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thefinalcinderella · 5 years

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Tsurune Book 2 Chapter 4-Unsolicited Statement (Part 1)

To all the people who sent me messages the past month: I swear I will answer them tomorrow!

Glossary here

Full list of translations here

Translation Notes

1. The word used here is sanpaku, a Japanese term referring to when the whites above or below the iris are visible. The literal translation here is “having a sanpaku with all his strength” but since that makes no sense I had to do some creative interpretation

2. I believe this refers back to the first chapter of Book 1 when Minato mistakes Masa-san for a ghost or zombie. Yokai has a lot of different meanings (since there’s so many types of them) including ghost or spirit, so that’s why Minato told everyone to forget what he just said, probably

3. This is a real game. It’s the Japanese version of the Game of Life

4. Minamoto no Tametomo (1139-1170) was a samurai with many legends, such as sinking an entire ship by shooting a single arrow into its hull and having a left arm that was four inches longer than the right one so he had a longer draw

5. If you read/watched Chihayafuru you’ll probably be familiar with the Ogura Hyakunin Isshu, which are one hundred classic poems by one hundred poets.

6. This is poem 77 by Emperor Sutoku. I used the translation here

7. Shugendou is an old religion that combines Shinto, Buddhism, local practices, etc. Apparently they train in mountains a lot

8. Altair and Vega, aka Cowherd and Weaver Girl or Hikoboshi and Orihime, are the two stars involved involved in the Tale of Cowherd and Weaver Girl, which Tanabata is centered around. The tale involves two lovers separated by the Milky Way who could only meet each other on the seventh day of the seventh month by crossing a bridge of magpies

9. You’ve probably seen this in various anime, like MHA, but a cavalry battle or chicken fight is where a team with one person is carried by three people have to take headbands from the other teams

10. The school year in Japan starts in April and ends in March, so anyone born between April and March of the next year would be in the same grade, so even though Ryouhei is born in February he is one year younger than the other boys

11. The original combined guuguu neru (which means sleeping soundly or snoring as you sleep) and schlafen. I debated whether to keep it like that or not before deciding to translate it

12. Egg drop soup is a Chinese dish of chicken broth with wispy beaten egg

13. See Chapter 2 of Book 1 for this incident

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Nanao grandly stretched towards the sky that signaled the end of the rainy season.

He was in the corridor on the third floor of the school building. As he walked, girls followed him in succession, and the other students trembled and gave way to them. Thanks to Shuu arriving at Kazemai High School a few days ago, the Nanao Fan Club was not able to admire Nanao in hakama, and they were falling into a state of starvation. Perhaps because of that reaction, he was more surrounded by girls than ever, and the boys, who felt nothing but animosity, made sour faces. However, there was a way to deal with this.

“Thanks for waiting, Kacchan!”

When he opened the classroom door and shouted that, there was Kaito, who made impressive sanpaku eyes. (1)

“I’m not a little kid, so stop coming to get me. We can go to club by ourselves, at least.”

“But Kacchan, weren’t you the one who said not to be late?”

“Good grief, what a pain.”

When Kaito stood from his seat, the girls surrounding Nanao left, scattering in all directions.

The power of the Kaito Barricade was immense. The fact that Kaito won’t sit back when it came to Nanao was a lesson etched into the bodies of those who adored and idolized Nanao. But, because he could also drove away the undesirable suitors—in other words, the girls who were secretly acting before the others—they maintained a reasonable distance as to not wake the sleeping gatekeeper.

How dependable. That kind of skill was not something one resolved to try to learn.

However, Nanao felt a little sorry.

“Nanao. Kaito-kuuun. You guys are early!”

Ryouhei ran up to them with a smile. By chance, he also met up with Minato and Seiya, and so the five walked to the kyudojo together.

Minato, who had a bandage around his left wrist, was chipper, raised his left hand as he was walking and made his tenouchi in mid-air. Similarly, Ryouhei was also pretending to shoot a bow. Seiya and Kaito kept watchful eyes on the two, who were both in a state of impatience for not being able to draw a bow sooner, so they would not get in anyone’s way. It was a charming scene with a fine combination of people, but Nanao’s heart was not there.

Because, recently, there were “footsteps” coming from an empty room in Nanao’s house.

On the second floor, there were sounds, as though a child was running lightly.

——Tap, tap, tap, tap.

Three years ago, they moved to their current house. For their parents, it was their dream home, and for Nanao and his three-years-younger sister, it was a newly built, beautiful home with large bedrooms. Their school districts changed by moving, and he and Kaito ended up going to different middle schools, but the distance between their houses hadn’t changed much and it was a comfortable home.

However, for the past few months it had become possible to hear footsteps. Although they hadn’t been deciding on a time, there were many instances of the inside of the house falling completely silent. It couldn’t be called a boast, but neither Nanao nor his parents had any psychic powers at all. They could not tell any experiences like seeing ghosts or talking to time travellers. And yet, everyone in his family had been hearing those footsteps. Thanks to that, it was a bit scary to stay home alone.

When he talked about it during their break in club practice, the girls covered their mouths with their hands.

“Uwah, scary!”

“Isn’t that really dangerous?”

Seiya mimicked Nanao’s tone.

“…There’s footsteps coming from an empty room, you know? On the second floor, there’re sounds, like a little kid is running lightly… Tap, tap, tap, tap…”

“Stop——!”

“Takehaya-kun, you’re awful—!”

Seiya gave a little chuckle.

“Sorry. But, what is that phenomenon, really? There’s also the possibility of rats, tanukis, or weasels.”

Nanao shook his head.

“Nope. We called someone to check to see whether or not there are small animals settling in the attic, but there was nothing unusual.”

“Is that so, hmm.”

Minato, quietly listening to everyone talk, muttered just a few words.

“A little kid’s footsteps…that sounds like a zashiki-warashi…”

“Zashiki-warashi…that’s the yokai that looks like a child and brings luck to those who see it, right?”

“Ah, no, forget what I said!”

At the word “yokai”, Minato hurriedly withdrew his remark. Beside him, Masa-san was holding back a laugh. (2)

Ryouhei’s eyes were sparkling.

“Awesome! Having a zashiki-warashi live with you is the best. I wanna meet it too! I wish one would come to my place as well.”

Hearing that, Kaito wrinkled his brow.

“Ryouhei, aren’t you no good with spirits?”

“Nah. I hate ghosts, but I like yokai.”

“Once again, the distinction between what you like and don’t like is practically nonexistent. How are they different?”

“They’re completely different. Ghosts are scary, but I want to be friends with yokai.”

“Yeah, I don’t get it at all.”

Next to Kaito, whose brow wrinkle was getting deeper and deeper, Nanao was thinking.

I see, so there is also that kind of explanation. If I think that, then those footsteps aren’t scary.

They’re lucky footsteps.

If that’s the case, let’s warmly welcome our sudden visitor.

A corner of Nanao’s mouth lifted.

The next day, the place Ryouhei headed for was a large estate surrounded by white walls.

Even when standing before the gate, the only thing that could be seen was a single path leading to the forest, and the essential residence could not be seen anywhere. Ryouhei could not hide his surprise at how a place like this was owned by one person.

“What a huge place. I wonder if this is the intercom?”

Ryouhei pressed the button.

“Sorry for how sudden this is. This is Yamanouchi Ryouhei from Kazemai High School speaking. Is Fujiwara Shuu-kun at home?”

“——Please excuse me, but have you made an arrangement with him?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“——I am afraid I must decline visits from those who have not made arrangements beforehand. I am sorry.”

“I understand.”

Ryouhei hummed while he walked along the white wall.

When Shuu returned home that evening, the butler, Toujou, was waiting for him. He seemed somewhat agitated.

“Yamanouchi—Ryouhei came here?”

“Yes. As he had been waiting before the gate for a long time, I allowed him to enter, based on my judgement. Please forgive me.”

“No, it’s no problem.”

“And, there is another matter. To tell the truth, I, Toujou, unintentionally succumbed to my youthful impulses… That young man is quite strong. I was overwhelmingly defeated.”

“Defeated?”

Toujou was speaking in an unusually roundabout way. In the first place, it was the first time he showed in a guest without confirming with him. Shuu opened the door to the guest room.

The room was decorated with a bamboo for Tanabata that was so tall it almost reached the ceiling. A single table was placed in the center of the room, and sitting in front of it was Ryouhei, who grinned at Shuu from ear-to-ear when he noticed him. He could practically see the illusion of a tail wagging back and forth. What’s more, to his surprise, even his little sister Sae and his mother were there.

Shuu felt vertigo and pressed his hand to his forehead.

“Shuu-niisama, welcome home!”

“…What are all of you having so much fun with?”

“It’s a board game, Shuu-niisama. Sae has made a lot of children!”

“Children?”

Sae showed him a Japanese board game with the slogan, “Life has many ups and downs. Aim to be a billionaire!” (3) His grandfather left it to him as a present when he was young. You spun a roulette and advanced your piece by the number of spaces you got, and aimed for the goal indicated on whichever space you landed on. The pieces were in the shape of automobiles, and pins of people were inserted into the seats, but as children were born, the number of pins riding in the car also increased. Sae’s car piece was full.

“Will Shuu-niisama be joining us next?”

“No, please, the four of you should continue on like this.”

At Shuu, who declined, Ryouhei grinned meaningfully.

“In that case, I guess you don’t feel like beating me?”

“…Alright. Let’s do this.”

After the game began, toy banknotes went flying. Thirty minutes later, the winning order was decided with Shuu’s mother in first, followed by Sae, Ryouhei, Toujou, and Shuu. Shuu could not accept himself being in last place, but it felt fresh having those faces surround the table. Afterwards, they played many other games, and then took dinner together. When the meal was finished, Sae was completely attached to Ryouhei.

Ryouhei sat next to Sae on the couch, and showed her something on his phone. It was the figure of Shuu drawing his bow at Kazemai High School.

“Shuu-niisama is so amazing! He looks so heroic!”

“For the Japanese bow, there aren’t only two choices of hitting or missing, and hitting correctly is in itself incredibly hard. Shuu-kun is super amazing. He is already a god.”

Shuu’s mother put a slim finger to her mouth.

“Well, I had thought that getting the highest score comes from hitting the centre of the target…”

Sae grasped Ryouhei’s hand.

“Shuu-niisama doesn’t talk about it at all. He told us not to come and cheer him on.”

“Hey, Sae.”

“Isn’t it okay? Ryouhei-san, could you please give me this picture?”

“Gladly.”

Sae borrowed her mother’s phone and took Shuu’s picture, then gently hugged it close.

“Well then, I also have a gift. Please write on it by time you go home and tie it on the tree.”

A strip of paper for Tanabata was placed in Ryouhei’s hand.

Shuu and Ryouhei moved to Shuu’s room.

The sight of his always prim mother swinging from joy to sorrow was strange and lovely. It had been a long time since he had heard his mother’s laughter from up close.

“Sorry about that, Sae said something unreasonable.”

“Not at all. Your mom is really pretty. As expected of a parent and child, you really look a lot like her.”

Shuu was shocked.

“…Where do you think we are alike?”

“When we were getting in the bath at the hotel we were staying at for the regional tournament, I saw you washing your hair, but I think it’s around the nape of your neck or behind your ears, like, the back of your head.”

“The ‘back of our heads’ are alike…?”

“Yeah, exactly alike. When you and Sae-chan and your mom are together, you really get the sense of, 'This is the bloodline.’”

At Ryouhei, who stated that so definitively, Shuu burst into laughter. Normally, when people said that they were alike, it was their eyes, voice, way of speaking, and other traits like that. That unexpected answer was unbearably funny.

He felt like that even if he and Ryouhei were standing in the same place, the scenery they both saw would be different. Ryouhei’s everyday was brimming with new discoveries, and it was brightly coloured.

“By the way, what kind of business did you have here, Ryouhei?”

“That’s right. I wanted to repay you for lending me your arrow.”

Ryouhei handed him an amulet.

“It’s from a shrine famous for the guardian of sports and Emperor Sutoku, but the god of improvement in kyudo is also enshrined there. My dad had a business trip so I asked him to get me one. You’re also matching with Minato and the other guys.”

“Thank you. This will encourage me.”

Shuu accepted the small pouch.

When it came to historical archery masters, the name of Nasu no Yoichi, who shot through a fan on a ship during the Genpei War, would come foremost to mind, but the person who was deified at the shrine was Minamoto no Tametomo, the eighth son of Tameyoshi and military commander during the Heian era who was said to have used a powerful bow and was unparalleled. Legendary tales of him, such as him being a giant who was over two meters tall and his left arm being longer than his right arm, and that it took five people to string his bow, remained through the ages. (4)

On the other hand, Emperor Sutoku was the seventy-fifth emperor, and famous as one of the poets for the Ogura Hyakunin Isshu. (5)

Though a swift stream is

Divided by a boulder

In its headlong flow,

Though divided, on it rushes,

And at last unites again. (6)

——The flow of a river is swift, and even if it is blocked by a rock and divided, I believe I will definitely meet with you——.

This poem was regarded as a love poem, and it still attracted the hearts of many women even now. It seemed that the feeling of longing for someone remained unchanged in any age.

Thought was humanity itself.

It was something brought into existence by people.

People were always thinking something. They were creatures who could not stop thinking.

Practitioners of Shugendou (7) meditate and become ascetics as a means to suppress the “thoughts” which were brought about by people, in order to reach the level of the gods and Buddha. By casting away worldly thoughts, which were part of a wicked heart, with the chanting of sutras and the relentless sounds of waterfalls, and by being forced to concentrate intensely under the circumstances of being side-by-side with death, one would recall the bodily intuitions which were naturally endowed humans, as living things.

Words were thinking itself. Those who were able to not think of anything without training to do so were probably babies who had yet to learn words, people who were sleeping, and the dead.

Reaching the level of the gods?

Babies and the dead—— ?

The wind that came dancing in from the window blew through Shuu’s and Ryouhei’s hair.

“Ryouhei…I can see it now. I found the hidden door…”

“Hidden door? Where is it?”

“You can also find it. Follow me, I’ll be waiting.”

“Shuu-kun, don’t say difficult things like that. I don’t really understand, but okay.”

Ryouhei laughed lightly, carefreely.

Let’s open that door.

A spiral staircase leading upwards is there.

A staircase that has the same shape as DNA. Inherited memories.

To the place we must aim for.

To where light is shining——.

Before he went home, Ryouhei tied the strip of paper, on which he had written, “Family trip to the southern islands”, to the bamboo.

“Shuu-kun, what did you write?”

“Nothing. Just my name.”

“Oh, so it’s a wish only the other person knows. Mm, I hope it comes true.”

Shuu smiled gently.

In his head, Ryouhei recited the words Sae whispered into his ear when she gave him the paper.

“This is kept a secret from Shuu-niisama, but when you write your wish here, it is not Altair-sama and Vega-sama who grants it, but Father——.” (8)

After his committee meeting, Nanao went to the kyudojo by himself. There were only a few scattered signs of people in the school, probably because most students were either already going to club activities or going home.

With the Nanao Fan Club no longer shadowing him, Nanao regained his everyday life. There were still the sounds of a child’s footsteps at his house, but it was charming if he thought of it as the mischief of a zashiki-warashi. With this, he was able to concentrate on practicing until the national tournament in August.

As he was walking in the hallway with a light gait, some people who were passing by deliberately bumped into him.

They were three third-year boys.

“Oh, sorry. No girls today, Nanao-sama?”

“You’re going to club now? Kyudo doesn’t suit a shallow guy like you at all. Or are you aimin’ for a university sports recommendation spot? Doesn’t seem like you’d have a lot of rivals for kyudo. Maybe I should do it too!”

“What about Kacchan?”

“Kacchaaaan!”

Nanao clenched his fists behind his back before the third-year boys whose faces were distorted in loud laughter.

Don’t say my cousin’s name with your filthy mouths——.

He wanted to say that.

He wanted to punch them hard.

However, if he caused trouble here, he would be playing into his opponents’ hands. If Nanao caused a problem, he would then not be able to go to the national tournament. Because their own activities for their future courses were going badly, they were looking for an unwitting scapegoat. At their cores, they were not dissatisfied with the other person, but irritation at themselves for not being able to study for university entrance exams, even though they thought they must do it.

“Yo, Nanao-chan, why so quiet?”

It happened when one of them roughly grabbed Nanao’s collar, and Nanao glared back at him. Someone ran in from ahead of his field of vision and tackled Nanao.

Ryouhei held Nanao, carried him over his shoulder, and ran away as they were. At this extremely sudden event, the left behind third-year boys stood still, open-mouthed.

Nanao was carried on Ryouhei’s shoulder, folded in half around his waist, until they passed through the hallway.

“…Ryouhei, could you put me down soon? There’s a lot of pressure on my stomach and it hurts, and blood is rushing to my head.”

“Oh, sorry.”

Nanao stretched his body with a sigh after he was dropped onto the ground. He had often been the one to ride on top in cavalry battles (9), but being a high schooler and getting shouldered like a sack of rice was proof that one never knew what was going to happen in life.

After he fixed his disheveled hair, he looked at Ryouhei and saw that he was frowning.

“I went to get something I forgot in the classroom, but does that kind of thing happen a lot? Why did you stay quiet even though they said all that to you?”

“It’s not like I don’t understand their feelings. We were walking in a big group and I guess it was an eyesore. Since a long time ago, I’ve been raved about by girls, which means that I’m trashed by the boys. I guess I’m, like, used to it.”

“Don’t get used to that kind of thing. It makes me sad.”

“Ryouhei��”

“So, I’ll listen instead. Tell me all about it, Nanao.”

Ryouhei’s earnest eyes pierced through Nanao.

The reason why so many people could not refuse Ryouhei’s requests was probably because rather than it being Ryouhei’s own desire, he seemed to have read the other person’s mind. He correctly guessed the hidden wish that the person concerned had not even noticed themselves. And, Ryouhei did not notice it either.

“I see, mm. Alright, then can I complain for a bit?”

Nanao opened his mouth wide.

“If you want to complain, come tell me one by one, not in a group! And, who the hell’s putting trash in my shoe cupboard and desk! Don’t do this sneaky, petty harassment. Don’t freakin’ underestimate me just because I’m short!”

“Yep, yep…hmm? Short?”

“While I’m at it, I’ll tell you this too. Even though you were born after me, why the hell did you grow so much taller! It’s unfair, you know!”

Ryouhei was born in February. (10) He scratched his head.

“I guess it’s because I do bouldering at the community center and I hang down? Also, maybe it’s because I sleep a lot. Since you aren’t conscious when you’re sleeping, the energy used by my brain might have been used for growing.”

“They do say that a sleeping child grows well. I’ll sleep a lot from now on too.”

“Yeah, sleep, sleep!”

“In German, sleeping is ’schlafen’, so combine it with 'snoring’, (11) and let’s call sleeping a lot 'snorefen’.”

“I want to snorefen?”

“Let us snorefen?”

The two clutched their stomachs as they laughed. If Hanazawa, Shiragiku, and Seo were there, they would probably have no idea what was so funny. The dumb conversations of boys were undecipherable codes to girls.

“That’s right, Ryouhei. Listen to one more thing I have to say.”

Nanao winked.

The area, which had undergone land readjustment, brought to mind the image of a Northern European townscape. The roadside trees were still young, and houses with the newest designs stood in rows.

Ryouhei was standing before Nanao’s house. The other Kazemai kyudo boys were also carrying supermarket bags in addition to their own luggage.

Nanao’s parents’ hobby was overseas travel. Moreover, they were free-spirited backpackers who loved budget travelling without knowing their whereabouts. On that day as well, they left without advance notice, and since his sister was staying at a friend’s house, Nanao was staying at home by himself. When Ryouhei heard about that, the first thing that came out of his mouth was,

“Let’s go meet the zashiki-warashi!”

And so, under the guise of a study meeting, this halfway test of courage was held.

Ryouhei tied the strings of his apron and took out foodstuff from the bags. He was responsible for the arrangement of the salad. Minato wrapped dumpling wrappers around the ingredients with practiced movements. Surprisingly, Kaito was also good at wrapping dumplings. Nanao and Seiya finished deep-frying the chicken and making the egg drop soup (12), respectively.

“Seiya, could it be that we’re really good at cooking?”

“Yep. I think we can probably live on our own right away.”

They sat at the table, and then Minato removed the lid of the hot plate. The room was filled with the smell of dumplings. They stretched out their chopsticks as though to say, “Finally!”

“Ittadakimaaaasu. Whoa, it’s really tasty! This is super good!”

Ryouhei was vigorously stuffing his cheeks, and Nanao also looked satisfied.

“How about that fried chicken and dumplings? There’s no way the zashiki-warashi wouldn’t come out if we make it smell such a nice smell, right?”

“Let’s set some aside for it. It’ll be disappointed if we have nothing for it, even though it took the trouble of coming here.”

Kaito spoke.

“You guys actually believe in it? Isn’t it just Nanao being scared?”

“And yet, didn’t you stop coming to my house for a while when you heard about the kid’s footsteps, Kacchan?”

“Shut up,” Kaito said, then gulped down his Oolong tea.

After they finished eating, they played games in the room. Nanao’s house was well-equipped with game consoles ranging from stationary to portable, and the number of games was impressive as well. They took turns entering the bath, and gamed until it was late.

They got tired of talking and soon decided to enter their futons. After they laid out their futons out in the guest room on the first floor, Ryouhei threw himself down, lying spread-eagled.

“The zashiki-warashi didn’t show up at all.”

“We might have been too noisy. If anything, there are lots of times when it’s quiet. I guess it’ll be a game once we enter our futons.”

They lowered their voices and waited for that time to come. However, even after one hour, there was not one sound. Before they knew, all five of them fell asleep.

Suddenly, Ryouhei woke up. He saw that it was still the middle of the night from his phone that was next to his pillow. Nanao, who should have been sleeping next to him, was not there. He wondered if he went to the washroom, but he never returned. Ryouhei left the room that was filled with the sounds of sleep.

He stood down the stairs and saw light coming from the second floor. He climbed the stairs, as though drawn in by the light.

He peeked into the room where the light was coming from, but there was no one there. The window was left open, and the night sky spread out outside the window. Wondering if it was carelessness after all, he entered the room to close the window. When he placed his hand on it, there was a sudden voice.

“Oh, don’t close it.”

When he poked his head out the window, he saw Nanao sitting on the roof of the first floor.

“What are you doing?”

Nanao pointed up at the sky.

“Look, a sky full of stars.”

“Can I join you?”

“Sure.”

Ryouhei sat next to Nanao on the roof. It was chilly and the soles of his feet were cool.

It was a starry night.

A star fell soundlessly.

Moonlit nights were nice, but nights where the moon was hidden were also special. The tiny stars that couldn’t be seen normally twinkled. Words failed him before that beautiful sight.

Ryouhei sighed.

“Is Kacchan sleeping?”

“Yep.”

“Good. He’s the one who’s scared, so I was wondering if he was too afraid to sleep.”

“Nanao, could it be that you’re Kaito’s guardian?”

“What, no way, too much work. Ryouhei, what’s your wish for the zashiki-warashi?”

“A family trip.”

“Ooh, that sounds nice. Like to a hot spring?”

“…My sister is timid, so she can’t leave the house. She’s been shutting herself in our house for a long time.”

“…Huh?”

Ryouhei looked up at the night sky.

“My sister is kind, smart, and athletic—a sister I can really brag about, but apparently there are people who hate that. At the school she transferred to, there was an unspoken understanding to not stand out more than so-and-so, but she didn’t realize that and did her best for everything. That’s why she ended up not going to school anymore.”

“Is that so… That’s terrible.”

“She found the ’Kaeru kerokerote e pero kero’ you taught me really funny. (13) You’re a genius at words that goes down well with her.”

“Well, as expected of the great me.”

“But, sometimes I can’t understand her. She says she doesn’t want to see me, and yet when I leave home for competitions, she orders me to call her… I don’t get her at all.”

“Oh, that’s because she spoils you. I think that if you try talking a bit selfishly to her, she would be relieved… Though if you try to test another person like that, they might leave instead.”

“She spoils me? No way. I’m worried if I did anything to make her hate me, but in the end, I can’t do anything.”

“I don’t think she hates you at all, in fact, I think she loves you. It’s really reassuring to have someone by your side.”

“I wonder about that…”

“You can bet on that, because I said it. Believe in me, 'kay?”

Nanao said, shining brilliantly with his back against the stars.

It was as though he was being told that by a prince. If the girls from the fan club were there, they probably would have swooned.

“Yeah. You’re Nanao-sama, after all.”

“That’s right. And, since you listened to me talk about my stuff the other day, next time, tell me more about anything that’s going on with you, like about your sister.”

“…Okay.”

He was wondering if he really had to talk about his sister, but Nanao listened to him without making fun or turning too serious and gloomy. Minato and Seiya knew about it, and that was precisely why he never mentioned her with them. He wanted the image of her in their minds to be as cool as she used to be.

When I meet with everyone, I’m so happy, I have so much fun, and I can’t help but feel pumped.

Right after the two brought their faces together and smiled, a boy with the face of a Deva king appeared.

“Hey, what the hell are you guys talking about in the middle of the night?”

“Kacchan!”

Kaito crossed over the window frame and sat between Nanao and Ryouhei.

“It’s pretty cold here. You guys need to get to bed soon.”

“But what are you doing, getting up in the middle of the night, Kacchan?”

“The two of you were gone when I woke up, so of course I would have to come and see what’s going on.”

“Pretty sure you woke up because you were scared, though.”

It happened when Nanao squinted.

——Tap, tap, tap, tap.

Footsteps.

The three exchanged glances.

“I could really hear the footsteps! So cool!”

“Isn’t it just someone who got up?” Kaito said.

“No, that’s definitely the sound of a little kid running!” Nanao said.

Ryouhei turned towards the house and placed his hands together.

“Zashiki-warashi-chan, please grant my wish!”

Nanao and Kaito also placed their hands together. Nanao sent a glance at Kaito.

“You have a wish too, Kacchan?”

“No, I’m just doing it because I got dragged into this.”

“Whaaaaat, that’s such a waste.”

“And what are you wishing for?”

“…It’s a secret.”

——Tap, tap, tap, tap.

The footsteps came again.

Right when Nanao and Kaito closed their mouths, somebody’s voice leaked from next door.

“Kou-chan, no running inside the house! It’s the middle of the night!”

The three looked at each other.

——The true identity of the zashiki-warashi is Kou-chan!?

The baby from the house next door, who still couldn’t walk yet when they moved there, had started walking, and it had only been the sound of the baby running around in the house that travelled into the adjoining Nanao’s house. He never knew that sounds from next door could be heard so well in wooden houses.

The three stared at each other for a minute, and then Nanao and Ryouhei burst into laughter, unable to hold it in any longer.

“What the hell were we doing, making our wishes to 'Kou-chan…’ Isn’t it one in the morning right now? Why is a little kid getting up so late at night?”

“I heard that babies are still bad at sleeping, so they inadvertently go to bed in the evening and get really energetic at night. But I can’t help it, this is too funny…”

Ryouhei couldn’t stop crying from laughter, and Kaito was too amazed to say anything.

In the end, Minato and Seiya also got up, and they also went up to the roof.

The five gazed at the starry sky for a long while.

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#tsurune #tsurune translation

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ktaebwi · 6 years

Text

Hwa Yang Yeon Hwa The Notes (Tear) - Full Translation

KRN - ENG © ktaebwi Do not use for commercial purpose. Credit properly when reposting & re-translating. Do not repost PDF file.

Download PDF: MF | Dropbox

T/N: - The below translation is for Hwa Yang Yeon Hwa The Notes, a fictional work, part of BU (BTS Universe) published by Bighit Entertainment and comes with ‘LOVE YOURSELF ‘轉’ Tear’ album. - The notes are the same for all versions except for the right entries of some members in each version. Y - Yoongi, Jimin, O - Hoseok, Taehyung, U - Namjoon, Jungkook, R - Seokjin. - In Namjoon’s entries, the sibling mentioned is a younger sibling, however the gender is not mentioned.

Seokjin 30 August YEAR 22

Can anyone remember the moment love starts? Can anyone foresee the moment love ends? What meaning lies behind the incapability of humanity to perceive those moments? And for what reason was I given the power to undo all of them?

The car came to a sudden stop, the headlight flashed, the car crashed, she was thrown upward , she fell. In the midst of all those chaotic moments, I just stood defenselessly. I heard no sound, felt no sense. It was summer but the wind felt chilly. Something rolled down along the road, making sound on its way. And then there was the smell of flower. It was when reality hit me. The Smeraldo bouquet fell out of my hand. The girl was in the middle of the road some distance away. Blood was seeping through her hair. Dark crimson blood, flowing down along the road. I thought. If only I could turn back time.

Seokjin 17 July YEAR 20

Outside the school entrance, the sound of crickets prickled in my ears. The school yard was crowded with kids laughing, joking around, racing with each other. It was the start of the summer holiday, everyone was excited. I lowered my head and walked through them. I just wanted to leave the school quickly.

“Hyung.” I lifted my head up out of surprise as someone’s silhouette popped out. It was Hoseok and Jimin. They were smiling brightly, looking at me with eyes beaming with mischief, just like usual. “It’s summer holiday today, are you just going to leave like that?” Hoseok pulled my arm and said. I just replied “Yeah yeah”, uttered some more meaningless words and then turned away. What happened that day was just an accident. It wasn’t on purpose. I didn’t think Jungkook and Yoongi would be in the storage classroom at that time. The headmaster suspected I was covering for them. He said he could tell my father that I wasn’t a well-behaved student. I had to say something. I told him about the hideout because I thought it would be empty at the time. But it ultimately led to Yoongi getting expelled. No one knew I was involved.

“Have a good vacation, hyung! I’ll contact you later.” Hoseok stealthily dropped his hold and greeted me more cheerfully on purpose, as if he read something from my face. I gave him no response this time too. There was nothing I could say. Walking out of the school gate, I thought of the day I first went here. I was late and we were punished together. It was why we could laugh. Those moments were ruined by me.

Seokjin 11 April YEAR 22 (R)

The car screeched to a narrow halt. I was too deep in thoughts to notice the traffic lights changed. Students wearing familiar uniforms crossed the road and stared at me through the windshield. Some people were even pointing at me. I tried to laugh and bow.

I knew what I had to do. But it wasn’t like I was not scared. Will I be able to end all of these miseries and pain? Does these repeated failures mean I can never succeed? Does it mean I should give up? Is happiness only false hope to us? Thousands of thoughts flashed through my head.

In no time, I reached the gas station intersection and saw Namjoon pumping fuel some distance away. I took a deep breath in and exhaled. Yoongi, Hoseok, Jimin, Taehyung, Jungkook, I recalled their faces one by one. I changed lanes and drove into the gas station. I couldn’t give up. Even if there is only 1% chance of success, I will never give up. Past the windshield, I saw Namjoon walking towards me.

Yoongi 15 June YEAR 22

I couldn’t perceive anything but the music blasting inside my head. How much I have drunk, where I am, what I was doing. I didn’t want to know, nor did I feel them to be of any importance. When I stumbled outside, the night had already come. I just let my feet take me. Pedestrians, stalls, walls, I just bumped against anywhere. It didn’t matter. I just wanted to forget everything.

Jimin’s voice still rang vividly in my mind. “Hyung. Jungkook.” Next thing I remember, I was running up the hospital stairs like crazy. The hallways in the hospital were strangely dark and long. Passing by were people wearing patient’s clothes. My heart was pounding. Their faces were ghastly pale. They showed no expression, like they were all dead. Inside my head, the sound of my breathing was banging loudly.

Past the slightly opened door of the room lied Jungkook. Unknowingly, I turned my head. I couldn’t look at him. At that moment, the piano sound, the flame, the sound of the building collapsing suddenly came to my ears. I covered my head and flopped down. It said “It’s all because of you.” It said “If only you didn’t exist.” It was my mom’s voice, no, it was my voice, no, it was someone’s voice. Those words tormented me for god knows how long. I wanted to believe that it’s not true. But Jungkook was lying there. Jungkook was lying there in the hall, with people whose faces were pale as dead passing by. I just couldn’t come in. I couldn’t confirm. And so I stood up, legs wobbling. As I came back out, my tears fell. Funny. I didn’t remember what was the last time I cried.

I turned around at someone grabbing my arm when I was about to cross the road. Who was it? No, it didn’t matter. Anyone was the same. Don’t come near me. Go. Please just leave me alone. I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want to get hurt. So please, just don’t come near me.

Yoongi 19 September YEAR 16

The flames blazed with a scarlet red. Until this morning, the house I lived in was devoured by the fire. People who recognized me approached me and shouted something. Neighbors scurried over. They said the fire truck couldn’t enter because they couldn’t secure an entrance. I stood still.

It was at the end of the summer, autumn was starting. The sky was blue and the air was dry. I didn’t know anything, not what I was supposed to think, not what I was supposed to feel, not what I was supposed to do. And then I thought “Oh, mom.” The next moment, the house collapsed with a thud. The house that had been devoured by the fire, no, now it had become the fire itself, along with the roof, the pillars, the walls, the room I lived in, they collapsed down like a sand castle. I watched them absent-mindedly.

Someone pushed me aside. The said the fire truck came. Someone else grabbed me and asked. They looked me in the eyes and shouted something, but I heard nothing.

“Who’s inside?” I blankly looked at them. “Is your mom inside?” They grabbed my shoulder and shook. Unknowingly, I answered. “No. No one’s inside.” “What are you talking about?” The auntie next door said. “What about your mom? Where’s your mom?” “There’s no one there.” I had no idea what I was saying. Someone pushed and walked past me.

Yoongi 12 June YEAR 19 (Y)

I skipped school and went out, but the truth is I had nowhere to go. It was hot, I had no money, nothing to do. It was Namjoon who suggested going to the sea. The kids seemed excited but I didn’t really feel like going, nor did I hate going. “Do you have any money?” At my words, Namjoon made everyone empty their pockets. Some coins and a few notes. “Then we can’t go”. It was probably Taehyung who said “We could walk”. Namjoon made a face like he’s telling him to think about it and everyone chattered away, laughing and pretending to roll around on the road while walking. I wasn’t in the mood to respond so I just lagged behind. The sun was scorching. It was the middle of the day, not even the trees on the sides could cast any shade and on the road with no sidewalk, cars were passing, leaving clouds of dust behind.

“Let’s go there”. This time, it was Taehyung too. Or was it Hoseok? I wasn’t interested so I didn’t take a good look, but it was one of those two. I had my head lowered, strolling while kicking at the ground, but lifted my head up as I bumped into someone and nearly fell. Jimin was standing nailed to the spot. His face was shaking like he saw something very scary. “Are you okay?” I asked but it seemed like he couldn’t hear me. Where Jimin was staring at stood a “flower arboretum” sign.

“I don’t want to walk.” I heard Jungkook. Sweat was dripping down Jimin’s face. His face was pale like he was about to drop down. What was that? I felt weird. “Park Jimin.” I asked but he didn’t react. I looked up at the sign again.

“It’s so hot. Why would we go to an arboretum? Let’s go to the sea.” I said dully. I didn’t know what kind of place that flower arboretum was, but it felt like we must not go there. I didn’t know why but Jimin looked strange. “We have no money.” Hoseok answered me. “Then let’s walk.” Taehyung added in. “If we just walk to the train station, we’ll make it some way or another.” Namjoon spoke up. “Then we’ll have to skip dinner instead.” Jungkook and Taehyung whined and Seokjin-hyung laughed. After everyone began to head towards the train station, Jimin started moving again. He looked like a small kid walking with his head lowered, shoulders hunching. I looked up at the sign again. Flower arboretum, the five letters were slowing getting further and further away.

Namjoon 13 July YEAR 22

I rested my head against the window. From the library to the gas station, the same commute everyday. Outside the windows passed the sickeningly familiar landscapes. Will I ever escape these landscapes? I felt that it was impossible to predict what would come tomorrow, what I could hope for.

A girl sat few seats in front of me, hair tied back with a yellow rubber band. She raised her shoulders up as if heaving a sigh and sat down. And then she rested her head against the window. We have been studying at the same library and taking the bus at the same station for more than a month. We never talked but we saw the same landscapes, lived the same time and heaved the same sigh. The hair tie was still in the pocket of my pants.

The girl always got off three stops ahead of me. Every time I saw her getting off, I wondered if she would go to to hand out the flyers again. What did she have to go through? What did she have to endure? How much of the hopelessness that is tomorrow would never come, that is there was already no such thing as tomorrow from the start did she feel? I thought.

The girl’s stop was approaching. Someone pressed the stop button and shortly after, passengers stood up from their seats. But the girl wasn’t among them. She stood still in her seat with head resting against the window. Seems like she was sleeping. Should I go and wake her up? I debated for a moment. The bus reached the stop. The girl still remained the same. People got off. The door closed and the bus left.

The girl didn’t wake up once while the bus passed three stops. As I walked to the door, I debated with myself once again. Obviously if I get off, no one would pay attention to the girl. By the time she wakes up, the bus would be far away from where she was supposed to get off. Who knows how more tiring her day would get because of it.

I got off the bus and started walking to the gas station. The bus soon departed and I didn’t look back. I left the hair tie on her bag but that was it. It wasn’t the start nor was it the end. There was nothing from the beginning so there was no reason for anything to happen. So it was nothing at all, I thought.

Namjoon 17 December YEAR 21

People waiting for the first bus rubbed their hands together at the cold wind. I clutched the straps of my bag tightly and looked down to the ground. I tried not to make eye contact with anyone. A country village only two buses stops at a day. The first was approaching from afar.

I followed after people and got on the bus. I didn’t look back. When we’re desperate for something, when we has grabbed hold of it and now the only thing left to do is escaping, there’s one condition. To not look back. The moment we look back, all our efforts will go up in smoke. Looking back is doubting, is lingering attachment and fear. Only after we’re over it can we truly escape.

The bus departed. I had no plan. I wasn’t desperate for anything, not did I grab hold of it and was escaping. It was more like an impromptu getaway. A getaway from my mother’s tired face, my sibling who’s feeling lost, my father’s illness. A getaway from my household situation that’s getting more stressful over time, from my family who insist on sacrifice and peace, from myself who pretended like I knew nothing and resigned, striving to adapt myself, and most of all, from poverty.

If you ask if poverty is a crime, anyone would say it’s not. But is it really not? Poverty eats away so many things. It makes what we used to treasure become nothing. It makes us give up what we could not. It makes us doubt, fear and resign.

Just few hours later, this bus will stop at a familiar stop. One year ago, I didn’t leave any goodbye when I left this place. And now I’m coming back there without any omen or notice. My friends’ faces came up in my mind. I cut contact with all of them. How have they been doing? Will they welcome me? Will we be able to gather and laugh like we used to? Outside, the landscape was rendered invisible by the frosty windows. I slowly moved my fingers above it.

“You must live on.”

Namjoon 22 May YEAR 22 (U)

“We’re just one year apart. No, someone said so. I’m older than him. I know. But he’s not a kid anymore. I’m just saying it’s time for him to do by himself. I got it. I said I got it. No, I’m not angry. Sorry.”

I ended the call and looked down to the ground. The warm sea breeze was sweeping through the pine forest. I felt so suffocated inside, like my heart would explode any second. On the ground mixed with half sand and half ground, the ants were lining up to go somewhere. If someone who’s greater than me in any aspect, physically or symbolically, look, would they see where I am going, know why I am going and how I will end up?

It’s not like I don’t love my parents, nor am I not worried for my sibling. If I can I want to look away, but I’m just me, so clearly that won’t happen. If it happens, what would all these struggles, anger, frustration and this desire to escape mean?

Some distance away, I saw someone from the back, standing nailed to the spot just like I was. It was Jungkook. Jungkook once told me this. “I want to become an adult like you.” I could tell him then. Tell him that I’m not a good adult like he thought, that no, I’m not even an adult. I felt like it would be too cruel to tell him so. I couldn’t tell a young kid couldn’t get the faith, the care and love he deserved that growing older, growing taller and living longer doesn’t make you an adult. I hoped for Jungkook’s future to be kinder to him than mine did, but I couldn’t promise that I would be there to help him. I approached and draped an arm around his shoulder. Jungkook looked up at me.

Hoseok 4 July YEAR 22

I went out to the hallway while waiting for first aid. The hospital hallway was crowded with people walking around even at this time of the night. Water was dripping down from my hair drenched by the rain and sweat. As I shook my hair, her bag fell down. All kinds of miscellaneous stuff spilled out. Coins were rolling, ball pens and towels everywhere. Among them, there was an airplane E-ticket. I picked it up and briefly looked through it.

Then, the doctor called me. It was just a mild concussion, there was nothing big to worry about, the doctor said. A moment later, she came out. “Are you okay?” She said she had a little headache and was about to take her bag back from me. Then she saw the E-ticket sticking out and looked at me. I shifted the bag to the other shoulder, pretending like nothing happened and rushed her to go. When we got to the entrance, it was raining. We stood side by side in front of the door.

“Hoseok-ah”. She called. She looked like she had something to say. “Wait a moment. I’ll go buy an umbrella.” I mindlessly ran in the rain. There was a convenience store not far away. I knew she auditioned for a dance team overseas not long ago. Seeing she already got the airplane ticket, seems like she passed. I didn’t want to hear what she said. I didn’t have the confidence to congratulate her.

Hoseok 23 July YEAR 10

It was after counting to four that I heard the laughing sound like an auditory hallucination. The next moment, a younger version of me passed by, holding someone’s hand. I quickly turned around to look but there were only my classmates staring at me. “Hoseok-ah.” The teacher called my name. And then I realized where I was. I was in class, in the middle of counting the fruits in the textbook. Five, six. I went back to counting but the higher it went, the more my voice shook and my hands started sweating. That memory of mine kept rising up.

I don’t remember my mom’s face from that day. I only remember she gave me a chocolate bar while I was at the amusement park. “Hoseok-ah. Count to ten and open your eyes.” I counted and when I opened my eyes, mom was no longer there. I waited and waited but she never came back. Counting to eight was the last. I only needed to count one more but my voice just wouldn’t come out. My ears rang and my surrounding became blurred. The teacher gestured me to continue. Friends stared at me. I couldn’t remember my mom’s face. It felt like if I count just one more time, she would never go look for me.

I collapsed on the floor.

Hoseok 20 May YEAR 22 (O)

I took Taehyung out of the police station with me. “Thank you for your hard work.” I bowed and shouted loudly, but I didn’t feel so. Taehyung’s house was not far from the police station. If he had lived somewhere far away, would he not need to go in and out of the police station this often? Why did Taehyung’s parents choose a place this close to the police station? The world was so unfair to this kind, soft-hearted kid. I draped an arm around Taehyung’s shoulder, pretended like nothing happened and asked, “Are you hungry?” Taehyung shook his head. “Did the policemen buy you food?” I asked again but Taehyung gave no answer.

We walked in the sun. Cold winds were blowing inside my heart. If this is how I’m feeling, what about Taehyung? How torn and broken must he have felt? Was there even any piece of his heart left? How much pain there was inside him? I couldn’t look at him in the face with those thoughts in mind, so I looked up to the sky instead. An airplane was flying past the dim sunlight. The first time I saw the wounds on Taehyung’s back, it was when we met at Namjoon’s container hideout. Seeing Taehyung laugh so innocently over getting a T-shirt, no one could say anything, but inside a piece of our hearts was broken.

I didn’t have any parent. I had no memory of my dad and memories of my mom were only until I was 7 years old. When it came to wounds about family and childhood, I was never jealous with anyone. People say we must overcome wounds, we must embrace and grow used to them. We must reconcile and forgive in order to live. I couldn’t, not because I didn’t know nor I hated and refused to. Some things just can’t be accomplished through efforts. No one taught us the way. The world gave us new wounds before its knives grew blunt. I know there’s no one without wounds in this world. But why must the wounds be this deep? For what reason do we need them? Why must this happen?

“Hyung, I’m okay. I can go by myself.” Taehyung told me at the crossroad. “I know, kid.” I paid no attention to his words and led the way. “I’m really okay. Look. It’s nothing.” Taehyung smiled. I didn’t answer him. There was no way he was okay. He was far from okay, but if i admit this fact I wouldn’t be able to bear it. I was avoiding it. It had become a habit of mine. Taehyung pull up the hood of his hoodie and started following me. “You’re really not hungry?” I asked Taehyung at the hallway to his house. Taehyung just smiled foolishly and nodded. I watched him walking away from the back and turned around. The hallway he walked on and the path I took on the way back were desolate. The kid and I, we were both alone. I was about to look back when suddenly, my phone rang.

Jimin 4 July YEAR 22

When my senses returned, I was already washing my arm so hard that my skin was threatening to come off. My hands were shaking, breathe coming up and down. Blood was streaming down my arm. In the mirror, I saw my bloodshot eyes. Fragments of what happened earlier came back to me.

Suddenly, I lost focus. I was dancing together with a noona from the dance club when our moves got tangled and we bumped into each other. I tumbled down the rough floor and my arm started bleeding. That moment, I thought back of what happened at the flower arboretum. I thought I was over it but I wasn’t. I had to run away. I had to wash. I had to turn away. The me in the mirror was still that same 8-year-old kid stomping in the rain to run away. And then suddenly I remember. She also fell down with me.

No one was in the practice room. Past the slightly opened door, the rain was beating hard. I saw Hoseokie-hyung running not far away. He was soaked in the rain. I took the umbrella and dashed out. I ran. Eventually, I halted.

There was nothing I could do. All I could was to fall down and make her hurt, tremble at my own injury and leave her there only to belatedly run and stop halfway. I turned around and walked. Rain splattered on my sneakers with each step. Cars’ headlights flashed by. I wasn’t okay. No, I was. It didn’t hurt. This wound was nothing. I was really okay.

Jimin 6 April YEAR 11

I went out to the front gate of the flower arboretum alone. The weather was dull and chilly but I was in a good mood. It was picnic day but both mom and dad were busy. I was sullen at first, but after getting complimented at the flower drawing contest and hearing my friends’ moms saying “Jimin’s all grown up”, I felt like I was quite cool.

“Jimin, wait here. I’ll come quick.” The teacher told me after the picnic’s over and we were about to leave the flower arboretum, but I didn’t wait. I was confident I could go by myself. I clutched the straps of my backpack in both hands and walked with slow and stately steps. Sensing everyone staring at me, I straightened up my shoulders more. It was long after the rain had started. All my friends and their moms left, no one was there to look at me and my legs hurt. I covered my head with the backpack and squatted down under the tree. The rain slowly began to pour down harder and there was no one passing by. I eventually started to run in the rain. No house or shop was in sight. I reached the back gate of the flower arboretum. The side door was opened and inside was seemingly a warehouse.

Jimin 19 May YEAR 22 (Y)

At the end, I had to go to the flower arboretum. It’s time to stop lying I didn’t remember what happened there. Time to stop living in hiding at the hospital, stop having a seizure. In order to do so, I needed to go there. And so I searched days for this bus stop. But I couldn’t get on the shuttle bus to the flower arboretum.

Yoongi-hyung plopped down next to me after I had missed the third bus. I asked what he was doing here and he said he was simply bored and had nothing to do. He asked why I was sitting here. I lowered my head and kicked at the ground with the tips of my shoes. I thought about why I was sitting here. It was because I had no courage. I want to pretend that I was okay now, that I knew what I was talking about and I could easily overcome it but the truth is, I was scared. Scared of what I would face, whether or not I would be able to bear it and the chance of me having a seizure again.

Yoongi-hyung looked relaxed. He slumped down like had nothing to rush off for and said the weather’s nice along with some other nonsense stuff. Hearing him,I realized the weather was indeed nice. I was too nervous to look around me. The sky was blue and occasionally there would be a warm breeze blowing. Not far away, the shuttle bus to the flower arboretum was arriving. The bus stopped and the doors were opened. The driver looked at me. On a spur of the moment, I asked him.

“Hyung. Will you come with me?

Taehyung 17 July YEAR 22

My sides felt like they were being torn apart. Sweat was dripping down me. The railway, the vacant lot behind the convenience store, under the overpass, I couldn’t find her anywhere. I even ran to the bus stop but she was nowhere to be seen. People waiting for their buses gave me an odd look. What happened? We didn’t promise to meet but it was weird. She always popped up out of nowhere and followed me around. She wouldn’t give up even if I told her she’s annoying. But everywhere we went together, I couldn’t find her.

I stopped on my tracks in front of a familiar wall. It was a graffiti we drew together, her first ever graffiti. A giant X was drawn on top of it. It was her. I didn’t see it in person but I knew it. Why? I had no answer for that. Instead, the afterimages stacked up above the wall.

Her smile flashing at me when I knocked my head while lying on the railway. Her hands helping me up when I fell while helping her run away. Her face burning with anger when I stole the bread. Her gloomy look when we passed the photo studio where a family portrait was hung at the front. Her gaze unconsciously following the passing students. I told her when we were spraying on this wall together. “If you have any trouble, don’t suffer alone, tell me.” The X symbol was drawn on top of all those memories, like it was saying everything was fake. Like it was saying they were all a lie. I unknowingly clenched my fists. Why? I had no answer. I turned around and walked. Both I and she, were were once again alone.

Taehyung 20 March YEAR 20

I ran on the hallway and slid to a stop. Namjoonie-hyung was standing in front of ‘our classroom’. Our classroom. No one knew this but I called the place ‘our classroom’. The classroom of me, the hyungs and Jungkook, of the seven of us. I held my breath and came closer. I wanted to surprise him.

“Headmaster!” After five steps, I heard an urgent voice past the slightly opened classroom’s window. It sounded like Seokjin-hyung. I stop on my tracks. Is Seokjin-hyung talking to the headmaster? At our classroom? Why? I heard my and Yoongi-hyung’s names and Namjoon-hyung gasped like he was surprised. Seokjin-hyung jerked the door open, having seemingly sensed that sound. He was holding a phone in his hand. He looked evidently surprised and taken aback. I couldn’t see Namjoon-hyung’s face. I hid and watched them. Seokjin-hyung opened his mouth as if to explain himself but Namjoon-hyung raised a hand and said. “It’s okay.” Seokjin-hyung looked confused. “There must be a reason why you did that.” He said and passed by Seokjin-hyung to come into the classroom. I couldn’t believe in my ears. Seokjin-hyung told the headmaster what Yoongi-hyung and I did the past few days. He told everything, how we skipped school, jumped over the fences and fought with the kids. But Namjoon-hyung said it was okay.

“What are you doing here?” I turned around out of surprise, it was Hoseok-hyung and Jimin. Hoseok-hyung pretended he was even more surprised and draped an arm over my shoulder. Before I knew it, he was already dragging me into the classroom. Namjoon-hyung and Seokjin-hyung turned around as they were talking. Seokjin-hyung hurriedly stood up, said he had urgent business and left. I studied Namjoon-hyung’s face. He watched Seokjin-hyung leaving from the back and smiled at everyone like nothing happened. That moment, this thought hit me. There must be a reason why Namjoon-hyung acted like that. He knew much more than me, much smarter and more mature than me. And after all, this was our classroom. I entered the classroom flashing a smile, the smile that everyone teased me calling it a rectangle smile. I decided I would never tell anyone that I overheard that conversation.

Taehyung 20 May YEAR 22 (O)

I looked down to my hands. They were smudged with blood. Suddenly, I lost all strength in my legs. I was about to flop down when someone hugged me from behind. The sun was beaming its weak rays through the window. My sister was crying and Hoseok-hyung was silently standing there without a word. The dirty furniture and blankets were littered around, just like usual. No one was left where my father was standing. I couldn’t recall when he left the room.

The uncontrollable rage and sorrow that was boiling inside me the moment I came at my father still remained the same. I couldn’t tell what held me back when I was about to stab my father. I couldn’t tell how to calm this insanity-bordering mind of mine. I didn’t want to kill my father, I wanted to die. If I could, I would gladly die now. No tears came out. I wanted to cry, to scream, to stomp on and destroy and break everything, to be broken, but I couldn’t do anything.

“Hyung. I’m sorry. I’m okay. Go.” My voice came out dry, a stark contrast to my mind that was bordering insanity. It didn’t sound like my voice. I send off him, who didn’t seem like he was leaving anytime soon, and looked down to my palm. Blood was seeping through the white bandage. Instead of stabbing my father, I hit the floor with the bottle. It shattered and gashed my palm. I closed my eyes and felt the world spinning around. What should I think? What should I do? How should I live? When my senses returned, I was looking down at Namjoon-hyung’s numbers. Even after things came to this, no, as things came to this, I was even more desperate for his presence. I wanted to tell him. Hyung. I almost killed my father, my father who gave birth to me, my father who beat me to a pulp every single day. I really almost killed him. No, the truth is I already did. I killed him thousands of times. I killed him so many times even I couldn’t count. I want to kill him. I want to die. What should I do now? I don’t know anymore. Hyung, I just want to see you.

Jungkook 26 July YEAR 22

I secretly picked some flowers from the hospital’s garden. I lowered my head from the laughter bubbling up my throat. The sun was beaming dazzlingly in a midsummer day. I knocked the door, no answer. I knocked again and pushed the door open. Somehow, the room felt chilly. No one was inside. Only silent darkness resided here.

I turned around and left the room. I rolled my wheelchair down the hallway feeling tired and frustrated, and that’s when I met her. I came to a sudden halt at something showing up and there stood a girl, hair tied into a ponytail. There was a bench somewhere outside the hospital. I remembered sitting on that bench and drawing while listening to music with her. We even shared strawberry milk on the roof. My hands were still clutching the wild flowers but I had no one to give it to anymore.

Jungkook 30 September YEAR 20

“Jeon Jungkook. You’re coming there recently too, aren’t you?” I didn’t answer, just standing there looking at the tips of my sneakers. He hit my head with the roll book for not answering. Still, I made no move to talk, The classroom where I was together with the hyungs. Ever since the day I followed them and discovered that classroom, there was not a single day I didn’t come there. They probably didn’t know this too. Sometimes they didn’t show up there, busy meeting friends or working part-time. Sometimes I didn’t see Yoongi-hyung or Seokjin-hyung for days. But not for me. I went there every single day. There were days no one else would come. But it was okay. If that place still exists, the hyungs would come today, tomorrow, or the following day, so it was okay.

“Learned only bad things from hanging out with those kids.” One more hit. I glared up at him. Another hit. I thought of when Yoongi-hyung was hit. I clenched my teeth and endured. I didn’t want to lie that I didn’t come to the classroom.

I once again stood in front of that classroom. It felt like if I open the door, the hyungs would be there. They would be playing games and turn around to ask me why I was so late. Seokjin-hyung and Namjoon-hyung would read books, Taehyungie-hyung would play games, Yoongi-hyung would play the piano and Hoseok-hyung and Jimin-hyung would be dancing.

But when I opened the door, there was only Hoseok-hyung. He was packing our stuff left in the classroom. I just stood there grabbing the doorknob. He approached and draped an arm over my shoulder. Then he pulled me outside. “Let’s go now.” The classroom door closed behind me. And then I realized. Those days are gone and would never come back.

Jungkook 2 May YEAR 22 (U)

I looked up only to see myself standing in front of Namjoon-hyung’s container. I opened the door and entered. I gathered the scattering clothes, draped around myself and curled up. It was chilly. My whole body was shaking and I felt like crying, but no tear came out.

When I opened the door and came in, Yoongi-hyung was standing on the bed. Flames were bursting from the bed sheet. That moment, an uncontrollable rage and sense of fear coiled around me, I wasn’t good with words. I wasn’t good with expressing my emotions to persuade someone either. Tears welled up and I coughed and the words just kept getting stuck in my throat unable to come out. The only thing I could utter as I flung myself into the fire was ‘We all promised to go to the sea together.’

“What happened? Did you have a nightmare?” I opened my eyes at someone shaking my shoulders. It was Namjoon-hyung. Somehow I felt safe. He felt my forehead and said I had a fever. Maybe I really did. My mouth felt like it was on fire but my body felt uncontrollably cold. My head was throbbing and my throat hurt. I took the pills he bought me. “Sleep. Let’s talk later.” I nodded, and said. “Can I ever become an adult like you?” Namjoon-hyung turned and looked at me.

#bts #bangtan #ot7 #hyyh the notes #translation #trans:misc #phew

1K notes · View notes

winetae · 6 years

Text

⇾ tessellate 02

⇁ hoseok x female reader x jungkook

⇁ smut, slight angst || fuckboi!au

⇁ public sex, exhibitionist themes, angsty sex;

⇁ 10.1k

. . .

“ Triangles are my favorite shape Three points where two lines meet.” (tessellate)

Triangles are supposed to be the strongest and most stable of all geometric shapes. You wonder how true this statement is if applied to real life situations. The way you see it: triangles aren’t a reliable structure for relationships, especially if the parties you’re involved with find commitment to be a foreign concept.

↳ or : a fuckboy’s guide to polyamory

⇀ start | 01 | 02

Your life is a mess — figuratively and literally. Empty coffee cups fill up your wastebasket; messy notes are strewn across your desk. Your sheets are in desperate need of washing — not that you can bring yourself to care when you’ve been falling asleep at your desk for the last three days.

Sleep itself has become a foreign concept. Cup ramen and dry shampoo are now your trusted best friends. Although you do require ten different alarms on your phone to make sure you don’t miss class, your body miraculously manages to function properly enough for you to trudge through the week more or less unscathed.

The past week in question is a blur; one never-ending, miserable routine that starts and ends with schoolwork. When your days aren’t eaten away by your part-time job and classes, you spend the rest of your time cram studying in cafes or finishing off your semester project in one of the available art studios on campus. You’re too caught up with your mountain-high pile of workload to dwell on any relationship troubles, especially when finals are knocking at your door, ready to promptly drag you down to your grave.

"Rough night?"

One of the only classmates you’re acquainted with, Joo, slinks into the chair beside yours, her leather messenger bag dropping to the floor with an audible thud. The familiar aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafts under your nose, and your sleep-deprived eyes are immediately drawn to the venti-sized cup she nurses in her hands. Your stomach growls — a loud reminder that you’ve been living off nothing but shots of caffeine and instant noodles.

"Is it that obvious?" You cover the undersides of your eyes self-consciously with your sleeve-covered hands.

Has your concealer worn off already? The drugstore brand isn’t renowned for being long-lasting but it should, at the minimum, last longer than an hour… What the hell? You had been relying on the product to make you look somewhat human. You grown inwardly, already imagining how frightening you must look with your panda eyes and greasy hair haphazardly tied into a poorly put together bun. You make a mental note to stay away from the sight of your reflection only because you want to spare your eyes the pain.

Your clothes don’t help your case, either — the wrinkled hoodie that dwarfs your form makes you look like an unidentifiable blob who has been living in the same outfit for the past week...which, admittedly, wouldn’t be too far from the truth. You’re sure anyone who takes one glimpse in your direction would think you’ve given up on looking like a normal human being. Between the fight with Hoseok and finals looming over your head like a dark cloud, you’ve been neglecting to take care of yourself properly. And, in all honesty, you would rather sleep an extra fifteen minutes than get up to apply a layer of makeup.

"Don't worry, you don't look worse than anyone else here..." She gives you a friendly pat on the shoulder after noticing your gloomy expression.

A cursory glance around the room confirms Joo’s statement. Her words, however, fail to cheer you up. To know that you’re not worse off than the rest of your classmates is not the most comforting piece of information. A sea of red-rimmed eyes, sunken expressions and grayish complexions surrounds you; it’s a sight you would expect to see in post-apocalyptic movies, not in a 10 am painting class.

"I stayed up until four finishing the damned thing. Thank God for coffee, right?" ” Joo’s lips curl into a frown as she pulls out her essay from her overstuffed bag. She curses under her breath when she notices the front page is dogeared and runs a hand over it in an attempt to flatten it out.

"Yeah.... I haven't been able to sleep much. I wish Professor Park would give us some slack.”

"Him? Give us a break? Yeah, right. He gets off watching us suffer. Why else would he give us this much work before finals? Fuckin' sadist.” She leans forward to press down harder, face contorted in a frown. “He can't wait to see us breakdown from the stress alone." Finally, she kicks one of the legs of the chair in front of her and slumps in her seat, apparently having given up on fixing the crease that mars the cover of her assignment.

Right on cue, the door slides open, and she peeks though her fingers, probably expecting Park to storm in right then. Her tense shoulders relax when the last students shuffle in instead of Park. She waves one of her friends over to the vacant chair next to her, her expression perking up.

You don’t recognize her friend, but, then again, you’re disgustingly bad at remembering faces. If Joo hadn’t struck up a conversation with you several weeks ago, you probably wouldn’t remember her, either. Your eyes stay peeled on her approaching form, partly out of secret admiration; unlike the rest of the zombie lookalikes in the class, her skin glows and her hair is perfectly sleek and shiny (the shampoo-advertisement glossy perfection you see on TV, not the gross kind of oily).

"You lot look like you've gone to hell and back again." The tall girl says in lieu of greeting, turning up her nose at the sight of the two of you. The look that crosses her face suggests she’s accidentally planted her heeled boot smack dab in a pile of cow dung… It does wonders for your ego.

"That's 'cos we have.” Joo grumbles behind the rim of her cup of coffee. “Did you forget the 12 page essay due today?"

"I'm more surprised you remembered. You're so unorganized, it’s a wonder you get any assignments done on time. It stresses me out every time I see you write your homework down on your hand. You can’t keep living this way… It’s April and you still don’t own a fucking planner!”

"Yeah yeah, whatever, mom. I'm not the only one who looks like death. Why don't you scold ____, too?"

You freeze up as they both turn to look at you, feeling the weight of their stares sweep over you.

The look Tall Girl appraises you with makes you flatten the top of your hair in a half-assed attempt to look more presentable. You don’t need confirmation of your repulsiveness when you're already all too aware that your tangled and knotted tendrils look like an open invitation for birds to come make their nest atop your head.

"I overslept today, s'all, didn’t have time to brush my hair," you mumble intelligibly between your teeth. You tug the sleeves of your sweater further down so that your fists are covered in the soft fabric, silently wishing that the ground would choose this exact moment to swallow you whole.

"It's cool that you're so confident in your appearance. I think if I dated someone so handsome, I would worry a lot more,” she says, leaning forward on her elbows to get a good look at you. You’re running dangerously low on sleep and patience which is why the mention of Hoseok instantly puts you in a crappy mood.

"Not everyone is that superficial, Lin. Exams are next week. Only you would care enough to get a Brazilian blowout four days before exams start." Joo forces out a laugh, trying to dispel the silent tension that had inched its way into the conversation. “Lin is a bit of bitch, don’t take it personally.”

“We all have our faults,” she shrugs, unbothered. “I’m a superficial, materialistic bitch — the kind trophy wives aspire to be. But at least I’m upfront about it. Say what you want, but I’m not the worse of the batch… Some people don’t have any morals.”

“You have morals? I’m surprised that you have a soul,” Joo snickers, earning an eye roll.

“Some things just go against my principles. I wouldn’t be caught dead wearing UGG boots, for example. Not even if you paid me to.” You can’t help but look down at her outfit — the sparkly pink ensemble looks straight out of the set of Scream Queens. “I only smoke weed on weekends and I don’t kiss boys who are taken.”

Mr. Park chooses that moment to enter the classroom, and you silently thank him for the save. You’re not sure what you could have replied to that, anyway. This is why you try not to interact with anyone, you think to yourself.

As the voice of your professor drones on, going over the study material for the nth time this week, your mind unwilling drifts back to Hoseok, prompted by Lin’s words.

It’s not like you’re actively thinking of him every second of every day. The God honest truth is that you’re trying your best not to let yourself be consumed by thoughts of him. For the most part, your method works well. You’ve got so much to juggle on your plate at the moment that your romantic woes are on the bottom of your growing list of concerns. Yet there are inevitable times when you’re forced to acknowledge the jumbled feelings you haven’t been able to sort out since the night you walked out on him.

Now being a prime example.

Lin’s words bring you back to last week’s fight, the incriminating messages found on his phone and his refusal to explain himself. You still have no clue what you should make of it. Your experience is limited; none of your past relationships have ever been this complicated or dramatic. The entire situation makes your heart clench with anxiety. Bubbling panic brews in the pit of your stomach when your thoughts linger on this subject too long.

Avoiding Hoseok will only postpone confrontation but you would rather battle one fight at a time. Finals are the most important. That’s what you tell yourself anyway, trying to justify your actions when you refuse to call him back after he leaves yet another voicemail.

Mina [10:21 am] you owe me lunch

Mina [10:21 am] it’s been a week

Oh, right… Mina had ordered you a cheese pizza last week when you refused to come out of your room. You had promised to pay her back, only to eventually forget.

You glance ahead, trying to type your reply back as surreptitiously as possible.

Mina [10:22 am] pls feed me today

Mina [10:22 am] i’m broke af rn. my paycheck doesn’t come until the end of the month

You [10: 24 am] okay, fine. meet up for coffee at 12?

Mina [10:24 am] yes!!! I love you <33

Mina [10:25 am] is now a good time to tell u I finished your apple pie this morning

You [10:25 am] !!!!!!

You [10:26 am] I fucking hate you

Mina [10:28 am] sorry :-( will do your laundry for a week

You type back the last message with more force than necessary, a frown marring your features.

A voice interrupts your internal monologue, “Miss ______.”

The call of your name makes your head snap up, your wide eyes meeting the stern gaze of your professor. Although you feel like a deer in headlights, you try to mask your dread with a look of innocence. Several students have turned around to glance at you, and your cherry cheeks burn under the scrutiny.

“Yes?” Your response comes out as a nervous squeak, the sound betraying you. As you clear your throat with a loud cough, the hand that grips your phone under the table trembles.

Park heaves a sigh, the sound echoing in the silence of the room. “Please come see me after class.” The expression etched on his face informs you that whatever discussion he wishes to have with you will most likely not bode well for your future.

“Yes, sir,” comes your meek reply.

Joo shoots you a sympathetic smile you weakly reciprocate.

It seems like your week from hell can get worse, you despair, holding back a groan. Stress eats away at you and you find it impossible to concentrate on the lesson when your thoughts cycle between Hoseok, your professor, and how your life just monumentally sucks.

When class is finally dismissed, your shoulders sag with the weight of your accumulated troubles. You plod on over to your teacher’s desk, your apprehension visible on your face.

“Your essay on George Seurat and Neo-Impressionism you handed in last week was, quite frankly, a disappointment,” is what he says once the last students have cleared out.

Your stomach drops and you think you’re about to feel sick. Being told you’re failing class is not on the list of words you want to hear, now or ever. Back in high school, your work was always highly praised with a stellar grade to prove it, but you feel like your luck is about to change.

“This isn’t the first month of college anymore. We’re almost at the end of the year, so I expect more from you. If you turn in something like that on the day of the final exam… Don’t expect a passing grade. I’m telling you this because I know that you’re capable of doing better.”

He hands you your paper, red scribbles smirching the entirety of the first page. You take it back gingerly, afraid to read through all of your teacher’s commentary. Clutching your paper to your chest like a shield, you brace yourself for further criticism.

“The factual content on the color theory is not false but your explanations are muddled and clumsy. If you follow the methodology we went over in class, you wouldn’t be having this problem. You seem distracted lately, and today was not an exception.” You respond to the pointed look he aims at you with a sheepish expression.

“You don’t have a lot of time left, so make sure to straighten out your priorities. You have to get yourself back in the game, _____. Don’t lose focus of the objective now! You don’t want to see me next year again, alright?” The small smile he gives you makes you nod automatically. You thank him and promise him that you’ll try harder.

Outside, Joo looks up from her phone when you finally come out of the classroom. Lin stands behind her, inspecting her nails with a bored look plastered on her face. “So, how did it go?”

“Oh...it went fine. He’s not as scary as he looks,” you force out a smile, feeling a little dead inside. There’s a head-splitting ringing in your ears that makes your vision spin — almost as if someone has just hammered you over the head. “He just wanted to go over the essay we turned in last week.”

“Cheer up,” she pats your shoulder awkwardly, your hand falling back to her side. “We’re going to work on our paintings this afternoon in Studio B. You should come too, if you’re not busy.”

“Yeah, okay.” The corners of your lips hurt, but you continue smiling.

Your body moves on autopilot for the rest of the day — your feet two lead weights you drag across the floor to your next class. The only thing you look forward to is your lunch date with Mina. You’re so down that you don’t mind spending an extra ten bucks on sweets because you’re in serious need of a pick-me-up.

The café you usually study in is packed; tables all around you are taken up by the MacBooks of students. You manage to find a seat in the very back, next to a lady in her seventies feeding her Chihuahua the crumbs of her cookie. There is not much elbow room, but Mina somehow manages to fit the tray of Danish pastries and her plate of Black Forest cake on the small table.

She doesn’t waste a second — her fork attacking the desserts like a woman possessed.

“You aren’t getting that?” she mouths around a bite of Spandauer.

Your phone buzzes four more times on the table, a selfie of Hoseok with his older sister's dog you’ve set as your lockscreen staring up at you.

'Two Missed Calls from Hoseok' your phone alerts you, making your roommate raise an inquisitive eyebrow in your direction.

You choose to ignore both the call and the look she aims at you, your face schooled in a mask of nonchalance. “Hm? It can wait. I’d rather spend my time with you.”

“How sweet,” she says, not without her suspicions. “It's fine, you can answer. It might be important, you never know... And please.” She rolls her eyes. "Don't say that when it’s never stopped you before.”

“Ha ha," you say drily, cursing how she's able to see right through you. "Is it so hard to believe it when I say I would rather talk to you? It's been a while since we've spent time together.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you would rather be sucking Hoseok’s meat stick. Not that I blame you… I’d suck that dry if I could. Not that I would since you’re dating him but y’know. I’m getting pretty desperate... I’m this close to letting Dandruff Dan take me on a date. Don’t look at me like that! You don’t know what it’s like, okay? My vagina hasn’t had any action in so long, it’s starting to feel dusty.”

Next to you, an old lady splutters into her coffee cup, shocked no doubt by the vulgarity of today’s youth. One look at the scandalized expression carved on her face and you don’t know whether to laugh or to feel embarrassed. A nervous, strangled giggle leaves your mouth before you can stop it, earning you another glare. You’re thankful at least Mina has the decency to mouth her apology while handing the elderly woman a stack of paper napkins.

“I’d love for her to have a chat with my gran,” Mina says under her breath after making sure the white-haired woman could no longer overhear your discussion. “She used to be a groupie and followed rock stars around from city to city. If you knew the stuff she did… Makes pornos look tame. Ah, I really miss her… She’d be so disappointed in me if she knew I haven’t had dick in over six months...”

She takes another bite of cake, looking thoughtful. "Are you sure Jimin isn't down to mingle?"

"Dunno..." You twirl your stripped straw around your smoothie, refusing to think about Jimin. Jimin makes you think of Hoseok, and Hoseok is a problem you can't bring yourself to solve. "Haven't seen him around much lately."

You've never interacted much before, but now that you're giving Hoseok the silent treatment, you're hell bent on avoiding any of his friends as well.

"What's going on? I can tell something's up. You've been biting your straw non-stop since we sat down and just look at your nails." You look down, finally taking notice of the tragic state of your nails, uneven with chips of fading blue nail polish still coloring your thumbs. "And it's not like you to blow off Hoseok twice in a row like that."

"Just, you know... Stupid stuff."

"It's not stupid if it's bothering you. You can tell me what's wrong, if you want. I'm not the best at giving advice, but I don't like seeing you like," she waves a hand around at your face, "this. You look like…”

“Death came knocking at your door this morning," she supplies with a grimace. "Jesus, when was the last time you took a shower? Seriously… What's bothering you so much? Is it Hoseok? Did you guys finally have a fight?"

"Finally? What is that supposed to mean?”

"Well, yeah. It was bound to happen sooner or later.”

"Wait, what? You aren’t surprised?”

“Honestly?” Hesitation crosses her features as she mulls over her words. The beat of silence speaks volumes and gives you your answer before she finally speaks again. “Not really. What happened exactly?"

"I found some weird pictures on his phone. This girl he's been talking to sends him semi-nudes."

Mina shoots you an apologetic look. “I’ve always thought relationships built on sex don’t last long. Don’t take offense, okay? But all you two do is fuck. Any of your interactions involve getting each other off some way or another. I’m not saying that he should take you out to a fancy restaurant or anything, but... Do you guys even talk? What do you guys even do?”

“We do talk!” You’re quick to argue, used to defending yourself from accusations. “We text each other and we call each other when we can. Both of us are really busy right now, that’s why we haven’t been able to spend time with each other as much as I would’ve liked...”

“Okay...” She smiles, unconvinced. “And what do you guys talk about exactly?”

“Just, like...normal, mundane stuff. How our day went, what we’re having for dinner. But we’ve never argued before this...”

“So...superficial talk. You could have the same conversations with anyone else, am I right? And what do you even know about him? What’s his favorite color?”

“We don’t have to know everything about each other,” you argue. “We just started dating! You can’t expect us to know every single, little thing about each other. And, besides, I don’t know much about you, either, but that doesn’t mean we aren’t close. Knowing or not knowing his favorite color shouldn’t be a reason enough to be with him or not.”

“It was an example, gosh. What I’m trying to say is that I don’t see what’s changed between now and the time you guys were just casually fucking. Like, cool, he calls you his girlfriend now, but what does it matter if he’s off wetting his dick whenever you’re too busy to let him come by.”

“I don’t know about that. He did say that he didn’t get with her since he started dating me... I shouldn’t care about who he’s been with before that.”

“You actually believe that excuse?” Mina lets out an unattractive snort. Stabbing a fork into her slice of chocolate cake with more force than necessary, she scoops out a huge mouthful that she somehow manages to swallow in one bite. “Honey, he could at least try to sound a little more convincing. He got that straight from a 'How to be a fuckboy' manual.”

"Hoseok isn't like his friends," you insist, stubbornly.

"Sure, sure. Take off your rose covered lenses for a second and hear me out. Birds of a feather flock together. Even if he's not as bad as his fuckboy posse, he can't be squeaky clean either. He and his friends name themselves the Pussy Terminators... Not only is that cringe as fuck, it's also a quite telling."

"I think Hoseok mentioned Jimin was the one who came up with that..." you add as an afterthought.

"That's not the point here! The point is, those types of guys are good for a fuck, and that's it. I'm glad things were working well with Hoseok, but I also don't want you to get hurt. So talk it out, listen to what he has to say, but don't let him play you like the naive freshman he might think you are."

She takes one of your hands between her own, “Don’t let him step all over you, okay? I know you like him a lot, but I can see how stressed out and miserable you look.”

You chew on your bottom lip, mulling over her words in silence. While she does have a point, you want to give Hoseok the benefit of the doubt, even if you aren’t sure if he deserves it.

The dilemma that rages inside your heart but be readable on your face, for Mina squeezes your hand in comfort. “Go home, take a hot shower. You’ll feel a lot better, trust me.”

It turns out that Mina is right about at least one thing. The hot shower does wonders for the crick in your neck, and you feel like a different person now that your hair is clean and the thin layer of grime has been scrubbed off your body. A hot shower is not a miracle solution for all of your problems, but it’s one step in the right direction.

Feeling rejuvenated in clean clothes, you head on over to the art studio to advance on your semester paint project with a spring in your step. Painting always helps your clear your mind — once you get in the zone, no one and nothing can distract you.

The scaled down frame forces you to focus on the tiniest details, invisible to the untrained eye. With meticulous brush strokes, streaks of golden brown start to fill in the stenciled field. Every measured stroke is thought out and calculated; your hand is steady, your breath synced to each subtle movement of the paintbrush that glides across the smooth surface of the canvas.

Any of your previous worries are pushed to the back of your mind, out of sight. You don’t even notice when Joo and Lin eventually leave the studio, too immersed in the task at hand. The sun shifts in the sky, casting shadows that make it impossible to continue your work.

It's when you finally set down the tool in your hand that you begin to register your immediate surroundings. The hands of the clock hung up on the wall indicate how much time has slipped by and, distantly, you tell yourself that you should hurry on home if you want to catch the first few minutes of the TV show you've been into lately.

However, instead of heading back home, you stare blankly at your unfinished painting. Intense dislike twists your insides and you have to fight down a scowl.

The bright, warm hues of your painting are meant to reflect inner peace and happiness, but one glance tells you that the mix of colors look startlingly wrong. The blue of the sky is too icy, the golden field of wheat grim and inhospitable. You feel nothing when you stare at it, and that vacancy in your chest leaves you feeling bitter.

Nothing in your life seems to be working out right now.

You have no idea how to repair what’s been broken or where to even begin. Mina’s right, you think, you are miserable. Being with Hoseok had only been a temporary bliss, but it wasn’t a solution to all of your existing problems. While the rest of your life slowly spiraled out of control, you found refuge in his touch and his whispered words of reassurance.

A quiet knocking at the door breaks your concentration. Speak of the devil and he shall appear... Somehow, you know who it is before the door even opens. Call it intuition.

The thick wooden door slides open, and the face of the person you've been avoiding appears. Your heart stops, and, for a second, you think you’ve mistaken a dream for reality.

Hoseok is dressed in sweats and the university jersey, his hair pushed back beneath his snapback. Being familiar with his schedule, you suspect he’s come straight from practice. The dance studio he trains in is situated on the other side of campus, and judging by how sweat still clings to his brow, his face glowing with a sheen of perspiration, you surmise he must've rushed here right away.

No one makes a move. Time is suspended — seconds seem to stretch into minutes in front of your very eyes. Beneath this silence, there's a tension that lingers in the air, an awkwardness that was never present before.

"Hey." Hoseok has his hands buried deep in his pockets. He tries to sound casual, like nothing is out of the ordinary.

It only confirms everything you've been thinking about for the last few days. The two of you tend to ignore the problem in the hopes that it will fade and disappear by itself. Still — he's here now, isn't he? That has to mean something.

"Hi," you say back, but even to your own ears, the greeting sounds contrived. You wonder how long you’ll keep on dancing around the elephant in the room.

As much as you would rather not have this conversation, you know that you can’t keep running away from confrontation forever. This is why your relationship isn’t working in the first place; because the both of you have been turning a blind eye whenever any kind of problem arises.

Now that you've acknowledge that there's an issue, will you really keep on ignoring it? How can you possibly keep pretending that all is okay when you feel the weight of all that was left unsaid pressing down on your shoulders?

Hoseok must feel it, too.

“Can we talk about this now? Or are you still mad at me?”

“I’m not mad at you,” you clarify with a sigh, setting down your palette.

To this he raises a brow, evidently not convinced, “Well, how else am I supposed to interpret all the missed calls and unanswered messages? Would you have even talked to me if I hadn’t come here and sought you out?” Although he’s trying to stay levelheaded about this and speak calmly, you can detect traces of frustration slowly seeping into his speech. "If Kook hadn't told me where to find you, I wouldn't even be having this conversation with you right now."

He leans his weight against the doorframe, his head tipping back as he lets out a frustrated exhale. The column of his neck is exposed to your stare, making it easy to spot the fading pink bruise you had left him near his chiseled jaw. "I don't blame you, if you are. But we should be talking this out, yeah? You never gave me the chance to explain the other night. Well— " He pauses, chewing his bottom lip as he measures his next words carefully. "That night, I didn't tell you everything so...I can understand why you would misunderstand. I don't know if I'm too late but I'd like to explain myself now."

“I’m sorry, I should’ve told you I needed some space, but I needed time to think about...us.” A beat passes as you gather your thoughts. You’re thankful he doesn’t jump to conclusions right away and gives you the time to speak free of interruptions. "

“Did you work it out?”

“I think so, yeah.”

“Good. I don’t want there to be any misunderstandings between us — especially about this. Yuna? She means nothing to me. Not even — we never… I’ve never hooked up with anyone else since we started being together. I know I don’t have the perfect reputation, so I don’t blame you if you don’t believe me, but I’ve never cheated on you.”

“Hoseok, who is she?” The silent accusation is loud enough for him to flinch.

His tongue swipes over his dry lips. You expect him to give you a roundabout, vague answer that will only add fuel to the sparking fire.

After a moment of silent debate, he inhales deeply, choosing to stick to the truth. “We hooked up a few times over Christmas break before New Year’s. I thought we were on the same page, that those few times didn’t mean anything but good fun, and for a while Yuna didn’t do anything to make me think otherwise. Sometimes, one night stands think that they’re something more and it’ll complicate things, but Yuna was always chill."

Hoseok notices your expression and continues, "But ever since we started dating, I don’t know what’s gotten into her… No matter how many times I tell her I’m not interested, I can’t shake her off. There’s not much I can do but ignore her messages and leave her calls unanswered...”

“So…you’re telling me that she’s the one making passes at you? And that you can’t do anything but reject her over and over again…” Saying it out loud makes his explanation all the less believable.

“I know. I know it sounds like a weak ass argument. God, I’m sorry, you deserve better," he berates himself, the corners of his lips pulling into a frown. "I wish that I could tell her to fuck off for good.”

“Then why can’t you? Isn’t this harassment? You have to tell her to stop! This isn’t okay, and I’m not just saying this because I’m dating you, or because I’m jealous or want you to myself or—” You inhale deeply, catching your breath before you continue, "This isn’t okay, Hoseok. If a guy kept sending me dick pics even when I clearly told him I wasn’t interested—"

“I know," he cuts off your rambling with an exasperated sigh. "I know and I try to avoid her when I can, I do, but she’s in the fucking Mayday Showcase. If she was any other fuck, I would set her straight, but I don’t want to pick a fight right now. Our teamwork already sucks as it is… The showcase means too much; I can’t let myself screw it up.”

“You’re not the one screwing anything up. If this is true, she shouldn’t be acting this unprofessional in the first place.”

“Yeah, but it’s also my fault for not following the rules. We’re not supposed to fool around with anyone on our team for this exact reason. I should've known something like this would happen.”

“So what? You’re going to let her come onto you until the year is over? How in the world does that help your teamwork?” You cross your arms, lips pursed in displeasure.

“What else am I supposed to do? Jun even told me to deal with it on my own. ‘Keep your side fucks in line’ is what he said. Crude, but he has a point. It’s my fault, right? As the saying goes, I've made my bed so now I have to lie in it."

“Jun’s a dumbass…" Shaking your head, you don't know who you're more annoyed with — Jun for giving the world's shittiest advice or Hoseok for accepting his words without protest. "No wonder the teamwork is shit, when you have him as your captain. Maybe you should take it up with your dance instructor instead. Surely they’ll intervene, right?”

“So they can, what, pull Yuna from the showcase? And mess with the dance formations? We’ve been practicing this for months, it’s not something so easily changeable. If that happens, it’ll take more effort to adjust and rearrange the choreo. Dance comes first, it always has. It’s all I have, you know? It's all I’m good at. If I lose this chance, then there won’t be anything left for me to do.” He trails off, his eyes fixing a stain on the wall with feigned interest. He tries to mask his discomfort but you can see right through his act. It's not often Hoseok divulges his inner thoughts and insecurities; he probably feels embarrassed and regrets speaking too much.

A pause laden with tension follows, filling the empty void between the two of you, as you try to make sense of what he said. You're momentarily at a loss for words. Normally, you would provide gentle words of encouragement, but this time they get stuck in your throat. You still don't know whether or not to buy his explanation. It would be so easy to give him the benefit of the doubt and just go back to how things were in the past...

"Don’t get me wrong." The silence is finally broken with an awkward cough. "I don't care about Yuna; I don’t even consider her a friend. But I can deal with it. It’s a major pain in the ass, but I can deal with it."

You nod, not sure who he's trying to convince — you or himself. What is that even supposed to mean? Is he doing you a favor by letting this girl send him pictures of her in various states of undress? Mina’s words of warning ring through your head again, reminding you not to let him take you for a fool.

“I… I just don’t understand why you couldn’t have told me this earlier,” is what you say about a bout of silence. “Why did you have to hide this from me? Don’t you think this is just a little bit important?”

“I guess I… It sounds dumb, but I didn’t want to ruin things between us. Things are stressful as fuck right now, but when I’m with you, I forget about all that for a while. For the short amount of time I get to spend with you, things become easier to swallow. No deadlines, no practice, no drama. But I don’t want to make up some lame excuse. It was wrong, I know I should’ve told you right away and I’m sorry I didn’t.”

“Alright.” The curt reply is all you can manage. Talking has only made you more frustrated. So you’re just a stress reliever to him? That’s what he’s getting at right… What are you supposed to make of that? Does he expect you to be grateful?

The residual anger hasn’t washed away yet, and you feel the traces linger.

“So, we good?"

"Are we?” You’re tired of brushing things under the rug. “I don't think we've ever been good... I've been doing a lot of thinking lately, and talking to Mina helped me straighten my thoughts out.”

Your heart feels like it’s about to burst from the confines of your chest. You can feel the thrum of your pulse in your throat. Hands curling into fists at your side, you try to steel yourself.

“I...I thi— I think it's best if we break up."

“y/n…”

“What we have isn’t a relationship—”

“Is that what Mina said?” He scoffs, slightly mocking.

“It’s what everyone is saying!” You throw your hands up, your pent up anger exploding.

“And since when do they matter? They don’t know anything about us.” The exasperated look he shoots you only irritates you further.

“But are they wrong?”

“Okay, fine." He huffs, his brows pulling into a frown. He continues the next sentence in the same heated breath, "Maybe things aren’t ideal between us. Maybe we aren’t perfect together. I’ll be the first to admit that I’m not the poster child for any 21st century romance. But since when are relationships supposed to be a smooth sailing? Throw those ideals out the window. The stuff you read about in books doesn’t exist."

The look of frustration he pins you with roots you to the spot. You can't remember the last time he's gotten so worked up over something. Pushing himself off the wall, he stalks over to you, closing the distance in three long strides.

"But you know what’s real?" Hoseok doesn't wait for your answer, "I don’t need other people telling me how I should feel. I know what’s real.”

For the first time since you've met him, the words aimed at you are harsh and scathing. It feels like he’s digging an accusatory finger up against your chest even though he isn’t touching you at all.

“How you feel?" You can't keep the incredulity out of your tone. Scoffing, you cross your arms in the hopes that you won’t waver. You need to be strong, you remind yourself.

"Please don’t try to convince me to stay when you don’t even love me. Do you — Do you even like me?"

"Do I even—? That's not the issue. Of course I like you.” He looks horribly affronted by your underlying suggestion, the crease between his brows deepening. A wounded expression falls over his face then, and he suddenly avoids your gaze. “But I— You’re right... I don’t know if what I feel is love. But at least I can say that I’m trying. Are you really going to run away at the first sign of trouble? I don't know much, but I don't think that's how relationships work."

“You always claim that you’re not the ideal boyfriend, but I’m not perfect either… I’m selfish, and I want a lot more than I lead on.” Your cheeks burn scarlet as you toy with the hem of your sweater, trying to distract yourself from the embarrassment that comes with your admission. It’s the first time you’ve been so honest, and, honestly, it makes your stomach turn. “I’ve never liked someone like you, I’ve never… I’ve never liked someone as much as you, either. But I feel like I’m investing a lot of myself in a relationship that isn’t going to work out. And as much as I want to be with you, I’m scared that I’m going to end up with the short end of the stick.”

Hoseok repeats your name, one of his hands tentatively reaching up to cup your jaw. His eyes don’t leave yours, like he’s trying to silently communicate the feelings he’s unable to voice out. You fix the tall bridge of his nose instead, then his pink lips — anything but the chocolate brown of his eyes. You’re afraid you’ll end up projecting your own feelings...and the last thing you want is to interpret his look for something else. You don’t need the false hope.

“I’m really sorry,” he whispers, thumb stroking your chin, your lips. “You’ve always deserved better. If you’re selfish then what am I?”

When his lips meet yours, your eyes have already fluttered closed in anticipation. If you gasp into his mouth, he’s quick to swallow down the sound before it can reach his ears.

Your hands fist the collar of his shirt, pulling him down closer to match your height. Greedily, you drink him in. His mouth tastes like the familiar, sweet flavor of Wrigley’s juicy fruit gum and the bittersweet taste of finality. You realize then how much you have missed him — his touch, the scent of his cologne that clings to his clothes like fabric softener, the way his lips work against yours with the intent of pulling you apart from the very seams.

"Ah, fuck," he curses under his breath when you nip the underside of his jaw, your tongue soothing over the mark with kittenish licks. You reach to pull off your pink hoodie, discarding it somewhere on the floor. The thin tank top you have on underneath draws attention to your cleavage which Hoseok can’t resist venerating with his gaze.

The art studio isn't a private space. On the contrary, anyone is free to walk in unannounced just like Hoseok had moments ago. But like every single one of your risky encounters in the past, this knowledge only fuels your arousal. The desire that sparks within you whenever he's around always wins out.

One day, your kinks will surely get you arrested, you think self-deprecatingly. Arrested or kicked out of school. The thought barely forms in your mind before Hoseok tilts your head to deepen the kiss, wiping out your train of thought. His lips dull your senses — or rather they make him your sole focus. Whenever you’re with him, you don’t realize how severe your tunnel vision is. Lost in the moment, all you can do is concentrate on the way he gently cradles your jaw between his palms. Heat blooms inside of your chest with every swipe of his tongue against yours until you can’t remember anything but his name.

Hoseok seems to sense your urgency; he reciprocates your advances, his grip tightening around your waist as he backs you up against the window. Your back hits the cold surface with a thud. A throbbing heat spreads at once, your body reacting to his like it’s been conditioned to do so, but the pain doesn't have time to register, not when he presses himself against you and you find yourself sandwiched between the glass panel and his toned body.

He pulls back and levels you with a heated look, "You want it here?"

Your breaths mingle as he rests his forehead against yours while waiting for your verbal assent. With the way his arms cage you in his hold, you find it impossible to look away from the expression of lust that paints his face in bold streaks. It's like ripping off a Band-Aid, you think to yourself, convinced that it'll hurt less if you just fuck him out of your system for good. Hoseok interprets your silence for uncertainty so he adds quietly, "You can always say no. It's okay."

"I want this." Your answer spills from your swollen lips, too quickly for your liking, revealing your desire for the man in front of you. Having nothing left to hide, you decide to drop all prior pretences. "I always want you."

It's a truth you don't like to admit but can't bring yourself to deny. How can you pretend any differently? You've always been too honest about your intentions and your feelings, ignoring the warnings from your sister to never wear your heart on your sleeve. Although you understand the need to protect yourself from heartbreak and disappointment, you would rather experience that then live through a cycle of regrets and 'What If's'.

Hoseok's features soften at your admission, his thumbs hooking themselves in the loops of your jeans. Silently, he draws you closer still, your bodies perfectly intertwined, like two puzzle pieces slotting to make a match. Only a few layers of clothing separate you from him — you're so close you swear you can feel the drumming of his heart against your right breast.

From this close, you can't help but notice how the fire in his eyes is now smoldering rather than scorching. Sometimes the heat of his passion is so intense you feel like you'll combust into a mess of flames and smoke. If Hoseok is the sun, you are the fool who can't resist singeing her wings. But this way, it's bearable, you think to yourself, his darkened gaze making you slowly melt into a puddle instead.

"You're so good to me." His breath grazes your skin, his eyelashes fluttering as he stares you down. A thumb traces the curvature of your bottom lip like a sculptor admiring a finished masterpiece. "My good girl."

The words sear through you, no longer providing the comfort they used to. But the ache they leave in their wake is momentary, your mind refusing to dwell on the painful feeling.

Hoseok’s ministrations help distract you. Deft fingers inch under your shirt, caressing your supple flesh as gently as a bamboo brush sets ink to paper. The drag of his digits across the canvas of your skin is feather-light, almost hesitant, and you suspect this is Hoseok's way of making sure you truly want this as much as he does before going any further.

When you don't immediately back out or push him away, he pulls your top down far enough to expose your bra-clad chest, and cups your breasts over the last strip of fabric until you’re moaning against his mouth. The skimpy lace material leaves you vulnerable to his every ministratio — the soft squeezes of his hands on your mounds and the heel of his palm rubbing into you to provide delicious friction — and you can confidently affirm that no other man knows how to get you as riled up as he does. Hoseok is so familiar with your body that he could probably find each of your weak spots blindfolded. He uses this knowledge to his advantage, immediately honing his attention on your sensitive nipples, his thumb dragging over the lace covered buds until they're stiff and aching.

"A-ah, Hobi please..." Your tongue molds the words with familiarity, so used to begging for him.

"I know you enjoy that. Are you getting wet for me? Hmm, not yet?" He pinches you through the lace, the fabric chaffing your sore nipples. Your body jolts, breasts bouncing in his hands as he continues to play with your swollen buds. You have to swallow down your moan, unable to articulate the traitorous thoughts running through your mind. The longer this pleasurable torture continues, the more your body yearns for more. Still, you refuse to give in completely, wanting to test how long Hoseok could hold back.

Whenever you played this particular waiting game, victory had never been on your side. Not because Hoseok was unaffected — but because your desperation eventually became too much to tolerate.

But expressing your desire through lidded eyes is a challenge; Hoseok chooses that moment to trace the slope of your neck with his lips, his head now buried in the crook of your neck, hidden from you. You tug the hairs at the nape of his neck, trying to make eye contact again but he doesn’t let you steer him away from his goal.

Hoseok presses each kiss onto your skin slowly, with purpose, as if you had all the time in the world to indulge in each other.

Why is he acting like this right now? Your teeth catch your lip in their hold out of sheer frustration. Each delicate print of his lips on your body reminds you of what you can't have, and your heart aches, heavy in your chest. The soft material of his jersey crinkles under your grip as you try to keep yourself upright and composed. You hate it, the way he his tender touch sparks something inside of you, chipping away at your resolve.

Over his shoulder, the clock on the wall catches your attention, and your spine straightens as reality sinks in.

"Hoseok," you tug insistently at the collar of his shirt in your attempt to remind him you were both short on time.

"Mmm, be patient." His teeth nip your ear lobe to accentuate his command.

"But we don't have—"

"If you want me inside your cunt, I want you nice and wet for me. Wait a little longer, okay? Be good." His sickly sweet smile is a hoax; it tells you right away that he's taking the utmost delight in making you squirm in his hold. Upon noticing the glare you sport, the corner of his lips quirk into a smug smirk, confirming your suspicions.

Patience is not your strong suit. On normal days, Hoseok is usually kind enough to cut to the chase, but for some unexplainable reason, he seems to want to draw this out.

Slow sex is welcome on lazy Sunday mornings, under the cover of thin sheets, in the privacy of your room. It's not convenient nor desired when you are running late for afternoon lectures, and even less so when the place you're trying to get it on is an empty classroom anyone is free to walk into. Of all the locations for a quick romp, it had to be the fucking art studio…

You know that if you want him to fast-forward the maddening pace he's set you need to lead the game. Hoseok knows your body inside out — but the same could be said for you; you know what makes him tick, what gets him unbearably hot under the collar, which cards to use to get his heart pounding.

Jutting your bottom lip out in an exaggerated pout, you lower your voice into a sultry purr "B-but I'm dripping already." You almost tack on the word 'Daddy' for good measure, but you aren’t in the mood to play that game today. You don’t want him to be sweet or caring; you don’t want to trust him blindly anymore. All you want is to wash him out of your system as painlessly as possible.

If Hoseok doesn't react verbally to your confession, you don't let that deter you. The rigid muscles under your clutch tell you that you've hit your mark.

“It’s not the same without you,” you continue, lust making you shameless. “I need you.”

You’re scared to acknowledge how much truth there is to these words. Deep down, you know they’re spot on, but you refuse to acknowledge it. You don’t want to be dependent on him, not for your pleasure nor anything else.

Thankfully, Hoseok doesn’t let you linger on those thoughts for too long. He unbuttons your jeans and slides them down your legs, pulling your underwear along with the denim. Material barriers now gone, a breeze of cool air caresses your exposed skin.

“You’re right,” he smirks, thumbing over the incriminating wet patch on your panties. You can’t bring yourself to be embarrassed about it, too impatient to get it on. One of his hands reaches past the waistband of his sweatpants and pulls out his hardened member, the thickness making your mouth go dry with desire.

“Wrap your legs around me,” he orders as he picks you up by the meat of your thighs, the prints of his fingertips digging into your skin. You loop your arms around his neck like a lifeline; breath caught in your throat as he positions your hips over his erection.

“Oh fuck,” you groan, feeling the head stretch out your walls as he pushes himself in inch by inch. You’re lubricated enough so that it isn’t painful, but there’s no dismissing the way his girth slowly works you open. However, the uncomfortable sensation quickly melts away and leaves room for pleasure.

The week you haven’t been with him feels like a month, and your body is eager to make up for lost time.

“God,” he moans, brow creased, evidently as affected as you. His nostrils flare, muscles in his neck tensing, and he shudders when you clench around him without warning. Sweat drips down the side of his face, the tiny beads of perspiration making his skin glisten under the late afternoon sun. Your eyes drink this sight in, subconsciously trying to commit every minute detail of his face to memory.

His hands keep you pinned against the wall as he works his hips against yours in careful strokes. You can feel the delicious drag of his cock inside of you as he pushes in and out, your body adjusting to the gentle rocking. He buries his head in the hollow of your neck, mouthing at the spots he knows make your knees buckle.

"Always feels good with you." You almost miss the way he murmurs the praise against your shoulder blades. It's delivered so quietly, you can barely hear it over the hammering in your chest and the roaring in your ears, and you wonder if he means for it to reach you. The words aren’t said for an added kick or for show, you realize.

"I want it d-deeper."

He's already giving it to you so good; the fluidity of his movements, the way he angles his hips into yours and keeps your legs hoisted up around his middle — all of it a lethal combination intended to make you scream out his name. But desperation claws at you — you need more, need the pleasure to numb all other distracting thoughts. You want to overindulge until you’re so full from pleasure that you’ll never need to come back for seconds.

"Yeah? No one can give it to you like me. You love it when I fuck you out," he rasps, the sound rough around the edges. A whine leaves your parted lips when he lifts you back down onto unsteady feet. His hands slip down to your waist, keeping you stable as he turns you around so that your back faces him. “Turn around for me. That’s good, yeah—right against the window.”

Wobbling only slightly, you brace yourself against the windowpane, the position all too familiar. Except now, when you look down, you can see a swarm of students below, some walking to their next class, others sprawled across the freshly mowed lawn as they try to bathe in the last rays of afternoon sunshine. From the fourth floor window, you’re capable of distinguishing their faces if you squint, so you’re sure that if they happen to look up, they’ll be able to spot you, too. Even though the glass panel only exposes your face and the peak of your cleavage, you know any student who catches a glimpse at you whilst in the throes of passion won’t be duped into thinking otherwise.

Eyes blown to comically wide proportions, your pulse kick-starts at the thought of someone observing you from below. Your breaths come out in short pants, and you can physically feel shivers run down your spine. Hoseok’s hand is steady on your waist, grounding you.

“If you want to stop at any time, just tell me, okay?”

“Just go,” you gasp, breath fogging up the window.

Hoseok heeds your words of advice, not wasting any additional time as he lines up his slick shaft along your weeping entrance. When he pushes into you, your mouth parts to let out a high-pitched moan of pleasure. It’s only now that he’s stretching you out that you realize how much you’ve missed this, craved this.

With one hand groping your left breast and the other tight on your hip, he fucks up into you, his hips slamming into yours from behind. He quickly abandons the slow, languid pace from before, his thrusts now rough, fueled by the need to reach his end.

The lewd sounds that echo in the studio could alert anybody standing outside the door of what you’re doing. You wonder who is most likely to find out what you’re up to — a person walking by in the hallway or a student down below. With the way he’s fucking you, there’s no way of knowing.

It’s a miracle no one’s caught on yet. Not that you would have noticed them. Every piston of his hips makes your skin flush, perspiration making your shirt stick to your torso. His cock feels so good inside you — like it was meant for you — and you have a hard time controlling your facial expressions, your arousal evident with each mewl of pleasure to spill from your lips.

“Is it wrong that I want them to see?” Hoseok breathes into the shell of your eat, the hot air making you shiver. Your mind ruses to supply the image his words conjure up and you can’t stop yourself from clenching down on his hard cock. “I want them to know that I own this pussy. They’ll take one look at us and know they’d never compare.”

His words make you tip your head back and you’re weak to resist the way his tongue finds your own, fucking your mouth to match the steady rhythm of his hips. It doesn’t take long for you to fall apart on his twitching cock, not when he knows how to please you so well. Hoseok’s pace falters as he feels your walls try to milk his cock. He ruts into you, swiveling his hips as far as he can go, his fingers bruising against your skin. He chokes your name between grunts before emptying his seed inside of you in thick spurts.

When your beating hard slows down enough for it to be bearable, your fingers twitch against their position on the wall, yearning to reach down and keep Hoseok inside of you. He pulls out almost too soon for your liking, leaving you truly empty with only traces of semen running down your inner thighs.

It’s ironic...or maybe it’s fate, you think to yourself as you pull up your jeans, skin sticky with sweat and bodily fluids.

You and Hoseok have finally come full circle, it seems. You started your relationship with Hoseok with sex and you ended it the same way. A relationship built on sex isn’t meant to last long.

“I’ll see you around?” Hoseok says awkwardly. It’s strange seeing him at a loss. With you, he’s always taken the lead, so self-assured and experienced. The timid, unsure image of him in front of you makes you soften and grant him a small smile.

“Of course,” you humor, knowing the words are said for formality’s sake. Now that you aren’t dating or having sex, there’s no reason to bump into each other. Your classes aren’t on the same side of campus and you run with different circle of friends.

Hoseok opens his mouth to say more but ends up swallowing his thoughts and keeping them to himself. You know the feeling. No matter what you try to tell yourself, you know that it won’t be that easy to move on — for you or for him. It’s only a matter of time before both of you somehow find a way back to each other.

Unbeknownst to the both of you, the figure leaning against the oak tree readjusts his cap, dark eyes never leaving the window where your figure was pressed up just moments ago.

#i accidentally queued this for jan 1st 11 pm OTL #sorry for the slight delay !!! happy new year's !!!!!!#hoseok scenario #bts smut #bts scenarios #hoseok smut #junghope #hoseok #jungkook #series #kpop smut #kpop scenarios

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welovekpopscenarios · 7 years

Text

Coincidence Pt. 2 (Jimin x Reader)

Admin: Mimi

Prompt/Ask: coincidence was so good jshdj i was wondering if you'll make a chapter 2

So, the guy you slept with is your new lecturer? Ok. This shouldn’t be awkward. At all. Nope.

Fandom: BTS

Genre: Fluff, Smut, Angst

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Warnings: language, smut

Word Count: 7814 (WHOOPS)

Authors Note: HO BOI IT’S FINALLY DONE. I am so so sorry for the wait, and that I haven’t been putting out fics as fast as I used to, but I’ve spent ages on this one and I am drained lmao. And what makes this even more special, ‘Coincidence Pt. 1’ surpassed 500 notes! I’m so happy that many of you enjoyed my story and thankful to everyone who read it! So without further ado, here is the (long ass) sequel for Coincidence. As always, let me know if there are errors, and happy reading!

- PART 1 -

- PART 3 -

- BONUS -

It felt as if this hour long lecture would never fucking end.

That’s all it was. One hour. But it felt as if time suddenly slowed, moving at an agonising snail’s pace, and it slowed because of one individual in the class who entered with a smile that morphed into a devilish smirk as soon as he made eye contact with you.

Jimin – or Mr. Park, as he were to be called now, was now your new literature professor until Ms’ Abbot returned from her maternity leave, which most likely will be until next year, seeing as she left just at the start of the second half of the year.

In other circumstances, this wouldn’t have affected you. He was just a lecturer, doing his job. You were a student, studying to get a career. The usual.

The fact that you slept with said lecturer the night before was an interesting addition to the situation, certainly. Jimin didn’t help this fact back glancing at you occasionally with narrowed eyes and the corner of his lip turned up ever so slightly, ever so cockily. And you hated how each miniscule peek would not fail to let those annoying butterflies in your tummy go wild, would not fail at causing heat to rush to your face as you just wanted to bury your head in your bag like an ostrich to sand, would not fail at making you feel as giddy as a little girl on her birthday.

To further add to your torment, your friend would not stop looking back and forth between the two of you with knowing eyes and a humorous glint in her eyes, finding humour at your expense.

Poor you.

Finally, finally, the clock struck 12 and like Cinderella (without the dress, glass slippers and rodent helpers) you ran out of the lecture hall as fast as you could, nearly tripping over your shoelaces, ducking your head to avoid the looks your got from others as you rushed past them.

Especially the one who practically seared holes into your form as you left.

Your friend fought through the crowd to catch up with you and question exactly what the fuck was happening, because it was obvious from the way Mr. Park was looking at you that he was interested in nothing else but you.

Reaching the cafeteria in no time, you headed over to one of the quieter tables near the side of the floor to ceiling window overlooking the vast campus of the college. You sat down with a huff, rubbing at your temples as your friend plopped into the seat across from yours, laying her bag on the table and fixing you with a pointed stare – one that clearly said she wanted answers.

You sighed and folded your arms in front of you, returning her gaze wearily.

“Alright, where do I start?”

“Well,” she began, “you can start by telling me what the hell happened last night,” she advised. And so, you were quiet for a moment, recollecting your thoughts as to how you were going to explain what happened last night in the simplest way. Mistaking your silence for hesitance, she continued, “I mean, nothing bad could have happened, right? You’re not the type to sleep around or mess with people, so really, nothing crazy would have happened when I left you last night. You looked like you were having fun,” she reasoned.

If you could have somehow converted ‘: )))))’ into actual words, or even a proper expression on your face at that moment, you would have in a heartbeat. It would have been easier than explaining that you had a sudden change of personality last night for the only man who was capable of causing it. The one man who now happens to be teaching your literature class.

“Uh, well. Uhm,” you stammered, desperate to get out actual words than nonsensical sounds that seem to be the only thing your mouth can form at the moment. Your friend just stared at you as if you were performing some weird dance before her eyes, ready to get up and get you a bottle of water since you looked like you were struggling to even breathe let alone speak, until you groaned and slid further down your seat, hands covering your face as you mumbled something.

“I’m sorry, what? I didn’t hear you,” she apologised, and leaned over the table to hear you better.

You kept your face hidden, and tried again, slightly louder this time.

“I….with….” you repeated, but it still did not reach your friends ears.

“My god, Y/N, I really can’t hear you when you’re whispering like that. And it’s even worse since the cafeteria is full. Just tell me,” she implored, and you gave a miniscule sigh before shifting the hands on your face so that while your eyes were covered, your mouth wasn’t.

“I had sex with him,” you whispered, and awaited your friends reaction, world still in darkness thanks to the hands on your eyes, as if you could hide away from the embarrassment.

Silence.

An uncomfortable silence, your friend was always one to talk and be chatty and loud. So the silence was unexpected, and you peeked from behind your hands to catch a glimpse of her face.

She was frozen in shock, jaw hanging open and staring at you as if you grew an extra head in the time that passed since the conversation started.

She recovered after a few seconds, and in the worst way possible she broke the silence and returned to her boisterous personality.

“Oh my god, you fucked the new professor?!” she exclaimed and you sat up quickly with wide eyes, hands covering her mouth as you looked around, praying that no one heard her. Seeing no heads turn your way, you fixed her with a glare.

“Would you be quiet? I don’t want everyone to know, thank you very much!” you snapped, and she nodded frantically, prying your hands off her face.

“Oh wow, you actually had sex with him? With a stranger?” she questioned, and you had to keep from rolling your eyes. You weren’t that quiet, were you?

“Yes, I did,” you retorted, and scratched at your head. “I really enjoyed being with him and, I don’t know, I just…invited him in. He was interested, I was interested, and…”

“One thing lead to another?” she snorted in disbelief, and you gave a slight chuckle and the cliché phrase.

“Yeah. One thing lead to another,” you imitated, and the two of you sat in silence once more. She laughed after a while.

“What the hell happened to my best friend in a few hours?” she wondered and you scoffed in response, eyeing the table instead of her. A small smile made its way to your face as you recalled the events of last night, a smile your friend didn’t miss.

“So,” she announced, “you’re going to tell me everything. And I mean everything. Don’t leave out any gory details.”

You grimaced at that. “I’m going to leave some details out,” you said, and she gave a quick sigh before muttering ‘yeah, yeah, I’ll get those details someday’ before moving her hands in a ‘get on with it’ motion.

And so, you retold the tale of your night with Park Jimin, from start to finish, leaving out explicit details to stop any perverted comments, and finished the story at when you woke up that morning. Your friend said nothing when you concluded your story, instead, she stood up and stretched, gesturing for you to follow her outside.

Stepping out through the doors of the cafeteria, you take a deep breath, inhaling the sweet spring air. The leaves on the trees around you were regaining their colour, and the campus was becoming more colourful and lively in preparation for summer. You both walked in silence towards benches near the science buildings, taking a seat and just taking in the air around you.

She looks over in your direction and catches your eye when you turn your head towards her, a strange smile playing on her lips. Like she knows something you don’t.

“What,” you ask her, eyeing her wearily. She was definitely hiding something.

“Nothing!” she beams too innocently, “Just wondering, what are you gonna do now?”

“Uh…I don’t know. Avoid literature to save myself from repeated deaths from embarrassment?” you reply sarcastically. “Why? What do you think I should do?”

She hums. “Oh, I don’t know. I just figured you should think of a solution fast, since Mr. Park is walking over here now.” And with that, she gathers up her things, making to leave and let you face your doom alone. What are friends for?

Whipping your head around, you find she was telling the truth. Jimin was heading in your direction – actually, heading towards you, specifically, and you reached out to grasp at your friend’s wrist to beg her not to leave but she was out of reach at that point, sending a wink over her shoulder at you before walking away.

Passing by Jimin, she sent a polite ‘hello’, to which he replied with a nod and a small smile, before training his eyes directly on yours now (eyes which were nearly popping out of your skull).

Jimin strode up to you with a shy smile, a contrast to the man in the classroom when he had been in a superior position. You return a nervous smile of your own, nails scratching at the material of your jeans in your lap. You flush when he approaches, and you offer the seat next to you. He sits down, closer than one normally would, and the proximity is enough to make your head spin just like last night.

Jimin grins at you, those beautiful eyes of his lost as his lids form a crescent shape, and his smile is bright enough the blind you. He looks just as good as last night, dressed smart yet casually for work in a plain t shirt and jeans. A combo overlooked by most other, but one that almost makes you drool and wonder why he wasn’t a model instead of a teacher. But maybe that was the lovestruck girl inside you saying that.

Maybe.

“Hey Y/N,” he begins coolly (but it was fake, Jimin spent the better half of the lunch break working up the nerve to even text you, let alone seek you out, and he spent a further ten minutes psyching himself up and going through what he was going to say to you when he noticed you walking around campus).

“Hey, Jimin…” you return quietly, too nervous to look him in the eye so you settle for looking at your surroundings.

And then it’s quiet. And it’s awkward. So very awkward. It’s as though there’s a barrier between the two of you, one that definitely was not there last night. It felt horrible, but you didn’t know how to act now, especially with the knowledge that he is your lecturer for the next few months.

Likewise, Jimin had trouble coming up with something to say (again, but this time he didn’t have the luxury of freaking out in private). His mouth opened only to close once again, and he sighed through his nose, running a hand through his hair.

Finally, you spoke up, bringing to light the only thing running through your mind since Jimin entered that class this morning.

“So…you never told me you were a professor,” you commented, and saw Jimin wince out of the corner of your eye. He gave an awkward laugh, attempting to lighten the situation, before stopping when you didn’t follow suit.

“You never told me you were a student here,” he countered, and you looked at him at that. He had a slight furrow to his brows, but other than that, his face was relaxed, seemingly unbothered by the taboo situation at hand between the two of you.

You gaped, tongue heavy in your mouth before you choked out “how come education never came up in our conversation? Of all things?”

Jimin did laugh at that observation, offering a shrug in response.

“I don’t know, actually. I guess I was just too distracted getting to know the real you than the you that others see,” he admitted smoothly, and your face burned hotter than any sun in the galaxy. How could he just say things like that? And so effortlessly at that? (Ha. ‘Effortlessly.’ Pity you didn’t realise that when Jimin folded his arms across his chest, it was to hide his hands that were clammy and slightly shaky after that comment.)

“O-Oh, well,” you stuttered, at a loss for words. The man could simply breathe in your direction and it would be enough to make you weak at the knees while simultaneously firing up your body better than any drug. Just how could one man do this? You only knew him for a few hours, at best!

Jimin coughed and dropped his gaze to his lap, his nervous disposition appearing again, his cool front fraying at the edges because of one girl who made his whole existence brighter with just a look.

“I wanted to apologise for running out on you this morning,” he starts. You furrow your brow. You know why he did it, he had a job to get to (evidently).

“It’s fine, Jimin, don’t worry,” you reply, and his name sounds like honey dripping from your lips. No other girl has made his heart beat as fast as you, cause the nicest pain in his chest when he thinks of you. You could tell him ‘fuck off’ in this moment, and he would thank any gods above for gracing him with your presence. Please don’t tell him to fuck off, though. He doesn’t know if he could stand the rejection, and the thought sends a chill through him. He doesn’t understand his feelings properly, not at all. But he knows he wants more of these feelings that only you can bring. He’s raptured with you, and he wants you.

“I felt terrible though. I would never do that to someone, especially someone like you,” he objected, flickering his eyes up to meet yours. His breath hitched at the beauty of them, and he almost forgot what he was going to say before he mentally shook his head to get himself back on track. “So, I was hoping you could give me another chance,” he asked.

You stared at him, slightly confused, before replying “what did you have in mind?”

Jimin smiled slyly with a coating of sugary sweetness that left you both perplexed and excited.

“I was hoping to make good on my offer of taking you out for coffee,” he announces, and your tummy twists in thrill. “I meant what I wrote. I really enjoyed being with you last night. And…I was hoping that I could get to know you even more.” He really does. He can’t describe it, but there is this inexplicable pull towards you, and he can’t resist, as if you have him wrapped around your pinkie finger (which you do, you definitely do).

You bow your head to look at your fingers which are fidgeting in your lap. Your hair shrouds your face, which you are grateful for, not wanting Jimin to see the giant grin on your face. You’re pretty sure if you open your mouth something devastatingly embarrassing or weird will come out, so you settle for nodding your head and mumbling ‘sure’.

Jimin’s shoulders deflate in relief, and an amazed chuckle escapes his lips. He feels impossibly giddy, and can almost feel his body start to vibrate from excitement and nerves. He unfolds his arms and rubs his hands against his thighs, a grin so wide plastered on his face it’s possible his face could crack.

“That’s great!” he gushed, nodding to himself. This was better than great, he didn’t expect you to want more. He was about to say more when he noticed the time on his wrist watch, and shot straight to his feet with a curse.

“I’m sorry, but I have to get to my next class,” he grimaces, and you wave off his apologies with a small smile. “I’ll text you later?” he wonders, and it’s hard not to miss the hopeful gleam in his eyes.

“Yeah. I can’t wait,” you blurt out and want to smack yourself. Calm down Y/N. But Jimin doesn’t laugh at you, but gives you the most beautiful, blinding grin possible, and you were positive fairies were about to arrive and fly around him.

“Me either,” he agrees, and starts walking backwards, offering a small wave in parting. “See you, Y/N.”

“See you, Jimin,” you replied, watching as he turned around and jogged back towards the centre of the campus.

Your grin didn’t leave your face the entire bus ride home, nor when you were eating dinner, nor when you were settling into bed, feeling lighter than you ever had before.

And it just got wider when you received a simple ‘hello 😊’ text from Jimin, and it even didn’t fade when your awoke groggily and exhausted after a night full of texting.

After agreeing to meet up on Friday afternoon at one of the quieter coffee shops in the city, the panic began to settle in.

The other lectures you had with Jimin were both awkward but amazing, considering any chance you had to see more of him was not an opportunity wasted. You just wished your friend would stop with the snickering whenever she caught Jimin stealing glances at you or favouring your opinions it class. She said he always looks at you with the dreamiest, lovestruck look on his face, but you don’t believe that. Even though you want it to be true.

But as the days progressed closer and closer to Friday, you grew nervous. What if he doesn’t like you as much as he thought? What if he regrets it? You couldn’t bare be in the same room with him if that was the case, your heart would hurt too much. There were also plenty of girls (and guys) who were interested in Jimin. I mean who wouldn’t be? It was Jimin for crying out loud – he was beautiful, sweet, charismatic, caring, the list goes on. Why would he want you when there were plenty of other people prettier and more interesting than you?

Your friend nearly ate your face off when you voiced your concerns to her, calling you crazy. Her ‘tough love’ methods shone through, yelling compliment after compliment at you, reasons why Jimin chose you, etc. It was oddly endearing, if not intense, but you appreciated her words all the same.

On Friday, your nerves were worse than ever. You thanked god you had a day off college, so you had plenty of time to prepare. But that ended up being worse than being busy, left to drown in your thoughts and anxiety before it was time to leave. So you readied yourself, prepped yourself up, and headed out the door.

Jimin offered to pick you up, but you declined. You didn’t want him to go out of his way for you, and besides, you figured the walk could help you clear your mind (it didn’t, you were still nervous as hell).

When you made your way to the coffee shop you were surprised to see Jimin already standing outside of it, considering you were at least ten minutes early. He was fidgeting; hands moving from his pockets, to pulling down the sleeves of jumper to his hair, running through the strands.

He looked nervous, and that set you slightly at ease. At least you weren’t the only one.

You strolled over to him and greeted him with a ‘hello’ and he nearly jumped out of his skin in response.

“Y/N! You’re here! You’re early,” he chirped and laughed awkwardly while he shifted his weight.

“So are you,” you countered, eyebrow raised in amusement.

“Ah, well, I just got here,” he smirked. Wow, Jimin should really stop lying to you, but he supposes it’s better to act cool than to let you know he sat in his car for ten minutes making sure everything was going to go smoothly as possible, he wasn’t going to fuck up, or scare you, or anything else embarrassing like that. Before you could make a comment, Jimin interrupted you. “Let’s head in! The coffee here is the best.”

He placed a hand on the small of your back, just like the other night, and ushered you into the shop. The smell of freshly brewed coffee and sweet baked goods immediately hit you, filling you with a sense of comfort. The coffee shop was quaint; warm hues of brown an cremes along the walls, dark mahogany tables and chairs spread throughout the area. Jimin led you to a table in a secluded corner of the shop, pulling out your chair for you like a gentleman.

“What would you like? My treat, of course,” he beamed, positively proud of himself.

“Oh, you don’t have to Jimin,” you started, “I can pay for myself, don’t trouble yourself.”

“I want to treat you,” he insisted, and you would argue more but he looks set on his decision, so you look at the list of coffees and treats on offer before relaying your order. He sends a wink your way and says he’ll be back soon, well enough since you’re burying your face in your hands.

You look around the café in the meantime, admiring the little ornaments and artwork hung on shelves. It seems like a popular café but you’ve come in at one of its quieter moments, only a few customers in the in the room, most who appear to be students like you. You make a mental note to come here again to relax when college becomes too much.

Jimin returned shortly after and placed your drink in front of you along with a little chocolate cake for you.

“Something sweet for an even sweeter girl,” he chuckled, and you snorted unattractively in response, quickly covering your mouth and thanking him for the cake. Jimin only smiled some more, thinking it was one of the (oddly) nicest sounds he’s ever heard, and saves it in the back of his mind for a rainy day.

“So, how was your day so far?” he asks once you’ve taken sips of your drinks.

Absolutely nerve-wracking you want to say. But instead you settle for “it’s been good, pretty boring but now it’s better. You?”

Wow, was Jimin blushing?

“Ah, it was ok. Classes kinda dragged on, I just wanted to be here with you all day,” he admits, and you would have gawked at the comment but it was the former half that caught your interest.

“Ah, yeah. Classes, because you’re a professor. At my college. In my class. Professor Park,” you stammer, and Jimin drops his gaze to his fingers resting on the dark wood of the table. He looks uneasy, and you almost regret bringing it up (that was not a face you wanted to see on Jimin, ever), but you wanted answers that have been plaguing your mind since that first class, so you persist and stay determined.

“Yeah…I’m sorry I didn’t tell you anything. I just didn’t expect you to be in my class, or the same college, to be honest. And since it didn’t come up in conversation, I just left it. I didn’t see a point in bringing it up, you know? We were having so much fun, I didn’t want to interrupt you when you were talking. I honestly could listen to you talk for hours,” he prattled, catching himself and giving a cough of humiliation.

“You’re a bit young for a professor, aren’t you?” you quizzed. Jimin barked out a laugh, skimming his fingers over the edge of his mug.

“Yeah, well. The college was looking for a replacement for Ms’ Abbot, and I had a degree. The college decided to take me in in the meantime while they looked for a more qualified replacement. I need the money and experience, so I took it,” he explained, and everything was clearer to you know. Yeah, that made sense.

“Kinda funny how it happened to be my class,” you comment in wry amusement, and he bobs his head in agreement.

“Doesn’t hurt though. I get to see your beautiful face every day, don’t I?” he smirks and you purse your lips to keep from screaming. How can he just say these things so casually? Doesn’t he understand he’s killing you on the inside?

“Sure, Jimin, if that’s what makes you happy,” you reply sarcastically, and Jimin’s face fades from a smirk to a smile brimming with warmth, gazing at you with a gleam in his eye you can’t discern.

“Yeah,” he breathed softly, “it really does.”

All you can do is stare in awe at his confession. Keep it up, Jimin, and he might just be able to make you spontaneously combust. Those butterflies that haven’t left since Jimin arrived agree with you, for they themselves are ready to be set alight with Jimin’s honeyed words.

The date was just as good as the night at the bar, if not better, for there was no difficulty in trying to be heard by the other because of the lively crowd. Instead, this was quiet, intimate, and it made your heart soar. It felt like it was just you and Jimin in the café, in the world, and with how incredibly close he was paying attention to you, hanging off every word you said, you might as well have been the only person in the world.

For you were the only one that mattered to him.

You had him hooked, and he doesn’t even want to try to escape.

That date set off a string of others, of varying degrees of excitement. He would take you to places such as the museum, book readings, restaurants, the local carnival, the park, anywhere and everywhere. And you loved every single one of them. They were full of nothing but laughter and bliss, young love in the air, and ended in kisses and hugs that warmed you better than any fire ever could. Every second you spent with Jimin, you fell harder and harder, to the point you were certain you were buried underneath everything Jimin, your own personal grave that you didn’t mind staying in, for Jimin was with you at all times.

During class times and college, you kept a low profile, sparing secret smiles you kept only for each other and quick words before and after class. You managed to brush off most of the questions your friend barrages you with, your business is your own and you only tell her what you want to share. That doesn’t stop her teasing, though, or even her protective side. Jimin had been perplexed when she stalked up to him one day as you were talking with him, warning him that if he so much as breaks your heart she’ll break his nose in kind, and Jimin assured her wholeheartedly that he had no intention of doing that. Ever.

Your favourite moments with Jimin, if you had to choose out of the many wonderful moments you’ve had these past few weeks, would be the time you’ve spent with him in either his apartment or yours. Those moments were relaxing for the both of you – hours upon hours spent cuddling and talking, or watching movies or reading together, even cooking together. It was just so…domestic. And it made you yearn for more of that lifestyle with Jimin. He made your days brighter by just existing, and slowly but surely, he brought you out of your shell, while sticking to your boundaries. And you couldn’t be more grateful for him. He was a missing piece in your life, and you don’t want to get rid of him.

It was on one of these nights you find yourself on Jimin’s couch, resting between his legs while his hands play with your hair, not paying much attention to the movie on the screen. You have never felt more content in your life, you would stay in this position for the rest of your life if you could. But Jimin had other plans for the night.

Since your ‘one night stand’, and since your first date, neither of you have ventured farther from kisses and hugs. Honestly, you wanted more like that night, you just didn’t know how to bring it up. Jimin, ever the observant one, noticed how your lips would linger on his a bit longer than they should, how whenever he’d smirk at you, your legs would rub together to create fiction you sought after. And Jimin was a caring person, and he cared for you. So, whatever you wanted, Jimin would do for you.

You opened your eyes at the sensation of lips making their way to the spot behind your ear, sucking on it and causing a gasp to leave you.

“Jimin?” you questioned, but he shushed you, his hands that were resting on your torso moving underneath your breasts. Your hands flew to his knees around you and gripped hard, tensing as he nipped and sucked at your neck.

“I’m gonna make you feel good, baby,” he answered, and you moaned at the pet name. His hands cupped your breasts and he squeezed, listening to your breath hitch. “Do you want me to make you feel good?” he wondered, and you realised he was giving you an out if you weren’t comfortable. But you wanted this so badly, so you nodded, and could practically feel the smirk at the back of your neck.

“Good girl. Just leave it to me”

And with that, he snuck his hands under your top, fingers smoothing along the expanse of your stomach before moving under the cup of your bra, kneading the soft flesh with care. Your head rolled against his shoulder and you shuddered, feeling yourself already get wet.

Jimin rolled his hips into your backside, erection poking you through his jeans and he groaned, moving in a steady pace, seeking friction for his hard on. You rolled your hips into his as well, and he gave a low whine, lips returning to your neck with fervour.

“Take me to bed Jimin,” you asked, and he almost flew up from the couch, pulling you up with such a speed that you almost got whiplash. He tugged you into his bedroom and promptly shut the door, spinning around and pulling you in for a kiss that left both of you equally breathless. He moved until your knees hit the edge of his bed and you fell backwards, dragging him on top of you, hands tugging on his dark hair. He grunted and lifted (more like ripped) your top off along with your bra, head ducking back down to your chest where he swirled his tongue around your right nipple before nibbling lightly on it, other hand pinching the left nipple. You threw your head back against the bed, arching into his mouth as he switched his attention to your left breast.

“Oh, Jimin,” you moaned out, and Jimin nearly came at the sound. He loves when you say his name, always have, always will. But tonight, he wants to hear something else. He bit down on your nipple and you yelped, looking down at him.

“I want you to call me sir. I’m your professor, aren’t I? You should be treating me with respect, remember?” he commanded, smirking up at you from your bust.

Fuck. You opened your mouth to respond, but a high pitched whine escaped you instead. Jimin chuckled, and asked again.

“Are you going to call me sir?”

You nodded frantically, but Jimin wasn’t pleased. He tutted and moved to sit up, gripping your thighs and settling between them.

“I want an answer, baby girl,” he demanded, and narrowed his eyes at you, eyes that were darker than the night around you.

“Yes, s-sir,” you meekly responded, and he grinned devilishly, giving your thighs a squeeze that had you jolting in surprise. He slid his hands up to the waistband of your jeans and pulled both your pants and underwear off all at once, leaving you completely bare before him. Keeping his hands on your thighs, effectively stopping you from closing them, he gave a smirk.

“Good girl, I think you deserve a reward,” he declared, and with that, he bent down and you watched as his head nearly disappeared as he lowered himself to your sex, licking a long stripe up your folds which had you crying out, hands gripping onto his hair for dear life.

He licked up and down your pussy, circling your clit before flicking his tongue against it in rapid motions that had you seeing stars. He brought his tongue down to your entrance, hesitating a moment before plunging in, and you nearly screamed at the sensation. He pumped his tongue in and out of you, bringing a hand up to rub a thumb against your nub, and you could feel you end approaching. You bucked your hips in to face, hearing him chuckled before the pressure from his thumb got harder, and it became more difficult to stop your orgasm. You looked down at Jimin, and as you caught his heated gaze, watching as his tongue licked around your folds as he smirked, you came undone from the sight, mouth forming the perfect ‘o’ shape and a loud moan escaping from your chest. He licked you through your high, hands rubbing at your thighs for comfort. You tugged at his hair when it became too sensitive and he sat up, licking you essence of his lips, the taste of you making him shut his eyes in bliss.

“You taste so fucking good,” he breathed out, and you didn’t have it in you to blush at the crude comment, too focused on his erection straining against his jeans. Remembering his orders, you licked your lips, stuttering out “d-do you want to fuck me, sir?”.

Jimin growled out a “fuck yes” at your words and rushed to remove his clothing until he was as bare as you, hand pumping his cocking as he held a condom.

“Put it on for me,” he requested, and you complied, sitting up and grasping at his dick. You moved your hand up and down in his place, listening to his breathing get heavier, and on a whim, you leant down and pressed your lips to his tip. His reaction was immediate, hands gripping tightly onto your hair as he groaned. You gave a few kitten licks, gathering up the courage to eventually place your lips over his cock. You prepared yourself, taking a deep breath before sinking down until he hit the back of your throat. You raise your head again, before repeating the process. You bob your head up and down his dick, hearing his breathing hitch when you sucked on a particularly sensitive spot, but he pulled you up, wanting to cum inside you.

You lay on your back, waiting for Jimin to place the condom on, hands reaching out for him when he came closer, kissing you with a smile on his lips. You felt him poking at your entrance so you reached down, allowing him to push into you with a whine. You sighed as he filled you up so perfectly, hands clinging to his shoulders as he began to move his hips in and out of you. You gasped, pulling him in for a desperate kiss, feeling the knot in you steadily build up once more. Jimin sat upright, moving your legs over his shoulders, and the new position caused him to brush against that spot inside you repeatedly, making you near cross eyed at the feeling. His thrusts get faster, and when you feel his fingers rub at your clit you know you aren’t going to last long.

“Come for me,” he groans, rolling his hips into yours and you cum as if a switch was turned on inside of you, heat clouding every one of your senses. Jimin’s hips started to move at an erratic pace, seeking his high and he got it after a minute of plunging his cock into you, spilling his seed into the condom with a drawn-out moan. He pulled out after a few seconds, throwing the condom into a nearby bin and pulling you into his arms, wrapping the blanket around your forms and peppering kisses all over your face, leaving you a giggling mess.

He pulled back to smile the warmest smile at you, and you could have cried in that moment. You loved Park Jimin so much it hurt, but you couldn’t tell him that. Not yet.

For now, you’re content to stay in the warmth of his embrace, falling asleep to the sound of his heartbeat and his lips on the crown of your head.

As the saying goes, nothing lasts forever, and all good things must come to an end.

You just wish you had spent more time with Jimin before you had to let go.

Your bliss came to an abrupt halt one day while sitting in the park with Jimin. He had guided you over to one of the many deck chairs and tables strewn about the park, sitting across from you as you both enjoyed the ice-cream you bought, soaking in the rays of the sun.

It had been a lovely day (as it usually was, any day with Jimin was amazing), and the two of you were simply enjoying each other’s company, the weekend spent with one another as always.

The more you spent with Jimin, the more you loved him, as if it was even possible at that point. You noticed and cherished the little things he’d do or say, small gestures of love and care that made your heart burst, keeping them locked away in your heart, those little things warming your bed at night when he wasn’t there to do it.

You wanted him all to yourself, but of course, life had other plans.

It came in the form of Jang-mi, another student in your class who you got on reasonably well with. You weren’t friends, exactly, but she would strike up a conversation with you whenever she saw you. And, of course, she saw you in the park. With Jimin. Who, you noticed, she also had a keen interest in since day one.

She walked over towards your table with a smile, eyeing Jimin carefully as she reached you. Jimin became tense once he recognised her, but offered her a polite smile all the same, if nothing but to keep up appearances. He didn’t want your day together to be ruined by seeming rude and causing a fuss.

“Y/N! We haven’t talked in forever! How are you? Out enjoying the sun,” she questioned, eyes flickering to Jimin every few seconds. And every few seconds, you felt your gut clench in discomfort. This was bad, and you couldn’t explain why exactly, but you knew it was just going to get worse.

“Hi, Jang-mi,” you greeted quietly, “I’m good. How are you?” you asked politely, but honestly you couldn’t care less in that moment. You just wanted her to leave along with the feeling of dread clawing at your chest. Jimin shifted awkwardly beside you, ice-cream long forgotten, and rubbed at his neck, a nervous tick you picked up on. He must feel as uncomfortable as you.

“I’m great, thanks! I was just out shopping,” she giggled, and shifted her focus to Jimin who stilled under her attention, strained smile plastered on his visage. “Mr. Park, it’s so nice to see you!” Oh, I’m sure it was so nice to see him. “What are you doing here? Are you two…together, or…” she trailed off and your blood ran cold. What could you tell her? Before you could panic any further, Jimin answered her for you.

“I was just helping her with some extra work. She asked me for help, and I could only do it today,” he lied, and you blessed him in that moment for being so quick.

“But…I don’t see any books around,” she observed, ready to say more before Jimin interrupted.

“That’s because we just finished, all our stuff is put away now. I wanted to come to the park to relax and asked if she wanted to tag along,” he smiled saccharinely at her, and she blushed a bright red.

She still looked unconvinced, however, but decided to drop it in favour of keeping Jimin’s attention on her.

“Ah, I understand. Maybe you could give me some extra lessons sometime, Mr. Park?” she inquired, coy smile playing at her lips. You wanted to roll your eyes but refrained from doing so, lest she saw. Were you jealous? No, that’s crazy. You aren’t a jealous person. (You weren’t, except when it involved Park Jimin).

Jimin coughed in surprise before reluctantly agreeing, giving the excuse that he had to check his schedule to see if it was free. Jang-mi giggled and batted her eyes at him, and the sight almost made you puke.

“For a second, it almost looked like the two of you were a couple,” she laughed, and you froze. “But that’s insane, isn’t it? I mean, that’s not allowed, and I don’t think many people would be happy if the two of you were together. He’s a teacher, you’re a student. That’s practically illegal,” she mused, tilting her pretty little head to the side and shrugging. “At least it’s not true. I’d hate to see a teacher as good as Mr. Park get fired over something like that. Anyway, I need to go. I’ll talk to you on Monday! See you Y/n! Bye Mr. Park!”

And with that, sending one last impish grin at the two of you, she walked off in the other direction. Jimin was deathly quiet beside you, and you hated it. All notion of finishing your now melted ice-cream was gone, so you picked up the tub to throw it in the nearest bin. Jimin followed suit, throwing his away too, and went to walk near you but you moved away from him at the last second.

You could feel the weight of his stare on the side of your face as you walked out of the park together. It was eerily silent and uneasy between you, a feeling you’ve never once experienced with him before. You hated this, couldn’t handle the flood of doubt and hurt clouding your mind, couldn’t handle the silence.

Without realising, you both had walked towards where his car was parked just outside the park. But instead of getting in, you went past it, and continued on in the direction of your apartment by foot. Jimin called out your name in confusion, and you came to a stop, turning around to face his troubled face; furrowed brows and down-turned lips and all. A face like his should never wear an expression like that, and you despised yourself for being the cause of it.

“What are you doing,” he asked in confusion. You stared at your feet, unable to look him in the eyes as you whispered out your reply.

“I’m walking home.”

“But…I’m giving you a ride,” he questioned, perplexed at your sudden change in demeanour. You took a deep breath, not feeling enough air get into your lungs, before replying:

“It’s kinda weird for professors to give their students rides home all the time, isn’t it?”

Jimin’s face dropped (along with his heart and his stomach). So, you were as freaked out about the encounter with Jang-mi as you seemed. He cleared his throat.

“Are you seriously going to listen to her Y/N? What she said was stupid, you shouldn’t listen to that. She’s probably just jealous. We’re fin-“

“But we’re not!” you snapped, eyes flying up to meet his and Jimin fell silent. “She’s right! We shouldn’t be doing this kind of thing! You could get fired, Jimin. I know you need the money and the job.”

“But it’s bullshit!” he argued back. “We have a good thing going, and in these past few weeks I can honestly say I’ve never been happier in my life than when I’m with you. Please, don’t listen to her.” Please don’t leave me.

“But how much longer are we going to sneak around? She’s gonna tell others about us, eventually they’ll see us, the college will hear about it,” you rambled, your throat constricting with each word. Fuck, you loved him too much. And this hurt the same as if someone was stabbing you repeatedly in the heart. But you don’t want Jimin to suffer because of this. Because of you. You don’t want his career to end before it begins.

“Jimin, we can’t do this anymore.”

Jimin was positive he was about to puke on the path where he stood, but he couldn’t even bend over to do it, standing stock still at your words. His heartbeat slowed until he was sure it stopped, and he felt pure panic take control of mouth as he spluttered out a mess of words, words like:

“No, no, no, please!”

“This can’t be happening.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

He felt the tell tale burn of tears in his eyes, and he knows blinking won’t will them away, especially since he sees some rolling down your cheeks, the most heart breaking sight he can imagine. You refuse to come any closer to him, afraid to break down even worse in his arms. You need to put distance between you. You need to get used to it. (You won’t, though, you won’t ever get used to the hole in your heart now.)

Jimins hands are shaking, and he so desperately wishes to cling onto you, to hold you and never let you go, but when he sees you walking backwards slowly, he hides them in his pockets, cursing himself for not being braver. Coward, his mind hisses at him, and he meekly agrees with it.

“I’m, so, so, sorry, Jimin,” you sobbed, and increased the space. “I love you, and I’m so sorry.”

And then you ran, out of sight as you rounded the corner, but certainly not out of Jimin’s mind, as you left him standing on the sidewalk, a sniffling mess as he tried to pick up the pieces of his heart after your admission and departure.

But he couldn’t. Those little pieces followed you as you ran, for you owned his heart. And he loved you too. But he couldn’t tell you that anymore.

The decision was made. ��

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whydoyouwantmyname · 7 years

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Imagine being Snape’s foster child (Years 4-6)

2-12

-During the summer you went to the Weasley's as usual, and were there when Harry came to visit.

"You boys are fully aware that Molly knows you were out?" You asked the boys as the silently tried to sneak into the house.

"I thought you said you would cover for us?" George snapped playfully

"Well I can't quite break the charmed clock now can I?" You barked back, pointing at the clock which was identifying that the boys were home.

-you tried hard not to laugh when Molly yelled at the boys. After her speech you rose and began helping her cook, apologizing that she allowed the twins and Ron to leave.

"Oh sweetheart it isn't your fault, I would have done the same thing if I had friends who wanted to save my little brother."

-You went back to Hogwarts while the Weasleys and Harry went book shopping, cause Snape made sure you already had everything you needed.

-He also bought you advanced potion books, along with a new cauldron.

"Dad you really didn't have to."

"Yes I did."

-Snape requested you be placed in an advanced potions class instead of Defense against the Dark Arts, cause he didn't trust Lockheart as a professor. His request was denied.

-Once joking about how Lockheart was probably a coward.

-within the first week you and the Twins had pranked at least 87% of the staff, your favorite so far was when you turned all Treadhorny's tea leaves into butterflies.

-"you should be focused on your studies, not on creating childish antics with the two Weasley spawns." Snape hissed at you, as you sat at one of the desks after hours, working on your divination homework.

"Well as you can see I currently am."

"Yes along with thinking of the next prank, I know for a fact those two could never have made that voice altering potion slipped into professor Flick's morning pumpkin juice."

-when the attacks started to occur Snape was panicked that someone was going to find out about you, seeing how they were no doubt a follower.

-you calmed him down, swearing you wouldn't die,

“I mean why would they go after me to begin with, for I am not a mudblood.”

“Yes and a Potter.”

“And no one but the Weasleys, Harry, and Hermonie know that.”

-You were the third one petrified. You were setting up a prank in an empty classroom, while Fred and George were acting as the look outs on either end of the hall. They noticed you were inside for far too long, and when they opened the door they found you by the windows of the room, and failed to notice the open grate on the floor behind you.

- Snape was unaware, when it occurred he had been called away to collect a box of ingredients you wanted to use to make a potion, upon returning to the grounds Albus had him called to his office.

- “Headmaster.”

“Severus, I request you remain calm.”

“I am calm sir...”

“I am afraid the creature has attacked once again while you were away. And it appears that [Y/N] has been petrified.”

“Excuse me.” Snape snapped, salt water began to threaten his eyes as he looked at Albus.

“I had her placed in her old quarters in the dungeon if you would...” and with that Snape fled the office, in disbelief.

-When he entered your room and saw your body in the bed he sank to the floor, the tears freely falling as he struggled to breathe.

-Whenever he wasn’t teaching he was at your side, or trying to find a faster way to unpetrify you.

-He was very cross when it came to the golden trio or the Weasleys, he thought they had shared your true identity with someone.

-Fred and George tried to figure out where they had you resting, since they were also extremely torn up about what occurred, however Snape refused to let them see you.

-Snape read to you every night, either a potion book, or a childhood story he would tell you as a child.

-He would cry at least once a day, and beg you to wake up even though he knew you wouldn’t.

-He snapped at the Twins once in his class, because they were unable to make a potion.

“Well maybe if you both didn’t relay so much on the Black girl you two would be able to make the most simplest of potions! However you both find messing about and pulling childish pranks to be more enjoyable then taking this seriously! No wonder the girl got petrified in your care, you both were probably too busy lighting off a stink bomb to even notice you were putting her in danger!”

-When you finally were unpetrifired, you sat up and immediately hugged Snape, who was at your bedside while they administrated the cure.

-Snape told you everything, and when it was all said you quickly stood from the bed and ran out of the room, Snape close behind.

-He followed you to the room where Arthur and Molly were gathered, Ginny stood between them. You quickly entered the room, and when Ginny saw you she had tears streaming down her face. You moved forward and embraced the crying girl.

“I d-d-d-didn’t know, a-a-a-af-after it attacked you I-I tr-tried to g-get rid of it...”She stuttered into your blouse.

“Shhhhh shhhh Ginny, it is okay. It wasn’t your fault.” You comforted as she clung to you tighter. Snape stood outside the door and listened, his heart breaking at the forgiveness you gave.

-That summer you didn’t go to the Weasley’s, you stayed with Snape, and made potions. However you wrote Fred and George a letter at least once a week, as did they.

-You asked Snape to go easy on the twins this coming school year, since you were in a different potions then they were this year. And you were not taking Defense against the Dark arts, at all.

-Snape told Albus that he felt it was inappropriate to have you in a class with a man who could so easily blow your cover. He complided, knowing there was a deeper reason for Snape’s plead.

-When the students returned you were waiting at the platform with Hagrid, and as soon as you saw the messes of red hair, you took off towards them and basically leapt into Fred’s arms. After a long hug, you unhinged and quickly hugged George.

-Snape was glaring down Lupin during the feast, which did not go unnoticed to you.

“So you going to tell me what your issue with the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor is?”

“Nothing.”

“It is n’t nothing, and I know who he is. So tell me now, before I go and ask him questions about my father.”

-That was the night Snape told you about all the bullying, and you listened.

-At the end of the story, you had a different view of your father

-When the school went in lock down due to Sirius’s possible entrance into the castle, you went to your old room in the dungeon.... with a certain red headed Weasely.

-When Snape didn’t see you in the Great Hall he thought nothing of it, but when he saw only one twin, he quickly made his way to your room, where he found you cuddled up asleep with the redheaded joker.

-As much as he knew that he should be angry, he couldn’t be.

-He never brought it up that he saw you both, and you didn’t tell him that you were dating him till you both hit the 8th month mark of your relationship.

-He just hummed in response, unsure how one would react to their teenage daughter dating.

-You cried when Buckbeak got sentenced to death, and wanted to be there when it happened to support Hagrid, however Snape wouldn’t let you go.

-You were the only student who knew about the time turner, and when it happened told Hermonie she should go back in time and stop Draco from being an idiot.

-He once got you and Fred snogging in the hall, and it took all his strength to not be enraged at the boy.

-Before you told Snape, he hinted at your relationship with Fred in class, Fred always told you too what he would say, and while it didn’t bother Fred, it did you however, which is what led you to tell him.

-”Now today we shall be learning how to make potions of lust, one drop will make your drinker fall hoplessly in love with you. However I am sure not everyone needs this, isn’t that right Mr. Weasley?”

“Here is a truth serum, if I were to give this to anyone of you, you could reveal your darkest secrets, like bank account numbers, test grades, involvement with organizations, secret relationships.”

-”Okay I am going to tell you something, and you can’t be mad.”

“What.” He flipped half of his paper down, looking at you in wonder.

“I have been dating the Weasley boy since September.” You expected an explosion of a response.

“Hmmmmm.”

“That is all?”

“Hmmmm.”

“Please don’t poison his pumpkin juice.”

“Hmmmmm.”

“Oh Goodness you already did.”

“Hmmmmmm.”

-Fred was in the hospital wing that afternoon.

-Harry told you everything about Sirius, and how he helped to free him and concerted running away with him, you told him he should.

-Spending the summer with the Weasley’s that year, and Molly thinking you and Fred where adorable together.

“I knew it from the moment I met you my dear, you were going to turn my Freddy into an honest man.”

-You and the twins explored the campsite as soon as you got to the tournament, and almost bumped into the Viktor Krum, however you dragged both boys away (Seeing how they wanted the charm his broom)

-When you reached your spots in the stand Fred stood behind you, his hands resting on your waist as you cheered for the Irish.

-When the death eater attack happened you got separated, and ended up in the field with Harry, both of you knocked unconscious.

-You both woke up to see the casting of the Dark Mark in the sky, and when the scar burned you were there to try and comfort Harry.

-When Fred saw you were safe upon returning he wrapped you in a warm embrace, “I thought I lost you.”

“You can’t get rid of me that easy Weasley.” You smiled

-Fred begged you not to go home to Hogwarts with Hagrid.

-”I have to babe, gotta tend to the garden.” His reflection pouted at you as you tied your hair back in the mirror, “Don’t give me that look, it is only three days before school starts.”

“The longest three days of my life.” He sighed as you turned around and looked at him

“You will survive.”You sighed, before walking forward and kissing his head before aerating into the dungeon.

-”You know you shouldn’t be doing that, the floo powder system works just fine.” Snape scolded.

“Yes well however I had to leave fast, before Fred convinced me to stay.”

“Hmmm.” He replied as you rolled your eyes and hurried back to your dorm, in the Gryffindor common room.

-“So he is coming back?” You asked Snape the next day as you both did inventory of the potions chamber. Your eyes fixated on Snape as he looked anywhere but at you.

“I am afraid so.” his voice was filled with sorrow.

“Am I in danger?” You asked, already aware that the return of Voldemort would result in the danger level around Harry to rise.

“I am unsure.” he breathed out, before looking at you with teary eyes.

-Snape was extra protective of you, he also made certain requests.

“So I never want you alone with anyone except the Weasley boy, and that is ONLY when you are in the castle.Also you can not be alone with any Slytherins.”

“Ok.’

“And absolutely...”

“No one can know I am your foster daughter, or a Potter.” You replied

-Moody found out who you were though, and started plotting.

-You smacked Fred’s chest playfully when he checked out the Beauxbaton girl’s flowing mini skirts.

-You purposely messed up the boy’s potion.

“Watch this.” You whispered to Lee, before the boys drank the liquid.

-You told Fred and George they made hot elderly men, and then took them to Snape to make them a cure.

-When Harry’s name got called, your heart dropped, your hand rocketing to Fred’s thigh.

-Snape comforted you, after expressing your thoughts about Harry’s involvement.

-You scolded Fred and George for making merch to sell.

-When the ball happened you and Fred left after the first dance, and sat beside the lake in your formal attire and drank.

-You were viewed as smarted then most of the girls from Beauxbaton’s, which made your father smile. Especially when Fluer, their grand champion, blew up a potion in her face, while you had a leaf dying in yours.

-You snuck out one night, and had tea with Hagrid, telling him all about your relationship with Fred.

-When Cedric came back with Harry died, you were devastated by his cries. “He’s Back He’s Back!”

-You followed Moody when he drug Harry to his office, and snuck in after him. When he was advancing Harry, rambling of himself, you throw yourself protectively in front of Harry.

-Snape wanted you under constant protection.....

-You refused

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batterymonster2021 · 5 years

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A Day in the Life: Harvard Law School Student

New Post has been published on https://hititem.kr/a-day-in-the-life-harvard-law-school-student-3/

A Day in the Life: Harvard Law School Student

(vibrant track) – hi i’m Heather, i am a 1L at Harvard law school, and i additionally went to Harvard college as an undergrad. (chill song) So cutting-edge slightly bit one of a kind, I in general have classification at eight:20 however in these days i’ve somewhat bit of time earlier than torts at 9:50. Generally i will stand up a bit of early, evaluate my readings, probably do a pair chores. After which round lunchtime i will meet up with a couple folks in my section for learn workforce, to move over some problems for civil process. Then i’ve a little bit little bit of time to go to the library with my buddies and do some reading before my property category. And then tonight, one among my associates in my section it’s her birthday, so we’re all gonna exit to the campus bar and show her a just right time. (kick back track) – Why law university? – I’ve at all times desired to get into civil rights legislation, i am now not fully certain what that appears like, expectantly work for the ACLU, or department of Justice at some point, however certainly fascinated by the public interest route. – while you were an undergrad at Harvard did you know the whole time that you just wanted to enter law university? – I did, I did understand I wanted to do it.Ever considering that I was a child I desired to be a attorney but I did take some years off to make sure that is fairly what I wanted to do. There is a giant change between seeing something in a film, and what it is like in real life. So I took two years to work as a consultant for Booz Allen Hamilton in D.C, which was once a quality experience. I shrunk at department of Justice which made me quite comprehend I desired to be a attorney. So it all worked out finally. – What type of labor had been you doing at Booz Allen? – I was once virtually contracting with the department of Justice’s government place of work for immigration overview, so it’s the immigration court docket process of the U.S..- So you have simplest now been at law college for two weeks? – sure. – What has the transition been like? – it is type of been trial by using hearth, but in an effective way. It can be simultaneously being forced to be an adult and being stuck in kindergarten all over again. You get relatively practically the people to your part considering you spend 20 hours a week at school with the equal humans, sitting in the equal seats.But it surely’s just been a really wild journey, and the opportunities listed below are just past possible, it can be mighty. – Why did you prefer Harvard regulation in certain? – good I had a fairly powerful attachment to Harvard undergrad, where we went collectively (laughs). I rather benefit from the campus, I suggestion Harvard had all these fantastic possibilities. Specially move-studying with the other departments and the other schools here. Harvard law’s also obtained unparalleled status. The tremendous size of the category permits you to get to understand men and women from a sort of distinct backgrounds. You identify it like race, gender, ethnicity, political stances, you might have acquired ’em all in bucketloads here, which is the satisfactory a part of getting an schooling here. – pleasant, so what does your path load appear like right now? – So in 1L year you’ve set course load, so everyone takes the identical lessons.You could have bought your private home, your torts, your contracts, that style of thing. So we’ve got 5 courses in the fall that we’re all taking together, the 80 of us in a single part. At the same time the other sections will take five lessons that may not be the identical, however on the end of the yr we will be able to have all taken the same courses together. So it’s the two hundredth anniversary of HLS, and my first week of tuition here the Dean without a doubt committed this plaque to the enslaved individuals whose labor generated the wealth to observed the law school. So I feel it was very meaningful to kick off the two hundredth 12 months anniversary social gathering to commemorate the slaves owned by way of the royal household, who endowed the primary 12 months here at Harvard law.(sit back track) – How is a regulation classroom run in maybe a further means than an undergrad class that you have been in? – right, so in undergrad typically you have very enthusiastic individuals put up their fingers to reply questions, it’s the complete reverse in legislation tuition, you don’t want to be requested a question. We now have a bloodless-calling approach founded on the case method, so most of our lessons will learn Supreme court docket decisions, or different court decisions, after which a professor will ask a character or a number of individuals to, what we call transient a case. So they’ll ask us like what are the information of the case, what is the legal query right here, how did the courtroom preserve.So every person does the studying, but you sort of bank on being the seventy nine out of 80 who is not going to get cold-known as that day. – ok gotcha, have you been bloodless-known as but? – sure, i’ve been cold-known as in I consider each single category and each time it was once a thrill (laughs). – A thrill, fun, enjoyable. I suppose, would you’ve any recommendation for someone going into law tuition, who maybe intimidated by that sort of thing? – No, I think it’s very horrifying the primary time, and then I suppose the primary time you actually mess up, and you have an understanding of that nobody on your classification remembers you messed up, on the grounds that they have been too busy freaking out about now not being bloodless-referred to as, that’s whilst you stop taking it too critically and you simply fully grasp that this is a quality method to be taught, there may be a purpose why they do it, it makes you read carefully, makes you pay concentration in class.I certainly select it to the way in which we studied at undergrad. – best, best. What recommendation would you could have for any one who’s no longer certain if they want to apply to regulation college or now not? – i’d say you must rather, rather be certain. If you are now not certain at all, probably you is not doing it earlier than you speak to other people who’re at regulation tuition. Legislation college is relatively steeply-priced, the debt will also be overwhelming, and if you are not sure for those who wanna be a legal professional, i am now not sure if that debt is worth mission. It’s an awfully depressing answer, however the fiscal truth is that you just must be sure before you commit, and if you’re not sure, learn a couple legislation books, watch a pair movies, speak to your acquaintances, talk to your college legislation tuition councilor, talk to men and women that who are currently in legislation tuition and notice what they think after the fact.But be sure before you observe, since it is now not worth the money if you are no longer sure. – do not go to regulation college for the sake of going to regulation school. (sluggish tune) What type of thing do you do outside of sophistication at Harvard law? – (laughs) what is outside of class at Harvard law? I’m kidding, there’s absolutely lots to do. Each lunch there may be normally some style of occasion, I think final week they’d an occasion hosted by the federalist society about whether or not or not individuals will have to be obligated to bake truffles for gay couples who’re getting married.So organizations will convey in audio system, outstanding speakers from around the country, for lunchtime variety routine. Then there is additionally a entire form of social activities hosted by HL valuable, which is like the get together institution it looks like on campus, or the pupil apply firms, or the affiliation agencies. So the Asian-Pacific Islander group will host a completely happy hour, or the LGBT organization will host a board recreation night time. So there’s a variety of things on campus to do that don’t seem to be classification associated. And then there may be of direction simply common placing round Cambridge, it is an mighty city. There may be a fine nightlife, satisfactory places to only get coffee or get a drink, some thing’s your form. So yeah there’s a lot to do. So once I was once an undergrad I felt obligated to become a member of a variety of extracurriculars, and so I felt like I cut up my time 50/50, if no longer swinging extra closer to extracurricular activities than lecture room.Whereas at law institution, primarily as a 1L, you’re expected to commit the big majority of your time to your reading, since there may be plenty of it. And that i truely admire that a lot more, it puts a variety of, it takes off numerous strain to do plenty of these extracurriculars. Also soldiering by means of the readings with the equal eighty individuals together form of bonds you collectively in a method that in undergrad used to be one of a kind due to the fact you have been all taking unique courses, frequently you felt just a little bit alone. It’s no longer the case in regulation college. – What was once the appliance process like for you, from undergrad to law tuition? – correct so, after you graduate, you have to take the LSAT if you haven’t already. This was the legislation college Admissions test. It can be scored out of one hundred eighty, you have to sit down it to publish a regulation university application.That experiment is weighed very heavily for your law institution utility, so that you have got to do beautiful well in it. Then you definitely ship in a resume as good as a couple of letters of advice, and an essay. And that is generally it, there in reality isn’t that rather more to it, but I think finding out for the exam is what stresses humans out the most. – What style of recommendation would you supply someone who possibly going via that utility system? – i might say my largest piece of advice is that you will have to really believe hard earlier than you sit down the LSAT, if you’re all set for it.You shouldn’t do what I did and rush taking an exam that you’re not prepared for, on the grounds that you are not able to cancel your score and resitting the exam is plenty of work. And on prime of that, lots of regulation faculties do appear at each rankings they usually both don’t normal them out or they take the lowest rating, that kind of thing. So i would say be very, very definite of yourself before you stroll into the examination room. And even if you consider reasonably unprepared, you should not take it and simply look forward to the subsequent new release. – proper, and so that you stated you wanna emerge as going into civil rights regulation, some thing with the ACLU, whatever along these strains.What’s going to the following couple years look like, i guess external of the tutorial year in terms of pursuing that do you feel? – Do you mean like summer internships, or– – Yeah, summer internships that kind of, yeah. – proper so, honestly i haven’t given it an excessive amount of proposal yet. It can be a nationwide coverage truly that 1Ls are not able to apply to summer internships unless December 1st. So that’s throughout all legislation colleges and all companies within the nation. So it does give you some respiratory room, however when December 1st comes i am pondering of making use of to GLAAD or other LGBT related factors just like the ACLU LGBT workplace, or to human rights campaign. I consider that is often the place i’m heading on my first summer, fingers crossed. But that’s way down the road. – right, okay. (stress-free tune) – well I consider plenty of films, whether or not it’s Legally Blonde or Paper Chase, and even like Cousin Vinny, type of impressed upon me that Harvard regulation university be very aggressive and cutthroat, and that’s simply definitely no longer the case.At least my part is fairly collaborative, really enjoyable, we send notes to each other, outlines, we send places of free meals to each other over our group chat. – colossal. – sure, huge, enormous and large. And all of that is fundamental to me as a person, peculiarly the food bit. I suppose the geniality and the camaraderie has quite amazed me more than whatever else. (sit back music) if you enjoyed this video and also you wanna be taught extra about top faculties, don’t forget to subscribe. .

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airoasis · 5 years

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A Day in the Life: Harvard Law School Student

New Post has been published on https://hititem.kr/a-day-in-the-life-harvard-law-school-student-3/

A Day in the Life: Harvard Law School Student

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