The more votes, the earlier the next chapter comes out, so don't forget to press that star! 💜

☂ Chapter 14 ☂

"A shooting in Times Square..."

Captain Jeon trailed off and placed his stack of papers on his desk. He clicked his tongue and glanced between Y/n and Jimin. Despite being injured, Jungkook appeared to be holding up well. Y/n didn't know much about the Captain, but she knew he had an outstanding sense of loyalty to his profession. She could relate to that. It was the one thing she had always clung to throughout the chaos that had followed her from the moment she had signed up.

Being a police officer wasn't what she thought it was. Crime dramas made her believe it was constant action, and while New York City did have just that, she was amazed by how much paperwork she had to do. Before she got injured, she had a pile of it. After, she got two.

"We do not believe this is connected to the child trafficking case, though it is suspicious a major attack like this would happen shortly after it," Seulgi said. Her posture was straighter than it had ever been. "What would you like us to do, sir?"

Jungkook lifted his feet and rested them on his desk. He had a Dunkin Donuts coffee in his left hand while his right twirled a pen.

"Paperwork. Keep the department calm, don't do anything rash. The people already lost enough faith in us."

"Sir?" Seulgi asked with her eyes widening.

"Not that New Yorkers ever liked us much, but public approval dropped. Significantly." Jungkook took a sip from his coffee and smacked his lips when he was done. "If we don't solve this child trafficking case soon, approval will drop more."

"Does that impact us at all?" Jimin asked.

"Not us, but the higher-ups will get fired if this continues. Maybe me, too."

"What?" Jimin almost jumped across the desk. "We can't lose you, Capt'. You're the one keeping us in line."

"Funny," Jungkook said, dragging out every letter of the word. "It feels like I'm doing the opposite."

Jimin clenched his jaw. "Seulgi, can you find Hoseok and start paperwork with him? I want our little basement group to get a head start."

That was bullshit. If Y/n could figure that out, she knew Seulgi did too. Either way, Seulgi agreed and left the three of them alone. Why Y/n was left there was beyond her. She wondered if it was because she physically couldn't move much.

Being in a wheelchair didn't bother her as much as she thought it would. Pain meds made it so the agony of getting shot more times than she could count wasn't as unbearable as before. Besides, she had a higher tolerance than most. Her entire childhood was spent getting in fights. It was why her hands were as deformed as they were.

"Listen here you little shit," Jimin said as he stomped forward. With his one hand, he grabbed Jungkook by the collar and pulled him up. Jungkook, who was more injured than Jimin, winced and grunted from the force. "Our department wouldn't be the same without you, so don't sit here wallowing in self-pity. We can solve this case if we put our heads together."

"This isn't Busan, crime is worse here."

"Forget Busan for a second!" Jimin shouted as he released Jungkook. "This is about you! You're not leaving NYPD, you're not getting fired, you're not doing a bad job—just, think."

Jimin ran his hand through his blonde hair, and Y/n watched as it curtained his face. It had grown longer, and since it didn't appear he had re-dyed it, his black roots were more prominent than before.

"I hate you," Jimin muttered, kicking at the ground. "But you're my best friend. You've had my back this whole time. Please, let me have yours."

Guilt was a strange emotion. It festered inside one's stomach and latched onto every cell it could. Y/n felt a certain amount of guilt for not searching for Old Man Pete. Wherever he was, she hoped he was at peace, but she was far too much of a coward to attempt to seek him out. She wondered how long it'd take Jimin to overcome the feelings swirling inside him. If she wasn't over her past, she doubted he was either.

"Do you feel better now?" Jungkook asked.

"Yeah actually, I do."

Jungkook placed a hand on Jimin's shoulder and gave him a squeeze. "Go celebrate Chuseok. I'll handle things from here."

"But sir-"

"Go. After all you've been through, you deserve a day off."

Jimin tightened his hands into fists. "You do too."

Neither of them spoke after that. Jungkook's stare seemed to snap Jimin into reality seeing as he came over and grabbed the handles of Y/n's wheelchair. She contributed next to nothing to that conversation, and she couldn't tell if she should feel bad about that or not. Before she had time to process what had happened, Jimin rolled her out of the office.

1PP was as empty as ever. No one had shown up ever since the raid on the ship. Y/n didn't have anything better to do, so it wasn't like she had a choice but to work. Besides, she didn't want to let the department down.

"What was that all about?" Y/n asked as Jimin pushed her away from the Captain's office.

"It's not my place to tell the full story, but Jungkook didn't have a happy childhood. He grew up being told he'd never be good enough. Hearing him say he's hurting the department, I don't know, it..." Jimin broke off to sigh. Quiet chatter bounced around them along with the occasional squeak from her chair. It was almost serene. "It hurts. He's a good man. I wish he could see it."

"Yeah," Y/n said with her voice laced in cracks. "Me too."

☂☂☂

Y/n didn't know shit about Chuseok.

Korean holidays were not her cup of tea. Not only because she didn't know any Korean, but also because holidays weren't her style. It wasn't like she ever had a family Christmas where they binged those goofy Hallmark movies and joked about sticking their tongues on a cold pole.

It didn't help that Jimin was acting like family despite not being related to her in any way, shape, or form. He was humming to himself while dancing around his tiny kitchen. There was Korean music playing from Jimin's phone, and he shook his ass to it. Literally. He was moving back and forth as he banged pots and pans together and crafted Korean cuisine for them to eat.

Living in New York City meant the apartments were cramped yet somehow cost over a thousand dollars per month. Jimin's was no different. Well, minus the fact that it was less decorated than she was expecting.

Unlike most people (that Y/n knew of), Jimin was a minimalist. His apartment was barren except for the necessities, like a sofa, kitchen table, TV, and bedroom. Even the sofa wasn't anything extravagant. Granted, he was from another country, so she presumed he didn't have much in the way of cash to spend on decorations.

Y/n rolled herself into the kitchen and noticed the floor was smooth. It was the classic black and white tiles she had seen in numerous TV shows and movies. The entire abode had a white and black theme, but there was an emphasis on the softer color. The walls were white and the lights were dim. Cabinets were mounted on the wall and placed around a window that was above the sink. Jimin navigated easily enough and opened countless cabinets to steal the spices and seasonings inside.

"I hope you don't mind spicy food," Jimin said as he added a powder to one of his many pots. The electric stove had four burners, and all four of them were in use.

"It's okay." She motioned to her wheelchair despite his eyes not being on her. "I'm obviously into pain."

He snorted and had to cough (away from the food). Then, he went back to cooking, and the smells were a concoction of spices that had her nose flaring and her eyes tearing up. Although she didn't mind spicy food, she knew damn well she'd have a runny nose and teary eyes for the remainder of her time with Jimin.

"I'm asking because I'm curious, not because I'm not happy to be here," Y/n started, and when Jimin nodded, she took it as permission to continue. "Why don't you celebrate this with Hoseok or Jungkook? Or even Inspector Min?"

"Jungkook and I have a complicated relationship." Jimin paused to stir. It smelled like a chicken dish, but thanks to her limited elevation, she couldn't see what he was making. "His past with Korea isn't as pleasant as mine."

"But..." Your best friend literally died was what she wanted to say, but she figured that was insensitive. It wasn't like she had social skills, so she couldn't tell for sure, but she knew people got emotional when talking about trauma. The last thing she wanted to do was make Jimin uncomfortable. He was making her food. Free food was enough to shut her up.

"Irene made Korea amazing," Jimin murmured with a hitch in his voice.

He tightened his grip on his wooden spoon. His utensil collection, which was proudly displayed in a little black container shaped like a cylinder, was cheese-themed. His spoon had a cheese logo on it with the words, "Sweet dreams are made of cheese" underneath it. One of the other spoons said, "Who am I to dis a brie?"

She didn't know what that meant, but it sounded... cheesy.

"I love South Korea, Y/n." He put his spoon down and shifted so he could face her. His puppy eyes locked on hers, and he had rosy cheeks that caused his freckles to blend in with the tint of his skin. "Irene's passing was hard." He paused to sigh. "Still is. I miss her every day, but unlike Jungkook, my memories of Korea are good. They're positive. I loved my job, I loved the food, I loved my family, I loved the activities, I loved... June. Jungkook can't say the same."

Jimin went to stir again, but he continued speaking as he did. "Hoseok is spending Chuseok with Seulgi, and if I'm being honest, I'm kind of scared of Yoongi. I'd rather not spend a holiday with him."

"So you chose me. You sure you don't want to spend it with your buddy Kasper?"

Jimin choked over his own laughter and almost fell over. "And get called a chink all day? No thanks."

"What does that mean?" Y/n asked, although she regretted asking it.

"Ah, don't worry about it. Let's keep your innocence."

Y/n didn't consider herself innocent, but the more she thought about it, the more she realized he had a point. She was innocent. At least to certain parts of the world. Her childhood was far from joyful, but she didn't know about the political climate of America or the realities of working a nine to five. Her experiences were limited to street fighting and hiding in an old man's apartment while binge-watching the Fast and Furious movies.

Innocence wasn't a word she associated with herself. Was it bad that she wanted to? There were no words, other than useless, that she thought of while describing herself. It was like she was a blank slate waiting for writing. She wondered how she could write her story, but she always found herself struggling to get past the first page.

Jimin shut off all four burners the stove had. "You are innocent. You know that, right?"

"I don't know." Her words felt heavy as they came out. She didn't know how else to say them. "I guess I have a lot to learn."

He laughed. It was sweet. Some squeaky noises came out. "Y/n, that's not what innocent means. You can know everything and still be innocent." Jimin set the pots and pans off to the side and leaned against the counter. He had a black turtleneck on, and he rolled up the sleeves that were damp on bottom thanks to how often he had washed his hands while cooking. "It's more the way you handle yourself. Don't get me wrong, you're a jerk, but you saw the best in me when I was at my worst. You had every right to slap me for how I treated you."

"I should have."

Jimin chuckled. "You have a free pass, use it any time." He pushed off the counter and came closer. He knelt so they could be eye-level. "You're innocent because you want to trust people. You may not notice it, but despite growing up in shit, you latched yourself onto Seulgi and Hobi as soon as you met them. Maybe you latched onto me, too. And from what I can tell, you've spent your whole life wanting to be a police officer. You've been trying to find a way to make a positive impact on the world even though it wasn't kind to you. To me, that's what innocence looks like. A pure devotion to doing the right thing while society tells you to fuck off."

It was weird how his words felt like a compliment. She had spent so long believing he was just like her parents. They had berated her and hammered into her mind that she'd never be good enough, and Jimin yelling at her that she had deserved her childhood only reinforced that fact; however, his words were healing. They were the band-aid she desperately needed.

"So I'm a goody two-shoes?

He smiled. It crinkled his eyes. "Maybe, but hey, look on the bright side, yeah? I'm making you food cause I like you that much. If being a good girl means you get free food, I'd say that's a win."

She snickered and nudged his shoulder. "You like me?"

"Alright, forget I said that. Jungkook would never let me live that down," Jimin said as he went back to the stove.

With his one working hand, Jimin managed to make them an entire meal, including what he called... actually, she had no idea what they were called. It was a Korean word, and she had no clue how to pronounce it.

"Alright, food is ready. We got some jangjorim, yangnyeom chicken, japchae, and kalbi." Jimin pointed to a bottle on the counter that looked like it was made out of wood. "Don't forget my favorite, baekseju. It's a rice wine. Oh, and the banchan."

Banchan, that was it. If Y/n was remembering correctly, Jimin described them as side dishes. It could just be because Y/n grew up on the streets, but all that food and side dishes and rice wine felt like too much. Y/n couldn't recall a time she had eaten more than one dish in one sitting.

Y/n noticed there was a plate off to the side with treats that were shaped like half-moons. She lost count of how many there were, but some were burgundy, others were white, and a few stragglers were a seaweed green.

"What about those?" She motioned to the plate. "The... moon thingys."

"Songpyeon," Jimin said. He turned his head back to shoot her a sheepish smile. "It's made of rice powder."

"Songpon."

"Song-pyeon. There's a y."

Y/n groaned and buried her face in her hands. "English is hard enough, I don't need Korean too."

"That's fair. Y'know, Korean is one of the hardest languages for English-native speakers to learn," Jimin said as he dished out their meals and put them on cheese-themed plates. "Our speaking and grammar is hell for you guys. You have to change the way your tongue moves."

"You could have worded that better."

He sighed. "I take back what I said about the innocence."

Jimin set the table. He had chopsticks, but he was thoughtful enough to get her a fork, spoon, and knife; however, he left chopsticks on the side in case she wanted to try them (spoiler alert: she didn't want to). When he was done, he dragged her chair out of the way then went behind her to roll her over to the table.

"I can roll myself-"

"Nonsense, nonsense," Jimin interrupted with a sassy tongue click. "You're my guest. Allow me to treat you like one."

Once she was settled in, he went to his side and sat across from her. The table itself was neat and made of a white plastic material that made a knocking sound when she placed her knuckles on it. It was a square like most tables were, and it had enough space for two chairs. That meant there wasn't much room for all the dishes Jimin prepared. While Jimin served her proper portions for each meal he had made, she noticed his elbows were struggling to find clean spots to rest as he moved. Y/n found herself in the same conundrum.

"I assume you have questions." Jimin dumped a portion of steaming chicken on her plate. There was something about the smell of fresh meat that had always made her drool. "Ask away."

"Would I sound dumb if I ask what Chuseok is?" she asked, and he chuckled.

"No. In simple terms, it's Korean Thanksgiving. It's a huge festival with traditional games, clothes, and food. Big family day."

"Why don't you go visit your family?" Y/n said with a hitch of hesitancy in her words.

"I want to, but I think you know why. If I go back to Korea, I'm scared I won't leave. Or I'll get too curious and seek out June." Jimin stiffened as he picked up a portion of noodles for himself. "Huh."

"What is it?"

"I'm an idiot."

"Granted. Elaborate?"

"Old Man Pete," Jimin said as he resumed his motions and plopped food on his plate. "I told you to look for him even though you're scared of what you'd find. Now here I am, too scared to look for my little boy."

Y/n couldn't help the soft smile blessing her lips. "Oh, look at that, we have something in common. We're pussies."

He snorted and almost choked on his noodles. He had to take a second to swallow them. "Okay, that was kind of funny." Jimin pointed the tips of his chopsticks at her with a fake threatening expression on his face. "Kind of."

Y/n decided to dig in instead of answering. She also decided not to question his obsession with cheese-themed objects. In a way, she couldn't blame him. Cheese was the shit.

"Can I ask you something else?"

"I'm an open book," Jimin said before pausing and shrugging. "Well, mostly."

She picked up her fork and jabbed it into the noodles Jimin had called japchae. "What's your favorite Korean word?"

Jimin gasped. "You want to know a Korean word? Who are you and what have you done with my partner?"

She gave him the stank eye, and that resulted in him giggling like a toddler. It was incredible, really. She had never seen him so giddy. If anything, he was acting like how she imagined his surrogate son, June, would act.

His eyes crinkled and a single dimple poked against his cheek. His joy allowed her to see the chipped front tooth he had along with the tiny cracks on his lips that were smeared with a light red lip gloss. It made his mouth appear as rosy as his cheeks.

"Shit, you're serious," Jimin said after he recovered from his laughing spree. "Well, it's hard to choose a favorite word, but if you were making me pick, it'd be areumdapda."

"Areumdada."

Jimin snickered. "Cute, but no. Areum-dap-da. It's a dictionary form word, so it needs to be conjugat-"

"Dude," Y/n interrupted as she stabbed her fork through one of the ribs Jimin had called kalbi. "Do I look like I have a degree in English? I don't need the nerd version, I just wanted the word."

He flicked rice at her, and she huffed. That caused him to do a tiny excited bounce in his seat before he turned his attention back to the kitchen table.

Y/n watched him dig in to his meal. He had pouty lips the entire time, and there were tears near the corners of his eyes thanks to the spices. From up close, she felt the burn, too. If the spice smelled, well, spicy, she could only imagine actually eating it.

Tasting the meal was a privilege she never thought she'd get to have. Every dish was packed full of flavor that blended cohesively on her tongue. Nothing was overpowering, not even the spice. Every bite was more delicious than the last. However, as she ate, one question pulled at her mind. Silence hovered between them in favor of wolfing down their food. Still, she couldn't stop herself from speaking.

"What does it mean?"

Jimin paused with a handful of noodles hanging out of his mouth. After a beat, he swallowed and grinned. It flattened his nose and creased his cheeks.

"Beautiful."

☂☂☂

A/N: I published a new short story (less than 20 min read time!) called Delivered, 5:56 p.m. If you have the time, I would really appreciate it if you checked it out. It's a passion project and one very dear to me, so any support is appreciated.

If you're wondering why Dunkin Donuts is always referenced, it's because US Northerners like myself prefer it over other popular cafes. In the City, there are more Dunkins than I can count. I live in New York currently, but in my birth state (Pennsylvania, right under NY), Dunkin is preferred too. We Northerners are awesome.

I know it's fun to giggle at how shit New York City is, but c'mon, Dunkin is superior and New Yorkers have good taste. Argue with the wall.

Also, if you're wondering why Korean is in rom for Y/n's POV, it's simply because there's literally no way she would know the Hangul. I know I've been on record saying I hate using rom, but I just want to keep it a bit consistent. Y/n wouldn't possibly know the spellings and since it's in her POV, I don't think it'd be right to put it in Hangul. So, that's why Jimin has Hangul and Y/n has rom.