Yoongi felt justified enough to do this without telling Taehyung. For a number of reasons, starting with the fact that his name had been brought up without his understanding as to why.

This neighbor of Taehyung's. Jimin, Yoongi recalled his friend mentioning, preceding the brief, upsetting words, "a liar, he's not my friend."

Few words, but they seemed heavy. Yoongi had a lot of questions but one thing he knew for certain was that this "Jimin" had hurt Taehyung in some way, and that didn't sit well with him.

So Yoongi knocked on the stranger's door. His cheerfulness from greeting Tae just seconds ago had already dissipated.

"Who is it?"

Yoongi said nothing. If he spoke, there was a chance this person would react the same way they did yesterday and turn him away.

He knocked again.

This time, it opened.

Jimin, the same blond boy from yesterday, opened the door just enough that he could see who had knocked, and straightaway he attempted to close it again.

Attempted.

He was stopped by Yoongi shoving his arm hastily into the door opening to prevent it from closing. And because of the force Jimin had used in trying to close it, Yoongi's arm was left with quite the physical shock. He couldn't hide it, either, as his reaction to the pain was instinctive and genuine, so much so that it sent Jimin into an immediate panic. This actually worked out in Yoongi's favor, he thought to himself. This person couldn't send him away now. At least not with immense guilt.

"I-I'm so sorry, I didn't expect you to put your arm there, I, I just-"

"I think you broke something."

He had only meant it as a joke, an exaggeration  but it seemed to get through to Jimin on a more serious level. A mental battle appeared to rage in the boy's head for all of two seconds before he caved in and urged Yoongi to go into his apartment. Shutting the door in a hurry, breathing frantically, he gestured at the living room sofa as it was the nearest place to sit down.

"I'm so sorry, I'll take a look at your arm-"

"It's fine," Yoongi interrupted him. He rolled up his sleeve to inspect it himself. "I think you just bruised it."

Jimin didn't seem satisfied with that response. "Are you sure?? You said you might have broken something, I-I can take a look at it, I actually took an online course for bio-"

"Jimin, I didn't come here to play 'doctor-patient' with you, I'm here to interrogate you."

At the unexpected, sour tone of voice that came from Yoongi's mouth, the stranger withdrew himself with confusion, fear, and dread all mixed into those eyes which hesitated to look back at him.

"Interrogate?" Jimin chuckled with apparent nervousness. He placed a hand on the back of his neck. "I...don't think I understand, why would you-"

"Don't play dumb, I know it's got something to do with you." Yoongi massaged the part of his arm that had been crushed by the door, wincing as pain once again shot through him. Jimin flinched.

"I'll get you ice for that, I'm so sorry, oh my gosh, I'm so sorry..."

"Stop apologizing."

"Here."

He was back in the blink of an eye, a small towel in hand, wrapped in cold, cold ice. Yoongi hated the feeling of anything cold against his skin but just as he had recommended for Jungkook, he knew it was one of the best and simplest things for bruises. He sighed and accepted the towel and pressed it to his arm. "Thanks."

"No, I'm sorry-"

"Enough with the sorry's," Yoongi groaned, "you can start saying sorry when you tell me what you did to Taehyung."

"To-"

The accusation earned such an obvious reaction from the blond. A twitch of the eye, the brow, and the lips, as well as an abrupt, downward movement of the head so as to hide his face from Yoongi.

"Don't deny that there's something," he said to Jimin, maintaining that low and solemn tone of his that demanded attention. "I spoke with him last night. I asked him if you two were friends, and if that's why you knew my name, but he, rather curtly I might add, called you a liar and ended the conversation."

Guilty silence. As Yoongi predicted.

"Now I don't know how much you know about me, Jimin, if it's just my name or much more than that, but in case you don't already know I'll tell you one thing, the most important thing, and that is that I don't tolerate people hurting Taehyung. Do I make myself clear?"

It wasn't just an act. It was precisely what prompted Yoongi to come here in the first place, which is why he managed to deliver these words with such conviction. Getting people to understand how much he cared about Taehyung had never been an issue. Especially ever since the incident back in high school when everything went downhill for that poor boy, and when Yoongi developed a deep-set hatred for 90% of the human race.

He didn't like the feeling. But he wouldn't make exceptions. Unless this person could clear things up in a legitimate and plausible way, he would just become one of many on Yoongi's list of potential threats.

However Yoongi did consider himself reasonable to an extent. He would hear Jimin out.

"It's all...it's all a big misunderstanding-"

"How so?" Yoongi quirked an eyebrow in curiosity. "Those are such cliché words so I hope you mean them."

"I do," Jimin blurted. "I swear I do, Yoongi-"

"Again with my name."

The blond shut his mouth.

"I've never told you my name, yet you know it." Yoongi clenched his teeth as he held the iced towel against his throbbing arm. "You gotta start answering some questions here, pal. Did Taehyung tell you? Is that how you know? But he said you guys weren't friends. And you yelled at me yesterday, you didn't seem happy to see me at all, what was that about?"

He didn't consider the barrage of questions might overwhelm the boy, but soon he came to realize this as Jimin's hands reached up towards his face, visibly shaking.

"My bad, one at a time," Yoongi said quickly. Unfortunately, it didn't seem to help much. Without warming Jimin stood up from the couch, made a hurried dash into the kitchen, and yanked out one of the counter's drawers to retrieve something.

Yoongi didn't move. But his mind jumped to conclusions.

"If I turn around and you've got a knife, I'll warn you now, Jimin, my sister took judo lessons before she decided to become a cook and I've learned a thing or two about self-defense."

Deep down he knew that wasn't what Jimin had gotten up to do. But at the same time, he hadn't a clue what the boy had gotten up to do. So in puzzlement Yoongi shifted slightly in his seat to peer into the kitchen.

Jimin had equipped himself with a sharp object - not a knife, though, but a mere thumb tack.

"Slamming my arm in the door wasn't enough for you?"

Again, just a joke. But the quivering of the blond's lip and the severe change in his facial expression suggested something else was wrong.

"What's the tack for?"

Jimin didn't speak. In some sort of frenzied daze, the boy's trembling gaze flickered between the tack and his own hand in quite a concerning manner.

"...what...are you doing with-"

It happened in the beat of a heart. A rushed, forward movement of the arm, causing the sharp point of the tack to prick the fragile skin of this boy's index finger. Yoongi jumped involuntarily.

"What on earth is wrong with you??" He scolded, resting a hand over his chest. "Gave me a heart attack, what kind of reckless-"

He stopped mid-sentence at the realization Jimin was holding up his finger now, the one he had just forcefully pricked without a reason. Well, at least it seemed without a reason.

The tack had gone deep enough to draw blood.

Blue.

Yoongi felt his stomach churn. Mixed feelings, confusion, and more questions. It was incomprehensible. "You're...you're like Tae, then," he breathed. His eyes darted up towards Jimin's. "Does Tae know about this??"

Whether it had already been building up or if this question alone had triggered it, tears began to surface in Jimin's eyes and within seconds the boy had lost control. His composure shattering like glass on concrete, knees collapsing as he fell to the floor just to hold his face in his hands. The newly acquired wound, albeit small, leaked and smeared blood onto his skin from that action.

Yoongi didn't know how to react. But he wanted to do something, felt obligated, almost, as in that moment he was reminded of Taehyung. Even more so when he heard Jimin begin to breathe unsteadily.

"H-hey, don't start hyperventilating on me now." Yoongi placed a tentative hand on Jimin's shoulder. "C'mon, relax, slow, deep breaths, you gotta stop crying, that's only going to make it more difficult. Can you hear me, Jimin? Let me know you can at least hear me."

A gradual nod that quickly turned into more resolute nodding.

"Good. Now sit up here on the couch until you calm down."

Jimin awkwardly got to his feet and allowed Yoongi to coax him into sitting down again. The sobbing had ceased, but the salty tears still marked up his face.

"You're a mess, aren't you?"

"I know." Jimin sniffled. He tried rubbing away the small amount of blood smeared on his cheek but by doing so spread it around even more.

Yoongi sighed deeply. "I'm conflicted," he said. "Don't know if I should wait till you get yourself together or ask you now while you're vulnerable. 'Cus you've got a lot of talking to do, Jimin..."

"But Yoongi I don't want to tell you."

The sadness, the desperation in Jimin's voice struck a chord in Yoongi's chest. "Even still," he said, "you gotta start somewhere. What exactly did you lie about to Taehyung? Why's he upset with you?"

"I've been his neighbor for a while," the blond confessed, "but I never told him that I knew about his blood, or that I had a similar condition. I did eventually tell him," he went on to add, "but it wasn't until I lied about being someone else. I pretended to be someone else because I didn't want him knowing it was me, and he found out on his own..."

Yoongi jumped on the thought. "But why did you not want him knowing in the first pl-?"

"I don't deserve to have back what I lost, okay?!"

It shut Yoongi up in an instant. He stared unblinkingly at the boy.

"Not Tae, not you..."

"Jimin, you need to explain yourself right now."

"I don't want to!!"

"I'm never leaving then."

The determination in those words. Vivid. Impacting.

"Yoongi, please..."

"Tell me what you haven't told him, Jimin."

At this point, the battle had been won and they both knew it. Yoongi wouldn't move till he got the answers he wanted, and Jimin was in far too unstable a state to argue with him any longer.

"I don't deserve to have back what I lost."

Whispered this time. Yoongi kept quiet as Jimin once again got to his feet and started to walk away. Yoongi craned his neck to keep him in sight.

"Hey, where do you think you're going?"

"To find it. I try burying it sometimes but it always shows up again."

Vagueness. Yoongi turned around and released a deep breath. 'It'...?

He pondered what Jimin could be referring to, but nothing seemed right. He had no idea what to think of any of this, what to make of any of this, he had so many unanswered questions in his head that he forgot entirely about the pain in his arm.

After some time Jimin finally came back.

With heavy steps, heavy, almost fearful steps, he walked towards the couch where Yoongi was waiting anxiously.

"What is it?"

There was something in Jimin's hand. Two somethings, it appeared. Thin, rectangular somethings.

"Photographs?"

He hesitated noticeably to extend his arm to Yoongi once he had reached the couch.

But Yoongi was tired of waiting and snatched them out of Jimin's grasp.

The first photo:

The second:

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end of chapter twenty-two.