Infortunium

Misfortune

(Part 1)

The moment Yungsoo's phone rang in his office interrupting his talk with Evans, it had been 4:00 pm sharp. Monday the 16th of September, 2019, second week of classes.

A lot can happen in a day. But even if war began from one moment to the next, it didn't mean disputes started that same day. It could be war within the family, war between two friends, war between two kingdoms, war within oneself. But the problems had always been there. It's when one of the two has had enough of the other that the world could tumble upside down in one simple fight.

1 day, 24 hours, 1440 minutes, a blank canvas of endless opportunity where someone else could just stumble and smudge it with dirt or deliberately draw a little flower in golden paint. Everyone has 24 hours, everyone has a blank canvas to fill or leave untouched, and if one person decides to throw a bucket of red paint over theirs, the other paintings nearby will be stained with the same color. That's why, when you step back and see the bigger picture, the colors of many canvases seem to match.

The decision of one affects the rest by however mild or massive a fraction. That's why, in order to understand why certain things happen to one individual, the answer lies in stepping back to see the bigger picture.

Because... attacking Oliver... was not, in reality, a sudden decision. This decision was made because Jungkook had enough. But enough of what?

Rewind 30 min:

3:30 pm.

How many people had he met that pretended to be nice? How many people had smiled at him as if promising to be friends and then walked off to another on a whim? How many people, either young or old, had betrayed his trust? How many times had his feelings been hurt by other people?

Really, it was a miracle he could still trust at all. It was a miracle he had two friends. It was a miracle he was able to act even mildly normal after everything he's gone through. It was a miracle he was alive instead of laying next to Evans' child, and he knew it. He was grateful for it, every time he saw beauty in the world. But pain can come in different forms and it's always so ugly that his vision would be blurred, making it impossible for him to see even the slightest bit of beauty.

Pain was ugly. Like a sharp knife to the heart from behind him. It comes unsuspecting and holds on as tightly as a boa constrictor, making him cry until his lungs get squeezed to the limit and he can't breathe anymore, and he knows he'll die.

An argument he always has with himself sparks up when he thinks of pain. On one hand, he feels little and wants to cry, but on the other, he feels so angry someone else would hurt him that he could become very ugly indeed. The latter usually happened with his peers, and it was them that would try to hold him down by his wrists until the pain of their words or fists would be too much for him to let it all happen.

The snapping came for various reasons. The oddest of which was because a sudden sense of pride would flare up, inflating his ego until he saw his attackers as nothing but low-life peasants who weren't even worthy of being in his presence. But the one he can understand the most was when he felt like he didn't deserve the pain. And that would be all it took for him to snap.

That's why his muscles began to tense up threateningly. He didn't deserve to be betrayed, his feelings hurt, his beloved threatened, his body made to kneel on the cold floor while his wrists were held as tightly as his peers would hold him before beating him up. He didn't deserve this.

- My boy–

Only two movements were made in quick succession. One, placing a foot on the floor and, two, propelling himself forward, freeing his wrists by the speed to then...

BAM!

Hit his mark with both fists and the strength of his whole body.

But then... things slowed down around him.

The moment his fists had made contact with the soft surface of a grown man's stomach instead of the hard abdomen of one of his peers, the adrenaline in his body froze immediately. The foreignness of the surface on his knuckles felt wrong to his body. The only "enemies" his body had fought against were his peers, bodies like his, young and strong or soft in a youthful way. He'd never punched a grown-up, however mad they've made him sometimes, and the only reasons for stopping himself had been the fear of consequences. So, realizing that he was punching a grown man didn't only raise alarms by the foreignness, but by the knowledge that terrible consequences will be unstoppable.

In slow motion, between stuttering heartbeats, Jungkook rose his head. He knew his face wasn't as blank or angry or sad as it had been before, but scared. His eyebrows rose up in the middle as slowly as he saw Oliver's eyes widening completely. Jungkook saw the moment the air had been blown out of him because his body bent over and veins bulged in his neck. Even as Oliver fell sideways right before his terrified eyes, Jungkook couldn't move. It was as if he had been frozen in place while everything else happened slowly... and then it went even slower as his brain began to work again.

The shock of what he'd done had been such that it woke him up at last.

He was not this person.

He was not someone who liked to threaten and beat up people, he was not someone who enjoyed being labeled as a troublemaker, and he was not someone who enjoyed the fight. He loved beauty, his heart was moved by it, he loved softness and care, happiness and affection, he loved creativity and arts, music and literature, he loved to learn and to know, he drew strength from the things he loved, he drew courage from the people he loved, he drew himself... from the man he loved. He was a man in love now, a man who was learning how to love himself in the hands of the one he loved; a man who was way braver and stronger than his trauma makes him believe.

And yet, a man who wasn't always in control when a fourteen-year-old boy got triggered.

Was it that way then? Was that the answer to his unspoken question? Were the "right side" and the "wrong side" of his brain always "the person he was" and "the persona he used as a shield"? Was this "fourteen-year-old shield" the mirror Garrett and his people had talked about? Was he the reason for his fears, the reason why he can't remember certain things, the reason why he makes decisions like this one, violent?

But even if he knew the answer, how will he take it out without triggering himself into not doing it like just now?

The epiphany did not come with a feeling of joy. Nor did it come in a time when he could think about it. The only thing it did was aggravate the situation even more.

The moment Oliver hit the ground, time resumed its fast pacing with a void in the pit of Jungkook's stomach. At the same exact moment he heard a wheezing cough, Jungkook threw himself forward.

He slid, fast and horrified, until he was behind Oliver, and, with shaking hands, he tried straightening him up so he would be sitting up.

- ...breathe...? - He whispered in his desperation. - Expand your stomach with the strength of your abdomen...? - His voice was small and frightened even if he was sure of what he said.

And even if he had only now realized he was stronger than he thought somewhere deep inside, he couldn't draw out that person as frightened and lost as he was right now.

He felt alone in his terror, horrified that he might be making a mistake by grabbing Oliver by the shoulders even if he was trying to straighten him up so he could breathe.

Oliver tried taking a breath, but his own abdomen expulsed it. He was not strong enough to expand it by himself. This was a grown man. Jungkook began to panic. What if he causes his death?

Jungkook's heart went into overdrive and his breathing intensified. He screwed up his face in utter concentration, begging to remember anything that could help in these situations; begging his mind to remember all those times he and Emily were trying to find ways to treat Leo's injuries whenever he got into a fight because they couldn't afford his parents knowing about it.

Now look how fast the night changes. The three of them are in the same place and far apart at the same time.

Tears appeared in the corners of Jungkook's eyes. Sadness aroused by the agony of being in a situation he never wanted to be a part of, impotence came every time he heard the whizzing sound of the asphyxiating man he once trusted, terror stood in place at the thought of punishment for what he had done, and he felt so incredibly small and insignificant against all his problems, problems that he himself created by a single touch. He so hard longed to be an artist, a lover, a free man, but no painting of a valley filled with flowers could liberate him from his reality; the reality that his painter's hands destroyed everything he touched.

The idea came then, like a light bomb turning on in the darkest of rooms. And Jungkook's eyes widened, as damp as they were, and slid himself around Oliver once more so he could be in front of him.

- Incline yourself forward. Create space in the chest cavity, for the lungs. - He spoke rapidly but clearly without looking up at him as he took him by the upper arms and gently tugged him forwards.

Oliver was able, with difficulty, to pull himself up on his knees with the help of Jungkook, and inclined forwards as Jungkook said. However, he was only able to try to breathe deeply once before he started coughing terribly, scaringly. He pulled one hand to his mouth while the other tried to keep hold of Jungkook's shoulder. All the while, Jungkook looked at him in a panic, but it was nothing compared to when he saw what Oliver's body had been needing to expel.

When he stopped coughing, he removed his hand from his mouth, and it was crimson red.

He was bleeding internally.

Jungkook would've drifted right then and there, he felt it, at the back of his head there was a tug trying to pull him back, out of consciousness; out of harm's way. But an overflowing sentiment of rightness came from his chest and, as if his body was someone else's again, Jungkook moved forward, placed a foot on the floor, folded Oliver's arm around his neck, and pulled the both of them upwards on their feet.

Oliver could still barely breathe, now less since he was all straightened up, so Jungkook bent over a bit more to allow him room to breathe while he pulled at him, gently but firmly, with one arm around his waist.

Jungkook felt truly possessed right now, he was conscious of his movements but he couldn't remember when he made the decision to move like that, or where he got the strength to get to the elevators. All he knew was that he was still crying, still in despair, still feeling like an insignificant little boy, and still, his body moved with the strength of a soldier, taking this injured man to the hospital wing. He knew he was possessed the moment he walked out of the elevator and didn't hesitate nor look if anyone was looking when he pulled Oliver out the black doors and into the corridors. Even if it was empty of students and he was in agony, he marched on.

He knew why he had punched him, that was the worse part. He hadn't been possessed, he'd been terribly triggered. He forgot where he was, who he had in front of him, what his actions could cause if he made them; he forgot it all. He could only see the faces of his teachers reminding him of the responsibilities of being a Jeon, he saw his father's disappointed back with his hands on his hips, he saw his mother's pursed lips and crossed arms, he saw his siblings rolling their eyes, he saw his feelings being stomped on over and over again by anyone whom he had ever trusted however mildly and then proved him to have done wrong by doing so. He saw each and every single one of them and felt nothing but pain and rage.

He punched him. He took the breath right out of him, caused him to bleed internally, right after he'd served him tea, and took him into his cozy apartment for a talk. Even as he thought so, even as he felt guilt, there was still a part of him that cried real tears when he thought of betrayal. He'd put so much hope and trust on this kind man, had he really just betrayed him? Did he really just lure him into telling him everything just so he would hear something about Taehyung? Or was that how his mangled heart had taken it? To be honest, it was really hard for him to trust and make new friends, so he also misjudged a lot. Did he misjudge his reasons?

Did he just punch a kind man who only wanted to help him?

The pain of that question was such that he moaned with lips tight shut and frowned deeply. But still, his feet rounded the corner after passing the gym. There was no question about it by now, he was not the one controlling his body. He hadn't even thought of how to get to the hospital wing, and still, it was right there at the end of this corridor. He dreaded entering, he wanted to stop walking, but he didn't try to stop himself that hard. He knew he would regret it worse if he left Oliver to get to the door by himself. Even if Jungkook had no clue as to what was happening to him at the moment, he knew this was the right thing to do. Even if he absolutely didn't want to do it.

He pushed the swinging, wooden door open with his foot and entered fist to hold it there for Oliver. A feeling of wanting to scream for help rose up from his chest, but the sight that greeted him stifled any feeling that wasn't fear.

The hospital wing. Tall, white walls with tall windows, rows of beds on either side in between each window, and no one else but two guys on the first bed to the left, one standing as if waiting for the other who was sitting with his leg straight until his foot dangled off the end of the bed so one of the female doctors could bandage it like she was right now as she sat on a chair by the end of the bed. The scenery raised each and every hair in his body as if nails were scratching down a chalkboard. He hated hospitals. He was absolutely terrified of them.

He only had about one second to stop short by the door before those three people looked up and around at the pair of them.

- Oliver... - The doctor gasped in horror, her chocolate-colored eyes widening, her working hands nearly dropping the bandage.

When she realized this last, she rushed to fold the fabric and tape it nicely at the ends before standing up at once and rushing towards them with her arms straight forward as if to catch the man.

- What happened? Why is he bleeding? - She asked Jungkook while the two of them guided Oliver towards the bed to the right.

Oliver was still breathing short breaths that sounded wheezy but at least he wasn't choking like before.

The moment he sat, he bent forwards, holding himself up with his hands on his knees like Jungkook had told him in the apartment. Only then did Jungkook remember that he had left his bag there and the door had been left open in their haste.

Maybe Taehyung will be able to figure out something had happened and he would come here to rescue him from this nightmare. "Please let that come true" he begged.

Jungkook stood by the side behind the female doctor who squatted before the bed just enough to look closely at Oliver's mouth and eyes, then his neck, his hand, and then took from around her neck a stethoscope to put it in her ears and place the other end to Oliver's back. It was like that for three whole seconds before she squatted before him again.

- Oliver, can you hear me? - He nodded. - Can you tell me your full name, please? -

- Oliver... O'Connor... - He gasped out. But he was indeed conscious, looking intently at her.

When Jungkook realized he could speak... he took a step back. But then footsteps closed up from behind him and he froze.

- Did you fall? - She asked. And Oliver visibly hesitated.

Jungkook took another step back regardless of how close the footsteps were while rapidly cleaning his face of any dried tears. But then Oliver said,

- Yes... - Quite confidently. - Off a chair... I was standing, reaching up... and fell... -

Jungkook didn't know how to feel about his lying to him. "More agonizing" felt self-centered even if he did feel such crushing guilt. And then the footsteps passed him and stopped by the other side of the doctor talking to Oliver.

It was the scary, new female doctor, standing straighter than a ruler with her black hair tied in a tight bun and her white robe void of any wrinkles.

A chill ran down Jungkook's spine.

- You have no more injuries? Just your stomach? Falling off... a chair? -

She clearly didn't believe him.

While Oliver looked down at the floor, the other female doctor stood up.

- Lay down carefully. - She told him while holding his shoulder and reaching down her other hand to help him hoist his legs up onto the bed. Oliver grunted, hissed, winced, and grimaced all the way even once he was laying down. - Now, Oliver... Did you really fall down a chair? You have to tell me the truth, otherwise, I wouldn't know how to treat you well. - She spoke gently and softly, the complete contrast to the other doctor who was walking around the bed to be by his other side.

Jungkook could feel the faint prickle of needles all over his arms and neck at the mere knowledge that this was a hospital wing, even though he'd never had any traumatic experiences in a hospital. It was just like when he heard the voice of Garrett's father over the phone and he felt like he was breathing in the cold wind of green mountains; being in a hospital, or even thinking about it, roused a terrifying sensation in his body that he plainly wanted to avoid. So he took another step back, trying to come up with something to say to dismiss himself or to be silent enough so he wouldn't have to say anything at all. But it was futile.

- I was punched. - Oliver admitted at last, reluctantly, while the kind doctor pressed her hands lightly to his abdomen.

Immediately after his statement, the mean doctor looked up directly at Jungkook, freezing him in place as if with a spell.

- You boy, come here. - She commanded sternly. Faintly, he realized the other two students were walking away now, one with crutches.

If he ran now, it would give away who had punched Oliver.

Even as he thought the words and he knew he'd been the one to punch him, he'd been so distant from the forefront of his mind when he did it that he didn't really feel responsible for the action at all. He felt guilty while also feeling unrighteously accused of something he didn't do. Because, with who he was right now if he thought about it, he never would've hit Oliver.

So... did he really hit him? Was he present when he was hit?

Was he forgetting what just happened in the apartment?

Did all of that really happen?

- Come here. - She commanded again, even more sternly this time. And he jolted a bit before doing what he was told.

He stooped a step beside the kind doctor, with the mean one at the other side of the bed, and then he heard beside him,

- Did you see who punched him, Jungkook? -

He was startled again. Not by her tone; it was as warm as before even as she bent to grab two pillows and several blankets from beneath the bed. It was her words. She knew his name. But he's never met her before.

He looked at her, bewildered.

- How do you... - His murmur trailed away.

- Poppy. - Oliver called her. But when the pair of them looked down at him, he wasn't looking at her, but intently at Jungkook. - She is Poppy. - He gasped out again, still looking at Jungkook.

And he understood.

This was the doctor Oliver said had been in Taehyung's apartment last Thursday night. Meaning that, if she does know him, that night really did happen.

Jungkook placed a hand on his forehead, frowning in pain at the flashing memory of that whole night; when he got scared, when he got lost, when he got sick, when he got back, when he was taken up, when he woke up, when he jumped up, when she asked him questions... But the memories stopped there and it was as if he'd hit a wall while running. He shook his head and turned it away from them all, trying to hide away from those painful memories again.

- Oliver, don't--

- Jungkook... - He gasped out. But Jungkook shook his head, his eyes closed, his hands over his face, trying to hide. - Jungkook, it's alright... come here... it's–... it's fine now, you're safe here... - It sounded as if he was struggling worse than a second before.

- Oliver, lay down again, don't strain your abdomen. - The kind doctor was trying to tell him. - Jungkook–... Jungkook? - Had she seen him only now? Curling in on himself, giving his back to her, hiding his face behind his hands? - Lay down. - She whispered, and then, a second later, she was placing her hand on Jungkook's shoulder. - Jungkook... What's frightening you right now? -

You, her, him, them, this, that, white, black, cold, hot, scratch, burn, hit, punch, father, mother, friend, betrayal, consequences.

Jungkook slapped a hand over his face like his father slaps his over his desk whenever he's angry and grimaced at the pain.

- Jungkook! - She exclaimed, frightened by his sudden outburst, and took a gentle hold over his wrists.

His body stilled over at the contact, and he spoke with a voice distant from his own.

- Let... me... go. -

- ¡Poppy, let go of him! -

She immediately let go after Oliver's strained shout and took an audible step back.

Jungkook gasped and placed his hands over his mouth, looking horrified at her. He was a monster. Oliver had to scream at her to let go because he was frightened of him. What was he? Who was he? He felt tears flowing down his eyes and onto his hands but he couldn't remember allowing them to fall. Was he really about to attack her just as he did to Oliver? Was he really such a beast that he couldn't stop himself from injuring kind people? Was he really so messed up that he was afraid of acting against the ones he was afraid of but could easily attack the ones who wanted to help him?

He needed Taehyung to rescue him right now.

- ...it's ok... - Poppy frowned a little as she said it, looking straight into his eyes while straightening her hands over to him slowly.

As if she needed to be cautious.

Jungkook shook his head. He wasn't this person.

- Yes, it is, it's alright. - She nodded at him, ignorant of just how not alright this was. He could hear the other doctor moving behind him, tending to Oliver, and he just wanted to run away. - Can I get closer? - He shook his head, pressing his hands tighter to his mouth. In a swift motion, she took off her robe and let it fall to the floor. - You see? Now I'm not a doctor, I'm just Poppy. Can I get closer now? - She spoke so deliberately kidly that he felt even more of a monster than before. But, tentatively, he nodded, thinking he might just be able to stop himself if he didn't feel threatened by the Doctor's attire. - Good. Can I touch you? - She asked while getting nearer to him. His eyebrows pulled up in the middle, not knowing if she could or not; not knowing if he would get triggered again and try to shove her away. - It's ok... - She repeated right before she placed a hand on his shoulder. And nodded when he didn't move away. - See? It's fine. - Then she held his other shoulder and drew him into a hug even as he still held his hands over his mouth.

It was a soft hug, not a hug to pin him but to actually embrace him. To calm him down not forcefully but gently. Tears fell on their own and he whimpered. Kind people, these were kind people, he could trust kind people, why was it so easy to mistrust kind people?

Then, as his hands began to loosen their hold on his mouth, she murmured gently, close to his ear.

- Did you punch him by accident? -

The way she asked it, without any trace of accusation or judgment as she assured him that she knew he wouldn't have wanted to do it even if he did do it, drew a sob out of him. And he nodded.

- Ok. - She said and then hugged him a bit tighter, tilting her head to the side, closer to his, holding him thru the shaking of silent sobs. - It's ok. - She murmured again as he began to lose himself in the safety of her arms.

He felt so little but so safe; so scared but held securely. And he cried the tears of a five-year-old right there on her flowery-scented shoulder.

He heard strong steps getting away from the bed behind him and towards the office beside the door, but he didn't care. Not even when Oliver's raspy, tired voice spoke up from behind him.

- He regretted it the moment he did it. I saw it in his eyes. The realization. -

- But why did he get triggered? Did that man appear again? -

- No... But we were talking about something similar. I think it was... my pushiness. I did this to myself, Poppy, I should've stopped asking when he wouldn't tell me. - He sounded deeply regretful.

And she clicked her tongue.

- Yes, you should've. You're exercising, right? Keeping healthy? -

- Yes. -

- Good. The bleeding was mild as far as I felt in the tightness of your stomach, so resting with your feet up might be enough. But don't fall asleep just in case. You're not as young as you used to, as healthy as you might be. - It sounded like she was grinning a little.

This talk was soothing Jungkook bit by bit. Now, he was able to stop sobbing and simply breathed deeply in her comforting scent.

Oliver chuckled weakly.

- Yes, we're getting old, aren't we? - A moment passed and Oliver spoke again, more serious this time. - I nearly choked up there. But then he told me to bend forwards and I was able to cough the blood out. He saved me. - He sighed and Jungkook felt Poppy tightening her hold on him comfortably. - It wasn't his fault, he didn't want to do it. -

- When you say you saw it in his eyes, what did he look like before he realized? -

- He looked like the voice you just heard. Cold and distant. Not him. And... -

- ¿And? -

- ...well, just before it got bad, I mentioned you and what had happened last Thursday night... but he couldn't remember it. -

- ...I get it. - It sounded like she understood then why Oliver had told Jungkook that she was Poppy, and why he had reacted as he did afterward.

A moment of silence ensued. And then Poppy gently unfolded her arms from around him to take a small step back, still holding him by the shoulders.

Jungkook's hands had relaxed their hold on his mouth, but not exactly because he felt much more peaceful than before. It felt like numbness. His fingers caressed his lips and, as he exhaled, his hands lowered until they were folded beneath his chin, over his chest. Once the hug had been over, the crying stopped altogether, but he didn't feel calmer. He wasn't feeling any strong emotion as far as he could tell. It was like he felt extremely tired, tired enough to fall asleep.

- How are you feeling, Jungkook? - She asked him gently.

But he found that he didn't want to answer. He preferred to be quiet. As if the numbness that relaxed his body would break if he opened his mouth to speak. So he didn't speak.

- ...Do you feel better? - Again she asked. He could tell she had turned her head to the side a little, even if he wasn't looking directly up at her, but still, it did nothing to make him speak. - Jungkook... - She whispered and shook his shoulders the tiniest bit. But it drew no response either.

And Jungkook thought that this numbness could lead him away from where he was right now and finally drift, so he tried to fall deeper into it.

- I've seen that before. - Oliver's whisper came from behind him. He sounded surprised. - After Evans appeared at Taehyung's door Friday night, Jungkook stopped responding. -

...Taehyung...

Only that name could keep him from fading. Because it hurt him so much to remember that only this morning they've been so close, and now they were so far apart. If only he could save him...

- So he wouldn't move at all? - She asked him.

- No, he would move... But only when instructed to do so. -

For a moment, there was silence. And then...

- Jungkook... sit on the bed. - She told him.

And a spark lit up in Jungkook's mind as if there could be nothing more pleasant than an instruction to follow.

Because he didn't have to think to do it and so the numbness wouldn't break.

So, he turned his head to look beside him at the foot of the bed where Oliver rested his blanket-covered feet over what seemed to be a somewhat-tall tower of pillows and blankets, and then he turned his body to step towards that vacant spot where he could sit. Once there, he turned around, sat down, and kept on looking at the floor with his hands on his knees, waiting for something else to happen because he knew he wouldn't try to do anything for himself.

The silence that followed was loaded with meaning. However, the moment Jungkook saw Poppy's foot nearing him, the doors to the hospital wing opened up, harsh and demanding.

- May I help you? - Poppy spoke up to the newcomers.

But another voice spoke up.

- Thank you for coming. - Lily-Anne spoke to them after walking out of the office as if she had called them herself. - Take him. -

The moment she made her command in her calm, cold voice, two sets of black boots appeared in Jungkook's line of vision before taking him harshly by each arm and standing him up.

This woke him up harshly and painfully. The painful way in which the guards were grabbing him made him think immediately of punishment, so he went on to feel confused because he thought he'd been doing good by following orders just now. However, these thoughts meant pain, so his mind tried to stop them at once.

- What are you doing? - Poppy said somewhere behind him.

- I'm taking him to the headmaster. - Jungkook's body went cold. - He just assaulted a teacher and his behavior is highly questionable in the medical sense. Excuse me. -

- Wait, no, don't. - Oliver tried to say. And then something more was said between the grown-ups, but Jungkook could hardly listen with how hard his heart was beating inside his chest.

He knew he was panicking, he knew he wanted to jank his arms from their grasp, he knew he wanted to run away... But he couldn't. Something in him was warning him that his punishment will be worse if he ran, his punishment will be worse if he ran, his punishment will be worse if he ran...

"Run...No, Jungkook. When I tell you to run, you stay put. Now, run!... Thaaaaat's right, see? It's not a hard game to follow, Jungkook. Simply do the opposite of what I say. If I say "smile", you don't smile. If I say "loud", you stay quiet. If I say "run"... you stay put. Understood? I'm teaching you about balance and balance is about two sides of the same coin. So, and this I mean literally, if you fail to master this game of ours, there will be punishment. If you run when I don't what you to... your punishment will be worse."

Worse...worse... so much worse... he can't run, he can't scream or it'll be worse...

His feet were moving... They were taking him somewhere, but where? Where was he?

Evanthe.

Evanthe? But why was he so scared?

Punishment.

...He didn't want to go there. He didn't, his heart was going to punch out of his chest and leave him to suffer alone, he can't let that happen, he needs to calm down or else it'll happen, he has to run away... But he can't... He can't... He can't... He can't...

What can't he do? He doesn't remember? Where was he? He doesn't know. He can't recognize any of these faces, he can't recognize the red carpet, his house never had a red carpet, his house never had an elevator, he's never been restrained by two men in his house, only one...

Punishment...

He...had to... run... Why won't his feet run? Why won't his arms move from their hold? Why is he allowing them to take him closer to those tall double doors?

¡That's his father's office in Evanthe!

Run. Run. He has to run. He has to get to his friends, he has to get to Taehyung, he has to run, he knows he won't survive this, he knows the person he'd been the day before on that small pavilion laying with Taehyung on a white duvet over the green grass will be locked away by the fearful fourteen-year-old that wants to do nothing but to protect that pure part of him.

But it was too late, she opened the doors wide without invitation and still was told to enter. And he knew, even as he looked down at the floor, that nothing would be the way it was once his father heard from her what he'd done.

4:00 pm

Poppy turned in place and paced to the other end of the room again. It had been after putting her robe back on that she started pacing back and forth with a frown on her forehead, thinking with her hands folded behind her back. But even so, she couldn't find good enough answers to her questions.

She just wasn't the person Jungkook needed, she wasn't qualified enough or at all with what he needed help in.

She stopped.

- Thought of something? - Oliver asked once she hadn't turned around to pace back the other way.

He knew, without having to tell him anything, that she had been thinking of ways to help Jungkook.

Being friends with someone for over thirty years does that to people.

- Yes. I have to get help from someone else. -

- I thought the same thing. - He nodded, seriously. This was one of the many things that deeply comforted Poppy, the way Oliver rarely ever judges someone's thoughts. - I thought maybe Flora could help. - He added.

Flora wasn't this teacher's actual name, but he called her that way because of her daily attire. She always had flower patterns on. Everything she owned had flowers in it. And she was indeed a delight of a person and a wonderful psychology professor, however...

- She specializes in children. Jungkook is a young adult. - She grimaced a bit at the inconvenience as she neared him.

- Then, who else can we trust? - He asked as he looked up at her, right before she lifted his shirt to check on his abdomen again.

That was the question: Who can they trust? This case was very delicate and personal to Oliver, they couldn't just leave it to anybody, or else they might end up with someone like Lily-Anne who wished to punish him or lock him up when what he needed was healing.

Oliver and herself were the kind of people who were fewer in number and preferred not to say out loud.

- Well... - She hesitated as she pressed her hands gently over his abdomen and he hissed. - The only teacher I can think of who knows everything about everything in psychology is Seokjin. - She stopped checking on him and straightened his shirt back down.

He panted once, took a deep breath, and spoke up.

- Yes, maybe Seokjin... Maybe he knows what Jungkok could need but... I just– I have no idea what type of person he is, he's always kept to himself, I don't even think he has any friends. I'm not saying that's a bad thing, maybe he does have one and doesn't display it or they're not here; what I'm saying is that I don't know if we can trust him. - He grimaced, both at the pain and the topic.

- ...He does have a friend. - She remembered, looking off and frowning a bit at the memory. - It was a while ago and only once. He took him here to the hospital wing because a heavy book fell on him and cut his eyebrow. At first, I thought it was a student, but then after I asked a bit, the guy told me he was the librarian's assistant. -

- So that's why he goes to the library so much. - Oliver realized. - Well, if that's the case, I'll trust him. Up to a certain extent, of course. -

Poppy chuckled.

- And you're still so trusting. - She shook her head.

- Not really. - He shrugged a little. - Or at least I try very hard not to, unlike before. - His voice trailed away. And Poppy knew who he was remembering.

His ex-wife.

Her smile faded as she remembered how he still uses his ring at public events to draw away any women there.

- Well, we really need to trust this time, even a little bit. - She took his shoulder and squeezed a bit. - I'll go talk to him. You stay on the bed and stay awake. Even if you feel thirsty or hungry, you can't move; you can't eat anything for six hours. Don't shout, don't strain your abdomen, don't even sneeze, you hear me? I'll be back as soon as possible. -

He chuckled silently.

- Alright, boss. You got it. -

She chuckled and shook her head then turned to walk away and out the door.

She knew it was highly unprofessional and dangerous to leave the Hospital wing without any doctors with the probability that another student will need help or Oliver could get worse. But this was also just as important and it'll be quick. She fastened her pace until she was nearly running through the corridors to get to his classroom. She would check there before going to the library because psychology classrooms and all the other majors that had to do with health were in this part of the university, so it was closer.

This was important to her not because she had any personal attachments to the boy but because Oliver does. Also because seeing him reacting the way he has done both in Taehyung's apartment, after waking up scared out of his mind, and just now when Oliver had to remind him who she was. This loss of memory could not be physical, as far as she could think right now. The first thing she thought since she met the boy was that it was all psychological... damage? Maybe. That's why she's where she was right now, before the door of Seokjin's classroom.

She's heard just like many others who've heard of this particular teacher that he likes to spend his free time working in his classroom. So, hoping that was true right now, she knocked on the wooden double doors and waited.

It took a while in which she could only tap her foot against the floor and look anxiously in the direction of the Hospital wing, but eventually, the doors opened.

Seokjin looked at her as if taken aback but never widening his eyes enough to lift his eyelids from their bored expression.

- Doctor. What brings you here? - He went straight to the point in his bored tone.

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🌼Thank you for reading Chapter 69 <3<3<3

Your devoted writer,

Ela Shadow Rose 🥀

Go ahead with the next Chapter ->->->