[BTS Oneshots] The mafia's beloved sister.

Jimin's adventure

It was a bright Saturday morning when Jimin found himself alone in the mansion with a very mischievous, very energetic five-year-old Yn. The other members were all abroad for meetings, and as the 5th eldest, Jimin had been appointed the noble task of babysitting.

At first, Jimin had been confident. After all, he loved Yn more than anything in the world. But now, standing in the living room with a stack of children’s books in one hand and a half-empty cup of coffee in the other, he realized just how unprepared he was for this.

"Jimin oppa!" Yn called from across the room, her voice high-pitched and full of excitement. She was sitting on the couch with a box of crayons, happily drawing on the cushions. "Look! I made a rainbow!"

Jimin squinted at the couch. The rainbow was a little... abstract. Crayon marks covered the entire surface of the cushions, and it looked less like a rainbow and more like a crime scene.

"Yn, what did I tell you about drawing on furniture?" Jimin said with a sigh, trying to keep his voice calm.

Yn grinned mischievously, not at all fazed. "But Jinnie oppa, I didn’t draw on the floor! Just on the couch! It’s a very beautiful rainbow, see?" She pointed at the chaotic scribbles with pride.

Jimin pinched the bridge of his nose. "Okay, okay... Let's get those crayons away from the couch, alright? Let’s go color in your book like a good girl."

"Nooo!" Yn shook her head, dramatically flopping back onto the cushions. "I want to paint! Not color! I’m an artist, Jinnie oppa! Real artists paint!" She raised one crayon to the air as if it were a paintbrush. "I am Picasso!"

Jimin chuckled despite himself. "Alright, Picasso, let’s go get you some paint." Maybe it would be safer...?

Jimin was finally starting to understand why people say that babysitting a 5-year-old is harder than any full-time job. After hours of running around with Yn, cleaning up after her endless activities, and trying to get her to sit down and eat something, Jimin felt like he was on the verge of collapse.

But no. He had office work to do, paperwork piling up on his desk, important emails to send, and reports to finish. And yet here he was—staring at the mess in front of him, his to-do list looking more like a mountain than a list.

Yn had decided it was a "painting day," which meant the entire living room was covered in crayon drawings. The walls, the floor, even the furniture—nothing was left untouched. And despite the chaos, Jimin couldn’t get mad. She was just too cute as she pranced around the room, showing off her "art" to the maids, who were, like him, trying to manage their own exhaustion.

The maids, poor souls, had been running back and forth all day. One had been sent to clean up after Yn’s latest art project, while another was trying to make sure the house didn’t fall into complete disarray. But no matter how hard they tried, it felt like they were all just trying to put out fires—except, instead of fires, it was flour, crayons, and spilled juice.

Jimin watched as one of the maids, her hair frazzled and her apron covered in flour, bent down to wipe up yet another spill. Her tired eyes met his, and he couldn’t help but let out a long, defeated sigh. "You okay?" he asked, though he knew the answer.

She nodded, barely able to hide her exhaustion. "Just... just trying to keep up, Master. It's... it’s hard when she’s so full of energy." She gave him a sympathetic smile, and Jimin could only nod in agreement. His own shoulders were sore from picking Yn up and chasing after her all day.

He glanced over at Yn, who was now trying to get the maids to play dress-up with her. She had pulled out a box of costumes—somehow finding the most elaborate ones in the house—and was insisting that everyone wear a princess dress, including Jimin.

"Jinnie oppa! You have to be the prince!" Yn commanded, tugging on Jimin’s sleeve. "And you, maid lady, be my fairy godmother!"

The maid looked at Jimin, helpless, her eyes pleading for him to step in. Jimin sighed, feeling the weight of the day’s chaos pressing down on him. "You heard the boss, I guess," he muttered, standing up and reluctantly reaching for the princess costume.

Just as he was about to put it on, he heard the sound of his phone buzzing in his pocket. Oh, thank goodness. His work. Finally.

He quickly pulled out his phone, hoping it was something urgent that would allow him to escape this madness for just a moment. But when he checked the screen, it was just a message from his secretary: "Boss, you still have pending reports to submit by the end of the day.”

Jimin stared at the message, groaning inwardly. It was already late, and he hadn’t even begun. He glanced at the clock. 8:00 PM. He still hadn’t finished anything from his to-do list, and now he was stuck playing pretend with his five-year-old sister and exhausted maids.

With a heavy heart, Jimin resigned himself to his fate. He pulled the princess dress over his head, glaring at the maid who was trying not to laugh. "Fine. Prince Jimin it is," he said, half-heartedly tying a sash around his waist.

Yn squealed with joy, clapping her hands. "Yay! We’re all in the royal family now!"

Jimin glanced at the maids, who, for the most part, had already given up on trying to restore order. They were now sitting on the floor, exhausted and giggling under their breath at the ridiculousness of it all. One of the maids was even attempting to wear a tiara, though she kept squinting at it as if wondering how she’d ended up in this scenario.

Meanwhile, Yn, who was apparently the queen of this whole charade, insisted that everyone take part in her royal "banquet." She ordered the maids to serve imaginary food, much to their amusement (and exhaustion). Jimin tried to keep up with her, playing along while internally dying from all the work piling up in his head.

"Jinnie oppa," Yn suddenly said, looking very serious as she pulled Jimin down to her level. "You have to promise me something."

"What is it, bun?" Jimin asked, trying not to sound too exasperated.

"You have to promise you’ll never work again. We can just play all day. I’ll be your queen, and you’ll be my prince," she said, her eyes wide with excitement.

Jimin’s heart melted a little at how sweet she looked, and for a brief moment, he almost considered it. "But... I have to work, bun. We have to pay for the castle, remember?"

Yn furrowed her brow in confusion. "What castle? This house is already huge!"

Jimin laughed despite himself. "You're right, but there are other things we need money for... like... snacks, and toys, and..."

"Snacks?!" Yn’s eyes lit up. "Okay, we’ll work on snacks! But only after the royal banquet."

As the night wore on, Jimin finally gave up on trying to get any work done. He had to admit, playing princess was probably more fun than filling out reports. The maids had already given up, too, and were now fully invested in the "royal family" drama, laughing and sharing jokes while cleaning up the last of the mess.

By the time they were all done, it was well past midnight, and Jimin was exhausted—physically, mentally, and emotionally. He had somehow survived the day, but his office work? Still unfinished.

"Okay, bun," Jimin said, yawning as he tucked Yn into bed. "You’ve worn me out. No more princess games for tonight."

Yn grinned up at him, hugging her stuffed bunny. "I’m going to dream about our castle. Good night, Jinnie oppa."

Jimin kissed her forehead gently. "Good night, bun. Sweet dreams."

And as he left her room, exhausted and covered in crayon marks, he thought to himself, Tomorrow, I’m locking myself in the office until all this work is done. But, of course, he knew that when tomorrow came, there would be another adventure with his mischievous little sister.

The house was still a mess. The maids were all just as tired as he was. And his reports? They would just have to wait.

For now, Jimin collapsed into his own bed, closing his eyes and letting himself drift off to sleep. The chaos could wait. Tomorrow was another day.

But, deep down, he knew he'd do it all again for her. Even if it meant sacrificing his office work... and his sanity.