Chapter Text
“Bottom line is, I need you to be her father.”
Namjoon remembers stilling in his seat, his head tilted in confusion because he’s not sure if he just heard the man right. Surely, Kim Seokjin, one of the highest paid and renowned actors from South Korea, did not just say that Namjoon needed to be someone’s father. Namjoon’s sure as hell not the actor around here.
“I’m sorry—what?” Namjoon balks, completely stunned. “S-sir Kim, I thought you just wanted a nanny and an undercover bodyguard?”
To begin with, Namjoon would have never thought that this man right here would even be the person behind this whole ordeal in the first place. After three screening interviews Namjoon did with random nobodies just to land on this final one with the actual employer himself, Namjoon never expected to meet one of the most influential and popular public figures in not just Korea, but of the whole world.
Back then, Namjoon remembers the Kim Seokjin sighing from where he sat across from the applicant. “Look, Namjoon-ssi, I’m not going to lie to you. The world doesn’t know that I have a daughter, and they can’t know that I do have one. Jihyo’s safety would be compromised, and my agency—they’re going to file a case against me because that was one of my terms. I never even knew that I got an omega pregnant, but she’s here, three years after she’s born, and I will protect my daughter even if it’s from myself and my own world.”
Seokjin says seriously, and Namjoon patiently listens, giving the man the benefit of the doubt.
“The only way I can do that is, of course, by keeping her a secret. I don’t want to do this, but my career can’t be compromised and yet I will never let any sort of harm come Jihyo’s way.” He explains, looking appropriately scorned, but Namjoon barely bites back a scoff. What kind of father thinks about his career first before his own child? “So that’s why I hired someone to find me a babysitter who can also double as her personal bodyguard. According to your resumé, you have a history working for bodyguard agencies, right?”
Namjoon keeps his face collected. “I do.”
“Right,” Seokjin nods. “And that’s good, because that’s exactly who I’ll need for her. Someone who can care for her and protect her at the same time. But Namjoon-ssi, keeping her identity hidden for now is absolutely crucial, and she’s going to start school soon. I worry that if my name would be written down as her father, the media might find out about this—find her—and put Jihyo in a very dangerous situation.”
For what it’s worth, Seokjin genuinely looked distressed at the mere thought of anyone hurting his daughter. But it’s also painfully obvious that this handsome actor has a million things in his mind.
And it’s his career that takes centerstage.
“Sooo…” Namjoon begins to trail off. Wondering why this man had to go to such an extent, but then again, Namjoon remembers signing an NDA before he even stepped into Seokjin’s home office, stating very drastic consequences should he ever expose what he discovers today. “You don’t want your name to be in any of your daughter’s papers?”
Seokjin nods mournfully, looking away as if he was afraid of being judged. “I, uhm, I… I know that’s not really possible, so that’s why I’ll really need you, Namjoon-ssi. Because as a front, it’s going to be your name I’ll have to put into her records.”
Namjoon remembers being so appalled at that moment. But even more, he was—
“Although it’s just temporary and as a mere pretense, I still mean it in every sense of the word,” Seokjin looks at the most promising candidate out of the top three he has filtered out from the hundreds that applied in one of the highest paying babysitter jobs in the market. “Namjoon-ssi, I need you to be Jihyo’s father.”
—saddened.
Namjoon’s heart hurts for the little girl he ought to meet.
How can you even ask a stranger to be your daughter’s father? Namjoon hasn’t even met the girl. For goodness’ sake, this man doesn’t even know a single thing about Namjoon except for what was written on his papers based on the thorough background check Seokjin did on Namjoon. And even then, being a child’s father is no job that any person can simply apply for.
Much more if it was for his own child.
Namjoon tried not to let the crippling disappointment manifest itself as he stared at Korea’s golden face that more than half of the country admired—Namjoon included. There’s nothing noble about Seokjin’s actions. Granted that he was willing to pay 50 million won per month to whoever gets the job, and that Seokjin has thoroughly screened the applicants right from their preliminary interviews with his staff. For Namjoon, it’s all inconsequential. Very superficial.
All Seokjin’s efforts are in vain, because at the end of the day, he is passing off that single responsibility that his own daughter needs him for. Wealth, a penthouse, or her own personal playground right in their very own lot? No.
What this Jihyo girl needed was her dad, and Seokjin was in no way ready to be a father.
(Nor is he willing to give up what he has just yet in order to become a full on parent.)
“Sir, is, uhm…” Right off the bat, Namjoon knew he should have said no. This was a job that required more than its initial description. But besides the ridiculous pay, Namjoon’s heart feels for the child, and he… he foolishly doesn’t want her to be neglected—no child deserves to even be neglected in the first place—even though he is yet to meet her. “H-How are we going to proceed with this if I say yes?”
Seokjin takes the omega’s interest with a pleased smile.
“Of course there will be a trial, Namjoon-ssi. Perhaps for the next fifteen to thirty days, I’m going to see how well you work with Jihyo. All paid, of course. But then, if everything goes well, you two will start to live in the high rise apartment I have set up for her in another city right before her school year begins.”
Wait a minute—“In another city?!”
Seokjin once again avoids the man’s eyes as he clears his throat. “Yes. Like what I said, no one must know that I’m Jihyo’s father, and that means she can’t be seen living with me. Don’t worry, though, I’ll try to visit as often as I can. I won’t get rid of her, Namjoon-ssi. I just really need to keep her away from the public eye, and you know by now that even the ramen I buy creates gigantic waves in the media. What more when people find out that I have a child?”
Scratch that, Namjoon wasn’t just saddened for this little girl. He was absolutely, devastatingly heartbroken for her.
Namjoon knew that Seokjin had a notorious bachelor image that is his biggest selling point. He’s handsome, talented, single, and rich, even after almost twenty years in the industry. But goodness, despite everything the actor has accumulated, is it still not enough? How can he still put all that over his own fucking daughter?
Maybe it’s stupid. But it was at that very moment that Namjoon decided. Jihyo won’t have another person in her life that would basically shoo her away. The child, though Namjoon doesn’t know her yet, is innocent. She deserves to have someone.
Still, Namjoon decides to trek this agreement very carefully. “Sir, I, uh, I’ll review the contract and I’ll tell you my decision soon. Maybe give me another two to three days or so.”
Seokjin nods eagerly. “Of course, of course. Take all the time that you need. Go over the papers and if there’s something else you’ll need or a term you wanna add or remove, we can definitely discuss that. But if you do say yes, we can immediately begin your trial period with my daughter.”
Namjoon tries not to let his eyes twitch again. Seokjin was making it seem like his own child was nothing but a lab rat.
The applicant was ready to end his interview then and there, before Namjoon remembered a small detail he swore to himself that he’d inform his employer of right from the very start.
Not making the same mistake again.
“Mr. Kim, before I make any decision, I must have you know.” Namjoon tilts his jaw forward, almost in challenge. “Although I keep my subgender undisclosed in my official documents, I would just like you to know that I’m an omega, sir, and I hope that that wouldn't be a problem with you.”
Namjoon's tongue clicks, hating that he has to inform people of his subgender like it's a precautionary measure and not a simple state of biology. But then again, what happened in his last job can never happen again.
Thankfully, it seems like Seokjin still has an ounce of humanity within him. “I don’t see how it would be,” He shrugs nonchalantly. “I think it would even be better. Jihyo’s omega father left her at my doorstep all of a sudden, and the last contact we both have of him is when he signed off her full custody to me, so it would be good if Jihyo still had an omega figure to guide her through her life.”
With every more fact Namjoon comes to know about the mysterious child, the more determined he is to never let this poor angel live in a life full of abandonment. Not when he could help.
“Good.” Namjoon bows in acknowledgment, not gratitude. “Please expect my call soon, Mr. Kim. Thank you.”
That interview had been nearly eight months ago. Two days after that day, Namjoon responded back with an affirmative with a few tweaks to his contract. Within twenty four hours, he was then introduced to Seokjin’s only daughter.
The young girl back then was adorable, but too quiet—wary, even. She had every single thing any child could ever ask for. Toys, gadgets, a big spacious room with a large playpen. Her pink colored walls looked straight out of a child’s tasy, and her walk-in closet was filled with so many pretty dresses, accessories,and shoes—all designer too, like what the fuck does a three year old need Channel bracelets and Versace doll shoes for?
Oh, Seokjin gave her absolutely everything.
But right from the very first time Namjoon met her, what the omega immediately noticed was how dull Jihyo’s eyes were.
For a nearly four year old kid, the poor girl looked nothing like how children should be. Bubbly? Joyful? Smiling? No. Jihyo was withdrawn, aloof, and painfully shy. Almost as if she hasn’t had the chance to have a friend in ages.
Much more, a father.
The first week had been difficult and a little awkward. Introducing a potential father, and not just a mere babysitter, to a young toddler is no easy task. Namjoon remembers doing most of the talking, Jihyo barely giving him one-word responses then. But it was only ten days into their trial that something finally shifted.
Right before Namjoon bid his goodbye to the girl for the night, Jihyo surprisingly clutched the end of his shirt, forcing Namjoon to bend down to her height.
“You said swing f-fun, like the prince in the book!” Red-cheeked Jihyo chewed on her bottom lip, looking up at Namjoon with a pleading pout. “We go swing tomowwow?”
Namjoon’s heart melted. It was the first time Jihyo asked him for anything, and it wasn’t for another toy or another gaming console. No. All she wanted was to play. Like a regular child.
Not one isolated by her own dad.
“Oh okay, I’ll ask permission from your father about it,” Namjoon offers her his pinky. “But I promise I’ll convince him to let me take you to the playground, even if it’s just the one here in the apartment complex.”
Jihyo stares at Namjoon’s pinky in confusion. “What that?”
Namjoon chuckles. “This is a pinky promise, Hyo,” He says, guiding the girl to interlace their pinkies together. “This means that I will do everything I can to give you what you asked me for.”
Jihyo doesn’t look like she gets it fully. But in the ten days that Namjoon has been here, he has unequivocally garnered her fragile trust in his careful hands. A feat that not even Seokjin could rightfully have.
So she locks her pinky in, and at that moment, Namjoon swore that he would bend the world backwards if that’s what Jihyo wants. If that’s what she asks from him in a pinky promise.
“Okie, ba-bye, we go swing tomowwow, okay?”
That was nearly seven months ago. As of today, Jihyo is halfway through her first school year in preschool. It’s been half a year since she moved in with Namjoon at this ridiculously lavish apartment that had more rooms than the love her fathers has ever given her.
It’s also been six months since Jihyo started calling him—
“Appa!” She exclaimed, full blown glee painted on her face as she stared at her reflection in the mirror. “Woooooow! ‘Tis soooo pretty, appa, woah!”
Never in his twenty seven years of existence would Namjoon have ever thought that he would add the professional braider skill to his resumé, but here he was now, expertly tying the little girl’s milkmaid braids over the crown of her little head with a proud glint in his eyes.
“Oh why thank you, princess,” Namjoon grins elatedly. Fish tails, crown braid, headband, waterfall, or milkmaids? Yeah, Namjoon’s got that all mastered. “I’m glad you liked it!”
Jihyo giggles again, marveling at her hairstyle for the day with big shiny eyes. Namjoon listened to her intently as he fixed the ribbon tie of her uniform and kept babbling about how it looked like a crown as they rode the car and went to school. Jihyo, she’s… she looks and sounds so happy that Namjoon almost forgets the three gruesome hours he spent the day before practicing this specific type of braid over and over again on the wig he bought all those months ago.
The little princess always loved having her hair done. On her first day of school, Namjoon had been so dejected when she came home and asked him if he could do her hair, too, like all her other pretty classmates. Namjoon was so embarrassed that he immediately booked a trip to the mall with Jihyo and secretly bought a wig with the same hair length as hers, along with a whole mannequin head and different colors of hair elastics, clips, and other shit the sales lady tricked him into purchasing. Those things are exactly what Namjoon used as he followed through Cute Girls Hairstyles tutorials on YouTube, meticulously perfecting every step until he managed to execute the hairstyle to Jihyo’s tiny head.
It worked. The next day, Jihyo went to school with a big, beaming smile on her face even if Namjoon’s braids were still sloppy and kinda messy. Months after that, Jihyo never went to school with her hair looking half-assed, always the best, and Namjoon would sometimes even inspect her classmates’ head and see how he could one up that kid’s hairstyle by tomorrow.
Namjoon was passive-aggressive just like that.
“Okay, princess, have fun in school today, okay?” At this corner of the staircase leading to Jihyo’s preschool, Namjoon kneels down to meet her four year old height, brushing away the loose strands from her face that the YouTube tutorial said would supposedly frame her face. “I’ll see you in the afternoon. Enjoy your day and behave, okay, Jihyo-yah?”
“Okay, appaaaa!” As always, Jihyo gives Namjoon a big hug, rubbing their cheeks together with a cheeky grin. “Jihyo be good, appa see Jihyo later?”
Namjoon rubs his cheeks back against hers. Oh how he loves her so much. “Yes, I’ll wait for you, but promise me you’re gonna be good and have lots and lots of fun. Don’t be shy, okay? Listen to your teacher and don’t get into trouble.”
“No twouble! No twouble!” Jihyo promises, lips pursued in her attempt at being serious. It was so adorable that Namjoon found himself giggling.
Namjoon places a kiss on her forehead, before intertwining their hands together. “Come on, let’s go!” Hand-in-hand, these two walked inside the building, immediately finding Jihyo’s preschool teacher waiting for them by the third door on the right.
“Jihyo-yah, good morning, and woah, I love you hair, sweetie, you’re so pretty!” Jimin waves from where he stands, wearing a bright yellow cardigan and equally bright smile as he marvels at the pretty hairstyle Namjoon has done on his pretty little girl. Even from this far, Namjoon could hear the echoes of children’s squeals and laughter from inside the classroom. Jihyo was just on time. “How was your weekend, Jihyo-yah, anything fun happened?”
Jihyo thanks him in a giggle for his compliment and Namjoon subtly straightens his back because he’s the one who did Jihyo’s hair. “Morning, Teacher Mimi, thank you, and yes, yes! Jihyo and appa went aquarium last Satuwday, t’was sooo much fun!”
Jimin genuinely looks engrossed at the way Jihyo rambled about the surprise weekend she had with her appa, and Namjoon couldn’t help but smile fondly at her, especially when Jihyo told her handsome teacher about how Namjoon bought a crab plushie for her… and for himself.
“Wow, that’s so cool, tell me more about it later during lunch, alright? I wanna hear more about your aquarium adventure,” Jimin pats her head, careful not to ruin her gorgeous braids. “But for now, take your seat, okay? We’re gonna start soon so I need everyone in their places.”
Jihyo nods dutifully and with one last wave to Namjoon, she enters her classroom, immediately spotting her best friend, Sana, and the two of them taking their assigned seats together, side-by-side.
“Well, now that she’s in there, good morning, Namjoon-ssi, I’m glad you and Jihyo had a wonderful weekend.” Jimin, all of a sudden, turns a little brighter. Eyes twinkling as he regarded this parent with much more exuberance than any other guardian. “You look good this morning.”
But just like the first time Namjoon has met Jihyo’s teacher, the smile automatically falls from his face. Namjoon’s spine straightens, and his lips fall into a cryptic frown as he regards his princess’ teacher with a cordial bow. “Thank you, Jimin-ssi, and yes, my daughter and I did. I hope you had a great weekend, too.”
Despite being the recipient of such icy treatment for the past half a year, the brusqueness of the handsome father does nothing to deter Jimin’s Monday morning spirit. “I did, I did. Me and my best friend checked out the Flower Festival over the next town, and we saw that new action movie that’s just up. It’s good, I’m sure you’ll like it, too.”
Namjoon tries not to let his jaw stiffen. He has no plans to watch that movie, especially since it’s the one starring a specific someone who hasn’t even thought of visiting his own child in the past month. “I’m sure it is.”
Jimin exhales deeply. Some might not understand why he’s so… adamant on forming a connection with one of his student’s parents when it seems like Namjoon could care any less about him.
But Jimin knew that that was far from the truth.
Because Namjoon did care, in his own peculiar ways. Jimin has no idea why the man was so aloof, but most of the time, he’d use Jihyo to show his thoughtful ways. Like that time Jimin celebrated his birthday. Sure, his students all gave them their own gifts during his small celebration with his little bundles of joy in the classroom, including Jihyo that is. But then, just before the day ended, Jihyo suddenly poked his sides, crouched over like she was hiding something behind her small back as she beckoned Jimin to bend down to her level.
It was then that Jihyo snitched on her father, saying, “Appa want give you this, too, Teacher Mimi, and he told me to give it with—with my gift, but everyone only carry one gift and Jihyo is shy to have two! But this from appa, please don’t tell appa Jihyo didn’t give it with my gift earlier. He said, don’t tell Teacher Mimi ‘tis from him.”
At that moment, Jimin kind of wanted to go back to his mother’s vagina and ask her to pop him out again, just so he can say that he’ll celebrate his birthday again tomorrow.
And maybe get Namjoon to actually give him his gift personally.
“Anyways,” Jimin cleared his throat, hearing the voice of his platonic soulmate calling him a gigantic weirdo again inside his head. For fuck’s sake, Namjoon could be married (not that Jimin has ever seen anyone with him, even Jihyo’s file only indicated one name), but he shouldn’t be daydreaming over his student’s father at eight in the morning. “I also want to inform you about a slight adjustment to our class.”
The taller man turns to him seriously. “Oh, what is it?”
“Well, it’s nothing too serious. Remember how I mentioned before that we’re gonna get some extra help around the second half of the year? Well, we have a new assistant teacher and he’s… he’s supposed to be here by now but the principal held him up, so I’ll have him meet everyone’s parents and guardians later at dismissal.” Jimin explains like how he’s been informing every parent or guardian that dropped by their kid this morning. “He’s gonna be joining me for our class from now on. You have nothing to worry about him, though, I’ve known the boy since I was in college. He is an excellent teacher, and he’s very good with arts and music so I really need to have him around now that we’re surpassing half the school year and we’re gonna be more tactile in class.”
Namjoon nods understandingly, mentally skimming through the curriculum and lesson plan the school has provided the parents during the start of the year, one that Namjoon meticulously remembered from the start. Ah, that’s right, the kids were going to start to learn to play instruments and to dance now, as opposed to mostly drawings and paintings in the earlier half. Since Jihyo’s school was ridiculously expensive, promising only the finest teachers and quality education to the young children of the most affluent members of Seoul’s society, Namjoon has absolutely no qualms about the new teacher.
“That’s okay, Jimin-ssi, I know Jihyo will be in good hands.” Namjoon says confidently. He might be a little cold, but he’s no asshole. He has high respect for these people. “I’ll definitely meet him this afternoon, too. Thank you, though, for telling me.”
“Of course, of course, I’m sure you’d like him, too, Namjoon-ssi,” Then, Jimin smirks. No, he smiles. No, wait, he looks a little mischievous. That’s definitely a smirk. “Although, maybe not as much as you would like me.”
Ah, he’s definitely teasing, then.
“We’ll see, shall we?” The corner of Namjoon’s lips tilt upward, very minisculely. Almost unnoticeable but it was enough to have Jimin’s soul soaring to the heavens. “I haven’t met the newbie yet.”
For the love of god, Jimin himself can never explain why he’s so… drawn to this person. He didn’t even know if Namjoon was an alpha, beta, or omega—he had a feeling that Namjoon was an alpha just like him—but Jimin just can’t explain why he’s so enamored by this gorgeous spectacle of a human being.
Maybe it’s because Namjoon makes him curious. All the other parents are oversharers, telling Jimin such exaggerated stories to boost their child and family’s image, but not Namjoon and Jihyo. They were both so quiet, always so distant like they’re hiding something big.
All Jimin knows is that Namjoon is Jihyo’s kind, devoted, caring, patient, and loving father, and that’s it.
“Don’t worry, Namjoon-ssi,” Jimin grins, seeing another parent and student of his approaching just in time for Namjoon to wave goodbye. “I’ll be sure to tell him to make a good impression.”
With that, Namjoon bows to Jimin in farewell, giving him another tight smile, willing his own heartbeat to sit its ass back down because god, it’s been six months and this alpha still manages to make him go crazy with just his wicked eyes.
Namjoon knows, alright? He’s not stupid. He knows that Jimin is not so subtly sashaying his way into Namjoon’s life as more than Jihyo’s teacher. But, Namjoon can’t, at least not right now. Not while Jimin’s still Jihyo’s teacher, and not while… not while Namjoon still has his whole focus, attention, and time on his supposed ‘daughter’.
Jihyo might not come from him, but Namjoon has loved his little princess more than her actual parents ever did. He has given her everything, treated her like she was his actual child. Namjoon knew that this was a dangerous game that he was playing, but for Jihyo, he was willing to bet all his cards in. Win or lose.
(And not for the first time did Namjoon ever wonder how he’ll ever find the courage to leave this job when the rightful time comes.)
Just the thought of saying goodbye to Jihyo—leaving her like how her real omega father signed off his rights to Seokjin when the opportunity to model abroad came—broke Namjoon’s heart to no end. He simply couldn’t do that to his child, no.
Namjoon refuses to make Jihyo go through another painful goodbye all over again.
Namjoon sits in the quiet corner as he hears the school bell ring.
All around him, a lot of trophy parents were chattering amongst themselves, all carrying designer bags, competing on whose heels would click the loudest. Some of them, Namjoon couldn’t help but muse, look like they were going to fashion shows instead of a pre-school, but for the past six months Namjoon has been coming in and out of this institution, he’s gotten quite used to their flamboyant styles.
They also know better now than to speak to Namjoon, knowing full well that they won’t be able to get anything more than one-word clipped answers from him. And that’s fine, Namjoon really didn’t like chatting with all the other parents who gossiped harder than actual bees. If anything, Namjoon just feels impatient and a little awkward. Soon enough, though, a certain little angel puts him out of his misery.
“Appaaaaaaaaa!”
Namjoon beams hard. God, he’s so whipped for his daughter. A bright smile showcasing his dimples immediately paints its way to his lips the moment he sees a small but strong figure barrelling her way into his arms.
“Jihyo-yaaaaah!” Namjoon hugs her tight, as if the last time he saw her was two lifetimes ago. “Hey, angel, how was your day? Did you have fun?”
Jihyo nods against the man’s chest. “Yes, yes!” She beams excitedly. “Teacher Mimi teach us new game today with bwicks with all pwetty colors, and Jihyo made huuuuuge mess when bwicks fell but t’was sooooo fun! Jihyo like new game!”
It’s astounding for Namjoon how Jihyo progressed from that quiet and distant child six months ago to this young girl that’s just bursting with energy right from her very seams. Jihyo is just so happy and bright these days, and Namjoon couldn’t help but mirror her enthusiasm.
“That’s amazing, baby, I’m so glad you had fun.”
“Mhmm,” Jihyo grins brightly. “We also have new teacher! We met Teacher Kookie!”
Being reminded of that supposed new teacher Namjoon hadn’t had the chance to meet this morning, his back straightens up. He looks up to see Jimin already walking his way to them, “Oh, I think I have to meet him too. Jimin-ssi, hi, is the assistant teacher around now?”
Jimin bows in greeting at the dimpled man. “You’re right on time, Namjoon-ssi. Jungkook-ssi is right over there.”
It took Namjoon a while for the new teacher’s name to register, barely making a direct connection. But when he turns around to look at where Jimin was pointing by the door, Namjoon visibly staggers from where he stands.
He’d know those eyes from miles away.
Jungkook-ssi isn’t aware yet of Namjoon’s presence, happily chatting with another parent who was just saying goodbye. Namjoon takes those few seconds to take him in, both how different he was from that boy he last saw, what, two years ago, and how nothing much has also changed about him.
For one, Jungkook looked more… relaxed. Given the formidable nature of their work back then, and how much tension and risk was always at stake, Namjoon could bet that working with children is a hundred times much more laid back than their previous job. Jungkook’s eyes looked lighter, his smile more prominent. He looks every inch of the young protegé that Namjoon wished he once had the time to enjoy.
But Jungkook is also donning a long sleeve shirt, and Namjoon is certain that underneath that plain dark gray cloth is the lines of ink that he remembers being so at awe for. Namjoon would love to see them again right now, he remembers how proud Jungkook was of his body art that he himself has designed, but then again… things are different now.
They’re both surrounded by children, far from the battlefield that they once called their job.
Jungkook finally looks at their direction upon Jimin’s soft call for his name, and the way his face morphs into shock is almost comedic, if only Namjoon didn’t mimic his reaction. The omega’s breathing ceases in his lungs, cheeks turning pale as Jungkook’s Bambi eyes widen even further at the sight of one—“N-Namjoon hyung?”
Jimin startles from his spot. “Jungkook-ah, you know Namjoon-ssi?”
It takes Jungkook a few seconds to even respond to his co-teacher’s question, barely making sense of the whole ordeal. But what doesn’t take long is for Jungkook’s face to suddenly shut off, to turn achingly professional in one blink of an eye. There was a time that Jungkook used to leave all the work about being a professional to Namjoon.
When they needed to talk to clients or other VIPs, Jungkook usually left the task of looking stoic to Namjoon alone. After all, his hyung was much more adept at that than him. One look at Jungkook’s innocent doe eyes—no matter how bloody their work was—was always such an easy give away about him and his softer nature.
Now, though, Namjoon thinks that Jungkook has mastered it well.
“I—” The new teacher clears his throat. His smile turned into something cold, almost ingenuine. “We, I, uhm. I was once acquainted with Namjoon hyu—Namjoon-ssi from my previous job. We’ve worked together before, Jiminie hyung.”
Aware of the sudden tension that blossomed between the pair, Jimin’s eyes bounced back and forth from Jungkook’s taut gaze and Namjoon’s mildly chastised eyes. “I—I see. I see you know Jungkook, Namjoon-ssi. So I guess there’s no need to introduce you both.”
Namjoon finally looks aways, eyes falling down to his child who’s now happily chatting with her best friend right beside them. Namjoon is thankful that Sana is able to temporarily catch his daughter’s attention, the omega would hate for her to see him this… flustered.
“Yes, I uhm. I had no idea that—that he’s a teacher now. But I-I have no worries, Jimin-ssi. I’m sure I can trust Jungkook-ssi w-with Jihyo.”
At the mention of the child, Jungkook’s eyes snap to Jihyo, his eyes hardening while simultaneously turning confused. “Namjoon-ssi, Jihyo is your daughter, right?”
Don’t look into his eyes. Don’t look into his eyes. “Yes, she’s uh, she’s m-my child.”
There’s nothing but skepticism coloring Jungkook’s eyes. Namjoon knows for certain that one look at him and Jungkook would know that he’s lying. The omega doesn’t know how much Jungkook found out after he left, but the young alpha teacher must have already been mentally calculating how the hell Namjoon would have fathered a child four years ago, when they both were still colleagues.
Did I really mean nothing to hyung?
“Well then, of course. I’m thankful that you trust me with her, Namjoon-ssi.” Jungkook clears his throat, smiling softly at both Sana and Jihyo’s direction when they both waved at him in the midst of their conversation. “I can assure you that I will be a good teacher to her, and that I will take good care of Jihyo while she’s in this school. I promise as much, Namjoon-ssi.”
Namjoon has no doubt about that. Once upon a time, Namjoon first handedly saw how fiercely protective Jungkook was of the people he cared about. It’s completely different to the way his eyes looked at the omega two minutes ago—how uncaring it was. But, Namjoon has faith.
“Thank you, Jungkook-ssi. Thank you too, Jimin-ssi.” Namjoon can’t take this anymore. “If that is all, Jihyo,” He looks at his child, gently petting her braided hair to get her attention. “I think it’s time for us to go home. Say bye-bye to Sana, and say goodbye to your teachers now.”
The girls pout a bit at having been separated, but all it takes is for Namjoon to remind them that besides the fact that they’ll see each other again tomorrow, Sana is also sleeping over at their house Friday night, and the girls part with a kiss to each other’s cheeks.
Then, the young girl turns to her teachers, bowing deeply. “Goodbye, Teacher Mimi. Goodbye, Teacher Kookie.”
The two teachers’ eyes light in fondness. “Bye, Jihyo.” They both say, and Namjoon takes that moment to bow to them as well, still avoiding Jungkook’s gaze.
“Bye, Jimin-ssi. Bye, Jungkook-ah. I, uh, I’ll see you all again tomorrow.”
Jimin nods at him in farewell, offering the omega a soft smile. Jungkook, however, only nods once, before he turns around to face another parent as Namjoon and Jihyo walk away. A part of Namjoon wanted to pull Jungkook aside, to explain everything that’s happened since he left. But… But he figured now is not the time. Jungkook looked like he hated him, he didn’t even look at the omega again when he turned back one last time, and Namjoon doesn’t know how to deal with that.
So he left, ran away just like how he did two years ago.
Namjoon didn’t have to know how Jungkook’s saddened eyes trailed after them even until both him and his daughter finally rode their car.