Jungkook sighed. Fourth grade wasn't fun. Actually, none of the grades had been fun. Not even preschool, after Jimin disappeared. Namjoon had transferred them to a different school because he hadn't been able to stand the sight of the old one, and because he was new, Jungkook hadn't known anyone. But even when he had no one to play with, Tae refused to play with him.

Even now, when they were both in the same fourth grade class, Tae wouldn't play with him. They went to school together and left school together, but when he didn't have to spend time with Jungkook, Tae generally didn't. At home was a somewhat different story, since Tae wasn't faced with the reminder of school, which was where Jimin had gone missing, but their relationship had never healed.

Jungkook was pretty sure that Tae blamed him for Jimin's disappearance.

Jungkook blamed himself too, but Tae hadn't even bothered saying it to Jungkook's face. He just looked at Jungkook with disappointment. Because he'd trusted Jungkook to watch Jimin for one day when he hadn't been there. Because he'd trusted Jungkook to protect Jimin. Because Jungkook had failed to do either, and now Jimin was still gone, only present in old pictures that Namjoon had turned face-down.

Jungkook stared at the math worksheet in front of him.

What's the point? None of this matters, anyway.

He didn't bother picking up a pencil but instead put his head on his desk, ready to take a nap.

Taehyung got up from his desk a few rows behind Jungkook and brought his worksheet to the front, handing it in.

He stopped by Jungkook's desk on the way back. "You should do your assignment," he said quietly.

Jungkook just snorted. "Don't think I don't see what you're trying to do."

"What am I trying to do?"

"You think that if you study hard and make yourself all smart and whatever, you'll be able to figure out what happened. Where he is. If he's still-"

"Just finish your worksheet," Tae said, cutting him off and walking back to his seat.

Jungkook just sighed. He didn't mean to antagonize Tae. He just felt bitter that Jimin, even in leaving, had ruined something for him. He'd used to be so close with Tae. Now they could barely be in the same room together.

***

Taehyung couldn't deny what Jungkook had said, even if Jungkook had been pissing him off lately. At school, he kept his head down and just did his own thing, but at home, Tae had to pretend that everything was okay for Namjoon. It was an agreement that they'd all decided upon: if they had problems, they would figure them out themselves. They didn't need to make Namjoon worry about any of them. Instead, they were supposed to pretend that everything was Gucci and they were all happy and they were still a perfect family, even if Namjoon still tucked in Jimin's bed at night. He'd finally learned how to do the corners. He'd had 5 years of practice, after all.

Tae was studying hard, still holding out hope, that if he couldn't find him, that he could at least figure out what had happened, could figure out where Jimin had been taken.

Could figure out who had taken him.

He knew that all the adults had already spent hours, days, weeks, months, years puzzling over it. He didn't know why he would prove to be any different.

But none of those adults were Jimin's brother.

Maybe Tae would see a different angle somehow. Maybe he would figure everything out with one clue. Maybe he could find Jimin.

He knew what the adults from the police station thought. He knew most of them by name at this point, so reading their minds wasn't altogether that hard. He knew that they weren't really looking for Jimin anymore.

They were looking for a body.

But Tae chose to believe that they were wrong. He would proceed with the assumption that Jimin was alive, waiting for Tae to find him and bring him home.

***

Hobi stared at the bag. "No."

Wonpil sighed. "Hobi, please. One bite. I'll do your math homework for you."

"No, I can't."

"I'll write out all your notes for you."

"It's not going to happen, Wonpil. Just give up already."

"I'll write your essay?"

"I'm not in the mood to throw up today, okay? You go ahead. Be my guest," Hobi said more harshly than intended, pushing the lunch bag away from him. "Sorry," he muttered.

Wonpil sighed but left the bag where it was. "I'm just trying to help."

Hobi nodded, pulling his hair down over his forehead so the fringes of the bangs were in his eyes. "I know, Wonpil."

Wonpil nodded, pursing his lips. "So, my mom said I could have a movie slash sleepover Friday night. Can you come?"

Hobi shrugged. "I guess." He hesitated. "But I have to ask my dad. He doesn't like us going out a lot. You know how he is."

Wonpil nodded belatedly. "Right, right. Well, you should come if he says yes. It'll be lots of fun. We're all going to-"

"We're? Who's the we?"

"Well, me and you, of course. And I invited a few other people but-"

Hobi stood up. "I'm sorry, I can't go," he mumbled, and Wonpil frowned.

"Why not?"

Hobi shrugged. "I'm not friends with whoever else you invited, why would I go?"

"How do you know you're not friends with them?"

"Because I have one friend, and he's badgering me right now about a sleepover," Hobi said, giving Wonpil a pointed look. "Have fun with your friends. Just don't expect me to be there."

"Hobi, you can't be like this forever."

"What, a loner?"

"Just- closed-off. Everybody would like you if you would just let them," Wonpil said. He'd really been struggling to stay friends with Hobi. Hobi was like a blizzard: he wouldn't let you get too close, always pushing you away, and if you still tried to hang on, he'd hurt you in small ways, cutting you with chips of ice. But Wonpil didn't mind that much. He understood Hobi more than anyone else did, and he knew that if he ever let go, Hobi would have no one. He would be completely isolated and would get even worse. Wonpil wasn't planning on ever letting go. "Come Friday night? Please?"

Hobi sighed. He knew that he was constantly hurting Wonpil, but he couldn't help it. The warmth that he'd once felt was gone. The closest he got to being his old self was when he was faking it for Namjoon, but that hurt even more. Pretending to be happy. Pretending to be okay. Pretending that he was hungry.

Before Jimin had gone missing, Hobi had actually started eating lunch again. Not a lot, but Wonpil had been helping him.

But he could barely stomach anything after Jimin had been abducted. Still couldn't.

"Look, it's not just me being antisocial, all right? My dad doesn't like it when we hang out with people he doesn't know. He doesn't trust them." Hobi looked down, swallowing as he felt his eyes prickle somewhat, but he squeezed his eyes shut hard for a second before opening them, and the prickling feeling was gone.

"Yeah, I get it," Wonpil said. He'd been to Hobi's house a couple of times, so he knew what Namjoon was like. "All right. No worries. But let me know if you want to come. I'll kick everyone else out if you want me to, okay? Just you and me." He smiled brightly at Hobi, hoping that Hobi would let just a little of Wonpil's warmth seep into him.

Hobi hesitated before smiling back. It wasn't his old, confident smile. It was a shy, hesitant smile. A reluctant smile. A regretful smile, like he felt guilty that he was even allowed to smile at all. "All right. I'll let you know," he said, but he didn't want to ruin Wonpil's sleepover. He knew that the other kids would be mad if Wonpil kicked them out, but Hobi didn't like hanging out with anyone but Wonpil, and he knew that if he went, everybody else would monopolize Wonpil's attention.

I just won't go, he thought to himself even as he smiled at Wonpil. It'll be fine.

I'm fine.

***

Yoongi kicked his shoe against the desk, listening to the metallic ring, a ring he knew all too well.

The door clicked open behind him. "Kim Yoongi. You're in here again, I see."

"It would appear so," Yoongi answered off-handedly.

The principal sighed as he walked around Yoongi to sit at the desk. "The secretary said you did- what exactly was it?"

"You tell me."

"Yoongi, enough of your attitude. Did you really kill the class goldfish?"

"The ME's confirmed that Mr. Bubbles unfortunate death was a suicide, not a homicide," Yoongi said blankly. "Get the report from the medical examiner's office. Can I go now?"

"Did you kill the fish?"

Yoongi tilted his head slightly, pissed. "No. If anything, I liked Mr. Bubbles. We got along rather well. Although I did all the talking in that relationship for obvious reasons."

"Yoongi! This is a serious accusation! I don't want to have to punish you, but you're not exactly giving me a choice."

"And you're not listening to me," Yoongi snapped. "I didn't bloody do it."

"A bit hard to believe when you're down here every Friday."

"Are you saying that this isn't my study hall?" Yoongi said, mock-surprised as he pretended to scan the principal's office. "Always wondered why there wasn't a whiteboard."

"Why did you kill the fish, Yoongi?"

"I didn't kill any stupid fish," Yoongi said, clenching his teeth. "Look at whoever the idiot was who accused me. I bet it was that kid with the glasses who sits in the front row. He's got it out for me since I did better on the last test than he did."

"How do you know what he got on the test?"

"Because he was boasting about it to the whole class that he got a 96% when everybody else got a B, only I got a 98 and he was pissed."

"Language."

"He was thoroughly upset due to my superior test score, thus exacerbating his mood."

"Kim Yoongi! I've had just about enough of your attitude this school year!"

"What are you going to do, give me another detention? Fine, hand over the slip already."

"Do you want me to call your father?"

Yoongi froze before glaring at the principal. "Don't you dare do it."

"If you don't get your attitude in check, I most certainly will."

Yoongi forced himself to breathe in through his nose. "Don't."

"Don't what?"

"Don't please."

"I believe you owe me an apology."

"For what?"

"What's your dad's number again? 1-8-0-0-" the principal began, picking up the phone and punching numbers in.

"I'm sorry for disrespecting you and speaking inappropriately," Yoongi said, watching in relief as the principal set the phone down.

"That's better. Now, about killing the fish-"

"I said I didn't do it!"

The principal picked the phone back up.

Yoongi exhaled sharply. "Fine, whatever." He looked away, crossing his arms and biting down on his tongue. "I killed the stupid fish, happy?"

"That's what I thought. You have cleaning duty and detention all next week."

Yoongi didn't mind about the detention since it had already happened so much that he had just told Namjoon that he was in a club after school every day that ran an extra hour.

"You may leave my office now."

Yoongi got up and left, pissed.

"Didn't he say he didn't do it?" the secretary asked the principal as he came out of his office.

"He's a pathological liar. He's in here every week for something. Trust me, he did it."

The secretary frowned but went back to work.

***

Not only was Jin The Kid Who Never Talks To Anyone, but he had also become The Kid Whose Brother Went Missing.

Which made more people talk about him but not to him.

So Jin started talking to Jimin.

Just when nobody was around, though. He'd made sure he was alone, and then he would just talk.

"It's Tuesday, Jimin. You know what that means. They're probably serving chicken in the cafeteria today. No, I don't eat the chicken. It tastes weird. Besides, I make it better, right?" Jin laughed. "I know! Theirs looks like the chicken died last year," he said, fake-gagging as he worked on his essay. "It's seriously gross. No, not even ketchup would help it. Nice try." Jin rolled his eyes. "What was that? No, I don't think-"

Jin cut off as the door opened and someone else came into class, sitting down at a desk.

Jin sighed, disappointed that his time with Jimin had been cut short, but it was okay. He would talk to Jimin later. Whenever he was alone.

***

Namjoon didn't know how he'd managed to keep his job considering that his attendance was spotty at best, but Mark and Shownu had been kind over the past few years to cover some of his shifts, and PD-nim had known about what Namjoon had been - and still was - going through. They all cut him slack, and if Namjoon was dialed into reality, he would be grateful.

He knew his kids were struggling.

He knew, but he just couldn't find a way to fix everything.

He was missing his baby boy.

He was missing part of his heart.

And he would never be whole without him.

And Namjoon knew that it was screwed up, but he couldn't imagine his baby growing up without him. He had seen the 9-year-old sketch, but he couldn't stare at it for more than a second. In his mind, his baby had been immortalized at the age of 4, and he would always be 4 until Namjoon got him back.