BCF: Wish Upon A Star (Namjin)

Look Who's Awake: 유나

WHEN TINY YOONA opened her eyes, the first thing that came into sight was her father hovering over her crib with a warm smile that welcomed her bright morning. He scooped her up in his arms and laid her over his shoulder. She closed her eyes again, the awoken morning haven't had its effect on her yet, and her father stepped into the kitchen.

"Namjoon," he mused, "look who's awake."

Yoona reopened her eyes as she felt herself being raised and put on another shoulder.

"Hello, Yoona," said Namjoon.

She recognized who these people were, not by their names, nor even sight, but by scent. Namjoon had a distant, less familiar scent from her biological father (whom she could smell and recognize from a mile away), so she hung onto the familiarity of his deep, soft voice that greeted her every morning.

Father, as usual, began to make her formula for the morning as Namjoon carried her to their bedroom.

He rested her on the bed and unbuttoned her pajamas. Then he carefully unattached the dirty diaper and lifted Yoona's legs before sliding in a new one under her bum. He held her legs over her head as he cleaned her up. Yoona, only being two months old, hadn't grown accustomed to using her body quite yet so she could only perform minimal movement as Namjoon patched her diaper up and changed her into a onesie.

He did all this quietly, which was very much like him. If Father, or her aunt, or uncle, or anybody else had done this task, they would have talked to her in high pitched voices, poke her softly and smile, or play with her tiny feet. Namjoon, however, was not anybody else. The most he ever did was smile at her. He'd kiss her only when she'd injure herself. However, he'd never complain about the smell of her poop like Father would. Namjoon would sometimes massage her back and her feet if she started crying which, for some odd reason, calmed her down. He handled her gently, showing so much care, and yet hardly spoke a word to her.

One night, as Yoona rested in her crib, she could hear the couple's quarrel about his behavior towards her outside of her bedroom door.

Father had asked, "Why are you so distant towards her? You never even talk to her."

Namjoon's voice was strained, as if he was becoming less aware of his rising frustration. "I'm sorry if I'm not up to your standards of father material, but this is just the way I am."

"Oh come on! You know that's not what I mean but it's healthy to talk to her for the benefit of her development, Namjoon."

"I'm fully aware of the cognitive development, Jin, which, by the way, is mainly sparked by teaching her names of things and categorizing, both of which you do not do. In fact you are using a rather controversial method called baby talk which does nothing for her at all."

"You're such a smart ass! I wonder what side of the family you got that from: your dead father, or your neglectful mother!"

There was silence after that. The voices became quiet as they drifted off into the other room. Perhaps she heard something along the lines of "I'm sorry, Namjoon" before she heard a door shut.

But today was a good morning. Well, at least until it wasn't.

Namjoon picked her up again and carried her to the living room, where he sat down and cradled her. Her father came in with a bottle and handed it to Namjoon, which he accepted. He placed the nipple in between her lips and watched her suck out her daily nutrients. But the ringing of a phone tore his gaze from her.

Father looked at the caller ID and sighed.

"Don't tell me," Namjoon said.

Father just gave him a twisted look before answering it. "Yeah?" He listened to the voice on the phone. "I don't care what you want. This is your daughter. How could you want nothing to do with her?!" He marched off into his room and closed the door, proceeding to yell at who was on the line.

Namjoon gave Yoona a pitiful look. "When the flame flickers," he told her, "let the shadows waver, but do not waver with them."