Chapter Text
With the shrill of a bell, the once empty halls of Kyungnam High filled with students. Happy chatter floated through the air, and each student wore a grin. The reason they were so happy, of course, was because it was finally winter break. Several students rushed out the doors as quickly as they could. All that mattered was leaving the school and not returning until January.
Outside, the world was covered in white. The sun burned hot in the sky, reflecting brightly off of the pale snow on the ground. The occasional pair of students passed by, walking home and trading jokes in the cold winter air. It seemed that the good mood that covered Kyungnam wouldn’t fade anytime soon. Now that school was finally out, everyone really seemed to be in the Christmas spirit. Some particularly anxious teachers tried to rush students out of the school; the sooner the school emptied, the sooner the teachers could go home. But regardless of their attempts, there were many who still stood at their lockers talking.
Min Jaehyung was one of these students. He was more than happy to be done with school, but he couldn’t dash just yet. His oh-so-popular girlfriend, Ahn Jiwoo, was still trying to get everything packed up. She had chocolate milk from the cafeteria in one hand, her partially zipped bag in the other. Jaehyung had already offered to help her out, but she refused. So he stood awkwardly, patiently waiting for her to be done.
“Alright, ready to go,” Jiwoo announced, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “So, since it’s Friday, we should hang tonight. I know I certainly don't have anything else going on.”
“Yeah, definitely. That’s a great idea,” Jaehyung agreed, maybe a tad too enthusiastically. He had been waiting for the perfect moment to finally have sex with Jiwoo. Maybe tonight would be the night.
“Fantastic. We’ll watch movies at my place, alright?”
Jaehyung already liked where this could go. “I’ll be there.”
“Great. I can text you the info la-”
And suddenly, Jiwoo’s sentence was cut off. Jaehyung flew forward, knocked off-balance by some asshole who had run into him. He collided with his girlfriend, and her chocolate milk spilled all over the front of her uniform. He felt guilty for ruining her uniform, but he was more angry than anything. How dare this person not only embarrass him in front of his girl but push so rudely past him? Did the guy seriously not know who Jaehyung was?
“Hey, asshole!” he shouted. Though he had only been talking to one person in particular, nearly the entire hallway stopped to stare.
The guy who had run into him only continued to walk, not paying any attention to Jaehyung. The jacket of his uniform was tied around his waist, and he wasn’t wearing a white shirt underneath like he was supposed to - instead, he wore a Metallica t-shirt. Seriously, who did this guy think he was?
“I’m talking to you, Metallica shirt!” Jaehyung knew he should’ve just dropped it, but now he had the attention of his peers. He couldn’t just back down, lest he ruin his reputation as a strong man. Jiwoo might leave him if he couldn’t take this guy for her.
The guy finally turned around, a nasty glare on his face. “Dude, fuck off. I’ve got a pack of cigarettes waiting, and I’d really rather be smoking than talking to you.
A rage Jaehyung hadn’t known he possessed filled his body. He was humiliated and incredibly angry. So, he resorted to the only thing he could think to do. Leveling his fists, he said, “If it’s a fight you’re looking for, then bring it. Unless, of course, you realize that you’re far too weak?” A cocky smirk found its way to his face.
The guy’s glare worsened. Clearly, the insult had affected him. Jaehyung expected some sort of snappy comeback and then for the guy to walk off. Instead, he was met with a fist to his face. The bones in his nose crunched, and blood spurted everywhere.
“Weak my ass,” the guy retorted, rolling his eyes and leaving behind the astonished onlookers, a very bloody Jaehyung, and a panicked Jiwoo.
“I could’ve taken him, babe,” Jaehyung tried to assure Jiwoo once the guy had left. The humiliation of being beat with one hit in front of so many people seared hot into his mind. “He just took me by surprise, is all.”
Jiwoo gave him a skeptical look. “There’s no way you could’ve taken him.”
“Hey! I-”
“Jaehyung, you have no idea who that is, do you?”
“Why the hell would I?”
The girl sighed exasperatedly. “That’s Jeon Jungkook. You know, the Knockout King. The guy who’s been street fighting since the third grade. The guy who could’ve done a lot worse to you if he wanted. That was either the bravest or stupidest thing you’ve ever done.”
Jaehyung beamed with pride, broken nose temporarily forgotten. “Well, what can I say? I’m always brave when it comes to protecting my girl.”
Jiwoo shook her head. “Again, Jaehyung, he could’ve done a lot worse to you. You’re lucky he only did that. Facing him like that was more stupid than brave. Now, we’re going to get you to the doctor, okay? Forget the movie night. Your health is far more important.”
Jaehyung couldn’t stop the bitterness. He had been humiliated, had his nose broken, and now he couldn’t even hang with Jiwoo. As he and Jiwoo made their way out of the school, he seethed to himself. He didn’t care if Jungkook was the quote-unquote Knockout King. He didn’t care how long Jungkook had been fighting. He had made a complete fool out of Jaehyung, and now Jaehyung wanted revenge. He made a decision that day. He was going to return to boxing and work harder than he ever had before. If he wanted to beat Jungkook, then he would have to train hard.
---
Jungkook’s drive home was very calming. With the windows cracked, a cold breeze rushed through the car, sending his hair flying in every direction. Min Jaehyung’s blood had dried on his knuckles; he’d have to wash that off once he got home. His ride would take quite a while, considering how far away he lived. It was a small wonder that he was even in the school district. However, he didn’t really mind the drive. It allowed him some time to himself, time to just focus on the road and the music blaring from his truck.
Today was different, however. First, the blood on his hand was really starting to gross him out. He could fight for himself, but in all honesty, he preferred not to deal with blood. Second, he had been dying for a bit of relief ever since the start of finals week. Now that finals were over, Jungkook could relax. He was looking forward to getting home and calming down from all the stress that had been building up. He didn’t want to worry about his test scores or that asshole Min Jaehyung. He just needed to forget for a while. Those were problems he could take on later.
By the time he made it home, his hair was wild and his nose and cheeks had turned pink from the cold. His grandma was always lecturing him about that, but Jungkook never really listened. He liked the cold. It made him feel more alert, which he certainly needed after the all-nighters he had been pulling lately. He put out the cigarette he was smoking while he drove, then tossed it out the window. He was relieved to pull into the driveway and rush into the small, heated house.
Although Jungkook had only been living with his grandmother for two years, he had been very close to her for most of his life. With his father out of the picture and his birth mother addicted to drugs, he spent more time with his grandmother than anyone else. When he was in third grade, his mother started running out of money to pay for her drugs, so she threw Jungkook into street fights. She’d get paid every time he won. He never really understood it; all he knew was that he would probably die if he didn’t fight back. The other betters thought he was an animal, a complete monster in the ring. In reality, he was simply a scared child who would come crying to his grandma after every fight.
It took years for his grandmother to finally gather enough evidence that Jungkook was being abused. But finally, he was taken away from his mother and placed in the care of his grandmother. At that point, he was fifteen. He had become so accustomed to fighting for his life that he hardly knew how to adjust now. He was no longer completely neglected and used for money; he was actually loved all of the time instead of just when he won. He was plagued by nightmares of his past often and would avoid sleeping just so that he wouldn’t dream. His situation was getting desperate. Nothing he tried to do to help him cope would work for him. He eventually reached out online, trying to find something to relieve him of everything. And that’s when he first learned about little space.
At first, he thought it was weird. How would acting like a child help him anyway? He didn’t know how to feel about people acting like they were toddlers again. He might’ve even been a little disgusted in the beginning, but he was desperate for some sort of solution, so he looked up more about little space. The more he dug for information, the more he learned about himself. He did have his own headspace after all, and it was a pretty little one. He began to slip more often, and he secretly bought himself things like sippy cups, pacifiers, stuffed animals, onesies, and even diapers (at first he refused to use them, but now they were a necessity if he slipped). Jungkook tended to keep quiet about himself at school, and his fellow classmates considered him to be mysterious. But out of all of the secrets he held, this one was his best-kept secret. Nobody knew, and nobody could know. Who knew what might happen to him then?
Grandma wasn’t home, and she had left a note saying that she was working late. She wouldn’t be back until at least midnight. Jungkook felt a little bad for her, but he also was excited. He had his own little routine every time Grandma worked late, and he had been needing this for a long time now.
Jungkook tossed his backpack and shoes against the wall. He turned toward the long hallway to his room, a mischievous smile playing at his lips. He ran along the hardwood floors, then used his socks to slide all the way to his door. A sense of childlike glee filled him as he came to a stop in front of his door, and he giggled happily. He had so much time to be little, and it was amazing. Flinging open his door, he hurried over to his closet, which was an absolute wreck. There had been many times that Grandma tried to convince him to clean up, and even times where she had offered to do so herself. She eventually gave up when she realized that she’d never be able to get a teenage boy to remain tidy. It was a good thing that she had decided not to clean up because that was the hiding spot for all of Jungkook’s little things.
He grabbed a diaper, a green pacifier, and his favorite pajamas: a black t-shirt and shorts with light green around the cuffs and little UFOs and astronauts printed across the black. He also made sure to get some different socks, black ones with stars instead of the worn gray ones currently on his feet. Then he was off to the bathroom to get changed.
He already felt smaller as soon as he was dressed, but he couldn’t allow himself to fully slip just yet. Since Grandma wouldn’t be home until late, he needed to make a meal that would be good for him in little space. Heating up chicken nuggets would have to do. And maybe some mac and cheese for good measure. When his meal was done, he set it in the microwave and set the timer. When it was time to eat, he could just press the start button and take the food out when it had warmed up. Then he ran back to his room, grabbed his dino stuffie, and went out to the living room. Once he had settled under a soft blanket and had his cartoon turned on, he allowed himself to slip.
The relief was immediate. His entire body relaxed, and a fuzzy haze blocked out all the confusing Big Jungkook thoughts. He didn’t need to worry about that anymore. His biggest concern was whether or not the paladins of Voltron would be able to save the day. He had been so immersed in the show, subconsciously sucking his pacifier and stroking his dino, that he didn’t really notice the truck at first.
Through the open blinds that Jungkook had forgotten to shut, he could see a large truck pulling up in the driveway across the street. He couldn’t exactly read the letters on the side of the truck, but he was very interested in the truck itself. Nobody ever really came out here, let alone in giant trucks with funny letters on the side. A small black car followed closely behind. It parked itself in the driveway beside the truck. The residence they were at had never really housed any people. Jungkook had always wished for a kid his age to live over there so that he could play with someone instead of fighting them. As he got older, he gave up on that ever happening. Now, it seemed that someone was moving in.
A man got out first, dressed in all black. Big Jungkook would’ve liked his color choices, but Little Jungkook felt like the man could be doing more. His hair was graying rapidly, and a pair of wire glasses sat on his nose. His wife’s hair was even shorter and even grayer than his. She seemed almost like she was from a black and white movie, with her gray hair, pale skin, and black dress. Jungkook was beginning to wonder if these people had come from a funeral. Then a kid opened the car door. He looked like he was only a middle schooler, and he was really emo. He had the fringe, the eyeliner, the MCR t-shirt, the ripped skinny jeans, the converse, everything. His earbuds were in, likely blasting I’m Not Okay (I Promise). He looked dead inside, surveying everything with a blank gaze. And then, from within that car of darkness came a sudden burst of color.
The last boy to exit the car seemed a lot closer to Jungkook’s age. He wore a black and white striped long sleeve with light blue shorts. His sneakers lit up when he walked, and his white socks reached his knees. His fingernails were painted so brightly that Jungkook could make out the color from all the way across the street: purple. But the most striking thing about this boy was his fluffy pink hair. Jungkook was intrigued by this, and so he stared on curiously, sucking on his pacifier in thought.
The boy looked up then, eyes locking with Jungkook’s. Jungkook froze, even the constant bobbing of his pacifier stopping. And then he hid under his blanket, face burning brightly. When he risked a peek, the boy was still looking through the window. His eyes locked with Jungkook’s again, and he gave a bright smile and a tiny wave. Jungkook gave a tiny wave back, just so that he didn’t seem rude, and then buried himself in his covers again. As soon as the family went inside, he shut the blinds (with many struggles).
Jungkook waddled back to the couch, then sat down next to Chan the dinosaur. “Channie,” he started, voice high-pitched and speech muffled from the pacifier. “Kookie likes that boy. He seem really nice. But what if he don' like Kookie?” Jungkook huffed. “Big Kookie gon’ be mad, but don' wanna be big now. Wanna be friends with Pinkie!”
Chan didn’t respond, of course, only looked on with his sewn smile.
“Maybe Kookie can make a friend. Just maybe. Also, he got pretty shoes.” Jungkook wanted to say more, but then he realized that Lance McClain was in trouble, so he quickly glued his eyes back to the television and hoped that the paladins could save him.