It was nearing August now. Before long, summer vacation would be over, and students would have to put aside their summer activities and get back into a school mood. Yoongi groaned inwardly merely at the thought of it. He had been quite enjoying these past couple of months, whether he was lazing around the house doing nothing in particular, or on those occasional days when he would venture outdoors for one reason or another.

On July 28th, Yoongi woke up shortly after nine o'clock, checked and replied to his text messages, then went to get breakfast--as became his typical morning routine. And Yoongi would usually scroll nonchalantly through his social media feed, not having much else to do as he ate. However this morning he received a call. People hardly ever called him. Setting aside his toaster strudel, Yoongi answered his phone.

"What do you want, Joon?"

Namjoon scoffed. "Gee, is that how you greet your best friend?" He said, sounding mildly offended by Yoongi's tone.

"That's how I always greet you."

"...true, I guess."

"So what did you want? You usually text. You know I don't like talking on the phone."

Namjoon hummed softly. "I know," he replied after a short while. "I just felt like calling. Well, I mean I had a reason, but you know-"

"Spit it out already."

"I was going to ask if you wanted to play basketball, Yoongs."

The mint-haired boy looked into his phone, as if his friend would be able to sense his expression of puzzlement that way. "Why, all of a sudden?"

"Oh, I don't know," Namjoon chuckled, "just in the mood for it, I suppose-"

"You have a reason, quit playing with me."

The blond was quiet for a moment, soon to release a heavy, thoughtful sigh that only furthered Yoongi's confusion.

"There's something I wanted to talk to you about, Yoongs. Something really important."

Yoongi hesitated. "Are...you sick or something?"

"What? No. Just-...are you coming or not?"

"Yeah...yeah, I'm coming. When and where?"

"Noon, at the park nearest to your house. The one we used to play at when we were in middle school. Is that okay?"

"That's fine, Joon."

"Alright, great...I'll see you then, Yoongs. Bye."

"See ya."

--------

By the time Yoongi arrived at the park--it was a little after noon but he didn't think it was that big a deal--Namjoon had been waiting for almost half an hour. He was shooting baskets when the mint-haired boy found him.

"Hey."

Namjoon spun around at the sound of a familiar voice, which caused him to undershoot a basket. Yoongi laughed in spite of him.

"You're late," he said. His friend shrugged.

"By like, two minutes."

"I know, I know. I was only kidding, anyway." Walking over to the net where the basketball had rolled, Namjoon picked it up and tossed it to Yoongi, then smirked. "C'mon, Yoongs. Like old times."

Suddenly experiencing a rush of nostalgia, Yoongi returned Namjoon's smirk with an equally determined one. Then he began to slowly dribble the ball, eyes locked on the boy several yards in front of him, mind solely focused on this friendly little rivalry of theirs and completely disregarding Namjoon's main reason for calling him out here. Although right now, that didn't seem to matter to Namjoon, either. He was just as enveloped in this moment as Yoongi. Often times in their youth, the boys' relationship had rooted and deepened over games like this, on days like these, sweet summer days when most people were on vacations or at the beach, so they had the park to themselves. The two truly had grown up together. Almost like true brothers, though they saw each other as so much more. From the first day they had met in first grade, their personalities mixed. They blended so well, as strange and surprising as that seemed to many. But there was no denying it. Namjoon always did see something special in Yoongi's eyes, and the fire inside them that was hidden beneath layers and layers of self doubt and fear intrigued him. Even as a child. Namjoon had wanted to get close to the mint-haired boy before anyone else could--well, he didn't have mint-colored hair back then. Jet black. During the summer of their third year of middle school, however, Namjoon casually made a comment that he thought Yoongi seemed like the type who would look cool with dyed hair, especially something different, like silver or mint green. One week later, he discovered his friend had gotten his hair dyed. Mint green. If he were to put it into words, Namjoon would say that it was the moment he realized Yoongi truly valued him. Perhaps more than anyone else. Perhaps more than anything else. And he was right. That was exactly what Yoongi thought of him.

At times when he was alone with this thoughts, Yoongi used to wonder what his life would be like without Namjoon. He wondered how he would fare in this terrifying world without that boy by his side, without that boy who never neglected him and who always noticed the little things Yoongi overlooked about himself. Namjoon was a guardian to him. A guardian who he got along with well and with whom he talked about his insecurities and interests alike. He was everything Yoongi looked for in a friend. He gave Yoongi all the attention a person could possibly need, but without being clingy to the point of suffocating him. Perfect, in his own way. He was the reason Yoongi never pushed himself out of his comfort zone. He was the reason Yoongi went years without talking to any of his other classmates, the reason Yoongi never, ever tried to make other friends. Because what was the point? He asked himself. He had Namjoon.

And the thought of ever losing Namjoon pained Yoongi beyond belief.

"You're not nearly as good at this as you used to be, Joon."

"Oh, hush you. It's been a while, gimme a break."

They played one-on-one for quite a while, both losing track of the time, as the afternoon started slipping by their carefree minds. Eventually, they both came to an unspoken consensus that it was time to take a break. So the two made their way over to a bench just outside the basketball court and sat down. Namjoon's backpack was already there. He opened it the right after sitting next to it, then pulled out a water bottle and handed it to Yoongi.

"Thanks."

The blond took out another one for himself and downed half of it in less than ten seconds. After that, a comfortable silence fell into place and lasted for several minutes. Until Yoongi recalled his friend's words from this morning. He spoke first.

"You wanted to talk to me about something?"

"Mm." Namjoon tapped his fingers against the bottle in his hands. "I did."

"You said it was important."

"It is."

"Then out with it already."

"I would, but I'm a little tentative to be so straightforward with this," the blond admitted, shaking his head. "You're not a fan of new things, after all..."

"What are you even talking about?"

"Can I ask you a question, Yoongi?"

The mint-haired boy narrowed his eyes at Namjoon. He waited a little bit. "Go ahead."

"You're in love with Jimin, aren't you, Yoongi?"

A bullet to the chest--that's what it felt like to him. Words like hard metal, striking the cords of denial. But it happened so quickly he didn't realize.

"I'm not," he said almost straightaway. Namjoon released a heavy sigh and hung his head.

"You see, I knew you would say that..."

"What?"

"Look, I already knew the answer to my question before coming here. I just wanted to hear you say it for yourself, Yoongs."

Confidence. There was such distinct confidence and assurance in Namjoon's voice, so much that it frightened Yoongi.

"You're being ridiculous, Joon." He clenched his fists. "And I thought you were being serious when you said you had something important to talk about-"

"Yoongs, this is important."

Namjoon had seized his wrist now. His gaze commanded attention.

"You'll never get me to say anything," Yoongi said, but his voice shook with uncertainty. He didn't like how he was feeling right now. And he definitely didn't like the way Namjoon was acting.

"Why is that? Why won't you say anything?"

"I won't lie to you."

"You wouldn't be lying if you admitted it, Yoongs. And that's all I want you to do."

Yoongi stared at him in harsh belief. He struggled to swallow his breath. "Why?"

"Because if I don't get you to admit it to yourself, you'll go your entire life without saying it. And I don't want my best friend to make that mistake. Because it would be my fault."

He couldn't find the right words to say. Temporarily, his mind completely froze up, his tongue was caught and his mouth sealed up. He hadn't expected this at all. He didn't come out of his house to have Namjoon make him reevaluate his life.

"I know you more than anyone, Yoongs." The blond squeezed his friend's wrist. "I know how reluctant you are to...accept new things, and I know I'm partially to blame for it. I let you stay in your bubble...for too long, 'cause I thought I was helping you. It's my fault it took so long for you to find other friends, it's my fault it took so long for you to be comfortable around people other than me, and it's my fault it's taken this long...for you to fall in love-"

"You're wrong."

Namjoon watched with a troubled expression as Yoongi weakly attempted to break free of his grasp. The mint-haired boy's face was coated in distress--clear-cut distress that was such a painful sight for Namjoon's eyes to take in.

"I'm not in love, I could never fall in love," he said in a shaky whisper. "I...I wouldn't. I don't need Jimin, Joon, I just need you-"

"That's just the thing, Yoongs. You don't need me anymore."

"Don't say that to me. Don't you ever say that to me."

"Yoongs, I don't mean it in a bad way." Namjoon tried softening his gaze, but it didn't seem to be helping at all. "You...you don't need to sound so scared, okay? It's not like we're suddenly not best friends anymore...all I'm saying is that....well, you don't need me to be by your side in order to be happy. Jimin makes you happy. I know he does. And in a way that I could never do for you. Don't you see? It's a good thing, Yoongs. I...trust Jimin with you as much as I trust you with myself. That means something, right? I mean, surely by now you know how protective I am of you. So it must mean something."

It wasn't comforting. Regardless of that being Namjoon's intention, his words only deepened the roots of Yoongi's distress, Yoongi's hopeless puzzlement at the slight possibility of this all being true. He didn't want to believe it. Every fiber of his being denied it with great intensity to the point where Yoongi felt his heart was burning. And his mind. His mind ached. He wanted it to stop. So badly, he just wanted to rewind the day to the phone call, and there he would politely say to his friend, 'Sorry, I don't really feel like playing basketball today.'

But since he couldn't turn back the clock, he did what he could do. He ran. After finally breaking out of Namjoon's tight grip, Yoongi ran without turning back.