JIMIN

"N-Noona doesn't know."

I look up from icing the top of a cake. Jungkook's pacing frantically behind the counter, murmuring over and over again.

"She doesn't know when she's coming, she—"

"Kookie, why do you look so sad?" I whisper, offering him a piece of bread. He chews on it, but he doesn't look any different.

"Don't be sad."

I push the dough he was playing with towards him, but he shakes his head firmly.

"Hyung-ah."

"Yeah?"

Jungkook grips his hands tightly together. "Do you think Noona might get to like Taehyung-ssi more than me?"

He starts to blink furiously.

"What if she doesn't come back for a long time? She said she d-didn't know, and I thought that this was just going to be for a short time, hyung. That's why I told her to be w-with him, because sharing is a good thing. But what if she—"

I pat his back.

"She won't do that."

He squeezes his eyes shut. I laugh when he hugs me tightly, voice shaking.

"Y-You sure, right?"

"Of course." I smile, moving my hand to pat at the top of his head instead. "Besides, you'll always have me. I'm with you, aren't I?"

But he doesn't say anything, making me look up.

He's turned his face away. And my heart's quiet as it crashes against the bottom of my chest.

Of course.

I'm not her. I'm not Rieul.

My gaze slowly falls to the tiled floor, the words all fading from my lips.

I'm just her makeshift replacement.

________________________

RIEUL

Finally.

I quickly change out of my hospital scrubs, a big smile on my face. It was the end of my shift.

Piling my stuff in my arms, I hurry out of the locker room and towards the parking lot. Taehyung would be waiting  there— he'd already texted me to "hurry the hell up".

I'm speed walking down the concrete pathway when my eyes catch on a patient on the bench.

I blink.

Outdoor time was over just a few minutes ago.

Shifting my stuff, I quickly make my way towards the man. He doesn't notice me until I'm really near him, to tap him on the shoulder.

"Excuse me, but you—"

He slaps my hand away.

"Leave me alone!" He yells, and I recognize the patient. The one with IED— and now he was having an episode.

I put a caregiver smile on my face.

"I'm sorry." I say soothingly, putting my hands behind my back. "But it might rain soon, so it's better to go inside. You can—"

He bursts up from the bench.

But I don't flinch, just keeping the smile on my face. I'd worked at a psychiatric hospital for years.

I could handle this.

"Come on, it's alright." I blink, pointing at the darkening skies. "But you're going to get wet if—"

"Shut up!"

I'd kind of braced myself for it, but it still takes me aback when he grabs my shoulders and shoves me harshly into the grass.

My stuff scatters everywhere.

"Just stop talking, dammit!" He curses, and I wrap my hands over my head when I peek up to see him raise his fist.

He's a patient. He's a—

But a cold, dark voice comes before I feel the blow, and I instantly snap my head up in shock.

"Taehyung!" I yell, shuffling up to my feet the moment I see his golden eyes lit with fire.

He's already thrown the man to the ground, his expression full of psychopathic amusement as he draws his hand back.

"Did you just touch her?"

Squeezing my eyes shut, I wrap my arms around his waist and dig the heels of my feet into the ground. His entire body's trembling with anger.

"Taehyung, please. He's an IED patient! He's a—"

He whips towards me.

"And why should I care? I'm a schizoid psychopath. So in your sense of mind, Miss Jeon, I'm allowed to do everything I'm about to do."

I plant my feet further, shaking my head wildly.

"No, no— Taehyung. That's not, that's not what I mean."

"Let. Go."

"No!" I yelp, and look up to see that nurses were pulling back the patient and leading him inside the hospital. Relief crashes down on my chest.

But him.

He's staring at me with that look in his eyes— all surprise and disappointment. A lot of disappointment.

"Unbelievable."

"I'm sorry." I hadn't realized I was starting to cry, until it drops to my hands. "But you're not. You're not going to be a psychopath because you're changing."

I let him go, swiping at my face.

"You're healing, Kim Taehyung. I just can't let—"

"And this?"

I sniffle when he lifts up my hand— the back of it scratched up and bleeding when I'd hit it against the concrete.

"That's just..."

"Just. Just what?" Taehyung's gaze flattens, and I start chewing on my lip as he wipes at the blood. "It's nothing, because that's just the way you think, isn't it?"

He muses lowly, imitating my voice.

"It's okay if I get hurt. But at the same time, it's not okay if someone else gets hurt. So I have to hold it all in, so there's no consequences."

He sighs.

"That's your problem, Rieul."

"It's not okay if you get hurt."

_________________________

JIMIN

"Jungkook, come eat!"

But for the third time I call him, there's no answer. Leaving the set plates on the table, I head to his room to look for him.

I'm right outside his door when I hear Jungkook's trembling voice.

"Why not— why isn't she picking up?"

I stop.

My heart drops a bit when I peek into the tiny gap between the door and the frame, to see him clutching his phone tightly in his hands.

He presses the call button again.

"Should be answering... it's the end of her shift, I know it. It's the end of her shift."

But the call keeps ringing, until it stops and leads onto voicemail.

Rieul. Why aren't you answering?

I'm about to go in and comfort him when he buries his face in his hands. The phone slips from his fingers, clattering down on the table he's sitting at.

I press my palm against the door to push it open.

"Noona, I miss you." He cries, and I'm about to call his name when the words shove themselves back down my throat.

"I don't want to live with Jiminie hyung anymore."

I stumble back.

The sound of Jungkook's pitiful sobbing echoes in my ears as I push my back against the wall, my eyes stinging with tears.

My crying is quiet against his.

I don't know how much time pass before Jungkook stops crying, but I push up to my feet weakly when he does.

My eyes all red and swollen, I silently push the door into his room.

He's cried himself to sleep.

His head is turned away from me, dropped into crossed arms on the table when I come in. There's tear tracks on his cheeks, lit dimly with the desk light.

Sniffling, I wrap my arm around his shoulders.

"I'm sorry." I whisper, tears welling at my eyes again. "I'm sorry, Kookie."

I'm sorry I'm not enough.

I'm sorry I can't be a better caregiver.

The only sound that comes next in the room is the soft sound of my tears, and even that I force to be quiet.

I couldn't wake Jungkook.