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Jeon Miyeon, age six, the firstborn daughter of Jeon Jungkook and Park Jimin, was an exceptionally good pup. The stereotypical first pup that made you want another.
She made grandmothers weep with joy and teachers write effusive comments on report cards. She said please and thank you without being reminded, with a sweet toothy smile lighting up her face. She shared her toys. She helped her little sister put on shoes and only lost patience when Soyeon tried to put them on the wrong feet on purpose, which happened, statistically, every other morning.
She had her appa’s smile and her daddy’s eyes and such exquisite manners that made adults, when they first met her, say something like she’s a cute, old soul before immediately losing a game of Memory to her.
Jeon Soyeon, age three, her little sister, was a different matter. The stereotypical second pup that made you wonder if she and her sister are actually related.
Soyeon was currently in the living room wearing a dinosaur onesie and a princess backpack filled with plastic weaponry, attempting to scale the bookshelf, her new quest of the week. She had already eaten two crayons that week — eaten, not chewed, not tasted, eaten, Jungkook had found the wax evidence — and had recently learned the word ‘actually’ which she deployed constantly and incorrectly. She smelled like sunshine and chaos and the vaguely waxy aftermath of her own terrible decisions.
Jungkook and Jimin loved them both with the entirety of their being and wouldn’t change a single thing about them.
This is important context for everything that follows.
Jungkook and Miyeon picking up Soyeon’s routine happened every Tuesday and Thursday at four-thirty, and no skips were permitted by the six-year-old pup without a considerate warning and the promise of ice-cream.
The routine was not arbitrary. The timing had been negotiated, over the course of the first month of Soyeon’s starting kindergarten, with the quiet but relentless determination that characterized everything Jeon Miyeon did. She was aware, following several times of Jimin picking her up from school and then driving to pick-up Jungkook, that Daddy’s office was twelve minutes from Soyeon’s kindergarten by the route that passed the good bakery, and that if he left at four he could collect her from school first, take her to the bakery for a treat and they would arrive at the playgroup at four-thirty-two, which was close enough to four-thirty for the teachers not to give Soyeon extra crackers.
“You have a very precise child,” Jungkook’s colleague had once said to him, when Miyeon had corrected his departure time by three minutes.
Jungkook had looked at his daughter. “She’s Jimin’s,” he’d said with a shrug, as if that explained everything, and it did.
The pickup had become, quietly and without any formal declaration, their time. Daddy and Miyeon. Twelve minutes in the car with the radio low, the bakery bag in her lap, Miyeon telling her beta dad about the interesting parts of her day and being delighted by the curious sounds and follow-up questions her daddy didn’t fail to make every single time. She cherished that part of their week with a vengeance that could rarely be seen in such a calm pup.
Then there was Soyeon barrelling out of the kindergarten doors like a small, joyful explosion, and the drive home with both of them, Soyeon describing everything that had happened to her in no particular order and Miyeon occasionally correcting her mispronounciations like a good big sister teaching things to her younger sister with pride.
Jungkook loved it unreasonably. He had told Jimin this, once, trying to articulate it: “It’s just — it’s ours. It’s a thing we do. I hope it won’t ever stop.”
Jimin had kissed him with soft eyes. “I know, it’s very special” he’d said, in the voice that meant I see you loving them and it makes me want to cry a little.
So when Huan Hyuna, a bit of a mouthful to pronounce for Miyeon but she managed, appeared in March, their well-established routine went into chaos.
And Jeon Miyeon, as much as she was the little, cute, well-spoken princess of the Jeon household, wasn’t a very tolerant child.
Miyeon clocked it in in the first few minutes.
She always noticed things first. It was an innate quality she’d been born with, that particular alertness that had earned her many stars at school and many grievances in her short six year life.
The woman was at the gates when they arrived. She was pretty, in the way adults were pretty when they tried: she had a nice coat, good hair, a nice, ready-on smile. She had a little girl with her, three-ish, round-cheeked and shy, who was presumably the niece or daughter of the woman who was now turning that ready smile on Daddy.
“Oh! You must be Soyeon’s father.” She’d read the family name from somewhere, probably the sign-in sheet. “I’m Huan Hyuna, Sooyeon’s mum. Huan Sooyeon, the other one, which is honestly so funny—”
Daddy laughed. He laughed easily, it was one of the things Miyeon liked the most about him. Appa said he looked like a bunny when he laughed and Miyeon agreed. She had drawn her daddy with bunny ears more than once.
“Yes, I’m Jeon Jungkook,” he said, with a polite bow, which meant nothing to Miyeon, but the woman’s eyes did a quick, complete survey of him that meant quite a lot. In that moment, Miyeon smelled something… strange. It was an overly sweet smell, the way overripe banana’s smell when left out for too many days. It wasn’t bad per se, just a bit much. Normally, the kindergarten yard smelled of the happiness of parents and their pups reuniting, which was very different.
Miyeon stood silently beside her daddy. Her hold on his hand tightened and she stared at the scene with furrowed brows.
“I’ve just moved to the area,” the woman was saying. “I’m still figuring everything out. I might need some help.”
“Oh, there’s a neighborhood groupchat that’s very helpful. You can ask the link to teacher Choi.”
Miyeon nodded. She didn’t exactly know what a groupchat was, but she liked her daddy’s response.
Huan Hyuna’s smile faltered for a moment, then picked back up. “Sure, I’ll ask her. Is this your usual pickup time? We might be seeing a lot of each other.”
“Yeah, Tuesdays and Thursdays,” Daddy replied, pleasantly, helpfully, obliviously. “My mate does the other days.”
My mate should have been the end of it. Miyeon had observed, in her six years, that my mate was generally a sentence that closed doors, if the bite on the neck or the ring on the finger or appa’s scent literally coating daddy’s entire being even after a full day of work didn’t. This woman, however, heard it and recalibrated rather than retreated.
“How lovely,” she said warmly. “I’m on my own, so it’s just me and my schedule.” She said it lightly, but it sat in the air.
Soyeon chose that moment to erupt from the kindergarten doors.
“DADDY!!!! MIYEON-UNNIE!!!” She hit Daddy’s legs at full speed and then attempted to climb him like he was a beloved tree. Or the living room bookshelf. The woman giggled. Miyeon picked up Soyeon’s dropped shoe, which had somehow come off between the doors and the gate, and kept it in her hand for later.
With the other, she pulled at her daddy’s coat. “Daddy, we need to go. Remember, appa said we have to go to the supermarket.” And if she said appa with poignant gravity, no one but her and Huan Hyuna need to know.
Jungkook, who had now successfully gathered Soyeon on his left arm, nodded. “Thank you, baby, I would be lost without you.”
Miyeon flashed a big, toothy smile, showing off her missing lower incisor. The tooth fairy had rewarded her with 100 wons, but she wasn’t sold on the existence of said tooth fairy. Santa was more credible.
“Well, bye Huan-ssi,” he smiled politely.
“Please, call me Hyuna.”
Jungkook made a gesture with his head that was neither a confirmation nor a denial, took Miyeon’s hand back in his and brought his daughters to the car.
On the drive to the supermarket, Soyeon was describing in great detail that Jiyoung had also eaten a crayon and was reprimanded by the teacher and crayons are bad for the tummy, like appa said! Miyeon looked out the window.
“You’re quiet, Mimi, everything okay?” Daddy asked, glancing at her in the rearview.
She nodded. “I’m thinking,”
“About what?”
She considered telling him. She looked at his profile — the easy way he held the wheel, the small smile still on his face from Soyeon’s crayon story, the gold of his ring catching the March afternoon light.
She decided against it. Daddy, she had observed, was very kind and very trusting and not always the fastest at seeing things that weren’t directly in front of him.
She would handle this herself.
“I have grammar homework.”
The second Thursday, Huan Hyuna was there again, waiting for them at the gates. Miyeon was in the middle of telling her dad a story that they read in class that she enjoyed a lot. She would have liked to have the book at home, but she didn’t remember the title. She hoped that daddy would know.
Her narration was interrupted by Huan Hyuna approaching them with two cups in her hands. “Hello! I wasn’t sure how you take it,” she said, offering one to Daddy, “so I went with oat milk, it’s the safest—”
“Oh—” Daddy’s eyes widened in surprise, his half-smile a little awkward. “You didn’t have to—”
“It’s nothing! We’re going to keep running into each other, we might as well be friendly about it.”
She said friendly the way it meant something slightly different. Her scent was also doing the overly sweet thing again. Daddy wrinkled his nose, just a tiny bit, but Miyeon noticed it. He was also bothered. Good.
Daddy accepted the coffee because he was constitutionally incapable of being rude about it (even though he’d just had coffee at the bakery) and also because he was, Miyeon thought with an internal sigh, completely oblivious.
Miyeon, affronted that her story had been interrupted, left Daddy’s hand in discontent and watched Huan Hyuna’s daughter, who was very shy and kept looking at Miyeon from behind her mother’s leg.
Miyeon considered the child. She waved politely but didn’t do more. She didn’t mind other pups, she liked playing with them even if they were louder and dirtier than her friends. Now she wasn’t in the mood to play.
She turned to the kindergarten’s door and waited for her sister to run through them like the hurricane that she was.
She was so going to tell Appa about this.
After making sure that Daddy was taking a shower, she found Appa on the sofa with a book and a cup of tea. Miyeon climbed onto the seat next to him, folded her hands, and said solemnly: “Appa. There’s a problem.”
Jimin looked up. His brows furrowed, not in alarm, but with attention. The focused kind. “What’s wrong, my baby?” he said, closing the book. He moved closer to his daughter, releasing some of his comforting jasmine scent around them, creating a safe cocoon for his daughter to open up.
Miyeon told him everything.
She was thorough. She described the coat, the ready smile, her nose-wrinkling scent. The coffee. Everything she’d said to Daddy during those two encounters. She also mentioned that her name was hard to pronounce, it was a very important piece of information.
Jimin listened with his chin on his hand and his eyes very warm.
“And Daddy didn’t notice,” Miyeon pouted.
“Of course, he didn’t,” Jimin agreed.
“He just talked about the commute.”
“That does sound like him.”
Miyeon looked at her hands. “I don’t like it,” she whispered, which was as close as she was going to get to saying the larger thing. “It’s our time. Mine and Daddy’s. And Soyeon’s. And she’s-” She stopped.
Appa’s scent became a bit thicker, a warm blanket, like the one he wrapped Miyeon in when she had a nightmare. She had passed it onto Soyeon, she was a big girl. Appa hugged her tight and kissed her head. “I’m sorry, baby, it must be hard” he acknowledged. She nodded. “But you know that Daddy would never leave us, right? He’s just friendly.”
“I know,” she nodded. It was true. Daddy had many friends. And he also repeated many times how much he loved his family. They always came first. But. “But what if she does something bad? Daddy always says that he was enchanted when he saw you the first time. What if she makes a spell to take him away? Like in the Sleeping Beauty.”
Jimin smiled. “Are you saying that I’m a witch too?”
“No, Appa. You are a fairy. Fairies only make nice spells.”
“That’s a good point.”
She nodded, and rested her head on his shoulder. “Are you going to tell Daddy?”
There was a pause. Miyeon looked up. Jimin had a particular expression, soft, amused, thinking. She had seen it before. It meant he was calculating something. Halmeoni said that Miyeon had that same expression when she was pondering what game to play.
“Not yet,” he said. “I want to see something first.”
“What?”
He smiled, and his eyes closed in those familiar crescent moons that Miyeon had apparently inherited. That’s what the adults said all the time. “I’m curious to see how long it takes him to notice on his own.”
Miyeon considered this. It was, she recognized, mischievous. Appa sometimes really acted like the whimsy fairy of her fairytales.
“And in the meantime?” she asked, her eyes big and curious. Looking at Appa like he had all the answers in the world. Most of the time, he did.
Jimin tilted his head. “In the meantime,” he said, “what do you think should happen?”
Miyeon was quiet for a moment.
“I will protect Daddy from the bad spell.”
Jimin nodded slowly. He kissed her head again.
“That,” he said, “is a very good plan. Appa will help you.”
They talked for twenty minutes more. Soyeon came in halfway through demanding juice, was given juice, attempted to participate, was gently redirected, and left, having understood nothing.
From that day forward, Jimin was Miyeon’s accomplice. Her helper.
Miyeon was also happy that she’d learned a new word.
Huan Hyuna was smart. Miyeon had mapped her pattern within two visits: she arrived five minutes before pickup, positioned herself near the gate, and waited. She had started remembering details — how Daddy took his coffee, that Soyeon liked the duck pond, that Daddy worked in music production. She deployed these details warmly, personally, like small gifts.
Daddy received them with the cheerful friendliness of someone who did not know what they were.
Miyeon implemented Phase One.
It was simple. When Huan Hyuna approached, Miyeon inserted herself. Not rudely — she was never rude — but physically, solidly, between her daddy’s side and the direction the woman came from. She held his hand, or looped her arm through his, or simply stood close enough that there was no conversational space that didn’t have to route around a six-year-old.
She also talked.
After the reading story incident, there was no way that Miyeon would allow her recounting of the day being interrupted by someone other than her little sister.
She was, when she chose to be, an excellent talker. Focused, articulate, full of interesting information. She told Daddy about things she’d seen at school — a spider’s web, a book she’d liked, a complicated social event involving who had been allowed to use the good colored pencils. She asked him questions that required real answers. She made herself, quietly and systematically, impossible to talk over.
The woman would arrive, smile, try to enter the conversation, and find it pleasantly, impenetrably full of Miyeon.
Daddy, on his part, was always absolutely delighted to talk with his daughter and entertained her conversations every time without fail. He was oblivious, but he loved Miyeon and whatever her captivating mind came up with gained his utmost attention, the woman he met two weeks before inevitably pushed to the sidelines.
But, as Miyeon already said, Huan Hyuna was smart and she always found some way to insert herself in their conversations.
She reported this to Jimin one evening, on the couch again, tucked to his side in her pastel yellow pyjamas. “It’s working a little,” she said. “But she still comes over.”
“Persistence is key,” Jimin said sagely, his book once again forgotten on the coffee table, absorbed in his daughter’s drama.
“I need to do more,” Miyeon contemplated.
“You can try your second idea,” said Jimin.
She gave a small nod. “Daddy still hasn’t noticed?”
Jimin’s expression turned into something complicated and fond. “He told me last week he likes that you’ve been extra chatty at pickup. He’s planning a small bookstore trip on Sunday with the four of us.”
Miyeon gasped, delighted. She loved going to the bookstore. Her milky scent erupted and combined with Appa’s jasmine. A very sweet, very right combination.
“Daddy is very sweet.”
“He’s also very silly,” Miyeon added.
“Also that, yes.”
Phase Two began with the drawings.
This required delicacy. Too obvious and it was embarrassing; too subtle and it went unnoticed. Miyeon calibrated it carefully.
She was holding hands with Daddy on the way from the car to the gates. On her little shoulders, her backpack protected her new masterpiece, crafted during downtime at school.
This time, Daddy was talking about something funny that he saw on his phone, a story about cats, and it reminded Miyeon of uncle Yoongi’s cat, which was very cute and very black. She was about to ask when they could go see him, when Huan Hyuna approached them.
Miyeon’s smile grew on her face when she saw the woman’s smile fall at the sight of Jungkook clutching a to-go cup of coffee from their usual bakery. Following Appa’s suggestion, she might have taken a bit more than usual to pick her cookies, so Daddy didn’t manage to finish his coffee on time and had to bring it with them.
Appa was a genius.
Huan Hyuna wasn’t easily deterred and started a conversation right away. The cat video apparently forgotten. Miyeon allowed it to go on for approximately two minutes before she gasped and tugged Daddy’s hand.
“Daddy!” she exclaimed and Jungkook’s big eyes immediately fell on his daughter. “I forgot, I have something for you.” She shrugged her backpack off her shoulders, opened it and produced the drawing.
She offered it to Daddy, who had knelt next to her to see it better. Her eyes went up to Huan Hyuna and she gave her a big smile.
“You see,” she began pointing at the figures in the drawing, starting from the figure in the yellow cardigan. “This is Appa. He has a lot of trophies for dancing. He’s been on television. He’s very famous.” She pointed at the trophies she drew at his feet. The her finger moved to the broader figure with the microphone. “And this is Daddy. They’ve been together since Daddy was very young. They knew each other for a long time before they got married.” Then the two smaller figures. “And this is Soso and me, I’m Mimi. Daddy calls me Mimi and Soyeon is Soso.”
Other Sooyeon was looking at the drawing with the classic three-year-old interest.
The woman, standing above them, was still smiling, but her smile had turned smaller. Her scent was no longer overly sweet.
Jungkook kissed her head multiple times and thanked her for the beautiful drawing. I’m going to put it on my desk, it’s so pretty, Mimi. The prettiest drawing. She basked in his attention like a well-earned prize.
After the first success, Miyeon began leaving drawings in strategic places. One appeared, as if by accident, on the table where the parents waited, a drawing that recreated her parents’ wedding day, labeled in careful printing:
DADDY ❤️ APPA. FOREVER.
The R was backwards. The sentiment was not.
She reported to Jimin. Jimin asked to see the drawings. He looked at them for a long moment with bright eyes.
“Mimi,’” he cooed. “These are so beautiful. The heart is very big.”
“Daddy said that his heart became bigger when you got married,” Miyeon explained. “So it's very big.”
She earned many kisses on her cheeks and a hug. She rubbed her nose on Appa’s chest, taking in his scent.
“Did Daddy like it?” he asked.
“Yes, but he said to bring it home because he has no more space on his desk.”
Jimin giggled. “That’s true,” Jimin confirmed. “But he’s very happy.”
Miyeon felt her cheeks turn slightly redder. She was a sweet pup, but she wasn’t normally overly excited in her affections. That was more Soyeon’s thing.
“Good,” she said, briskly.
Phase Three was the most chaotic and unpredictable of the plan, in another word, it meant Soyeon.
Miyeon had not, initially, planned to involve her sister. Soyeon was three, she experimentally tasted everything she put her hands on and her brain-to-mouth filter was still under construction. Soyeon was a non-definable variable, so it was a risk to introduce her into the operation.
But Soyeon had surprised her unnie by noticing, in the blunt, unfiltered way she noticed things, that there was a new lady at pickup that stood next to their Daddy.
“She smell funny,” she told Miyeon one afternoon, as they were drinking banana milk and playing with their dolls sprawled between them. Miyeon’s were properly dressed and their hair was neat. Soyeon’s were… well, still intact, which was an accomplishment.
Miyeon had looked at her. “No, I don’t like it, too,” she agreed.
“Daddy mine,” Soyeon claimed. “Daddy is for Mimi, and Soso, and Appa.”
“Yes,” said Miyeon, trying to braid her dolls hair. It was not easy. “That’s what I’ve been saying. Will you help me protect Daddy?”
Soyeon nodded, and that was that.
What Soyeon lacked in subtlety she made up for in impact. The following Tuesday, when Huan Hyuna leaned close to Daddy to show him something on her phone, tilted it toward him, arm almost touching his, a move Miyeon had categorized as deliberately engineered and invasive, Soyeon looked up from the cracker she’d been eating, and wrinkled her nose.
“Daddy, come to me!” she screeched.
Everyone in the vicinity heard it.
Daddy stepped back, mostly from surprise. “What?”
“To me,” Soyeon repeated, with the calm authority of a small traffic warden. She pointed at the appropriate location, right next to her, with the hand that was clutching the cracker. “Here.”
The woman blinked. Several other parents nearby were very busy looking at other things.
Daddy, bless him, said “okay, bub” and got close to her, because he never knew how to argue with Soyeon when she used the traffic warden voice, and then looked around with a mildly confused expression as if he’d missed something. The three-year-old pup then raised her arms up in the universal pup gesture that meant pick me up.
Jungkook executed the wordless command and kissed her cheek as she smeared the crumbly cracker all over his face.
Miyeon glanced at Huan Hyuna’s disappointed face and smiled.
That night she reported to Jimin, in what had now become their evening routine of cuddling together on the sofa. Miyeon liked this. She would probably keep up with it even after the crisis was resolved. Appa was soft, and smelled nice, and he gave the best hugs, and listened to her with the utmost attention. Miyeon was a quiet pup, but she loved her parents’ attention as every other pup.
“She made him pick her up,” he repeated, a fond smile tugging on his lips.
“She was very demanding.”
Jimin pressed both hands over his mouth to suppress his laughter. He could totally picture her small frown and her small fist agitating the cracker like a signaling disk.
“Appa. Focus.”
He collected himself. Mostly. His eyes were still bright. “Right. Right. And Daddy?”
“He still thinks Soyeon wanted to share her crackers with him.”
Jimin exhaled slowly. “He is going to figure this out at some point.”
“I don’t know, Appa,” Miyeon pursed her lips. “Uncle NamNam says Daddy is very smart, but actually he is more…” She made a gesture with her hands because no word came to mind.
“Dense?”
“What does it mean?”
“That his brain is a bit slow to understand things, like it moves through jelly.”
“Yes, he’s super dense. Thank you, Appa.”
Jimin lost it completely and hugged her mid-laugh, tumbling the both of them on the sofa. At that point, Miyeon also erupted into laughter. They heard small, quick steps getting closer and then a weight on top of Jimin, a loud scream of “CUDDLE PILE” filled the air followed by Soyeon’s giggles.
“Soso-ah, you need to wear your pyjamas,” Daddy came after her, Soyeon’s Toy Story pyjamas in his hands. “What is happening here?” he asked, with amusement in his tone.
“Kook, don’t you dare-“ Appa tried to warn him but he wasn’t quick enough, because Daddy joined the cuddle pile on top of them. He was mindful of his weight, but he was still a big man, so he squeezed and hugged all of his favorite people.
Miyeon screeched and cried for help in a fit of giggles, as Daddy managed to shower everyone in kisses, blanketing them with his soothing mint chamomile scent.
Her family was the best.
After her first success, Soyeon had officially joined Miyeon’s efforts to protect their Daddy from the banana-smelling woman.
Every Tuesday and Thursday morning, she began running her own intelligence operation, making Miyeon proud of her: she delivered short, declarative statements about Daddy’s status, at random to anyone nearby. To the teacher: “Daddy’s married.” To another child’s father who had merely held the gate open: “Daddy and Appa mine.” To Huan Hyuna herself, one Thursday, entirely unprovoked, while making direct and unflinching eye contact: “Daddy kisses Appa every day.”
The woman had replied through her teeth “he does, doesn’t he?” If, that evening, Miyeon shared her extra chocolate cookie with her sister as a reward, Daddy for sure didn’t need to know.
On her side of the tactical warfare, Miyeon had begun the scenting.
She didn’t exactly get how it worked, but she had observed her parents scenting each other without fail every single morning when they said goodbye, and every single evening when they reunited at home. Miyeon loved the mix of their scents, it was soft, sweet and lovely, it smelled like home.
Miyeon remembered that Daddy used to scent Appa’s belly multiple times a day when he was pregnant with Soyeon. When she asked why, he had explained to her that he felt a lot better when Appa smelled like him, it was like he was protecting him. Back then, it didn’t make a lot of sense for three-year-old Miyeon, now she finally understood what Daddy meant.
Appa also scented her before she left for school, or when she was sick, or sometimes just because he felt like it.
So Miyeon instinctually absorbed it. Scenting family was good, it was another way to say I love you. And it was also a protective gesture.
She would use her scent to protect her Daddy. So, in the mornings now, before he left, she hugged him longer and rubbed her face on his chin, in a different place from Appa. She pressed the smell of home into him before he went out.
And at pickup, when he crouched down to her level, she would do it again, layering her pup milky scent all over his coat, over Appa’s jasmine and Daddy’s chamomile.
She did not explain this. She did not need to.
Daddy, who was oblivious about many things, was not oblivious about this. He always hugged her back a little tighter when she did it, and made sure she could catch his scent properly, most of the time, he scented her back and Miyeon loved it.
“My little princess Mimi,” he would say, wrapping her tight in his big, strong arms.
She began doing it in front of Soyeon’s kindergarten gates, under the watchful eyes of Huan Hyuna, staring at her straight in the eyes as she rubbed her nose all over Daddy’s neck.
Jimin understood what was happening without being told. He had looked at her one morning, after Jungkook had left, with an expression that was very soft and a little full, and said “you’re so like me” so quietly she almost didn’t hear it.
She thought that was probably a compliment. Appa was amazing.
Soyeon’s kindergarten held a Family Spring Gathering in the second week of April.
It was, in concept, a straightforward event: families came to the kindergarten, the children performed a cute song, there were refreshments and a small exhibition of spring artwork, everyone talked to each other for ninety minutes and then went home. Miyeon went through several while she was in kindergarten. Now it was Soyeon’s turn, and even if she was a bit tired of hearing the Spring Song her little sister had to learn by heart for the performance, she was happy to be there.
What she was not happy about was Huan Hyuna and her Daddy being in the same kindergarten courtyard for ninety minutes, instead of the usual five minutes in front of the gates.
Since she learned of the Gathering, Miyeon had been thinking about her plan. She had discussed it with Appa in two separate planning sessions, once with a piece of paper between them. She had learned how to read during her first school year, so she was happy of this new development.
Jimin had contributed several ideas to the plan. He would be arriving slightly later than them due to a class that ended at four-thirty. He had explained this to Daddy very reasonably. Miyeon understood what he was doing: giving her the field first, and coming in for the final blow. Like the relay race they did for the Pup Olympics at school.
She had one shot at this. She intended to use it well.
The courtyard smelled like flowers and baked goods and was filled with the screeches of pups playing and running with each other. Miyeon walked in hand-in-hand with Daddy, and they were looking for Soyeon. On his right hand, Jungkook was carrying a tray of blueberry muffins he and Appa had baked the evening before. They smelled amazing and Miyeon couldn’t wait to have one.
Huan Hyuna was already there. Of course she was. She’d positioned herself near the refreshments, which was a nice tactic, Miyeon recognized that. Everyone passed the refreshments. She had Sooyeon beside her in a nice dress.
As they walked to the refreshment table to leave the muffins, Huan Hyuna spotted Daddy immediately and her nice smile appeared on her face.
Miyeon’s hold on Daddy’s hand tightened.
The woman came over, naturally, warmly, as she always did. Miyeon had never been an impulsive, aggressive pup, but she suddenly felt the urge to smear a muffin all over her dress and ruin it. Is this how Soyeon felt like most of the day?
“Jungkook-ssi! It’s so good to see you. Hi, Miyeon, what a cute dress.”
“Thank you,” she quipped, politely, with a small bow. She wouldn’t disappoint her parents by being rude. “Appa picked it for me.”
It wasn’t entirely true. Miyeon hadn’t let Appa pick her clothes since the beginning of the school year, because she was a big girl and she could choose what to wear. Appa had accepted this only because it took him enough time to get Soyeon appropriately dressed up. But he had bought it for Miyeon, that counted.
“Well, your appa has great taste,” the woman smiled, slightly charmed by the formality. “Your daddy talks about your family a lot.”
“Because he loves us very much. We are the best family.” She said it simply, stating a fact. “He’s very hard to distract from us.” She paused, as if this were just an interesting observation. “Uncle Yoongi says that at work he is only distracted when Appa calls.”
The woman’s smile went a little fixed.
Daddy, beside her, had not processed any of this yet. He was watching Soyeon, who had already located the cookies.
“Soyeon,” he called, “wait, bub-”
And then a small, beautiful piece of chaos happened.
Soyeon, reaching for a cookie, knocked over the small stack of paper cups beside the refreshment table. They didn’t break, nothing spilled, but they scattered, and she laughed at the noise they made, clapping her hands. The teacher nearby rushed over, and Daddy went after Soyeon, praying that she didn’t somehow stain the dress that Jimin had fought for thirty minutes to convince her to wear it.
Miyeon stayed next to Huan Hyuna, whose eyes hadn’t left her Daddy for even a second. Once again, she smelled like overripe bananas.
The pup crossed her arms in frustration. Why was nothing working? Was she waiting until her spell was ready? Miyeon wouldn’t allow that.
She thought back to a few days ago, when uncle Yoongi and uncle TaeTae came for dinner. She loved their visits, because they brought their one-year-old twins with them and they always listened to Miyeon’s story without trying to chew her hair as Soyeon did when she was one.
They were playing with wooden blocks on the rug while Appa and uncle TaeTae were at the table sipping on drinks. Daddy and uncle Yoongi were out on the balcony. She didn’t want to eavesdrop, but they weren’t exactly whispering so she couldn’t help but hear, especially when they mentioned her name.
“So, how’s princess Miyeon doing?”
“She’s doing amazing, you know her. She always thrives.” Later, she needed to ask Daddy what it meant. “Lately, though, she’s having a little problem.”
“Uh? What problem?”
“There’s some single mom hitting on Jungkook at Soso kindergarten and Miyeon is not having it.”
She heard uncle TaeTae laugh. She pouted. There was nothing funny about her Daddy being stolen away by a witch.
Appa sighed. “It sort of reminds me of college. I had to fight those little leeches away on a daily basis.”
“Those were the times. Namjoon used to say that your scent was so strong on him that some people mistook Kook for an omega.”
“What else was I supposed to do? Those wicked witches just wouldn’t stop. He was mine. Always will be.”
So this wasn’t the first time. That’s why Appa knew what to do, like a fairy fighting against the evil witches.
“And Miyeon’s and Soyeon’s, too, now.”
“Of course, he’s ours.” A small break. “Some people have a thick skull, and you need to use the heavy guns to crack it.”
Uncle TaeTae made a sound of agreement.
“I’m not bothered by it, I trust Jungkook with my life. I’m worried about Miyeon, she’s really worked up about it.”
“Does Kook know?”
A pause. “You know how dense he is.” They both giggled. “But I’m taking matters into my own hands at the Spring Gathering. I will show that woman that I’m not an omega to be messed with.”
Miyeon looked at the woman next to her. Huan Hyuna. With her annoyingly sweet scent and her nice smile and her constant attempts to touch her Daddy. She had seen plenty of parents interact with Daddy and no one ever behaved like her. She was an outlier in her otherwise amazing life and after six weeks and her plan not working as it should, the pup had enough.
“Excuse me,” she said, quietly enough that it was just for the woman. “Can I ask you something?”
Huan Hyuna looked down at her, a little surprised. “Of course.”
Miyeon looked at her, politely, her big eyes clear and honest, although her milky scent was a bit bitter.
“Can’t you find another mate?”
The woman’s mouth opened and closed multiple times, genuinely baffled. “W-what?”
“Can’t you find another mate?” she repeated, candidly. “Don’t you see that my Daddy already has a family?”
Huan Hyuna huffed, her cheeks red. Some parents were clearly making an effort to mind their own business while totally eavesdropping. “You’re messing with things that don’t concern you, pup.”
Her Daddy totally concerned her. Miyeon crossed her arms and stomped her foot. She raised her head to stare at the woman dead on, her voice rising unmanaged. Something hot and burning flared in her chest, rising all the way to her cheeks, which were now puffy and red.
“My Daddy is mine!” she exclaimed, and now the whole courtyard, including Jungkook who had been busy cleaning Soyeon’s cheeks from chocolate, could hear her clearly. “You are a witch! A witch trying to steal my Daddy with your evil spells!”
“Jeon Miyeon!” In three steps, Daddy was next to her. Miyeon expected him to be on her side, and instead- “We don’t talk this way, apologize now.”
Miyeon turned to watch her Daddy, who was looking at her with the stern expression that meant she was in trouble, with betrayal on her face. She wasn’t met with those eyes often, they were usually directed at Soyeon. When it happened, she would cower under that stare, be an obedient pup and do as her parents said. But for the first time in six years, Miyeon strongly felt that Daddy was wrong.
Couldn’t he see that she was protecting him? That she wanted to keep him close? That Huan Hyuna had a thick skull and Miyeon needed to make her understand that her family was precious and there was no place for her in it?
Tears gathered in her eyes. “NO!” She stomped her foot again. “She’s inappr-inappr… she’s bad! I don’t say sorry!”
“Miyeon, you’re being rude. Apologize to miss Hyuna, now.”
Miyeon’s eyes moved to the woman next to her and she could see the most minuscule of smiles on her face. Like she won the prize.
What a witch.
But Miyeon, above all, was a stubborn pup, and she wouldn’t go out without a fight.
“I said NO!” Frustrated and angry tears were now rolling down her cheeks. “You are too dense, Daddy. She’s trying to steal you from me!”
Jungkook was genuinely at a loss. He’d never seen Miyeon behave this way. She was always soft spoken, polite and gentle. After eighteen months of age, she never even had a tantrum anymore. For a while, he and Jimin had been worried about it and brought her to a child psychologist. She was perfectly fine. She was just a calm pup. So he'd never had to deal with an outburst like this from her.
He also couldn’t let her think that it was okay to speak to someone in that way, regardless of being right or not.
“Miyeon, listen to me-“
“I don’t want to listen to you! You’re wrong!” She screamed, then she ran away, inside the kindergarten building, bumping into a teacher on the way and not even stopping to apologize.
Jungkook was starting to go after her, when a hand on his shoulder stopped him. He was about to shrug it off when the familiar scent of jasmine hit his nose. He turned to meet the eyes of his mate, who was watching him with soft sternness.
“Take a minute to breathe, love, you shouldn’t be too emotional when you talk to her.”
He opened his mouth to protest, then sighed through his nose. He kissed his omega’s forehead, a gesture that always calmed him down.
Jimin nuzzled his chin and then turned to the woman next to them, who hadn’t moved an inch since this whole mess started. He narrowed his eyes and extended his hand.
“Jeon Jimin, pleased to meet you. You must be Sooyeon’s mother.”
“Huan Hyuna. Um.” She shook his hand. “Likewise.”
“Once Miyeon calms down, she will come out and apologize,” he reassured her with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
“Good-“
“Then I hope you will apologize, as well.”
“Sorry? What for?”
Jungkook also looked at him, confused.
“Well, for starters for hitting on a mated man in front of his pup in such a blatant, disrespectful way that she noticed it immediately. Then for leaving your dreadful scent on my mate even if I know you could clearly smell how thoroughly scented he is by me and his pups.”
“Baby-”
“And then,” Jimin went on as if Jungkook hadn’t even opened his mouth. “For having the gall to fight with a six-year-old pup and make her cry. I don’t like my children being upset, just so you know.”
“Jimin…”
“Go to your daughter, now, I will deal with you later,” the omega huffed and pointed at the doors. Like a hawk, he found the eyes of his youngest daughter. “Soyeonie, let’s go baby, you need to drink something before the performance.”
He took his baby’s hand and led her to the refreshments table, not before throwing another scalding look at Huan Hyuna.
Jungkook found her in an empty classroom, hidden behind a cabinet. Her arms were wrapped around her legs with her head resting on her knees. Her long, black hair cascading around her like a protective blanket. Her puppy milk scent was still sour at the edges, but much softer now.
When she heard someone come in, she raised her head. As her doe eyes found her father’s matching ones, she huffed and put her head back where it was, in complete silence.
Jungkook squeezed himself into the small space left between her little body and the wall, sitting on the floor next to her. She stubbornly kept her gaze fixed in the opposite direction of her dad.
They stayed in silence for a couple more minutes, then Jungkook broke it.
“I've always called you princess, but you have a strong, little warrior inside, huh?"
She exhaled noisily through her nose and didn’t move.
“I’m sorry, baby,” he went on, undeterred. “I didn’t notice what was happening with miss Huan and you got upset. You said it before, I’m a little dense.”
A beat of silence.
“You are super dense.”
“Were you afraid I would leave you?”
She didn’t say anything, then her head bobbed in confirmation.
“My love, my baby love, I would never ever leave you and our family. You, and Appa, and Soso are the best thing that ever happened to me, and I love you so much that my heart can barely keep all of my love inside.”
He was met with silence again, but her scent sweetened. He wrapped an arm around his daughter and brought her closer.
“In fact, I think my heart does a terrible job at keeping all of my love inside, because I always want to hug you and kiss you.”
“I like your hugs,” came the little whisper.
“I know you do,” he kissed the back of her head. “And you will get all the hugs you want until I’m old and wrinkly and cannot move my arms anymore.”
Miyeon fully melted into their hug and climbed on his lap, allowing her Daddy to fully hold her against his chest. “I’m sorry for screaming, and for being rude.”
“I accept your apology.” He scented her gently. They stayed like that for a few more minutes, then Miyeon raised her head from his chest to look him in the eyes.
"Aren't you mad that I told appa and not you?"
"Of course, not. Your appa is very smart, just like you. He would have noticed by himself." He looked at her. "But, please, next time talk to both of us. What you were trying to do was very sweet, but it's my job to protect you and make you happy."
"I also want to make you happy."
"You make me happy by being here next to me."
"Then can we please go back to being just us at pickup?"
Jungkook melted and hugged her tight, rubbing his cheek all over her head, spreading his scent like a blanket. "My little baby warrior princess. Were you jealous of daddy?"
She nodded against his chest, her arms tightening their hold.
"You're my daddy."
Later on, she was surprised to hear Huan Hyuna apologize to her too, after Miyeon had bowed at a ninety-degrees angle and apologized sincerely. The pup nodded and thanked her, and that was that. They reached a truce. The woman didn’t linger, she shot a look at Appa, who had been present during the whole exchange, a steady, reassuring presence behind Miyeon, and quickly left. Miyeon hoped to never speak to her again.
The three of them watched Soyeon perform her cute Spring Song together with the other pups, they clapped loudly and complimented her for remembering every word. Then Daddy brought them to his and Miyeon’s favorite bakery because I’ve had enough of this kindergarten for today.
For dinner, Daddy cooked ramyun and samgyeopsal and then they all cuddled on the sofa to watch a movie. Miyeon insisted to sit next to Daddy, cuddled close to his side, while Soyeon was soundly asleep on Appa’s chest. The movie was even halfway when she felt her eyelids grow heavy.
When she opened her eyes again, groggily, she was in bed, and she felt a kiss on her temple. “Sleep, baby,” came the soft whisper of her Appa, and a waft of jasmine scent covered her.
It was an eventful day, after all.
Before falling asleep again, she saw Daddy hug Appa tight and then they kissed for a long time.
“Were you jealous, too, jagiya?” An amused whisper.
“Tsk. You’re not going anywhere, Jeon Jungkook, you would be lost without me.”
“I really would.” A long pause. Two soft, tired sighs. “I love you, Jimin-ssi.”
“I love you, too.”
Jeon Miyeon’s family was truly the best.