Winter In My Heart (Jikook/Kookmin)

8

Twelve Years Later

“Don’t touch me!”

Jimin's voice rang out in the bustling food stall, sharp with fury as he shoved away a customer’s wandering hand. His heart pounded as he stood his ground, glaring at the old pervert who had the audacity to grab him again. The stall, which belonged to his mother, had become a place of torment for him.

“Don’t blame me, kid,” the old man sneered, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “You’ve got a nice ass.”

Disgust curled in Jimin’s stomach. Without thinking twice, he grabbed a cup of water and splashed it right into the man's leering face. He had endured this man’s revolting behavior for far too long, and this was the last straw.

The old man sputtered in anger, wiping his drenched face. “How dare you!” he bellowed, loud enough for everyone nearby to hear. “Park Somin! Get out here!”

Jimin's stomach tightened in dread. He knew exactly what was going to happen next. His mother, Park Somin, would side with the man—she always did. Within moments, she stormed out of the kitchen, her face twisted in irritation as she approached them.

“What now, Jimin?” she snapped, not even asking for an explanation before her hand flew out and slapped him across the arm. Jimin flinched but didn’t move away. He had grown used to the sting.

“Eomma, it wasn’t my fault! He grabbed my ass!” Jimin protested, his hands instinctively coming up to shield himself from more blows.

His mother’s eyes narrowed, and she placed her hands on her hips. “So what? It’s not a big deal!” she spat back.

Jimin’s mouth dropped open in disbelief. “Not a big deal? He’s a pervert! He’s always doing that!”

Somin rolled her eyes and pointed at the old man. “That pervert pays for our food! He gives us money to survive. If you want an easy life, let him do what he wants.”

Jimin's world shattered at her words. It wasn’t the first time she had dismissed his suffering, but this—this felt like betrayal on a deeper level. He stared at her, horror and disbelief swirling in his chest. Does she want to sell me?

The old man, encouraged by Somin’s indifference, took a step forward, his eyes dark with desire. “See? Even your mom agrees,” he leered, reaching for Jimin again.

“W-what are you doing?” Jimin stammered, his voice cracking as he backed away until his body hit the stall’s wall. The old man lunged forward, wrapping his greasy arms around him.

“Don’t be scared,” the man whispered, his breath hot and foul against Jimin’s neck. “I just want to—”

“Eomma! Help me!” Jimin screamed, his voice frantic, his body trembling in fear. But his mother only glanced back, scoffing before disappearing into the kitchen. She wasn’t going to save him.

Panic surged through Jimin’s veins as he struggled against the old man’s grip, his entire body writhing to break free. With one last burst of strength, he shoved the man as hard as he could, sending him stumbling to the ground. Without looking back, Jimin sprinted out of the stall, his heart pounding in his chest, fear propelling his legs faster than they had ever moved before.

He didn’t stop running until he reached Seulgi’s house—his best friend, the only person who understood him. Jimin knocked frantically on the door, tears threatening to spill from his eyes. Seulgi answered quickly, taking one look at Jimin’s pale face and shaking hands before sighing deeply.

“What happened this time?” Seulgi asked, his voice heavy with concern. He didn’t need an answer to know the source of Jimin’s distress. Whenever Jimin showed up like this, it was always because of his mother.

Jimin slumped into a chair, burying his face in his hands. “It’s that perverted old man again,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Again?” Seulgi asked, shaking his head in disbelief. “How many times does this have to happen?”

“I don’t know,” Jimin whispered, his voice breaking. “I hate him. I hate my mother. I hate my life, Seulgi.”

The weight of his words hung in the air, and Jimin could feel himself crumbling under the pressure of it all. Tears began to fall, and he quickly wiped them away, embarrassed. Only Seulgi knew the extent of his pain, the constant abuse he suffered at the hands of his mother, both physical and emotional. He had learned to expect no protection, no love, no kindness from her. But today felt like too much to bear.

Seulgi’s expression softened as he crouched down beside Jimin, resting a hand on his shoulder. “You can’t stay there anymore, Jimin,” he said firmly. “I’m not letting you go back. Come with me to the city. We’ll figure something out. You deserve so much better than this.”

Jimin stared at Seulgi, his heart pounding with fear and a flicker of hope. He had always dreamed of escaping the hell that was his life in the village, but the thought of actually leaving—of starting fresh—felt overwhelming.

But maybe Seulgi was right. Maybe this was his chance.

Slowly, Jimin nodded, his decision made. “Okay,” he whispered, his voice shaky but resolute. “Let’s go.”

For the first time in a long time, Jimin felt a small spark of hope ignite within him. This was his chance to leave behind the pain, the fear, and the wounds that had haunted him for so long. It was time to start over, to find a new path—one that led away from the darkness that had consumed him for years.

As Jimin stood up to follow Seulgi, he felt a weight lift from his chest. For the first time in his life, he was walking toward something better, something brighter. It was time to leave the past behind.