Chapter 5: What He Hates Most
He hated how quiet the house had become after Ji Eun’s death.
But he hated the new noise even more.
Jiwoo’s laughter down the hall.
Taehyung’s low hums when he thought no one was listening.
The way the floors creaked slightly different with someone else pacing them.
It all made Jungkook feel like his life was moving on without him.
But not nearly as much as he hated Taehyung.
That was what he told himself, anyway.
Taehyung was always too… bright.
Too soft in a house made of grief and granite.
Too patient, even when Jungkook snapped at him like a wounded animal.
Every time Jungkook caught a glimpse of him—bending to pick up Jiwoo with careful hands, or laughing quietly when she smacked peas on his shirt—it scratched something raw in him.
Kim Namjoon
You need to come downstairs
Namjoon said one morning, stepping into Jungkook’s study.
Kim Namjoon
The board wants your input on next quarter’s launch.
Jeon Jungkook
I’m not part of the company anymore.
He muttered, not even looking up.
Kim Namjoon
You’re still its face.
Jeon Jungkook
They’ll survive without my face.
Kim Namjoon
They won’t survive without your name.
Jungkook turned toward the window, where sunlight was hitting the floorboards in long golden streaks.
He used to like mornings.
Ji Eun used to make coffee and play music from her phone while Jiwoo babbled in her highchair.
Now the smell of coffee made his stomach churn.
And music?
He hadn’t listened to a single song since the crash.
Taehyung singing softly upstairs. Just a lullaby.
Jungkook’s throat tightened.
That afternoon, he caught Taehyung in the kitchen, humming while prepping Jiwoo’s bottle
Jeon Jungkook
You sing too much.
Kim Taehyung
She likes it.
Jeon Jungkook
She liked her mother’s voice better.
Taehyung finally looked at him, eyes steady but not unkind.
Kim Taehyung
I’m not trying to replace her.
Jeon Jungkook
Then stop acting like you belong here.
Kim Taehyung
Maybe I don’t,
Kim Taehyung
But Jiwoo deserves someone who shows up anyway.
Jungkook opened his mouth—but the words died.
He hated that answer.
He hated how calm Taehyung always was.
He hated how right it sounded.
He turned and wheeled away, pulse thudding in his ears.
That night, he passed the nursery and heard Jiwoo giggling. He paused, hand on the wall.
Taehyung’s voice floated through the half-closed door.
Kim Taehyung
We got through another day, little star.
Kim Taehyung
You’re doing so well.
Kim Taehyung
And guess what?
Kim Taehyung
I think your appa misses you more than he lets on.
Jungkook’s hands curled into fists in his lap.
Because what he hated most—
More than the memories,
More than the grief,
More than the quiet—
Was that Taehyung wasn’t wrong.
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