"the fuck did you just say to me?"

yoongi felt his face heat up, anger flaring through his bones with so much fire that he could barely feel it burn. in front of him stood the boy with dip dyed green hair and rebellious eyes, clad in his usual unbuttoned uniform and free spirit, with a hint of malice in his gaze.

"i said you should fuck off. and that you're a delusional piece of shit," taehyung said, flatly. "you think your whole hero-facade is gonna get you anywhere?" he scoffed, rolling his eyes, and yoongi raised an eyebrow. "you think being a good, hard-working person gets you anywhere? fuck out of here with that shit. that's how you get taken advantage of and fucked over like everyone else."

"it costs nothing to be a decent person, kim taehyung."

"it also costs nothing to be a dick. might as well live your life, no?"

the boy lit a cigarette, the orange glow lighting up the now dim storage room. the sun was beginning to set, leaving the room dark other than the soft glow of the sun from the windows. he took a long drag, blowing the smoke into yoongi's face.

yoongi responded by plucking the cigarette from between his fingers, taking a drag of his own, blowing the smoke straight back to the scum of the earth where it belonged, and dropping the cigarette to the ground.

"you think you're hot shit because you've got guts," yoongi snarled. "but that doesn't mean shit when you can't even take responsibility for the shit you start."

he raised a fist and swung.

* * *

taehyung got home that night with a split lip and bruised knuckles. there was probably some bruising on his torso, but he found that to be the least of his worries when he could hear the sound of the tv coming faintly from his living room.

"the fuck were you doing out so late?"

taehyung bit his lip, bringing himself inevitably into the living room to face his father.

"got into a fight," he murmured. "some kid wouldn't back off."

his father scoffed. "is this what i raised? a delinquent?"

"like you raised me at all."

taehyung had said it under his breath, or so he thought. his father stood from the couch, dropping his drink to the ground and letting it shatter. "say that shit again."

taehyung smirked. "you didn't raise me." he could feel some sense of fear rising in his throat and bubbling over his skin, but maintained a facade of nonchalance. he stared up at his father with a glint in his eyes, pushing his anger above his fear to the surface of his gaze. "you starved me. beat me. raised me? i fucking raised myself."

his father's fist came flying at his cheek, sending him to the floor. "after all this shit i did for you, you talk to me like that?" he kicked him in the stomach and taehyung groaned. "get onto your fucking hands and knees."

though rebellion ran through his veins, taehyung found himself always submissive to his father's words. he had never managed to leave the clutches of his seven year old self when it came to his father. something about the man that stood before him made him feel small again.

he obeyed, expecting the burn of the belt hitting his skin but nonetheless crying out when it happened.

"you're fucking ungrateful."

after what felt like an eternity of burning lashes to his back, his father dropped the belt and kicked him, landing him flat on the floor, hitting his cheek on the wood with bruising force. he felt a strong hand lift him with grip on his hair, slamming him against the wall. his back ached at the impact. his head spun.

his father punched him in the stomach, and when taehyung tried to wrap an arm around the bruise to ease the pain, slammed his shoulder against the wall instead. taehyung couldn't breathe.

"you talk to me like that one more time and i'll lock your ass in your room like i did when you were a kid, you hear me?"

he let taehyung fall, spitting in his direction and leaving the room. taehyung let out a hollow, breathy laugh. he couldn't even feel the glass in his hands, the blood pooling onto his palms.

oh how he hated this.

* * *

yoongi cocked his head when he saw taehyung at school.

had he done that much damage?

there was a bandaid on his forehead, barely covered by his bangs, and bandages on his hands.

the kid could barely stand.

when he all but fell into his chair in the classroom, yoongi almost felt concerned. his concern melted immediately at the glare the boy sent his way, replaced once again by the anger and hatred he had felt from the moment they had exchanged words.

* * *

when the bell rang for lunch, taehyung stayed in his seat, lowering his head onto the desk.

yoongi smirked, making his way to the boy and sitting down at the desk in front of him. "you're not gonna eat today either?"

taehyung didn't stir, instead mumbling a reply. "fuck off, yoongi. i'm not doing this shit today."

"you're in a sour mood."

"no point in going to the cafeteria when i don't have shit to eat and can't find it in myself to stand up," taehyung muttered, clearly exasperated. "just leave me alone."

"did i really do that much damage?" yoongi teased. when there was no response, he spoke up again. "eating would help your energy, and your piss sour mood," yoongi teased. "just come to the fucking rooftop. jimin, jungkook, and jin are coming today too."

taehyung scoffed, finally lifting his head from the desk. yoongi could now see the evident exhaustion in his face, skin pale, cheeks hollow, and eyes bloodshot. the bruise on his cheekbone looked too dark.

"thought you hated me."

"not enough to let you starve," yoongi said. "you can share our lunches. get up."