Chapter Text
Koreatown, Los Angeles. Mid-March 1943.
Little Seoul, that’s what the residents called this small area of Los Angeles. Barely even two square miles, but it was home to over a thousand people. Many were immigrants, some had been born here. Small shops and restaurants lined the streets, making it seem a small bit like the place thousands of miles from where their ancestors had resided.
Most people here were poor. In Korean standards, they were rich, having enough money to pay for the boat journey across the Pacific. But due to housing laws which segregated everyone from the white population, these hard-working people weren’t able to move out of this small community.
They made the best of it though. The best restaurants attracted people from all over the city, the churches were centers of worship that acted as an escape from this area that could sometimes seem as if it was a prison. School was the way out of here, the adults always said. Study hard, and you can go to one of the schools on the east coast, where all the Korean intellectuals went to. Study, study and study.
Many though resigned to the fate that they would take over their family’s business someday. It seemed inevitable, it was only tradition that the son would take over the family business, and that the daughter would marry and have children. At least that was the unspoken preaching that occurred on a daily basis, the words that no one wanted to utter, but still had to hear.
***
Hoseok Jung was an anomaly in his community. His parents, Christian immigrants, had come over while his mother was pregnant. While the journey was riskier in that condition, it was a decision that his parents decided to take. They had no future in Korea, under Japanese colonial rule there was no opportunity. The church provided them opportunity, they always told Hoseok. The church allowed them to immigrate, sponsored them until they could make a living for themselves.
It wasn’t that Hoseok didn’t feel thankful for his parents bringing him here. Though in many ways, he wondered how different this could possibly be from Korea. They weren’t rich here, and they were also trapped. Not because of Japanese colonial rule, but because of racist American policies. No one could have predicted Pearl Harbor, and the many social changes that came with it. While Hoseok wasn’t Japanese, to the average white person, he was an Asian person determined to destroy America. It made Hoseok want to relinquish his identity more than anything.
But he still remained optimistic. It was the only thing that could keep him going, the prospect that someday the world would change, and that maybe he could emerge from this place known as Koreatown. Two square miles of land that was more of a prison than the paradise his parents always seemed to think it was.
***
All of the Koreans went to the same high school. Not the best school in all of Los Angeles, but certainly not the worst. The school had a mixture of ethnicities, but it didn’t really matter. Classes were segregated, the teachers were pretty much all white. It was clear that they weren’t exactly welcomed here.
This was first made clear all the way back when Hoseok entered elementary school. The teacher, not fond of pronouncing Korean names, decided that “Harold” would be a better fit for Hoseok. The boy wailed, begging the teacher to call him by his birth name in broken English. Said teacher resisted, until she noticed how Hoseok didn’t respond to anything besides the name his mother called him.
Hoseok’s first realization that he wasn’t wanted in this country was at 6 years old in a kindergarten classroom.
From then on, Hoseok and his friends all learned how to adapt. How to blend in, how to show that you were as American as everyone else who was born here, regardless of race or ethnicity. They wore American clothes, spoke English in public much of the time, and never brought attention to people. That was the easiest way.
It was a Wednesday in March 1943. The cafeteria was abuzz, though it had changed throughout the years of Hoseok attending the school. Before the war, many of the privileged kids went home for lunch, their mothers not in the workforce. But as their fathers got drafted, they soon didn’t have anyone to go home to, and became like the Korean children. The poor kids, who had both parents working just so they could make a liveable wage.
Even the cafeteria was segregated. The Korean kids took up half of the room, while the rest was filled by everyone else. In this setting, people occasionally spoke Korean, though it was a mixture of that and English. Once you learned English, you used it everywhere you could. It was the key to success, whereas speaking Korean was the key to remaining in endless poverty. It seemed obvious which one was the wise choice.
Interestingly enough though, as Hoseok ate the kimbap packed in his lunch that day, he heard some familiar voices talking in Korean coming towards his table. Odd, considering they all typically spoke in English. Out of curiosity, Hoseok looked up and saw a boy he would have guessed to be 13 years old coming towards him with his friends Jimin and Taehyung.
This boy screamed new immigrant. Instead of wearing the usual shirt, sweater and trousers the rest of his friends wore, this boy was in traditional Korean clothing. He was shorter than average, probably due to the lack of food and subsequent malnourishment back home. That explained why he looked 13, it was more likely that he was 16. Hoseok would have to ask to make sure though.
“Hello. I’m Jeon Jungkook.” The boy introduced himself in Korean, before making a polite bow. He would have to cease with that habit real quick, if he did that outside of Koreatown he was screwed. In America, you greeted with a handshake, or a wave if you were close friends.
“First name last name here kid,” a voice suddenly came out of the corner, said voice belonging to a young man reading a book. It was Yoongi, Hoseok’s closest friend. Like Hoseok, Yoongi had also been born in this country, his story similar to Hoseok’s. They had known each other for years, had been close friends since the 3rd grade. Though Hoseok didn’t always agree with Yoongi’s rather negative viewpoint of the world.
“S-sorry,” the boy, or Jungkook, replied. If Hoseok was guessing right, this kid (as Yoongi had called him) clearly had no idea about American customs. He likely knew no English either, but he would need to learn real soon. Otherwise, he wasn’t likely to last long.
“Give him a break Yoongi. He just came here a week ago.” That was Jimin, another one of Hoseok’s friends. Jimin was a junior, along with Taehyung. Jungkook must have also been a junior, considering he came with Jimin and Taehyung into the canteen. Poor kid was already looking scarred from the whole experience, after only uttering a few words.
Yoongi looked up from his book. He gave Jimin a sort of glare, though it wasn’t overly menacing or anything. It just was a subtle reminder, the unspoken words about how one must adapt to survive. Assimilation or else was the common theme in the life of a Korean immigrant.
“You are so naive sometimes Jimin.” The younger didn’t respond to that statement. Most people knew not to argue with Yoongi, minus Hoseok who was often given an exception to said rule.
“Hi Jungkook,” Hoseok started, speaking in Korean. He often preferred to speak in English, but since Jungkook clearly knew none, he wasn’t going to exclude the kid. Well, unless they wanted to talk behind his back or something. “I’m Hoseok. I’m assuming you know Jimin and Taehyung, and the one over there who corrected you is Yoongi. There’s also Namjoon, who is currently sitting in the library studying as always.”
Hoseok was looking around to see if he had forgotten to introduce anyone, and he realized that indeed, Seokjin was nowhere to be found. Rather unsurprising, he was almost never at school. A second year senior, he seemed to have no interest in graduating anytime soon, otherwise maybe he would show up.
“You forgot Seokjin-hyung,” added Taehyung before he took a bite of the ‘meal’ that sat on his tray. School lunch was nasty, Hoseok much preferred the meals that his mom prepared. They were delicious, which made sense. His family did kinda run one of the best Korean restaurants in the area.
They didn’t always use honorifics when they spoke in English, but when they spoke in Korean, it seemed a bit wrong not to use them. So hyung it was then.
“I can’t believe he’s ditching again. What a gold-brick, he’ll be in high school when he’s 50.” Hoseok looked back towards Yoongi in the corner, his friend seemingly having no interest in this whole conversation. Kicking him in the shin, Hoseok got Yoongi’s attention before speaking in English. “Could you please not be antisocial today? Don’t scare off the new one too much, that isn’t our job.”
Yoongi, although seemingly bothered, obliged anyways, closing the classic novel he happened to be reading. Instead of sitting on the window sill, he moved himself to a seat at the cafeteria table where the rest of his friends were eating. Though Yoongi hesitated to call Jimin and Taehyung his friends, as the two were rather annoying at times.
Soon enough, there was the sound of textbooks slamming the table. The person didn’t even need to introduce themself, as everyone already knew who it was. An aggravated Namjoon. The librarian had kicked him out, because she insisted that he should be socializing and not studying. He was Korean, did he really think he could actually get into a college? Namjoon tried not to take those words to heart, and instead used them as motivation. He was already on track to become the valedictorian, which he was sure the school wasn’t too excited about. The staff would have a delightful time picking who had to announce his name, even though Namjoon was definitely not the most difficult name to pronounce whatsoever.
“I can’t wait until that old hag gets fired!” Namjoon exclaimed a bit louder than he should, especially because he was speaking in English. That was one of the few benefits of speaking Korean, you could talk all about the teachers without them knowing a word that had been said. And even though Namjoon had only been living in the US for five years, his default language had become English. Hence, why he often exclaimed his frustrations in the language that wasn’t his mother tongue.
The rest of the teenage boys at the table tried not to giggle at this. Namjoon was quite hilarious when he was agitated, his face getting all red as he crumpled up notebook paper to relieve his frustrations. Jungkook just look confused, having absolutely no idea what had just been said.
“Yah, Jungkook. He just said he had a footsie with the librarian.” When Yoongi finished speaking, the entire table erupted into laughter. The mistranslation was funny to everyone, minus the tall figure who was even more agitated than before.
“That’s not what I said Yoongi! You’re such a fucking meatball!” Namjoon exclaimed in English. Once again, Jungkook was confused, but this time, Namjoon sought to clarify what had just been said. “For the record, I said that I hoped the librarian will get fired soon. Mr. Yoongi isn’t exactly known for his accurate translations.” Namjoon gave his friend a glare, before getting out his lunch for that day.
There was more chatter at the table. A mixture of English and Korean, along with a few more only semi accurate translations by Yoongi. When only 10 minutes remained, Yoongi brought up a good point that needed to be addressed. Jungkook’s wardrobe situation.
“Someone needs to take the kid to get American clothes.” As he didn’t want Jungkook to know about this yet, he spoke in English to the rest of the guys. “Like, soon.”
“I have to be at church after school, so I can’t go.” Jimin’s dad was the pastor at the largest Presbyterian church in the community, the one that many of the families in the neighborhood attended. He was known for being quite strict, so none of Jimin’s friends wanted to risk him showing up late for whatever he needed to be at church for on a Wednesday afternoon.
“I have to help my mom tailor a wedding hanbok, so I can’t go either.” Taehyung’s family ran a tailoring shop, the best one in the neighborhood many argued. Even though Taehyung was a boy, he still knew how to sew, and often helped around in the shop. With something as big of a project as Taehyung was talking about, it was sure that his help was needed.
This left only three people to take Jungkook, since Seokjin was clearly out of the picture. If he wasn’t at school, the unspoken rule was to not contact him that day. The one time Jimin had tried to call him hadn’t gone so well, and it was one of the reasons why he and Yoongi hadn’t gotten along since the incident. Clearly it wasn’t a good idea for Jimin to give Seokjin a ring, and Yoongi had made sure of that, giving Jimin a lecture so that he didn’t try doing it ever again.
Hoseok figured that he might have to help at the restaurant after school, but he didn’t know for sure, and wasn’t the type to lie. He didn’t want to go alone though, he was not about to go around with someone who was not assimilating as he needed to. The amount of embarrassment, the amount of racial slurs they could hear. It was all enough for Hoseok to feel sick to his stomach.
“Well I mean, I kind of have to study-”
“Wow Namjoon, that’s the most surprising thing I’ve heard all day!” The amount of sarcasm that was found in Yoongi’s voice could have been described as rather hilarious, along with the animated facial expression that came with it. Said teenage boy had his mouth wide open, as if this was truly indeed the most shocking thing he had ever heard.
Namjoon was not amused by this whatsoever, especially after the whole footsie incident from earlier. “Yoongi, do you have something against me?”
“I don’t know, that question is above my pay grade sir.” In response, Namjoon rolled his eyes, before going to take notes on some bodily system. He took biology along with Hoseok, Yoongi and Seokjin, the first two often mooching on him for the notes. Seokjin couldn’t care less, as the days he actually showed up for class, he sat in the back just staring towards the wall. Yoongi told Hoseok once it was because he was deep in thought, though Hoseok doubted this. Seokjin didn’t seem like the person to have deep, intellectual conversations with himself. He was no Namjoon, that was forsure.
Hoseok gulped, before saying something that he felt he might regret later. “I’ll take him. Only if someone comes with me though. But I don’t have much money, so I say we all chip in to get him a few nice shirts, along with a few nice rips. Cool?”
Everyone nodded in response, each of them chipping in a dollar or two to the pool. If they went to the discount store, the really good one that was outside of Koreatown, they probably could get a fair amount for the money.
“I’ll go with Hoseok,” Yoongi added suddenly. He collected the money on the table, pocketing it before anyone else could get their hands on the paper gold. Hoseok was immediately relieved to hear this, as he wasn’t about to go alone on this expedition. Though he also wasn’t going to admit that he didn’t want to go alone, which is why he was glad that Yoongi offered up his service. Maybe he had sensed his friend’s fear, the general anxiety that seemed to loom about him.
The bell was to ring in a few minutes, so they all quickly informed Jungkook of what was going to occur. Not knowing any better and figuring this is what he needed to do, he agreed.
It was set. The bell rang, and everyone went off to their afternoon classes for that day.
***
Before taking Jungkook out on an expedition that wasn’t in Koreatown, there were a few things that needed to occur. Most notably, an explanation of the rules of going out into American public spaces, the cultural expectations they had to meet. The three all sat on Hoseok’s front porch, arguably one of the nicest in the neighborhood.
Ideally, they wouldn’t have taken out Jungkook the way he was, but no one seemed to have American clothes that would fit his stature. On the way back though, Jungkook would walk into his house looking as if he had been here slightly more than a week. Truly, as long as he didn’t speak, he could pass off fairly decently in society, just by changing his clothes.
“First things first,” began Hoseok, as Yoongi was still engrossed in the same book he was reading earlier. He wondered what it was about, while Yoongi liked to read he didn’t like to read this much. Hoseok personally considered himself more of a play person, he wanted to perform on broadway someday. “Don’t speak Korean in a loud voice in public. Only in whispers.”
Speaking any other language in public was a dead giveaway that you weren’t a ‘true’ American, minus the look of one’s face. But for many people, the ability to speak English was a way to show that you were loyal to the American government, and not the filthy Japanese. Though what Korean would like the Japanese, said people had colonized their country. They weren’t exactly best friends by any means politically.
“Second, don’t draw attention to yourself. Keep a low profile.” Hoseok, being a rather outgoing person, found it difficult keeping the attention away from himself at times. But through many years of practice, he learned that not making eye contact and keeping one’s head down was a way to ensure that no one would really notice you. Hats helped too, to conceal one’s hair color.
“And third, once we get you new clothes, never wear the ones you wore in Korea ever again. Even in Koreatown, don’t even bother. From now on, you’re an American teenage boy.” Jungkook looked at Hoseok as if his newfound friend was giving him the most important pep talk of his life. His eyes were wide, his mouth agape like a small child seeing candy in front of their face. It was clear that the wheels in his brain were turning, that slowly but surely, he would adapt like the rest of them.
Ideally, the three wanted to beat the rush hour traffic, so they set off for the bus. Very few people in their community owned a car, and the only one Hoseok and Yoongi had ever ridden was Seokjin’s, the older having a license and knowing how to drive. Most of the time they walked, took a streetcar or took the bus. The bus seemed to be the most convenient option for what they needed to do today, so the trio waited at the neighborhood stop for the vehicle to come.
Once it came, Yoongi stepped in first, depositing the couple cent fare. Hoseok went in next, depositing the fare for both him and Jungkook. He couldn’t help but the notice the way the driver looked towards Jungkook, but thankfully he refrained from making any comments.
Not knowing better, Jungkook took a seat in the front of the bus. He really didn’t feel like walking towards the back, and there were only a few people onboard anyways. Why would it matter?
“Jungkook, get back here!” Hoseok shouted, in English. He knew the boy wouldn’t understand anything besides his name, but Hoseok was not about to shout in Korean. He also really didn’t want to go up to the front of the bus to fetch this little friend of his, better off acting like he didn’t associate with him if he wanted to be on a good page with the bus driver. Yoongi wasn’t being much help, still absorbed in his book. Hoseok wondered how he was able to read in a moving vehicle, how he didn’t feel an urge to vomit as he read the tiny print.
Thankfully for Hoseok, Jungkook guessed that the older was calling him to the back of the bus. He got up, running like a small child would to his mother when they had disobeyed. Hoseok gave him a bit of a glare, before gesturing for the sixteen year old to take a seat beside him, as Yoongi had chosen the seat across the way.
“Hyung, why can’t I sit in the front of the bus?” Making sure not to break another supposed rule, Jungkook whispered to Hoseok, as he was speaking in Korean. There was genuine confusion laced in his voice, which he wanted Hoseok to dispel. The older seemed so knowledgeable about this topic.
“You just don’t, alright? Stay by me and Yoongi the rest of the time, it’s for your own good.”
“Ok!” Hoseok was thankful that ok was a cognate, as Jungkook had already forgotten another rule. Was it really that hard for a foreigner to assimilate in this country? Truly, Hoseok would never know, he had always lived in America, even if it was in Koreatown. From the time he started school, he was wearing American clothes, and knew various American mannerisms. Little kids learn quickly, and soon enough (besides from looks), Hoseok was quite similar to any other boy his age.
The bus ride was slow, being that rush hour had begun already. Albeit this was a bit frustrating, but Hoseok, Yoongi and Jungkook all rode the ever so nice bus until it reached their destination. The discount clothing store.
***
When you lived just above or at the poverty line, there wasn’t much room for choice when it came to where you got to shop. Most Korean families did their shopping for food in the neighborhood, helping to support their neighbors. Things like clothes though couldn’t really be bought in the community, unless you were looking for a Jungkook-esque style outfit.
From the time Hoseok started to get into fashion, he had to learn where to fill his hunger for style for much cheaper than what he saw in catalogs. The discount store they stood outside of now was the best in the area, about five miles away from home. While the friendliness of the employees tended to vary, most of the time Hoseok and his friends were welcomed. Which was the proper treatment they needed to receive, considering they were paying customers like everyone else.
There was definitely a few stares from the lady at the cashier stand when the three walked in, but Hoseok ignored it. Jungkook was oblivious, being absolutely enamored by the racks of clothes that laid in front of him. All different type of shirts, shorts, trousers, shoes. This is what the American dream was all about, this is the America his mind had conjured up.
Yoongi had finally stopped reading his book, so he and Hoseok led Jungkook back into the clearance area. The discount section of the discount store, where the $10 they had gotten from the money pool earlier that day would go to the best use. While the style was definitely a bit outdated, it would do for Jungkook. Not that the younger was even going to notice that he was out of fashion by a season, he was so excited by all the garments that surrounded him.
“Try to pick a few different items, and look at the price tags. There’s a fitting room in the corner, so after picking a few things go try them on to make sure they are the right size.” The store wasn’t too busy, so Hoseok felt it would be alright letting Jungkook run free. He wasn’t trying to steal anything, and wasn’t frivolously trying to take things off the racks either. If a salesperson came up to him, Jungkook could either call Hoseok for help or use non-verbal communication to say that he was good. This was unlikely though, typically the women on the floor didn’t bother teenage boys of any race or ethnicity. They just watched to make sure they didn’t try to pull a fast one and steal something.
Neither Hoseok nor Yoongi needed to buy anything, so they opted to sit in the corner while Jungkook picked items. They hoped he would look at the mannequins as a basis for what he should choose, though neither of them were going to let Jungkook out of here before seeing what he chose.
“How long do you think it will take him to learn English?” Yoongi asked out of the blue. Hoseok figured that his friend had gone back to reading, so he hadn’t been expecting conversation. The question brought Hoseok out of his daydreaming, a habit that he sometimes wished he didn’t have. “You moon so often Hoseok, get your head out of the clouds.”
“Sorry,” Hoseok said as he snapped out of his thoughts. “Anyway, I honestly don’t know. Maybe a few months for basic conversation? If we have Namjoon tutor him, he probably could be fluent in those few months.”
Yoongi snorted. Having Namjoon as your English teacher would probably seem like a nightmare for any new immigrant. “The one who memorized a whole dictionary to learn English? He would probably have Jungkook do the same!” Hoseok couldn’t help but to laugh at that one.
“You’re right. As much as I want him to learn English, he needs to do it in a way that won’t stress him out so much that he refuses to learn the language all together. Plus, it is a bit satisfying speaking about him without him even knowing.” When Hoseok finished, Yoongi in response gave him a look of confusion. Talking behind someone’s back was surely against Hoseok’s morals, but maybe that wasn’t what he had meant.
“Isn’t that against your values? Talking behind someone’s back?”
“This isn’t gossiping Yoongi! My oh my.” Hoseok shook his head in a comedic way, making his friend giggle. They both fell into a fit of laughter, most likely due to Yoongi’s sudden tickling spree. Their spirits were fairly high right now, the weather was nice and nothing had gone wrong yet during their time out. Plus, it looked as if Jungkook was going to find some nice clothes that would benefit him greatly in his future endeavors as an American teen.
Speaking of Jungkook, during the tickling fit, he came out after choosing an outfit he felt looked best. Not sure of how to get the attention of his two new friends, he tried various non verbal methods before deciding that saying their names would be the only English speaking way to get their attention, that he knew of course. And it worked, the two turning so they could see what Jungkook had picked.
Hoseok was pleasantly surprised with what he saw. Not that he thought Jungkook wasn’t capable of picking clothes, if Taehyung could pick clothes anyone could (Hoseok did not think that Taehyung had a particularly good style). The sweater, shirt and trousers he had chosen all matched well, complimenting each other rather nicely. Jungkook had also chosen a pair of black lace up shoes, which would go with anything.
After picking out a pair of shorts, along with another shirt, sweater and pair of trousers, their shopping was complete. With the discount on the discount plus Hoseok’s negotiating skills with the employee (one that he happened to know was friendly) to get the price down even more, they got all the clothes with money left to spare. With Jungkook in his new outfit, Hoseok decided it wasn’t wise to go get ice cream, and that they should just go back home. And it seemed like a wise idea, as if they weren’t home soon their parents might get worried even though they were indeed 16 and 18 year old kids.
***
The bus was busier on the way back, due to the time being in the five o’clock hour now. While there were a few seats open in the front, Hoseok suggested that it would be better if they all stood towards the back instead. Which turned out to be a good idea, as once some people got off, they were able to take those now empty back seats, not the ones in the front.
Close to 40 minutes after they had initially gotten on, the trio were getting off the bus. In front of them were small homes, intermixed with various shops and other business. It was unmistakably Koreatown, the awnings on the stores having both the Latin alphabet and Hangul gracing them. People came in and out of the shops, the neighborhood itself not ever really resting. Most families worked until quite late in the evening and started early the next day. The only exception to that was Sunday, the day of worship and rest. Many businesses were closed, and the ones who remained open saw large amounts of business, especially after morning church service.
What these shops really provided though was more than just goods and services. They provided connection, a place where one could speak Korean and not in broken English. Where everyone was family, no matter if you had ever met before. Everyone shared one common identity, the fact that they were Korean.
It was a bit of a walk to the area where Hoseok and Yoongi resided, and they weren’t sure where Jungkook lived so they figured he could just walk back with them. Not that it would matter anyways, as Namjoon had offered to translate the homework for him so the younger could attempt to complete it, and his house was near Hoseok’s and Yoongi’s. Poor Jungkook was in for quite a lesson, as Namjoon wasn’t exactly known for being an easy tutor. Sure, he was great to steal notes from, but that was the limit when anyone interacted with Namjoon on an academic subject.
As they were walking though, they saw a familiar figure in the distance. This figure was tall, and was wearing the illicit zoot suit, something commonly worn in night clubs. It wasn’t usual to see someone wearing one in Koreatown, as they weren’t exactly the cheapest by any means. There was also a shiny black car, one from early 1942, as that was the newest car one could get at the time. It was rather obvious who this person was, the stature itself giving their identity away. Broad shoulders, small waist. It was Seokjin.
The 19 year old leaned back against a wall, smoking a cigarette. He had just gotten off work for a bit, and was killing time before he would need to go back for the evening. Typically he tried to keep a somewhat low profile in the community, but he was open to speaking with his friends. The friends that reminded him he still had an identity here, and that he wasn’t completely losing his high school self.
“What’s cooking?” Hoseok and Yoongi approached Seokjin, though Jungkook seemed rather intimated. He stood behind the two, his eyes wide open in a bit of fear. Who exactly was this person? Was he a gangster like one would see in the movies?
Seokjin took another puff on his cigarette. “Not much. Just the usual.”
“You gotta come to school someday! We miss you at lunch.” The older nearly chuckled at the younger’s naivety. Even though Hoseok had been 18 for over a month now, there were so many things that he didn’t know about in this world. Seokjin knew that Hoseok would not be able to grasp why he was never in school, and subsequently why he never ate lunch with them. His work was much more demanding.
“I’ll try kid. First I gotta figure out how to forge my grades so I can graduate this year with the rest of you all.”
“You better not tell Namjoon that.” Hoseok looked around, as if he was expecting Namjoon to come around the corner at any moment and say something. Not that Seokjin would listen, the older did what he pleased it seemed. He got away with ditching school all the time, not one person in the administration caring. His mother didn’t seem to care either, or maybe she thought her son was in school when he really wasn’t.
“Hey Yoongi, how’s the book I gave you?” asked Seokjin in an attempt to change the subject.
Wait what? Seokjin read books? He went to the library? Hoseok tried to mask his shock, but he had not expected Seokjin, of all people, to recommend a book for Yoongi to read. Clearly whatever he recommended was a solid pick though, as his friend had only put the novel down very few times that day.
“It’s quite good,” responded Yoongi in a pleasant manner. “Gives me more insight on you know…” The phrase wasn’t completed, which confused Hoseok. And Jungkook, who had been lost from the beginning of the conversation since not a word had been uttered in Korean. He was debating on asking where Namjoon lived so he could go there for his tutoring, but refrained as he didn’t want to interrupt the conversation that was foreign to him.
“Insight on what? Would I like it?”
“Oh Hoseok,” Seokjin said as he patted the younger’s shoulders a few times. “I think it’s a bit too..edgy for you. I don’t know if you would understand it.”
Hoseok didn’t really like when Seokjin belittled him like this. He knew that his friend was against the fact that he attended church, and always branded him as an innocent soul. Hoseok wasn’t innocent though, he knew a bunch of swear words and about...that.
So maybe Hoseok was a bit innocent. But no one needed to know that. Especially not Seokjin. Thankfully for Hoseok, Jungkook’s more pressing concern of how to get to Tutor Namjoon’s ended this small portion of their conversation.
“Umm, sorry to interrupt. But where does Namjoon-hyung live?” The sudden Korean alarmed Seokjin for a second, as he rarely spoke the language anymore. He also had no idea who this small little kid was, the one who looked as if he had barely been in this country for more than a day. Which was kind of true.
“Right across the street.” Jungkook turned around to look at the small home across the way, before turning back to look at Seokjin. The tall figure gave him a grin, Jungkook getting the vibe that this guy in the suit knew something that he didn’t. Namjoon seemed like an ok person though, he was a bit crazy with his studies but that wasn’t the worst thing. “Have fun getting English lessons from dictionary boy.”
“D-dictionary boy? What’s that-”
Seokjin was rather amused by the small individual in front of him, mainly because of the fact that he had absolutely no idea what he had gotten himself into. Namjoon was going to try and teach this kid the English language in a week, a feat that was impossible by conventional standards, unless of course you were Namjoon himself. “You’ll see.”
The chuckle after that statement made Jungkook increasingly more worried, but nonetheless he decided it would be time to go to Namjoon’s. Hopefully this guy (who Jungkook hadn’t learned his name yet) was just messing with him. He seemed like the type to do so.
This left Hoseok and Yoongi, the latter going back to reading the novel. Hoseok was feeling a bit awkward over the whole comment saying he was innocent, so he just decided it would be best to leave. Plus he was sure that Seokjin would love to discuss this fascinating work with Hoseok’s best friend, so it was best to go home and get a head start on his homework. Hoseok needed to stop back at the restaurant later that evening anyways, to help his parents with the usual clean up that occurred everyday.
***
Things were starting to change in Hoseok’s life. Jungkook’s arrival had been the first, but soon enough more events would begin to happen. As high school was almost at the finish line, a new race would begin. A race of life, a race of emotions that no one could have ever predicted.