toward me. I backed away only to be brought up short against a bush. He very carefully didn’t touch me, again, but pushed right up into my space until I had nowhere to run. “That paperwork is bullshit, Emma. It doesn’t mean a thing. You know that.”

“It’s the law!”

“So you believe what the law says about hybrids?” His face was pale and grim in the light from the string wound around the bush. “You think that’s all I’m worth?”

“No, Tae. Of course not.”

“Then what’s the problem, exactly?”

I swallowed. “Haru—”

“Haru wants this, maybe even more than I do,” Taehyung spat out. “Next?”

I couldn’t get my words to work. I pressed myself back into the bush to get space, but still couldn’t seem to breathe.

“Emma,” Taehyung said. He exhaled shakily. “I’m in love with you. Will you please tell me if that’s something you, you know, like? Or can at least tolerate?”

He kept saying that word and every time he did my brain turned to mush. Curse him for being so handsome in this coat. I nodded. “Yeah.”

“Yes to which one?” he huffed.

“Yes, I’m in love with you.” I shouldn’t be staring so much at the stars in his eyes. They were just reflections of the Christmas lights.

“Wait, what?”

I blinked. “Wait, what?”

“You’re in love with me?”

“No, you said you’re in love with me!”

“Yeah, but are you in love with me?”

“Well, duh, but are you in love with me?”

“Yeah!”

“Oh. Okay.” I blinked again. Hard. It didn’t work. I was still looking at him. “That’s… cool, I guess.”

“You dork. Why didn’t you tell me?” Taehyung gently touched the side of my face, as if he wasn’t sure he was allowed.

“Because I thought—I’d be taking advantage of you. Right?”

“Ah. But you won’t be, see?”

“Because of the law being wrong about you?”

“Yeah. Because of that. And also because I’m planning to take advantage of you,” he said, tracing my cheek with his thumb.

I nodded. “So it cancels out?” My eyes flicked to his lips.

“Sure.” He was leaning even closer when a terrific crash sounded from the other side of the bush.

We both jumped out of our skins and dashed for the sidewalk. When we got there, a crowd of people had gathered to watch a young pianist smash his way through an aggressive rendition of “Dashing Through the Snow.”

Taehyung looked at me and I started laughing. I clung to him and laughed until I cried, holding him close as the lights flashed in time with “Jingle Bells” and “All I Want for Christmas Is You.”

Taehyung wiped my tears. “All I want for—” he started to whisper to me.

I put my hand over his mouth. “Don’t even. I hate that song, it’s so obnoxious.”

He kissed my palm and laughed at me when I snatched my hand back. “Okay,” he said cheekily. He nodded at the pianist. “He’s good.”

“Yeah.” He was, now that he wasn’t scaring the bejeezus out of us. “Do you want to stay?”

“We should go back to the others, don’t you think?”

“Probably. How long has it even been? Hours, probably.”

With a delicate arrangement of “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” tinkling out behind us, we headed back to our friends. I held Taehyung’s hand tight, and all the lights glowed across his face like a revelation.

I glanced across the breakfast table at Taehyung. “Actually, I think I’ll stay back and do some baking.”

Jungkook muttered something I was glad I didn’t hear. Yoongi looked over at Taehyung. “You coming?”

“Did all my shopping earlier.”

The rest of the uncles exchanged smirking glances and I kicked at Jin’s chair under the table. “Stop that.”

“Stop what?” he said innocently.

Haru was thankfully still slurping up his pancakes, oblivious. I grimaced at Jin. “You know what.”

“Okay, okay,” he said, getting up to clear the table. “You two stay out of trouble and we’ll make sure Haru gets into all the trouble we can find.”

Haru’s ears perked up. “We’re getting into trouble?”

“Nope!” I snatched up the leftover pancakes and the syrup. “Your Uncle Jinnie is trying to get you into trouble, but you’re a good boy, right?”

Haru chewed his mouthful. “Yeah,” he said in confusion.

“Anything you want us to pick up?” Yoongi asked as he got up and shrugged on his jacket, then started winding his absurdly long scarf around his neck.

“I forgot jam. If you can grab some I’ll bake bread to have with the soup tonight when the Kims are over.”

Muffled up to his nose, Yoongi gave me a thumbs up and struggled into his long puffer coat. He headed out to defrost the cars.

The boys made short work of the dishes and filed out to join Yoongi in the van he’d rented for the trip. I scrubbed syrup off Haru’s cheek and dropped a kiss on his head. “Stick with the uncles, baby.”

“Mommy, make a funny bread, okay?”

“For your friends? Yeah, I’ll make a funny bread.”

Haru skipped out the door. I straightened up and waited until the latch clicked behind him before looking at Taehyung.

“Alone at last,” he said, grinning like a fool. He wound his arms around my waist and pulled me into him. “Whatever shall we do?”

I grinned like a fool back at him. “We bake!”

Taehyung wrinkled up his nose. “It smells weird.”

“It smells good! Like yeast, which is excellent.”

“Because it’s yeast?”

“Because it’s yeast. Now put the tablespoon of sugar in and stir it up. We’ll let it sit while we measure out flour.” Taehyung dubiously poured the allotted sugar into the cup of warm water. I dumped the sack of flour on the countertop with a thud and started opening drawers. “I know Yoongi packed cup measures. Where did he put them?”

Taehyung eyed the flour. “We need all of that?”

I laughed at him from the floor, still searching cabinets. “Not so much, we’ll need about half.”

“Okay.” I had my head inside a cabinet when I heard a rrrrii-ip and an “Ooops. Oh, no.”

I popped out. Taehyung had opened the flour. In the process, a lot of it had poofed into the air and was now settling in the lazy winter sunshine onto his hair, shoulders, and the countertops.

“Sorry,” Taehyung said contritely.

I burst into giggles. “Cute,” I said, and got back to my feet to brush it off him. He looked at me, and there was flour on his eyelashes. I leaned in to flick it away.

“Emma.”

“Yeah?”

His hand rested on my waist again. “I’m not really going to take advantage of you.”

I stopped, my hand millimeters from his face. “I know.” I blinked, then carefully wiped at his eye. “It doesn’t cancel out, either. I wasn’t exactly thinking straight last night.”

“Do you get it though? What I was trying to say?”

I sighed. “Yeah. I’m sorry, Tae. I didn’t realize how much I was belittling you by thinking that dumb paperwork should dictate my relationship with you. You’re a full person, regardless of what the law says. I don’t get to tell you how to feel.”

He smiled at me, eyes alight. “Just to be clear, I feel like I’m in love with you.”

“Hmmm, how lucky for you.”

“Emma!”

“Okay, okay.” I patted his hair, flour puffing out into the air. “I love you too.” I poked his cheek. “Now are we going to make my baby his funny bread or are we going to stand here until the yeast runs over?”

I slid Haru’s requested “funny bread,” a rocket-ship shaped loaf, into the oven with the others and wiped my hands down the side of my pants. “That’s done.” I fumbled for my phone to set a timer, then wandered into the big shared common room of the rental.

Taehyung pulled me down onto the couch, slinging an arm around me. He wiped at my cheek with his sleeve. It came away floury. “Happy?”

I did the thing I’d wanted to do for so long and snuggled into him. “Happy.”

We watched the waves roll through the huge picture window that faced the ocean. Those waves were so much more beautiful today, and that reminded me of something. I shifted. “Hey, Tae, can I ask a question?”

He just squeezed my shoulder gently.

“Didn’t you know I was in love with you?”

He snorted a little. “How would I know that, Emma? You spent a lot of time not telling me, even last night.”

“Because of your smell thing. Didn’t you know I liked you, and stuff?”

Taehyung scooted around so he could look at me. “I mean, it was obvious you thought I was attractive. But your emotions were spiking all over the place, so it was hard for me to tell anything more than that.”

“Oh. That’s… embarrassing.”

He laughed a little. “To be honest I was also slightly distracted because I was busy falling in love with you.”

I nodded. The waves rolled in and flowed out. “Okay.”

“Any more questions?” he said, settling back against me.

“Actually, yeah. What do you want to tell Haru?”

I could feel his ribcage deflate as he breathed out. “Ooh, good one. Um, I think we should tell him everything?”

“He’s going to want you to be his dad.”

Taehyung hummed. “Good.”

I turned to look at him. “You’re okay with that?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Just, I don’t know. It could get awkward. He has pretty vague ideas about what a dad is, but he might stubborn if he thinks you’re not doing it right.”

Taehyung blinked at me. “I think I can handle it.”

“Okay then. We tell him that we’re going to be in a romantic relationship, not just a family one, and that he can call you Dad if he wants.”

“I like it.” Taehyung took my hand. “Hey, I know we already have a deal that you tell me if I push your boundaries too much. How much are you comfortable with now that we’re together?”

I raised my eyebrows at the ocean. “Like, how much physical affection can I tolerate?”

“Like can I… kiss you?”

My palm started to sweat. “I don’t—” I shifted so I could hide my glowing cheeks. “I don’t hate the idea but maybe ask first?” I croaked.

Taehyung laughed and patted my hand. “Okay, we’ll take it one step at a time. And Em?”

“Yeah?” I muttered, still hiding.

“You can ask me if you want something, too. Okay?”

I scrunched up my shoulders and slid down into the couch. “Yeah, will do. Cool. Okay.” I sniffed. “Do you think the bread is burning? I should probably check if the bread is burning.”

“I’ll come with you,” Taehyung said, and burst out laughing at my betrayed glare.

“To see Santa?” I looked across the table at Haru’s excited grin. “I guess, if you want to go, we can tag along.”

“Yeah!” Haru hastily swallowed his mouthful of army stew and gave Taehyun and Yeonjun high fives. “It’s so fun to see all the funny presents and signs and stuff. And sometimes Santa will give you candy.”

“Santa gives you candy?” Hueningkai inquired around a huge bite of the rocket shaped bread.

“Depends, but sometimes. One year I got three whole kisses, you know the white and mint kind?”

“That’s my favorite kind! Man, I can’t wait to see Santa then.”

I hurriedly slid the rice over to Soobin, who’d politely asked for it, and said, “Santa might not have candy this year, boys. But it’s fun to take pictures as a family.”

A lull fell in the conversation. Namjoon and Ari beamed around the table. “Yeah, as a family,” Ari said, and rested her hand on Beomgyu’s head. He leaned into her.

Grins erupted around the table. “Congratulations,” I said softly.

She winked at me. “Right back at you.”

I frowned. She looked meaningfully at Taehyung, sitting next to me with his arm across the back of my chair. I ducked my head before a smile threatened to split my face in two. The bread I quickly stuffed in my mouth tasted pretty good, even without jam.

Yoongi plonked a stack of blank cards on the table along with a massive bucket of markers. “For the letters,” he said.

I looked at him. Behind us the kitchen was full of a bickering Jin and Jungkook washing up after dinner, and Haru with all five of the together boys were running around the couches in the common room in some sort of cops-and-robbers game. “What letters?” I asked Yoongi over the noise.

“Jimin said they might want to write letters to give to Santa. So I got stuff.”

“That’s really thoughtful, Yoongi, thank you.” I turned to the common room and clapped my hands. “Hey, boys, come write your letters to Santa!”

I almost got trampled as six boys stampeded toward the craft supplies. They ripped open the pack of cards and had markers rolling everywhere in a matter of seconds. “What’re you going to ask for?” Haru asked, already making bold lines on his paper.

“I don’t know.” Hueningkai tilted his head. “Do we really get the thing we ask for?”

Haru’s marker halted. He shrugged.

“What are you going to ask for?” Taehyun asked, carefully putting a border on the front side of his card.

Haru shrugged again nonchalantly. “Something I really want. Lots of people ask for toys they like, so that’s a good thing to put if you can’t think of anything.”

Soobin was looking down at his card. “I don’t think I need anything else,” he said, and pushed it away.

Haru shoved it back in front of him. “But you still should put something! Even if you just ask for, like, socks or something. It’s Santa!”

Yeonjun, who had finished a lopsided tree on his card, snorted a little. “Yeah, Soobin. Put socks. You’ll probably get them if you put socks.”

Soobin squinted warningly at him and then glanced at the younger boys. “Okay, fine,” he said, and started writing in neat penmanship.

They worked on their cards for a surprisingly long time, long enough that we had to hurry them into their coats. Haru waved his in front of me. “Isn’t it pretty, Mommy? I made it perfect!”

He had put a lot of hard work into making representations of all twelve reindeer and a sleigh on the front. They were even recognizable. “It’s so pretty!” I tried to catch a glimpse of the inside.

“No, Mommy, that’s for Santa,” Haru said sternly, and clutched the card to his chest.

I couldn’t manage a peek at his card on the ride over either. He was getting way too good at keeping secrets from me. I’d just have to hope the Santa would let me look after Haru had gotten his picture taken.

Taehyung lifted Haru up and spun him in the square. As Haru shrieked with laughter, I snuck back to the line where Santa waited to greet the next family.

The Santa, clearly a fit young man in a lot of padding, gave me a wink. “This one?” He plucked Haru’s card from the basket next to his chair.

“Yes, thank you!” I took the card and hastily scanned it.

Dear Santa,

There’s a lot of things I wanted to tell you this Christmas. Mostly I just wanted to say thank you. Last year I asked you for Legos and friends at my new school. I got lots of friends and even some Legos! Thank you a lot!

This year I am bigger and don’t need toys. I got a new leg and even more friends and we got Taehyung. So I’m pretty good. But there’s one thing I’m going to ask. I don’t know if you can do it because it’s not a toy. But you’re Santa so that’s pretty strong so I’m going to ask, and don’t feel bad if you can’t.

Can Taehyung be my dad? I don’t have a dad, and I like Taehyung best of anybody except my mom. That’s my biggest present that I want.

I hope you have a good time going to all the other kids and leaving them toys.

Merry Christmas!

Haru Quinn

I folded the card slowly and handed it back to Santa. His eyes were a grave contact-lens blue. “What about that wish, huh?” he asked me gently. “That’s a little outside my jurisdiction.”

It felt like my ears were going to burn right off the sides of my head. I smiled a little at the fake snow around Santa’s boots. “I have a feeling someone’s going to have a pretty good Christmas,” I said.

Santa’s blue eyes sparkled like the laughter of my son as he slipped the card back into the basket.

No one wanted to pack to go back to the city when it was time. Yoongi finally stepped in and ordered everybody to put their luggage in the rented van, then handed me the keys to Jin’s car. “You drive this, I’ll drive the van, we stop at that rest stop right outside the city and switch drivers.”

I looked at Jin. He heaved his suitcase into the overloaded backseat of the van and nodded at me. “I’ll take over after the half-way point.”

It was dark by the time we hit the city limits. Haru had dozed off after we’d gone through a drive through for supper, a forgotten smear of ketchup still on the corner of his mouth. Jin and Hoseok stretched with a groan. “Want anything from the food court?” Hoseok asked, rightly assuming I was going to stay in the car.

“Naw, go eat all the grease you like.”

They slid out of the car and I gathered up the stale fast-food wrappers, bundling them together for the trash. Before I could open my door, there was a knock on it. Taehyung stood outside.

I clicked the latch and started to climb out, but Taehyung took the trash from me and walked it over to the outside bin. He went around to Jin’s seat and got in. “Mean of them to make us ride separate,” he said quietly.

I yawned. “Maybe it was for the best.” I reached for his hand. “We don’t want them to vote us off the island for public indecency or anything.”

“We haven’t been even close to indecent.”

“No. But there was enough retching when we sat next to each other last night I was worried Haru was going to catch on.”

“They’re idiots.”

“Yeah,” I said fondly.

Taehyung clicked around with the center console until he got it to fold up, and he sprawled out comfortably into the extra space. “Hey, Emma?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you really good with not telling Haru until Christmas?”

Haru snored softly behind us. I kept my voice low. “Unless you want to tell him sooner. I think it would make it kind of special, that’s all.”

Taehyung nudged my knee with his. “I’m good with it, I just think he’s going to figure it out.”

I shrugged. “Well, that will be special too. It’s only three days.”

“Yeah.”

We listened to the traffic go by on the highway. The streetlights of the rest stop reached into the warm car and blurred the lines of reality, painting meaningless monsters in every corner. Taehyung played with my hand.

I tilted my head at him. “What is it?”

He looked up, a little startled. In the shadows his eyes were huge moons of darkness. He slipped his fingers between mine.

“Tae.”

“Can I kiss you?”

A spark of apprehension lit in my mind and flew away into the night. I let it go. “Yes.”

He was warm and very gentle as he slid closer and lifted my chin. He paused to make sure, but I was already lost in his dark eyes. I blinked back at him.

He leaned in and I let my eyes flutter closed. This close I could smell his lip balm, a hint of strawberry. I wondered if he could smell mine. I waited.

When nothing happened, I opened my eyes. Taehyung was studying me. I frowned at him. “I though you wanted to kiss me?”

“Did I?” He pulled back the tiniest bit. “I seem to have forgotten what I was doing.” He started to give me a lazy, teasing smile and I snapped.

“Don’t you dare,” I hissed, and yanked him forward. “Kiss me or you can walk home.”

“Well, if that’s how you feel about it,” he said. He pulled me in and finally, finally kissed me.

Hard.

I gasped a little. My heart left my body and hovered somewhere above the car with the streetlights. Taehyung pulled away, a satisfied smirk on those delectable lips. “So, do I get to stay in the car?”

I really shouldn’t be staring so hard at his mouth. “That depends.”

“On?”

“Whether you’re going to kiss me again.”

Taehyung stayed where he was with a devilish glint in his eyes. “Hmmm. And here I am thinking it’s your turn.”

I slid all the way over into his lap and wound my hands into his curls. “Come here, you infuriating man.”

The streetlights flickered. The noise of the distant highway hummed. And my son snored on in the back seat as Taehyung quietly and skillfully put my heart right back where it belonged.

Chapter Text

*beginning of recording*

Indistinct muttering in the background, clinking of cutlery.

A quiet deep voice, a little raspy: I think it’s working now. Just be careful not to unwind the little gears here, or you’ll have magnetic tape everywhere.

A child’s voice: Thanks Uncle Yoongi!

Uncle Yoongi: Hmm, wanna try that again?

Child: Thanks, Best Uncle!

Laughter. Someone in the background shouts “ice cream doesn’t —” but it gets cut off in the group chatter.

Child’s voice, very close to the mic: Hi. This is my present from Christmas and I was saving it because I’m going to talk to it every day for a year for a diary. Uncle Jimin said he writes one but that takes too long. Footsteps, sounds in background fading. All of the uncles are here because it’s New Years and they’re being really loud—door clicks—okay, now I can talk.

Child: I should give it a name, right? People name their diaries? Okay, your name is Homer Hickam. That’s the name of a guy who makes rockets and I’m gonna build rockets too. Okay Homer. My name is Haru and I’m six and one half years old. Uncle Yoongi—sorry, my Best Uncle gave me all these tapes and this recorder thing for Christmas because he said I’d like them more than his attic did. He’s right. He’s right a lot which is why he’s my best uncle.

Haru: Okay, hmmm. What else?

Haru: Oh, yeah. It’s New Years, which I already said, but this year I get to stay up all the way to midnight if I don’t fall asleep. Mommy has a bunch of fancy snacks and Uncle Jin made a really big pot of noodles that boiled over everywhere and made a mess, but Mommy didn’t even yell at him. That’s because Dad gave her a hug. So she just made him clean them up and even smiled at him.

Haru: louder, talking fast- That’s right, I can tell you this. I have a dad now! -bedsprings bounce- I like having a dad a lot. I liked Taehyung so much I didn’t think I really needed a dad anymore, but now, guess what! Taehyung is my dad! Isn’t that crazy? I like Taehyung as my dad even more than I liked him when he was just Taehyung and Mommy likes it too. I know because she told me. And also I can tell because she’s sparkly now, like her eyes and her smiles and stuff are all sparkly. It’s a little bit gross but mostly just good.

Haru: And I got Taehyung as my dad for Christmas! I didn’t think Santa could do that, cuz he mostly just does toys and stuff, but he read my letter and said he’d think about it, and then on Christmas we opened presents and Taehyung put one of the ripped-off bows on his head and said I wasn’t done with presents yet. I thought he was being silly but he wasn’t. And then Mommy said they’re going to be like a mom and dad together, and he can be my dad if I want him to. And I did want him to! It was exactly like what I wrote! And then Taehyung said I can pick what I want to call him, like if I wanted to say Appa or Pa or Daddy or Father. But I wanted a dad for a really long time so I picked just Dad.

Haru: What else.

Haru: Um, I got a new leg! That wasn’t for Christmas though, that was a long time ago. But I went to the hospital and got to meet Dr. Jaemin there, he’s really funny and can draw really good, and he’s got a helper named Mr. Jeno that’s like Taehyung a little bit. And Dr. Jaemin cut my leg apart and put it in a brace which we had to turn every day, even when it hurt, but it made my leg longer so that it’s as long as my other leg. And I had to do exercises every day, like this—rustling and huffing—to make the muscles stretch out long enough too. But I’m done with the exercises too now.

Knocking, indistinct talking from the door. Haru rolls off the bed and thuds on the floor.

Haru: Okay, Homer, I’ve got to go take pictures. I’ll turn you back on when I think up more stuff to say.

Clicking. Tape keeps recording as footsteps go down the hall and background noise gets a lot louder.

A man’s voice with the slightest lisp: Haru, can you put your tape recorder over there? It will show up in the pictures.

Haru: Okay, Uncle Jay.

Tape recorder thuds, still recording.

A woman’s voice: Come here, baby. Let’s get this over with.

Uncle Jay: If you’d just smile for once you’d be done right away.

The woman, strained: I am smiling.

Haru: Mommy, that’s scary. You have to also make your eyes sparkly.

Mommy, outraged: How can I make my eyes sparkly? Do you hear this? Hobi, back me up, man.

A slightly nasal male voice: I'm innocent! Don't drag me into this. Laughter.

A deep smooth male voice: I’ve got an idea, but Haru has to close his eyes.

Haru: Why?

The deep voice: Emma, can I?

Smooch noise.

Haru: Daa-aaad!

Collective whoops and shouts from the uncles. Uncle Jay can be heard muttering and clicking a camera shutter amidst the chaos.

Dad: What? It’s fixed. Sparkly eyes, just like you wanted, kiddo.

Haru: But I didn’t get my eyes shut first!

Dad: Ooops. Well, it’s your turn anyway.

Smooch noises. The uncles laughs. Haru shrieks and the camera whirrs.

Haru, indignant: Ew, Mommy and Dad! I’m too big for kisses! Just kiss each other!

Mommy: Careful, baby. That sounds an awful lot like permission.

Smooch noise.

Haru: Aww, man! That’s disgusting. Are we done yet, Uncle Jay?

Uncle Jay: None of you have smiled at the camera yet, so I’m gonna say no.

Shuffling around.

Mommy: Okay, just take it.

Uncle Jay: Low battery? muttering Low battery right now? in an accent I can’t believe you’ve done this.

Footsteps approach the tape recorder. Someone taps on the table next to it.

Uncle Yoongi: Haru, did you want this on?

Haru: I turned it off already.

Uncle Yoongi chuckles gently. Tape recorder clicks off.

*end of recording*

Chapter Text

"Sweet Chaos" – Day6

The title of and the song Haru sings in the opening chapter. It’s a sweet, playful song about how love makes you feel out of control and it fits Emma’s inner monologue at the beginning of the story.

"Ulijima" – Jessi

I think Emma could blast this song instead of trying to explain herself to Hobi at any given moment. Also, every group that has a cameo in the fic has a song on the playlist and I’m starting with Jessi because the vibes are impeccable with her, always.

Wrecked – Imagine Dragons

This one is for Emma and Tyler. I like to think she’s moved past some of what’s described in the lyrics, but it will be a long time before it doesn’t haunt her.

"Brother" – Home Free

I don’t know why this song = friendship in my head, but it’s for the boys. I had so much fun giving Emma the bestest friends in the world. I think this one represents her relationship with different ones of them in different parts of the lyrics and it feels so solid and comforting to me.

"Hello My Old Heart" – The Oh Hellos

I feel like this one doesn’t need an explanation? but it’s practically line by line a description of what Emma’s feeling, especially in chapter 15 (titled the same).

"Christmas Tree" – V

Working with V’s solo songs that we had at the time I was writing, this one makes the most sense for the story. I especially think the lyrics, “I tell you/ a million tiny things that/ you have never known/It all gets tangled up inside” are perfect for how Tae and Emma’s relationship grows.

"The Rose" – Keala Settle

I have a bad habit of taking love songs and hearing them as more platonic or familial than romantic. I think this time I’m justified. This one’s for Emma and Haru, and I picture Emma singing this song to Haru as a lullaby.

"Here Always" (Seungmin of Stray Kids) – Stray Kids

I have no idea which drama this OST is from and do not care. I just like it. For someone who was abandoned it feels like the right way to comfort, and the lyrics are so pretty too.

"A Whiter Shade of Pale" – Procol Harum

Taehyung played this while driving on one of his solo vlogs and I thought it would be funny to include it for no other reason. Only after I put it on the playlist and listened to it on repeat for an embarrassingly long time did I realize the chorus has lyrics similar to Emma’s own stress reaction. Since her recognition of that same stress reaction in Tae is why she initially hears him out, I guess my subconscious is smarter than I am and knew I needed this song to fully complete my playlist, facetiously or not.

"On the way" – NCT DREAM

The Dreamies make great driving music. I picture this song as one that comes over the radio when Emma, Taehyung, and Haru are driving to the beach in Chapter 30.

"Scientist" – Twice

Jin 100% sings a cover of this to Emma at some point to tease her about Tae.

"It’s Definitely You" – V, Jin

Desperately trying to get more of Taehyung’s smooth vocals in this playlist, and also this song is a Bop. The lyrics are so over-the-top that again, I figure it may be sung at some point teasingly.

"Magic" – TOMORROW X TOGETHER

Doesn’t every love feel a little like magic? There are no hybrids in reality, but at the risk of being sickeningly cheesy, magic is as real as the relationships you build. I went through a lot of TXT’s discography before I found this song and it’s worked its way into my personal favorites as well.