The sky outside the classroom was pale, like it couldn’t decide whether to rain or shine.
Inside, the air smelled like glue sticks and freshly sharpened pencils.
Taehyung sat by the window again, sleeves rolled over his palms, a little box of crayons open in front of him. He liked the pale blue best. It reminded him of his mother’s lullabies — soft, endless, and just a little sad.
Jungkook plopped down next to him, breathless from running laps in the corridor.
“You draw so quiet,” Jungkook said, leaning over. “Can I color with you?”
Taehyung nodded without a word. Then—he did something brave.
He pushed the entire crayon box toward Jungkook.
“All of them?” Jungkook asked, blinking.
Taehyung nodded again. “You can use any color.”
Jungkook smiled, wide and dimpled. “Even the shiny gold one?”
Taehyung’s lips twitched. “Even that one.”
Jungkook picked it up like it was treasure. “Thanks, Tae.”
From across the room, Jimin watched.
He wasn’t being sneaky — Jimin never was — but there was something different in his gaze now. A flicker of something he didn’t yet have a name for.
Maybe it was curiosity.
Maybe something else.
He made his way over, slow and thoughtful.
“You’re not usually this quiet, Kook,” he said, plopping down on Taehyung’s other side.
“Taehyung gave me his crayons,” Jungkook explained, holding up the gold stub like a trophy.
Jimin’s eyes flicked to Taehyung.
“You’re sharing?” he asked, tilting his head.
Taehyung nodded shyly.
Jimin smiled. “That’s nice.”
Then he reached into his own backpack, pulled out a piece of white paper, and began folding it with quick, practiced fingers.
“What’re you doing?” Jungkook asked.
“Making a plane.”
“A paper plane?”
“No,” Jimin deadpanned, “a real one.”
Jungkook snorted. “You’re weird.”
“Takes one to know one.”
Taehyung watched them, silent and still.
He didn’t speak much, but he noticed everything.
The way Jungkook leaned closer to Jimin when he laughed.
The way Jimin’s hand brushed Jungkook’s knee when he leaned over.
And then—how Jungkook reached out to tuck Taehyung’s fallen crayon behind his ear, careful and soft.
“You’ll drop it,” he said simply.
Taehyung’s breath caught.
His fingers touched the crayon behind his ear.
Warm. A little bit golden.
By the time their drawings were done, there was a paper tiger, a rainbow-splattered sky, and a very fat-looking bunny.
“That’s not a bunny,” Jimin pointed at Jungkook’s paper. “It’s a potato with ears.”
“It’s my bunny,” Jungkook insisted.
“Potato,” Jimin repeated with a grin.
Taehyung didn’t say anything.
He just folded his own paper into something delicate.
Not a tiger. Not a bunny.
A plane.
“Here,” he whispered, offering it to Jungkook.
Jungkook blinked. “You made one too?”
Taehyung nodded.
“It’s… really nice,” Jungkook said, running a thumb over the folds.
Then—impulsively—he launched it across the room.
It soared.
Dipped.
Glided straight into the teacher’s desk.
The class burst into laughter.
Even Miss Han cracked a smile.
But Jimin didn’t laugh.
He stared at the plane.
At the careful way it was made.
At the way Jungkook held it like it was precious.
At the way Taehyung watched Jungkook’s face instead of the flight.
Something in Jimin’s chest shifted.
Just a little.
Not pain. Not yet.
But awareness.
Like he’d just heard the first note of a song he didn’t know the lyrics to — but already feared he wouldn’t forget.
Later that day, they sat on the school steps waiting for their parents.
Taehyung's fingers curled around his backpack strap.
Jungkook leaned against his shoulder, sleepily humming.
Jimin sat beside them both, chin in hand.
“You guys ever wish school never ended?” Jungkook mumbled.
Taehyung blinked. “Sometimes.”
Jimin rolled his eyes. “Only if we get snacks all day.”
Jungkook grinned. “And Taehyung brings crayons.”
“And I get the gold one,” Jimin added.
Taehyung looked at him.
Then—slowly—opened the box and handed it over.
The gold crayon.
Jimin took it.
Their fingers brushed.
It was nothing.
It was everything.
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