...and Redemptions

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"Will you ever leave me, Oppa?"

"Never, Eun-Jung. Now, come on. Time to go to school."

"Oppa, you're lying. One day when you become famous, you'll leave me all alone with Eomma."

"Ya, don't talk about Eomma like that!"

"But it's true!" She pouts on the bed.

"Ms. Eun-Jung, we will be late for the bus! Come on!"

She smiles her little cute smile, dimples on both cheeks. "Carry me on your back, Oppa!"

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Jimin squints, trying to separate the trees from the ground. He's in the center of a giant pit formed by the bomb.

How is he still alive?

He looks down at his leg.

Oh, crap.

His right leg is a mess of scars and cuts. The arc of pain was formed by some kind of knife, and he is literally in a pool of his own blood.

Where is his knife?

Jimin sits up, looking around. No knife. No gun, either.

Wait.

A brief moment of panic fluttered in his chest as he feels his jacket pockets, then dies down when he feels it.

The bracelet.

He takes it out, and immediately the pain sets back in.

He shoves it back in his pocket.

Jimin slowly gets up. His leg is on fire, but he can stand properly. His bone isn't damaged. His group probably isn't better off, though.

His group.

They had run straight into the bomb, unless they had heard Jimin.

He mentally curses himself. He should have run when he could have. Then this wouldn't have happened. They would have probably still been alive.

Jimin sees a flash of silver and looks down. It's a pistol, one of the Green's. He's disgusted to hold one of theirs, but a gun is a gun. But it isn't loaded.

"F*ck," he says out loud.

"Who's there?"

Jimin starts at the sound. He raises his gun, but remembers that it isn't loaded.

"Drop the gun."

It's from behind him. Jimin starts to speak. "It isn't loa–"

"I said drop the gun!"

Jimin drops the gun.

"Turn around."

Jimin slowly does a 180, then gasps when he sees who it is.

The boy doesn't know. He lowers his rifle, then raises it back up. "How are you still alive?"

"I fell from a tree. I don't know how I'm alive. How are you still–" Wait. The boy didn't have that rifle before. "Where did you get that?"

"I found it." Then shock races through his face, and he lowers the rifle again. "Wait a minute. You're the one–"

"From your tent. And that's my gun."

"But–but how? And you were gone..." Jimin sees the confusion in his eyes as he looks down. "That person holding me, he collapsed. There was a bang." He looks back up again. "That was you?"

"That was me."

"Then they all followed you..." he gulped. "You saved my life twice, then." He turns the rifle around and hands it to Jimin, butt side facing out. Jimin steps forward and takes it. He swings the rifle onto his shoulder. "Does that mean I get to stay alive?"

The boy smiles, and Jimin just realizes how cute he really is. "Yes, it does."

Jimin desperately wanted to know his name, but names didn't really matter...right?

"What's your name?"

Jimin grins. "That's exactly what I was about to ask you. My name is Jimin."

"My name's Jungkook."

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