BCF: Wish Upon A Star (Namjin)

He Probably Enjoyed It: 남준

"I DECIDED TO let her rot," Jin announced.

Namjoon stopped slurping his noodles and looked up at him. "Yvette? So. . . You're going to press charges?"

He nodded.

Namjoon watched Jin his eyes remain fixated on the plate, as if his food was whispering to him. "What made you change your mind."

Jin sighed, taking his time forming his gorilla leaf wrap. "Even if I were to drop all charges against her, the city would press charges. She'd still get prison time. Besides"—he looked up at Namjoon and smiled—"Yoona doesn't need a mom who abandons her. She just needs parents who will always love her unconditionally."

Namjoon relaxed, not realizing how much it stressed him out that Jin was willing to let her get minimal to no time.

Jin turned back to his wrap, rearranging his assembled food before finally wrapping it up. "I guess I was just afraid. Our relationship was unstable at the time and she was the only other one obligated to raise Yoona other than me. It's messed up but I felt like if she stayed out of there I wouldn't be in this alone."

"Hyung. . ." Namjoon's heart fell heavy with guilt.

Jin had taken the wrap into his mouth and waved him off nonchalantly as he chewed. With his mouth still full, he covered it and said, "It's okay. I think differently now." He swallowed and smiled once more. "Hyung is much more confident now."

Namjoon leaned back in his seat. "There's something different about you."

Jin blinked. "Really?"

"You're stronger," Namjoon said.

"What doesn't kill you makes you wiser," he said.

Namjoon folded his arms. "You mean stronger."

"No I meant what I said. Strength is a measure of how much you can endure. Wisdom teaches you how to make use of that renewed strength. Therefore I guess I'm stronger because I've learned how to turn my experience into wisdom."

"That's my boy." Namjoon smiled. A cry sounded from the other room. Namjoon beat him to it. "I got her."

Jin relaxed back in his seat and chuckled. "Have at it, Dad."

Namjoon paused briefly at that, although Jin didn't notice. He thought, Am I really a dad?

He entered and walked over to her crib before peering over at her little body, watching her face scrunch up as she cried, her messy dark chocolate colored curls sticking to the moisture of her tears. She hadn't noticed him until he wiggled his pointer finger inside of her tiny palm. Instinctively she wrapped her fingers around it and only then did she look up. Upon meeting his eyes she ceased her weeping and replaced her twisted restlessness into a toothless smile. The corner of his lips began to lift before he was realizing how infectious her smile was.

"Are you satisfied with your nap?" he asked, awaiting her response. Her only reply was a few babbles. "Good. I'm glad."

He noticed some rashes on her thighs as he lifted her. He walked back to Jin and notified him. He walked over and held her meaty leg and took a closer look.

"I don't think I've seen this before. I'll call the doctor tomorrow."

Namjoon nodded before putting her in her high chair.

It was the first time Namjoon and Jin were visiting Yvette in prison. When Namjoon heard her sentence of three years and six months on probation, he instantly felt sick to his stomach. Why, he thought, after all she's done, did she get the minimal sentence?

Approaching Yvette, he wanted to smash her face into the table. Then he felt Jin lace his fingers with his and relaxed.

He remembered asking him, "How do you feel about Yvette's sentence?"

Jin sighed as he continued to make Yoona's formula. "I'm not a woman. So I should accept the fact that she got any sentence at all."

Those words haven't stopped repeating themselves in Namjoon's head.

He remembered saying, "Hyung, we don't know for sure if that was the case." But he even as he said it he didn't believe it himself.

Jin stopped and looked at him with anger flaring in his eyes, though Namjoon knew it wasn't towards him. "Isn't it, though? You know I went down a rabbit hole a few weeks after the incident, searching for reliable sources of female violence against males in Korea. You want to know what I found? Nothing. I found nothing. The closest I got was male sexual assault against males in the military. The support group I went to—I was the only one out of twelve male victims to report my assault. When a man rapes a woman, she's a victim. When a woman rapes—no—when she forces herself on a man because apparently there's a gray line when it comes to rape for us—he got laid and that's all that matters. He probably enjoyed it."

Namjoon knew he was referencing the hearing when at one point Yvette's lawyer suggested the idea that Jin had actually enjoyed it since she ended up pregnant.

"Hey. . . " He approached his elder and combed his hair back with his fingers.

Jin visibly relaxed and held his wrist before kissing his palm. "I'm sorry. I just—"

Namjoon cupped both cheeks and looked into his eyes. "Stop that. You have nothing to be sorry for." He then kissed him softly.

Namjoon shook his head, getting rid of the memory before sitting across from Yvette with Jin. She looked restless and antsy, eyes only briefly on them every few seconds before scanning the rest of the room.

Jin took a second to observe her, seeming to notice her anxiousness. Carefully, as if he was afraid she'd explode on the spot, he began, "I came to say goodbye, Yvette—"

"Yes, yes. It's for the best," she cut in, eyes searching for something Namjoon could not seem to figure out.

Jin opened his mouth and then paused before finally asking, "Are. . . You okay?"

"How's Yoona?" she asked, for a moment making eye contact with him.

They both stared at each other for no more than three seconds, but Namjoon could have sworn it was much longer. It was as if they were having a secret conversation with each other.

Finally, Jin said, "She's. . . Fine."

As if struck with an idea, her face lit up. "Oh, that's good. I'm glad." She rested her hand on top of Jin's. Immediately, he retreated his hand. She turned her hand upward so her palm was facing them. Namjoon noticed writing on it: Leave. Protect her.