Incapable

One Week Left

"Can you believe we're getting married in almost a month?"

"I know oh my god life flew by so fast. I don't know if I'm ready for the Matching Ceremony or not! Ugh, I still need to pick out my wedding dress!"

"You'll look amazing in any dress you wear.  We are so lucky we didn't end up looking like Yang Y/N. Can you imagine trying to find a decent dress with that body?? It'd be miraculous if she can find one. She'd probably have better luck in the men's section with her figure, or lack thereof. I feel terrible for whoever has to marry her."

"Shhhhh, shit! She's right there. Run."

Scarring words and haunting giggles that sound all too familiar fill your ears and take over your mind, your brain consuming and absorbing them until it becomes your identity. You continue to walk through the campus of your university, thick textbooks in hand and your worn out backpack slung over your already aching shoulder. You stare straight ahead, masking your pain behind the wide rimmed glasses that you literally could not live without.

It's one week till the Matching Ceremony, and you could not be dreading anything more. The smell of the doctor's office is still fresh in you memory, and you look down at the paper your doctor had given you. Stereotypically, black ink chicken scratch fills the blank page, so you don't even bother to attempt to read what she had written.

It wouldn't make a difference anyway. You'll be paired up with your spouse in seven days anyway, whether you like it or not.

What's an immune system, mama?

It's what protects your body, sweetie. And when you get matched with your future husband, you'll create a stronger baby. Just like your father and I did with you.

The soothing words from your mother thirteen years ago fill your mind, the still fresh memory warming your heart and pulling at the ends of your lips.

Your moment of happiness is destroyed when you're practically shoved by a fellow classmate passing by.

"Watch where you're going, smartass." The voice that makes your blood boil like no other sounds in your ears, and you stop walking. You pick up your books that inevitably fell out of your arms and onto the concrete as you watch your worst enemy join his six friends up ahead.

Min Yoongi.

Could have at least said excuse me, asshole. You drill holes into the back of the slim figured brunet. Maybe ten years ago you'd have the courage to speak up, but a lot happens in 3650 days.

"Y/N! Are you alright?" You turn your head at the sound of one of your (only) friends. "Hana said she saw you picking your books up off the ground just now." The long-haired, ethereal fairy gives you a concerned look as she and Hana catch up to you.

"Yeah, I'm fine, Hyoyeon. It was just Yoongi being a jackass again. Nothing new." You push up your glasses and brush your hair behind your ear. "Where were you two, anyway?"

A moment of hesitance passes as the three of you begin walking to your dorm. Hyoyeon speaks up quickly, you presume to cover up the awkward silence that had just passed. "O-oh. We were uh, that is..." she trails off, and you turn your head to see her eyes focused on the ground.

They couldn't have made it anymore obvious. A laugh escapes you, and you playfully nudge your now flustered friend. "Don't feel bad about going wedding dress shopping without me. You two actually care about this whole ceremony, unlike me. You guys have been talking about this ever since we were sent to university."

You hear soft breaths of relief escape your two best friends.

"Hhhhhugh guys I'm so nervous! What if I get paired up with someone I don't like?! What if I end up with one of the creepy dudes from our year? I don't want to have a kid with that!" Hana exclaims, hiding her face in her hands due to the stress and anxiety that had suddenly come over her.

"Hana, you'll be fine. If anything, I'm the one who'll be paired up with one of those creepy guys. My luck has been bad ever since we turned eleven." You muster a laugh, despite the cold hard truth piercing through your core like a spear. "But who knows. Our immune systems have no correlation with our personalities and physical features. They just pair us up with opposing immune systems and tell us to go have sex before we're 25."

"Y/N's right, Hana. To be completely honest, all the guys in our year have a decent face, so I'd much rather make babies with one of them than be thrown in prison or whatever they do to the people who don't cooperate." Hyoyeon looks up from the ground, now having confidence in what she has to say. "Plus, it's not the end of the world if you're really not compatible with your partner. We were told that if it really doesn't work out, we can speak to the officials about it. So don't stress out about it."

The three of you reach your dorm, and you flop onto your bland, white bed, groaning as Hana's anxiety begins to take over your body and mind.

"You okay, Y/N?" You hear your two friends check up on you simultaneously. You turn over and look into their mocha and hazel eyes.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I hope this week never ends."

[A/N]

did she really come back with another fanfic instead of continuing her other two? heck yeah (btw im so sorry this chapter is so bad i literally had no idea how to make this intro sound interesting without giving everything away askdflsf;k im sorry,,,,)

in all seriousness though i'm so sorry (to no one because no one reads these LOL) i haven't been continuing Flower Boy or Silence, i promise I'll get to those soon; I just had a really good idea and i spent probably a whole week planning it out so hopefully this one will be the best out of the three askfksl

~bangtanstaan