Six of a Kind

일

Hoseok squatted on the ground, and pointed to a small frog. "What dat?"

"A frog, Hoseokie."

Hoseok pointed towards a bird. "What dat?"

"A pigeon, Hoseokie."

Namjoon walked idly down the footpath of the local park, pushing along a double buggy. The sextuplets turned three years old last week, and 4 of them had caught up to where they should be. Seokjin, Yoongi, Hoseok, and Taehyung ran around in front of the pram, exploring the world around them. Taehyung limped badly, as one leg was getting increasingly longer than the other.

It was late October, and the trees had shed most of their leaves, and those still hanging from the branches were a deep red, or a brownish yellow. The quads loved to run through them, kicking the fallen leaves with their colourful welly boots, splashing mud up their waterproof trousers.

Jungkook and Jimin hadn't caught up. Well, Jungkook sort of had caught up, then suddenly regressed. He could walk easily, but he refused to, and would scream if Namjoon tried to force him. He would work himself up into such a rage he would make himself sick. He was happy in his pram. He hadn't spoken a word, though this coos and shouts seemed calculated, like he had control of his voice, and just didn't want to use it.

Jimin, on the other hand, just didn't catch up. His knees would fold underneath him if Namjoon tried to get him to stand, and his speech was just the same as a baby. He could crawl, but he didn't do it for long. He had no other choice but to be in a pram.

Namjoon knew he should take both of them to a doctor, and get some answers and advice, but he didn't want to. He wanted Jungkook to be confident on his own, and he knew Jimin was going to be slow due to how small he was at birth. He didn't need a doctor to tell him that.

He was, however, getting increasingly worried about Jimin's odd behaviour. As he had gotten older, and his body started to grow, his odd, rigid state grew with him. He could hold up his head just fine, but then his whole body would relax suddenly, and he would droop against Namjoon until he regained use. Sometimes he would go completely stiff, and other times, he went blank, and would stare off into the distance.

Namjoon worried about what would happen when he did learn to walk. If Jimin was going limp when he was sitting, then what would happen when he was standing? What would happen if he fell and hit his head? Jimin had already been left in tears from bumping his head on the floor a couple of times now.

On top of that, his breathing had stayed wheezy, and he coughed a lot, especially during the night. His cognitive abilities were low, and he only played with his baby toys. He couldn't count on his fingers, or move blocks into the right order. Namjoon didn't want labels on his son. He just wanted him to be happy.

Hoseok pointed to a twig, peering at it curiously. "What dat?"

"A twig, Hoseokie."

Namjoon was heartily bored of this. The four that could talk asked him at least 100 times each per day what something was, along with "Why?" every time Namjoon spoke. He had given up trying to fix their pronunciation, since it was getting him nowhere.

Hoseok pointed to a used condom. "What dat?"

"Okay, home time!" Namjoon called, and started to push the buggy faster. Hoseok kept pointing, so Namjoon quickly grabbed his hand, and pulled him along, forcing him away from the condom. "Dirty, Hoseok. Don't touch it."

"Okay, daddy."

They walked their way through the rest of the park, and all the way back to their little house on a terraced street. There wasn't enough space at all for six kids, but Namjoon didn't have enough money to move house. He could only just make ends meet as it was, and had a little left over to treat the kids with.