Chapter Text
Min Jimin wakes up with a smile on her face. It’s her birthday tomorrow, and that means she can finally read her mother’s thirteenth, and final, letter to her. Jimin hops out of bed in a whirlwind of excitement. She runs to her closet and picks out her favorite outfit, a pink hoodie with a brown and black calico cat on it. She also puts on her black jeans. Once that is all done, she finishes getting ready in the bathroom; before finally, she skips down the stairs to greet her grandmother.
“Halmeoni! Good morning!” she says as she kneels down at their table. She loves their table. Her favorite cushion, a robin blue with pink daisies, is where she always sits. Her father told her that her mother picked it out for her before she passed away.
“Well good morning, Little Sprout. Are you excited for your birthday tomorrow?” her grandmother inquires as she begins plating Jimin’s breakfast of Kimchi Eggs.
“Of course, I am! It’s my final letter from Eomma,” Jimin beams.
Her grandmother smiles sadly at her, before teasing, “And will you be staying up until midnight like last year?”
“NO! Appa scolded me last time.” Jimin pouts as she begins eating.
“Well of course Yoongi scolded you. He worries about you more than himself,” her grandmother chuckles.
“Do you think Appa should get remarried, Halmeoni?” Jimin asks as she eats more of her eggs.
Her grandmother looks at Jimin curiously before huffing. “Yoongi is too stubborn to remarry. He doesn’t want to disgrace your Eomma.”
“But wouldn’t Eomma want Appa to be happy?” Jimin tilts her head. Her confusion is obvious on her youthful face.
“Love is complicated, Little Sprout. Now eat up. You’ve got to prepare for your debate competition later tonight, and you’ve got your date with Appa.” her grandmother reminds her.
Jimin smiles at her. Of course, she remembers her date with her father. They are going to walk by the river before visiting her mom at the columbarium. That’s why she dressed up so nice today after all.
Jimin stands leaning against the railing of the Hangang bridge. Her father is late, by an HOUR! She kicks the toe of her converse into the pavement, frowning. When suddenly, a pink rose is pushed in front of her face. She spins around to come face to face with a very winded Min Yoongi.
“Well, hello, Appa.” she says, her tone sassy. She is not happy, and she wants her father to know it.
“Hello there, Kitten. I’m sorry Appa is late, but I brought you this,” her father brings his hand from behind his back to display an adorable white cat plushie. In its arms was a pink heart, the words ‘생일축하’ (Happy Birthday) are inscribed. Jimin perks up at the sight of it. She outstretches her hands for the cat. Her father chuckles before handing it over to her. “Do you forgive me now, Kitten?” he asks.
Jimin looks at him before tucking the cat into the crook of her arm so she could hold out her hands, palms facing the sky.
Her father sports his famous gummy smile at the sight, before he whistles their tune. It is a soft series of notes in a drawn-out whistle. It is the start of Jimin and her father’s super-secret, super special handshake. Once the whistle is done, her father claps his hands into her palms. Before she does the same to his own. Then, together, they each use their index finger to brush against the other’s nose, finishing their handshake.
Jimin smiles at her father, before she launches into his arms. “Ready to go see Eomma, Kitten?” her father asks her, as he brushes her hair from her face. Jimin nods. And soon the two are making their way to the columbarium.
Jimin looks into her mother’s locker, a smile on her face. “Hi, Eomma! I brought Appa! Say hi, Appa,” she says, looking at her father. He smiles softly at her, before he looks back to the picture of her mother.
“Hey there, Harin." He chokes out. “It’s Jiminie’s birthday tomorrow. But I suppose you already know that.” he chuckles.
Yoongi can still remember the day the doctor told Harin she would not survive giving birth. They had both cried: Yoongi, for the loss of their unborn daughter, and Harin, for the loss of her chance to see her daughter grow up.
Yoongi had been so mad when she told the doctor she would go through with the birth. He had been unable to understand why she’d sacrifice her own life. But she had just smiled at him, tears streaking down her face as she told him she had always dreamed of having a child, and she wanted to go through with it, even at the cost of her life. Yoongi had held her, crying into her shoulder as they laid on her hospital bed together.
The following weeks had been the hardest Yoongi had ever been through, as he watched his wife slowly wither away. As she slaved away at writing their unborn child letter after letter for each of her first thirteen birthdays. When Yoongi asked why she stopped at thirteen, she merely replied that she had it all planned out, and not to meddle in her motherly business. Yoongi agreed, how could he deny her wish? When their daughter was finally born, Harin looked horrible, but Yoongi can still remember her smile as she held their child for the first, and last, time. The sight was so heartbreaking, and Yoongi looked at his hands, which were gripping onto her hospital bed.
“Hello little, Jimin.” she cried. As her broken smile beamed at her daughter cradled in her arms.
Yoongi’s eyes snapped to hers, with a protest on the tip of his tongue.
“Yoongi, her name is Jimin. You can’t tell me no, I already wrote all the letters addressing her as such.” she had said stubbornly, glaring at him.
“But-” he tried again, before she cut him off stubbornly.
“Yoongi, please just give me this one, okay?” she pleaded, as she stared into her daughter’s eyes.
And how could he say no to her? He frowned, before nodding stiffly. Not wanting to fight with her when her time was so fragile.
“Good. Thank you, Love. Take care of her and of yourself.” And then she was taking her blue and pink friendship bracelet off her own wrist and tying it to Jimin’s wrist carefully. She kissed Jimin’s head before she closed her eyes, falling into a deep sleep that she would never awake from
“Appa?” Jimin speaks up after a while of her father just staring at her mother’s picture. Yoongi jumps slightly, and looks down at Jimin, who smiles encouragingly at her father.
“Are you all ready to go, Kitten? You’ve got the debate tonight,” he says softly, noticing the way Jimin’s hands are clutching her new cat plushie tightly.
“I’m ready, Appa,” she smiles. As she marches out of the room, Yoongi spares one last glance at Harin’s picture, before following her out.
The debate went well, Jimin’s team won, of course. And before long they are returning to their home to eat dinner.
“You did so well, Little Sprout!” her grandmother praises as she serves them their food, giving Jimin an extra-large helping of kimchi.
“Thank you, Halmeoni!” She smiles sweetly. Both for the kimchi, and for the praise that meant so much to her.
“Are you planning on going straight to bed after dinner?” her father asks. Though, everyone can hear the order behind his question.
Jimin nods her head. “I want to be well rested for Eomma’s last letter,” she smiles at him wistfully.
Jimin gets ready for bed quickly, hastily throwing on her pajamas so she can hurry and sleep. She always hates this part the most. The nights before her birthdays are always the most exhausting. Her impatience to read the letters always keeps her awake all night. This time though, it seems she really is sleepy. Because, before long she is already drifting to sleep, thoughts of her mother filling her dreams.
Jimin wakes up to her alarm. She quickly dismisses it, before she runs out of her room. She practically skips the stairs as she launches herself to the table, where a pile of wrapped presents waits for her, but she doesn’t pay any mind to the boxes, and their fancy wrapping paper. Her priority is on her letter. She finds it quickly, a pretty pink envelope covered in blue stickers. Some dolphins, flowers, and birds, among others, are beautifully arranged around the letter.
Jimin kneels on her pillow, before she carefully opens the letter, doing her best to prevent the envelope from ripping. Jimin’s eyes widen as she pulls the letter out. It is almost 3 times as long as her mother’s previous letters. Jimin counts about 20 pages in total. Which is insane! Jimin sets the letter down and grabs a glass of water. She'll be reading for a while, and she wants to be prepared so she isn’t interrupted - even by something as basic as thirst. When she gets back to the table, she sits down and adjusts herself to be in a comfortable position before she begins to read.
My dearest Jimin,
Today is your thirteenth birthday! I’m sure you look just like Appa, right?
Jimin pouts. “No, I look like YOU, Eomma,” she protests, before continuing to read.
I’m sure you’ve noticed by now, but your Appa is a creature of habit. He has a hard time with change, and he tends to bottle up his feelings, thinking he needs to help others instead of himself.
Jimin takes a moment to think about it and agrees with her mother’s assessment. Her father really doesn’t ever take care of himself. Jimin frowns.
For your final letter, I am going to tell you a story. A story that you’re finally old enough to understand. This is the story of your Appa, Myself, and your Appa’s best friend, Jimin.
Jimin tilts her head in confusion. Her father knew another Jimin? He’d never mentioned another Jimin before. Curiosity peaked, Jimin turns back to the letter in her hands.
Fifteen years ago…