Monday, March 10th

As much as he wished he could be excused from PE for the rest of his life, Yoongi sadly found himself changing into his gym clothes at the start of a new week. All pain from his concussion had faded. Physically, he was doing perfectly fine, so there was no reason for his teachers to give him another pass. On the bright side, there wasn't dodgeball today, meaning Yoongi wouldn't have to be extra wary around a certain Jeon Jungkook. On the not-bright side, there was running to be done. Laps for all students around a track longer than the distance Yoongi walked in an entire day.

That wasn't really saying much, but still...

Three laps. It didn't sound like a lot. But Yoongi knew that it was. At least for him. Though this time, if he passed out, Namjoon could come to his rescue, since classes weren't separated for this activity. As it should be, Yoongi thought. Segregation is messed up.

As Yoongi was tying his shoe at the start of the track, he felt a presence looming over him. A shadow cast on his feet. But he didn't lift his head. It wasn't Namjoon. He knew that much.

"Yoongi! I thought I recognized that distinct green hair of yours!"

Oh no. Yoongi froze. He clenched the shoelace in his hand. Pretend you don't notice him. Pretend you don't hear him. Maybe he'll go away.

"Don't you remember me? It's Hoseok! Your coworker?? C'mon, lift that head and lemme see them baby blues!"

"My eyes are brown." Ah, shoot. Why did I open my mouth.

Heaving a sigh of exasperation, Yoongi finally rose to his feet and surrendered to Hoseok's incessant bugging. The redhead wore a pastel green headband that was uncannily close to the color of Yoongi's hair... His arms were on his hips, and as he beamed with the energy of a thousand suns, his tan skin shone with blinding brilliance. Yoongi squinted.

"Gorgeous day to go running, don't ya think so?"

He didn't think so. It was too early for him to think at all, let alone go jogging in circles against his will. Yoongi groaned and shifted his gaze.

"Not into exercise much?" Hoseok asked. "I understand. I never used to be, either. Up until my last year of middle school. Now I go to the gym whenever I get the chance."

He raised his arms in the air and began to stretch. Yoongi figured this would be the perfect opportunity to slip away and go find Namjoon, but then Hoseok opened his mouth again.

"I used to be really overweight, ya know." He pursed his lips and gave a quiet hum. "I still remember getting made fun of all the time, especially in middle school. There was this one guy in particular who already didn't like me very much, and he always used my weight as a reason to beat me up. Don't get me wrong, I love people, but he wasn't a very nice guy. Pushed me down the stairs one time. No fun. Very no fun."

Though he would have liked to think he was listening indifferently, Yoongi found himself wondering how Hoseok could be so open about such a sensitive topic. Not to mention how casual he sounded about it. Did he do this often or something? Did it come naturally to him? Whatever be the case, Yoongi wasn't sure how to respond, or if he were meant to respond at all. So he stood silent and still for a moment, holding his breath.

"You doing okay?" Hoseok leaned slightly to the side to peer at Yoongi's tilted face. "You're pale. Were you always this pale? I'm not very observant so I wouldn't know. Ah! I almost forgot! You were the one who got knocked unconscious by a dodgeball last week, right? That's crazy! How's your head? Still hurt? Man, I don't know Jungkook very well, but the boy must have one heck of an arm to throw like he did. How long were you out? The longest I've ever been unconscious was thirty-six hours."

Th-thirty-six?? That's a day and a half!

"Looks like we're supposed to start running any second now," Hoseok noted, seeing their PE coach with his whistle in his mouth. "Hey, Yoongi, wanna run together? I'll slow my pace to match you." Then he chuckled at his own "joke" and nudged a very unamused Yoongi. "Ah? Ah? We could catch up!"

"Catching up is something that friends do," Yoongi said bitterly.

"Aren't we friends?"

"No."

"That can change!"

"No, it can't."

The whistle sounded. Yoongi, now with his shoes tied and a desire to escape the single-minded Hoseok, took off right away. He had hoped he could at least put a little space between them, then perhaps he and Namjoon would miraculously find each other and he would be saved. But Hoseok was relentless. And for whatever reason, he really did not want to let Yoongi get away. He happily jogged beside him, eyes fixed on the mint-haired boy's face rather than on the track in front of him. Why? Yoongi wondered. Why doesn't he go join his other friends? I know he has them. They're the ones who were being obnoxious in the shop when I was trying to work. So why is he hanging around me of all people? We're polar opposites. Yoongi clenched his teeth and slowed his pace a bit.

"Why are you following me anyway?"

"I want to be your friend," Hoseok replied with a smile, seeming as though he had been waiting for the question. "I thought that was obvious."

"Well, I'm not looking for any more friends."

"Why not?"

"There's no need."

He slowed his jogging even more. Exercise really wasn't his thing.

Hoseok matched Yoongi's pace again. "I've never felt that way," he began in a somewhat quiet voice, "so I can't say I understand. I've always wanted friends. Always. 'Cuz I used to be so alone, and I hated it. And I've never seen you smile before, so I'm worried you're the same w-"

"My life is none of your business. Get away from me."

Yoongi hadn't intended to spit out his words so harshly. But that's just how they came. And it was too late to reel them back, so he simply maintained his morose demeanor, pretending to be legitimately angry with Hoseok, when in reality he was only feeling anxious again. Anxious that yet another person was trying to get close to him. Yoongi stopped walking. Hoseok didn't.

As it should be. We're both better off this way.

He was lying to himself. It was the anthropophobia, his own personal devil.

A few seconds passed, and Yoongi heard a whistle blown sharply, followed by the coach's raspy shout: "That's a long enough break, Min, let's keep moving!"

"Tired already?"

Namjoon came up behind Yoongi and casually slipped an arm around him. Thinking that fatigue was the only issue, he was surprised to see his friend's expression a bit troubled. Yoongi tried to camouflage it. But alas, few things could get by the great Kim Namjoon.

"C'mon. We better keep walkin' or Coach'll have a hissy fit."

Yoongi agreed. He let Namjoon's arm push him gently forward, and before long, the two were back to a comfortable jogging speed. Yoongi spotted Hoseok running alone in the distance. He immediately lowered his head, pretending not to have noticed.

"Okay, speak."

Yoongi grunted. "Speaking and moving at the same time is exhausting. Request denied."

"It wasn't a request. Tell me what's wrong, Yoongs."

"It's your fault for not staying with me."

At that moment Yoongi gathered up what strength he had so that he could speed ahead, just a little, just to put some space between him and Namjoon.

"Oh, really. You're gonna play this game."

Namjoon had no issue with it. He took a couple strides and next thing Yoongi knew he was being carried bridal style in Namjoon's arms. Somewhere behind them several students laughed amongst themselves at the sight. Sensing this, Yoongi struggled so that Namjoon had no choice but to put his feet on solid ground. And he was smacked on the head.

"Just for that, I'm not telling you anything."

Namjoon sighed. "Of course not..."

----------

For the rest of that week, Yoongi noticed something rather strange. Hoseok wasn't trying to talk to him. At all. Not at school when the two happened to pass by each other. And not at the ice cream parlor when they both had to work shifts. Yoongi knew that it was because of him. Because of what he said to Hoseok, how he made the boy feel as though he wanted to be nothing more than strangers. He wished it didn't bother him. He wished he could forget ever saying what he said.

Unfortunately apologies weren't his style, so suffering regrets was his only option.

That is, until the weekend arrived.

On Friday, after school, Yoongi was scheduled to work from 5:00 to 10:00, which was the shop's closing time. A headache had surfaced in the middle of the day, so he wasn't particularly looking forward to working, but he didn't want to take off, either, since he had just taken off for his birthday five days ago. He urged himself to endure it. It was only five hours. Five hours, and he could go home. Five hours, and he could rest.

Hoseok was quiet again today. Still he hummed and smiled and greeted customers kindly, but he didn't break into song as he had in the past or do little dances behind the counter or when making his way into the back room. And Yoongi continued to believe he was to blame.

But it was fine. Yoongi insisted he wanted no unnecessary interaction anyway. The more people ignored him the better. That way he could stay in his comfort zone.

However at around 9:45 that night, an unexpected visitor walked into Busan Parlor, having no intention of purchasing anything, but rather to see a certain someone. Quite a menacing-looking fellow, veiny hands and forearms, narrow eyes, a nearly bald head, and a tattoo which was visible beneath the collar of a school uniform--not Yoongi's school, but this boy was a student nonetheless. There weren't any other customers in the shop at the time. The manager had left to make a quick visit to a place across the street. Though he claimed he wouldn't be gone long, he left Yoongi in charge until he returned.

"Welcome to Busan Parlor, how may I help you?"

Greeting the stranger alone was hard enough. And to receive such a cold glare in response made Yoongi's stomach churn and his muscles tense up. Moments later, Hoseok emerged from the back room. And things went downhill from there. The stranger and Hoseok locked eyes, then in a matter of seconds, the latter was pressed up against the wall by a furious hand that gripped his collar, while the other hand had taken a handful of his red hair, holding it tightly. Yoongi's breath hitched. Why now? Why did something like this have to happen now of all times? Now, when he could count the number of people present on one hand?

Truthfully, though, he didn't really know what was happening. These two were not friends; Yoongi could gather that much. The stranger's left hand now squeezed Hoseok's face, one large boot stepping on the boy's foot. He was saying something to him. Ire words, inaudible to Yoongi at first but a gut feeling told him they weren't words of kindness.

He was frozen. The manager still wasn't back. He could always give him a call. Or simply hide beneath the counter until the intimidating stranger left.

"I thought I made it clear to you, but I see I was wrong. Guess I'll have to push you down the stairs again. Like old times, eh, Hobi?"

"There was this one guy in particular who already didn't like me very much, and he always used my weight as a reason to beat me up. Don't get me wrong, I love people, but he wasn't a very nice guy. Pushed me down the stairs one time. No fun. Very no fun."

He acted in the spur of the moment. What exactly spurred it, he wasn't sure, but not even Yoongi could stop himself from approaching the stranger, and he threw his fist at him, knocking the unsuspecting teen square in the jaw. He stumbled backward, lost his footing, and collapsed, nearly hitting his head against one of the parlor's wooden tables. Yoongi then took hold of Hoseok's wrist and marched out of the shop without looking back. By pure coincidence, the manager was just arriving after his brief outing. Needless to say, he was rather puzzled to see his two employees away from their workstations, one of whom had blood on his cheeks and fingernail imprints.

"Hoseok was assaulted, so he'd like to go home now, sir. Is that alright?"

The manager blinked. "...that's fine," he said, still confused. He then peered into the shop, spotted the assaulter, and breathed softly. "Yoongi, you can go home too. I'll take care of things."

"Thank you, sir."

Yoongi bowed to the manager gratefully before turning his back to him and heading to the bus stop at the end of the block. Without realizing, his hand was still wrapped around Hoseok's wrist, and so he ended up leading the fazed boy all the way there. He let go once they had reached the stop. The next bus scheduled to pass through here was at 9:55. They would have to wait a bit. Yoongi wanted to say something.

But what?

"Yoongi, thank you."

He was crying. Tears ran down his cheeks and gathered the blood drops drawn from the assaulter's nails. Yoongi bit his tongue. He had no idea what to do in a situation like this. Speak, he urged himself. Don't be a jerk. Just speak.

"I'm...sorry."

Hoseok faced him. "What for?"

"For being me. It was uncalled for." Yoongi cleared his throat and nervously tugged at his collar. "I've been pretty mean to you. You didn't deserve it. All you were trying to do was be my friend, yet I told you to piss off."

"You didn't tell me that."

"It was in subtext."

Hoseok stifled a laugh, wiping his face with the apron he was still wearing. Yoongi realized at that moment he was wearing his too. Oh well. I'll return it next time I work.

"You weren't being mean," Hoseok said. His smile was back in place, which, oddly enough, eased Yoongi a bit. "You were guarding yourself, weren't you?"

"Accurate," Yoongi agreed with a nod of the head. "I'm impressed. You said you weren't very observant."

"I did?"

"Yeah."

"Hey, Yoongi?"

"What?"

"Can I have your number?"

"Are you hitting on me?"

"No."

"Then fine."