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40: I'm here

Taehyung could feel them—stares laced with sympathy, quiet condolences slipping through the cracks of conversation. Someone had left a neatly wrapped packet of snacks on his desk this morning. Another had scribbled “Stay strong” on a sticky note and pressed it into his palm. The teachers hadn’t called on him lately, their eyes holding that same look.

The you poor thing look.

It was exhausting.

Jungkook didn’t say anything about it. He just sat beside him, flipping through his textbook, not treating him like a fragile piece of glass. It was probably the only reason Taehyung hadn’t walked out of class yet.

“Hey.” One of their classmates, Minji, hesitated beside his desk. “Taehyung, I just wanted to say… I’m really sorry about your mom.”

Taehyung blinked at her. He hadn’t spoken to Minji more than three times in the past year. Why did she suddenly care?

“…Thanks,” he said flatly.

She nodded, awkwardly shifting her weight from foot to foot. “If you ever need anything, we’re all here for you.”

He almost laughed. Where was this ‘we’ when she was alive? When he showed up to school with bruises barely hidden under his sleeves? When people whispered about the fights in his house but looked away because it wasn’t their problem?

But Taehyung didn’t say any of that. He just forced a smile and nodded. “Yeah. Thanks.”

She finally walked away.

Jungkook glanced at him. “You okay?”

Taehyung leaned back in his chair, exhaling. “Why do people act like she was some great mother?”

Jungkook stayed quiet, waiting.

“She wasn’t. She never tucked me in at night, never held me when I cried. I don’t even remember the last time she smiled at me. She was just… someone who happened to give birth to me.” His fingers curled into fists. “So why does everyone expect me to be sad?”

Jungkook closed his book. “You don’t have to be sad.”

Taehyung looked at him.

“You don’t have to feel anything you don’t actually feel,” Jungkook said simply. “You don’t owe anyone grief.”

For the first time that day, something in Taehyung’s chest loosened. Just a little.

The rest of the school day passed in a blur.

“Kim Taehyung, can you come to my office for a moment?”

Taehyung barely looked up as his homeroom teacher called him over. He dragged himself to the teacher’s office, expecting yet another concerned speech about how he’s holding up.

Inside, his teacher was organizing a stack of papers while Jungkook stood nearby, setting down a pile of graded homework copies on her desk.

“You scored 75 this time,” she said, sliding his test paper toward him.

Taehyung frowned, staring at the paper. His grades had never been below 90. Even when he barely studied, even when he was exhausted, he and Jungkook had always secured the top two positions.

His teacher leaned forward, expression serious. “Taehyung, you and Jungkook have always been our top students. You placed fifth in this test.”

Fifth.

It wasn’t even a bad rank. But for him, for someone who had never been outside the top two, it was like being at the bottom of the class.

“You were the highest scorer just last month,” the teacher continued. “I know things have been difficult, but you can’t let this slip, Taehyung. You’ve always been one of the best students we have, and your entrance exams are coming up soon. You can’t let this become a pattern.”