Second Chance

For as long as Yoongi could remember, the house beside his family's had remained vacant.

He never really understood why either. It looked like a decent house, similar to his own if it weren't for the bright red door and the overhanging balcony above it. He could remember his parents discussing it over dinner a few times, his older brother joining in like he could understand what they were talking about.

He was only two years older than Yoongi, what did an eight-year-old know about the housing market anyway?

Until one day, it wasn't vacant anymore.

Yoongi had just gotten off the bus, his mother waiting for him at the bus stop when he noticed the large, white moving van in front of the house. Pulling on his mother's arm, he dragged her down the street, running up to the van.

"Mommy! Look, there's a van!" he yelled as his mother laughed. She ran her hands through his hair when they came to a stop in front of the gate.

"So there is," she said. "Do you know what that means, Yoongi?"

Yoongi looked up at her, the excitement in his demeanour obvious.

"It means that house won't be lonely anymore, right?"

His mother smiled, nodding. "That's right." Pausing, she averted her eyes to something past Yoongi's shoulder. She bowed, holding Yoongi's hand as he turned to see what had gotten her attention.

A small woman with long, black hair stood on the other side of the fence, a frilly white dress draping from her shoulders. As pretty as the woman was, it wasn't her who had caught Yoongi's attention.

Cradled in her arms was a young boy, with silky, black hair and honey coloured skin. Yoongi couldn't really see his face because the kid was hiding it in the woman's neck.

"Good afternoon," his mother said, snapping his attention to her, "I'm Min Eunha and this is my youngest son, Yoongi."

Yoongi bowed politely to the woman just like his mother taught him. The woman smiled at him as she rocked the boy in her arms.

"Good afternoon, I'm Park Mina and this is my son, Jimin." Turning her attention to the boy, she gently stroked him on the back. "Jimin-ah, say hello to our new neighbours."

The boy lifted his head then, his big brown eyes flitting from Yoongi to his mother, then back to Yoongi.

And Yoongi was captivated.

The boy, Jimin, had round, chubby cheeks which were reddening from all the attention he was receiving. His pink lips pouted cutely, and his brown eyes were so expressive, Yoongi could see the curiosity in them when they looked at him.

"H-hello," he said, his cheeks pinking up even more when he stuttered. "I'm Jimin. I'm four."