Winter In My Heart (Jikook/Kookmin)

61

Today felt unbearably heavy for Jimin. His chest ached, but not from his illness—his brother, Jungkook, had been avoiding him all day without any explanation.

"Hyung, take my picture, please?" Jimin asked again, his voice softer this time.

It was the tenth time Jimin had asked, yet Jungkook refused to respond. He acted as if he hadn't heard, his gaze distant, lost in thought.

"Hyung, why are you avoiding me?" Jimin's voice cracked slightly, the pout on his lips deepening as he sulked at the cold shoulder.

"You don’t love me anymore," he whispered, a phrase that used to melt Jungkook’s resolve immediately. But today, it didn’t work. Jungkook simply lifted his coffee cup and walked into the kitchen, not a word spoken, not a glance exchanged.

Jimin’s heart sank as he watched his brother leave the room. He couldn’t understand what he had done wrong.

After Jungkook left for work, Jimin busied himself around the house, trying to distract himself from the emptiness. He cleaned, washed the laundry, and did the dishes—everything was spotless.

"I want to make Jajangmyeon," he decided aloud, hoping the familiar task of cooking would bring some comfort.

As he prepared the ingredients, a sudden sharp pain interrupted his rhythm. "Ouch…" Jimin winced, staring at his finger as a thin line of blood appeared. Rushing to the sink, he rinsed it under cold water, the sting making him grimace. He grabbed the first aid kit and clumsily wrapped a bandage around the cut.

Just as he finished, the doorbell rang. Wiping his hands, Jimin hurried to open the door.

"Mingyu hyung!" Jimin’s face lit up at the sight of Mingyu, but the smile faltered as he noticed Jungkook trailing behind, looking distant and cold.

"Kookie hyung, you're back already?" Jimin asked cautiously.

"Hmm…" was all Jungkook offered in reply as he brushed past Jimin without so much as a glance, his shoulder bumping into Jimin’s as he walked inside. Jimin stumbled slightly, hurt filling his eyes as he glanced at Mingyu for reassurance.

"Are you alright?" Mingyu asked, his voice full of concern.

"Yeah, I’m fine, hyung. Come on, I made Jajangmyeon!" Jimin forced a smile, leading Mingyu into the kitchen.

Jimin dished up the food with a hopeful grin. "Here you go, hyung. I’m sure this is the best Jajangmyeon you’ll ever eat!"

Mingyu raised an eyebrow, eyeing the dish skeptically. "Judging by the look of it… I’m not so sure."

"Hyung!" Jimin playfully scolded, crossing his arms, though he couldn’t hide the smile creeping onto his face. Mingyu chuckled, amused by Jimin’s reaction. He knew how much Jimin enjoyed cooking, despite the hardships he'd faced in recent times.

Their lighthearted moment was interrupted by Jungkook’s return to the kitchen. The air thickened with tension as he opened the fridge, pulling out leftovers and shoving them into the microwave.

"Hyung, I made Jajangmyeon. Do you want some?" Jimin offered timidly.

"No," Jungkook muttered coldly.

Jimin’s face fell, his shoulders slumping. He stared down at his lap, fighting the lump rising in his throat. His brother was shutting him out, and he didn’t know why.

Mingyu noticed the bandage on Jimin’s hand. "What happened to your finger?"

Jimin quickly hid his hands behind his back, but the question had already drawn Jungkook’s attention. Though he tried to remain aloof, Jungkook’s eyes briefly flickered with concern before his mask slipped back on.

"Something’s going on between you two," Mingyu stated, folding his arms as he looked between the brothers. "What happened, Jimin?"

Jimin’s lips quivered as he looked at Mingyu, trying to hold back the tears threatening to spill. "Hyung won’t take my picture… Hyung’s ignoring me… Hyung doesn’t love me anymore…"

"You know I love you, Jimin. Don’t ever doubt that." Jungkook’s voice was steady, but the weight behind his words hit Jimin like a wave.

It wasn’t a shout or an angry outburst, but it hurt all the same. Jimin’s lip trembled as he slid off his chair, giving Mingyu a weak smile before retreating to his room, his chest heavy with unspoken sorrow.

Mingyu turned toward Jungkook, his expression serious. "Now, tell me what's going on. You know he’s crying right now."

Jungkook sighed, running a hand through his hair. "He… he spat blood, Mingyu."

"What?" Mingyu's face paled.

"He hid it from me," Jungkook continued, his voice strained. "I found the blanket he used to wipe it under his bed. He didn’t want me to know."

"Jungkook…"

"I’ve told him over and over—he needs to tell me everything. I can’t help him if he hides things. But he still does it…"

"He’s trying not to worry you," Mingyu reasoned softly.

Jungkook clenched his jaw, his voice cracking. "I know. But how can he ask me to take a picture when he looks so pale? He looks… he looks like he’s d-dead."

"Jungkook…" Mingyu stepped forward, placing a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder. "He’s scared. Of course he’s hiding it from you. Can you imagine how terrified he must be, spitting blood like that? And look at how you're reacting right now—avoiding him, shutting him out. He probably thought this would happen."

Jungkook’s hands trembled as he wiped at his eyes. "I just… I hate seeing him like this, Mingyu. It hurts too much."

"I know," Mingyu said gently. "But he’s the one going through it. He’s the one feeling the pain, the side effects of the treatment. You can see it, Jungkook—his hair’s thinning, his skin’s pale, he’s lost so much weight. He’s scared out of his mind. And he needs you now more than ever."

Jungkook nodded, his voice barely above a whisper. "I just don’t know how to help him."

"You help him by being there. By showing him that you love him, even when it’s hard."

Jungkook swallowed hard, realizing the truth in Mingyu’s words. He had been so focused on his own pain that he’d forgotten what Jimin must be feeling.

He needed to be there for his little brother—his Mochi—no matter how scared he was.