Six of a Kind

사십육: Mother

Can you believe it? We don't have a jacuzzi??

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Taehyung glanced around the small flat's living room, a small look of disgust on his face. He hated Mr. Ming. He hated that stupid woman who had disregarded everything he said and had made up his mind for him. He hated his mother.

As far as Taehyung was concerned, he didn't have a mother. He just had his dad. Namjoon. He knew his brothers felt the same way, even Jimin, who whined uneasily when she handled him. She didn't have the same gentle touch as Namjoon, nor did she talk to him in a way he could understand. Anything that upset Jimin, upset Taehyung too.

It had been 3 months of sitting in small square 'playrooms', a term Taehyung used loosely since these rooms had very little to play with. He knew they were actually 'talking' rooms, set up to look like they would be fun for kids. Nothing got past Taehyung easily. Having to talk to lots of young men and women with 'Social Services' on their lanyards about his feelings, and what he thought of 'mummy'. Lots of talk with this woman they were calling 'mummy'. Taehyung even refused to refer to her by her actual name.

At first, she had tried to play with him. However, she seemed to have misinterpreted his age, and shoving smelly and tattered stuffed bears in his face and baby talking him was a laughable attempt. Maybe that would work with Jimin, and Jungkook would probably like them, too, if he wasn't being watched by strangers. She tried to age up the games, but Jungkook wouldn't budge, Taehyung just stared at her endlessly, Jimin misunderstood the games, Hoseok looked wary and flinched if she moved too fast, Yoongi cried, and Seokjin struggled to understand her accent through his cochlear implants.

In the end, she just ended up talking to Taehyung. He gave monosyllabic responses at first, then changed to rude responses. He could see the effect this all was having on Namjoon, and that fed his hatred.

He was even more annoyed that they seemed to have lost. Taehyung was a smart kid, but he didn't understand every and all rules and laws of the world. He didn't quite grasp what children's rights were, and how those rights didn't actually involve his decisions, but his parents' and lawyers of the state. He hadn't got what he wanted, which was to have nothing with Jisu, and now, here he was, in a flat that didn't get enough sunlight with a woman he actively disliked.

He peered at the oak wood coffee table. If Jimin had a seizure, he could fall and hit his head off of it. They didn't have one at home for that exact reason, just the small stand that used to have Jisu's picture on, which Namjoon had taped a cut up pool noodle to as soon as Jimin started walking better. Even Hoseok had that risk, though he was seizure free with his medicine. There wasn't enough sofa space for them all. The carpet was hard and rough, which would upset Jungkook.

The kitchen was even smaller, and there was no special strappy chair for Jimin. He struggled to sit on normal chairs due to his cerebral palsy making him wobbly. Taehyung doubted there was any adapted cutlery for him, either. The fridge had a rattly hum, which Taehyung guessed Jungkook would cope with for less than 5 minutes. He wasn't too sure if Seokjin would be able to hear it, but if he could, it would mess up how well he could hear conversations.

Back in the living room, Jimin wobbled on his feet, clinging to his walking frame for support. He'd only had it 2 weeks, but it greatly supported his walking, and helped him move independently, though he still needed support with most other things. Yoongi also had hold of the frame, peering around at the beige walls in concern, a knot of worry between his eyebrows. This whole ordeal had made Yoongi even more anxious than ever, even beating Hoseok's nervousness.

"I don't like it," he mumbled to Taehyung as he emerged back from the kitchen. "I want to go home."

"It's just one night ..." Hoseok responded, though he looked even less sure than Yoongi. "I miss dad."