Chapter 9: Yoongi's Past.

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"That's where you're wrong." I muttered under my breath. Taehyung's eyes darted forward to look at me.

"What do you mean?" He inquires.

"You said I wouldn't understand unless I had a little sister of my own." He still stares at me with confusion.

"I had a little sister, V. She'd probably be about your age now. About 21." I sigh. He's not going to understand unless I tell him about my past. The past I tried to keep concealed for so long. The past I tried to run and hide from.

"Sit down kid, it's story time."


-Flashback-


I was born into a mutant family. My mom was a mutant. My dad found her on the streets, being beaten up by a group of guys that discriminated against mutants. He saved her from them, and even though her face was bruised after being beaten to a pulp, my dad still saw beauty in her. And even in her abilities. He took her in and she fell in love with his kindness. They were lovestruck for each other.

Time passed and they married and had me. We didn't have a lot of money, so my dad was out working two jobs just to able to pay rent and put food on the table. My mom had to stay at home with me because mutants were refused jobs. 

2 years go by and things were starting to look up. My dad had been offered a job that payed well by a friend of his and we were given a nice house. My mom and dad thought that it'd be good for me to have a sibling, seeing as I didn't get on with the other kids in school, because I was different. So then, 9 months later my mom pushes out my little sister Min Kiya. 

I was 3 when my powers started to show and Kiya was only a newborn. The smoke alarm would sound every so often because I managed to set the couch on fire just by sitting on it. I couldn't touch anything without the object bursting into flames. I was even kept away from Kiya because my father thought I would harm her. My mom then made me gloves to wear. They were fire resistant so it meant I could still hold things without them melting or exploding into flames. With my new given gloves, it was the first time I got to hold my baby sister. And that moment I will cherish forever.

The mutant genes must've skipped my little sister, because when she was around the age I got my powers, nothing was showing. She was normal. The one thing I could never be. 

Years go by and things begin to go downhill again. The job my dad had been sustaining for years went bankrupt, so they couldn't pay their employees anymore and my dad was let go. This was very hard on him, because that meant that we would lose our house.

I went through the years of middle school and then ended up in high school. High school was a complete shit show. I was bullied nearly every day of the week. The only time I got a break was when the bullies didn't turn up to school. I was shoved into lockers because the guys said I "looked at him wrong", I was dunked into toilets because they said they were trying to "put out my flame", and any other little things just to torment me. 

Mom said to ignore them and I tried to for so long, but keeping that anger in only led me to develop depression, social anxiety and anger issues. But above it all, I still kept my head up. For my parents and Kiya.

It was around when Kiya got into school was when things got really bad. We were living in a two bedroom apartment on the outskirts of Seoul, because that's where my dad's new job was. It didn't pay very well, but my mom always taught me to be optimistic, so at least we had a roof over our heads. But then, on top of all the stuff that was happening at school, my dad was starting to change. Some nights he would come home with the stench of stale alcohol on his breath, and some nights he wouldn't come home at all. 

Kiya was then being picked on at school too because she had a mutant brother. She was only 12. I tried to teach her to stand up for herself, but that would've been hypocritical of me because I don't stand up for myself either. I have my reasons though. If I were to try and stand up for myself, I'd probably end up scorching someone's eyelashes off in the process. But I was the blame for her mistreatment in school. If I was normal no one would be feeling so unhappy.

But then, one night changed everything. I was walking home from my part-time job. I used to work inside this small studio where underground rappers would come to record their demos. I was so intruiged by this and that's when I took up an interest in rapping. I didn't like asking my mom for money that we didn't have. So with the small change that she could spare me for bus fare, I'd use that money to save up for equipment I needed to record my own songs. I walked to school, skipped lunch, and walked home.

I walked closer to my home, humming a song I was listening to one of the rappers play in the studio when I heard screams and a girl crying. I knew that cry from anywhere. It was Kiya.

I sprinted up the stairs of the complex and kicked the door in, to find my father choking my mom against the wall and Kiya hiding in the corner, a prominant hand print on her cheek. My mother refused to use her powers against humans, so she wouldn't allow herself to use them on my now abusive father. The room stunk of sweat and alcohol. My stomached heaved at the stench. Chairs were toppled over and photo frames fell down from the walls. 

I ran over to Kiya to see if she was okay. She clutched her cheek that was now beginning to swell and sobbed even harder. 

"Yoongi- stop him!" She cried. My heart broke. 

My burning gaze turned to my father's. He released his grip on my mother's throat and she collapsed to the ground. Kiya rushed over to her. My father pushed me against the wall and punched me.

"Why is my child such a freak! No wonder you get beat up in school! You have powers to protect yourself but you never fucking use it. You're a disgrace. A coward. You're a sorry excuse of a son." He yelled in my face. I've taught myself to ignore the smart remarks from the kids at school, but never did I think I'd hear such words from my father. He punched me some more, but my anger distracted me from the pain. What hurt me the most was having to sit and watch my mother and sister cry helplessly. My father's words chimed in my ears.

"You have powers to protect yourself but you never fucking use them."

He left beating me to return to hurting my mother. 

"Look at your son! Can't even stand up to his old man! You raised a coward. A wimp. I blame you for his upbringing." And he slapped her again, Kiya cowering back into the corner where I found her. 

My father can say whatever he wants to me, and hurt me however he likes. But no one fucking touches my mother. What happened to the man she put her trust in and fell in love for? 

Another slap echoed throughout the room and I lost it. I removed the gloves my mother made for me all those years ago, when everything was fine. But now, my father must pay.

Orange flames folded themselves around my hands. I darted over to my father and grabbed him by his collar and reefed him off my mom. Red glowed around my iris. I was seeing nothing but the color red. Anger clouded my vision as I lunged for my father again. The flames consumed me and I felt nothing but pure bliss. It burned, but I didn't mind because I liked the way it hurted. The way it made me feel such power. 

I bet my father's body until he laid limp. I watched the life drain from his eyes as I held his throat like he held my mother's. 

I was so caught up in my emotions and my outburst I didn't notice that everything around me was burning too. I stumbled back, away from my father's body and looked around the room for my mother and sister. They laid huddled together, in the corner as flames surrounded them. I couldn't save them. They were already gone. And it was my fault. 

 That was my first outburst and my last.

A/N : Christ, Yoongi had it rough. But hopefully Taehyung will understand now. Just to clarify; Sure, Yoongi used to work for the gangs with Namjoon and the others and had to use his powers for them, but he never really experienced another outburst as severe as his very first one. So that's why it was his first and his last.

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