What May Change [Min Yoongi FF]

Chapter 19

[A/N: Wow. Holy crapoli. The amount of reads and support on this story have been amazing! Thanks so much for continuing to follow it!]

It had been several days since the incident, and local media had quieted down about the investigation. All the boys were back in school, but Yoongi and I were still getting together every day after school to work on homework together, especially his English homework and our partner project of course.

"Where...is...the...closest...mall," He read aloud, attempting to grasp this week's dialogue. "What is 'closest'?" Yoongi questioned, perplexed. 

"That's the grammar point. In English we don't always say 'the most blank', we take the adjective- here 'close'- and conjugate it to mean 'the one that is the most close'." I explained. 

"But isn't it 'closed'? The mall is not opened?" Yoongi continued, visibly confused. 

"I understand why you think that, it's a confusing English thing. 'Close' as in something that is near and 'close' or 'closed', meaning the opposite of open sound and are spelled the same, but mean two different things. You have to use context and just remember both words. He's not asking if it's closed, so he probably means nearby, because why would someone look for a closed mall?" I translated.

"For something illegal," Yoongi retorted.

"That is true. But I do not believe the textbook writers had future shoplifting students in mind for this chapter." 

He smirked at me once again. He leaned toward me couch-

then jumped roughly fifteen feet away as my mother burst cheerfully into the living room. 

"You guys want any snacks? You're studying awfully hard. I don't want you guys to get too stressed out by the system here. It should be illegal, the way they treat you kids." She complained. I groaned. 

"We're fine mom, we'll be poor students like you want quit when we get bored, I promise," I jeered. She put her hands on her hips then came over to ruffle my hair aggressively. 

"So Yoongi," she began, "What do your parents think about you dating this weird foreigner? They must proud you took the initiative to get yourself a free English tutor," She joked, painfully jovial. Yoongi tensed. 

"Mom!" I whisper-screamed. She looked at me confusedly. She was always terrible at reading facial cues. 

"Oh um...I don't have parents." Yoongi mustered, after a gulp and a long pause. He put on a fake small smile, but I could tell he was in pain. His hands were in fists on his lap, clenched with knuckles white to hide the shaking. I took his hand and squeezed. 

"Oh, oh my lord, I'm sorry honey, I didn't mean to bring that up...are you...living with a foster family then?" She asked nervously. 

"Friends." He replied shortly. 

"Oh well, that's probably much better." She babbled. There was a long stretch of silence. 

"Well, we've studied quite a bit today and I'm getting tired of all this productivity. How about we go out shopping like we planned, Yoongi?" I suggested. 

"Great idea!" My mother chimed in. "You kids have fun!" 

As usual, no 'be safe!' or 'be home before dark!'. At mom's, I could get away with anything. She saw it all as 'part of the learning process'. Good ole free-range parenting. She was lucky I was a cautious kid and not nearly as rebellious as I could be, or she'd see me in a lot more trouble. 

Says the girl whose boyfriend is a sketchy boxer in the Korean mafia committing assaults for the mob lord he owes his life to and throwing underage drinking parties. 

Cough. 

Yoongi stretched and yawned on the bench beside me as we waited for the bus. He looked adorable when he was sleepy, and he often was, being the night owl he is. 

I tugged the beanie on his head back into place and smiled broadly at him, unable to contain the sunshine in my soul from beaming out like an immense dork. What a stud I'd bagged. A really, really sad abandoned stud who punched people for a living and resided in an abandoned building and would be lucky to graduate a year late if he could pull it together this semester. But just look at that squishy smile-

He returned with a big gummy grin and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear, pecking me on the cheek. 

"I wonder how I got such a sweet girlfriend." He mused. "Oh, it looks like the bus is pulling up," He noted, quickly slipping his hand into mine and leading me gingerly toward to vehicle. I followed greedily, not wanting to let go. 

It wasn't long before window shopping in Myeongdong got old. There were thousands of cool things we wanted but had no money to afford, so we wandered out its bustling streets and stopped in a small, out of the way cafe instead. A coffee was within each of our budgets at least.

"So how's Namjoon's leg doing?" I started, taking a sip of my steaming hot mug and having to set it right back down again. That shit needed to cool. 

Seeing my burnt tongue dilemma, Yoongi chuckled quietly. 

"Be careful," He said confidently slurping his own. "Namjoon's been doing well. We've been keeping it wrapped and the last couple days its been hurting him a lot less. Seems like its healing and isn't a break, so he'll be okay." I sighed. 

"That's a relief but..." I frowned. "How can he just go back to living with his dad so soon? That's horrific. Isn't it dangerous?" I asked quietly, not wanting the conversation to be overheard. Yoongi nodded gruffly. 

"He's over it by now. Namjoon doesn't really have a choice. He needs to be on good terms with his dad. He was just trying to teach Joon a lesson." He replied coolly. 

"A lesson?!" I exploded. "He went at his son with a bat for disobeying him and nearly broke his bones!" I exclaimed, livid at Yoongi's appeared dismissal of the action.

"I didn't say it was right," He snapped back, then took a moment to recenter himself. "Some of us know what it's liked to trapped by parents. Sometimes your home is life or death. I'm just trying to show you how they think. None of us are happy about it, no one likes to see their friends get hurt. But at a certain point everyone in that house became desensitized to a certain level of violence. If you don't learn to cope or to some extent accept it, you can't survive in that environment. I hope you never experience enough to get used to these things Whimsy," He murmured earnestly. 

"I hope one day we can undo that from you," I replied sincerely. 

Not long after, Yoongi and I left the cafe and wandered in search of a bus stop or subway station. We had just spotted one and were passing an alleyway when I heard Yoongi's breath catch tightly in his throat and stopped dead in my tracks, only to be yanked off the path into the side street. 

Yoongi looked frantic, his hands were shaking again. 

"Yoongi, what's going on?" I asked, searching his face for clues. 

Looking away toward the street we'd been on, he choked on the words.

"I saw them...my parents."