I FOUND FUTURE IN YOU | KM [✓]°

2

Jimin sat against the cold, crumbling wall of the abandoned park, his knees drawn up to his chest. The wind howled around him, biting at his skin through his thin jacket, and the overcast sky seemed to press down on him with a weight he could barely bear. His fingers trembled as he hugged his arms tighter around his body, trying in vain to ward off the cold. He hadn’t realized how much time had passed since he’d sent that first message to Jihyun. His heart thudded painfully in his chest as he anxiously stared at the empty street in front of him, waiting for his brother to show up.

His thoughts raced in frantic circles, every scenario growing worse with each passing second. What if something happened to him? What if he’s in trouble? The feeling of helplessness clung to him like a shadow. Jihyun had always been there for him—protective, dependable, calm—but now Jimin felt as though he were waiting in a nightmare he couldn’t wake up from.

Fumbling in his pocket, Jimin pulled out his phone again and, with shaky hands, shot off another message to his brother.

Jiminie—
"Where are you, Jihyun?"

He hit send and stared at the screen, waiting for the reply that seemed to never come. His breath hitched in his throat as the minutes crawled by, each one dragging him deeper into a pit of anxiety. He pulled the sleeves of his jacket tighter around his wrists, as if the fabric could shield him from the gnawing fear building up inside.

Just as he was about to send another message, the phone buzzed in his hand, startling him. For a split second, a wave of relief washed over him. It’s him. It’s Jihyun, Jimin thought, desperately hoping for the familiar voice on the other end. But as the screen lit up, his heart skipped a beat.

It wasn’t his brother’s name that appeared. It was his mother’s.

Did Jihyun tell eomma?

Jimin’s stomach clenched as the phone vibrated in his palm. He stared at the incoming call, a pit of dread forming in his stomach. He didn’t want to answer it. He couldn’t. Not when he had no answers, not when he didn’t know where Jihyun was or if he was okay.

But the phone rang again, this time louder, more urgent, and Jimin’s trembling fingers automatically pressed the green button, bringing the phone to his ear. He inhaled deeply, trying to steady himself.

"J-Jimin, w-where a-are… you?" His mother’s voice was barely audible at first, breaking with the strain of tears. She was crying. Jimin could barely process what she was saying, but the tremor in her voice made his heart freeze.

His throat tightened, and he couldn’t respond. He wanted to ask her what was going on, why she was crying, but his mother didn’t give him a chance.

"Eomm—" Jimin tried to speak, but his words were cut off by his mother’s frantic sobs.

"Jimin... c-come to h-hospital... Y-your brother... h-hurt... h-heart... n-not... beating."

The world seemed to tilt beneath him. The ground felt like it was giving way. His vision blurred as the phone slipped from his hand, landing on the hard, wet ground with a soft thud. His breath caught in his throat, and he didn’t know if he could breathe at all. His pulse hammered in his ears, louder than anything he had ever heard before.

His brother. Jihyun.

The words his mother had said echoed in his mind over and over. Your brother… hurt… heart… not beating.

Not beating.

Jimin didn’t even realize he was crying until he felt the wetness on his cheeks. His chest felt tight, as if there were no room to breathe, no room to think. He tried to move, tried to stand up, but his legs wouldn’t obey. They gave out beneath him, and he collapsed onto the cold, dirty ground, his body trembling uncontrollably.

"I k-killed him." His voice broke, the words barely a whisper as they escaped from his lips. But they were there. They had been there the entire time, festering, waiting for him to admit the truth.

Jimin curled into a ball on the ground, pressing his hands over his face, but it didn’t stop the thoughts from coming, didn’t stop the weight of guilt from crushing him.

It’s my fault.

I killed Jihyun.

If he hadn’t messaged his brother, if he hadn’t insisted on meeting him, none of this would have happened. Jihyun would have been safe at home, waiting for him like always, and none of this—none of the pain, the confusion, the terror—would have happened.

He clutched his chest as if trying to stop the sharp ache that threatened to tear him apart from the inside. His brother was dead. He was gone. And it was all because of him. Because Jimin had called for help when he shouldn’t have.

If he hadn’t called, if he hadn’t been so desperate to see Jihyun, he would have been home. Safe. Alive.

But now… now it was too late.

Tears blurred Jimin’s vision, and his sobs wracked his body, each breath more painful than the last. He stayed there in the dirt, unable to move, unable to do anything but feel the weight of the horrible truth settling over him.

It was his fault. He had killed his brother.

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I'm sick but here the update, anyways!