Should Be You | Jikook ✔️

Prologue

The late afternoon sun cast a golden hue over the playground, where children’s laughter filled the air. Park Jimin stood by the edge of the park, his eyes following the small figures darting across the field, their faces glowing with unfiltered joy.

He watched them chase each other, their feet kicking up the fallen leaves, and for a moment, the corners of his lips lifted into a faint, wistful smile. The innocence and carefree nature of children had always fascinated him—such purity, such boundless energy.

Jimin’s thoughts drifted, his gaze softening as he observed a little boy helping a younger girl who had tripped over her shoelaces. The boy knelt down, patiently tying the laces, and when the girl smiled up at him, Jimin’s chest tightened. He wondered if he would ever experience that kind of unconditional affection, the kind that didn’t expect anything in return, that wasn’t marred by betrayal or disappointment.

But Jimin knew better than to dwell on such thoughts. Experience had taught him that hope was a dangerous thing. He had once been hopeful, optimistic even about finding love, settling down, starting a family of his own. But those dreams had been shattered one by one, leaving behind nothing but scars that ran deep.

The sound of approaching footsteps pulled him out of his reverie. He didn’t need to turn around to know who it was; the hushed giggles and whispers among the teachers had become a familiar background noise whenever he was near. Jimin felt their eyes on him, the curiosity, the admiration—he could sense it all. Even the older teachers, those who were usually more reserved, seemed drawn to him, as if his quiet demeanor and good looks were some sort of irresistible magnet.

“Mr. Park,” a voice called out, soft yet laced with anticipation. Jimin finally turned to see one of the younger teachers, Miss Lee, standing a few feet away with a nervous smile. Her colleagues lingered in the distance, pretending to be engrossed in their conversation but clearly watching the exchange.

"The kids really enjoy it when you’re here,” Miss Lee continued, her smile growing wider as she took a tentative step closer. “It’s rare to see someone who’s so good with children.”

Jimin’s smile was polite but distant. “Thank you, Miss Lee. I enjoy watching them play. It reminds me of simpler times.”

Miss Lee blushed, misinterpreting his words as an invitation for further conversation. “You know,” she began, her voice dropping to a more personal tone, “it’s nice to see a man who appreciates the little things in life. It’s…refreshing.”

Jimin shifted uncomfortably, the familiar knot of anxiety tightening in his stomach. He had seen this look before, had heard these words countless times. They always started with compliments, with gentle admiration, but it never ended there. He could almost predict what would come next—the casual suggestion of getting coffee together, the subtle hints at wanting to spend more time alone with him.

But Jimin wasn’t interested. Not anymore.

“Miss Lee,” he interrupted before she could continue, his tone firm but not unkind, “I appreciate your kindness, but I’m not looking for anything more than friendship right now.”

The disappointment was immediate, though Miss Lee tried to hide it behind a strained smile. “I understand,” she replied, taking a step back. “But if you ever change your mind…”

Jimin nodded, offering another polite smile before turning his attention back to the playground. He could feel the weight of the teachers’ gazes still on him, the curiosity quickly replaced by a mix of pity and confusion as Miss Lee walked back to her group, murmuring something under her breath.

He knew what they were thinking, what they were probably saying about him—how could someone like him, who seemed to have it all, be so closed off? They didn’t know about the walls he had built around himself, about the disappointments and betrayals that had hardened his heart. They didn’t know that the very idea of letting someone in again terrified him.