The summer sun was a persistent golden haze over their small neighborhood, baking the asphalt until it shimmered and warming the swing set in Mrs. Kim's backyard to a pleasant sizzle. Seven-year-old Taehyung, with his perpetually messy hair and boundless energy, was convinced he could touch the sky if he just kicked hard enough. His laughter, bright and unrestrained, floated through the humid air, a pure, joyful sound that Jungkook lived for.
Below him, perched diligently on the ground, was Jungkook. A year younger, with eyes that seemed too big and earnest for his small face, he wasn't interested in reaching the clouds. He was meticulously arranging a collection of shiny pebbles into a constellation, a little hum rumbling in his chest. But every few seconds, his gaze would drift upwards, tracking Taehyung's wild arcs, a soft, almost imperceptible smile playing on his lips whenever Taehyung giggled. That warmth in his chest, that was for Taehyung. Only Taehyung.
"Jungkookie! Faster! Push me higher!" Taehyung yelled, his voice a little breathless, his legs pumping with furious glee.
Jungkook immediately scrambled up, his pebble-constellation momentarily forgotten. He wrapped his small hands around the cold chains, pushing with all his might, his brow furrowed in concentration. "Higher, hyung?" he puffed, his cheeks slightly flushed from the effort, a happy exhaustion already settling in.
"Yeah! The highest! Like we're flying!" Taehyung cheered, kicking his feet even harder, his head thrown back, hair flying.
For Jungkook, watching Taehyung "fly" was almost as good as flying himself. There was a warmth that bloomed in his chest, a comforting, secure feeling he only ever experienced when Taehyung was near. Taehyung was a whirlwind of ideas, of playful mischief, of sudden, genuine kindness that made Jungkook feel seen. He was like the brightest, most captivating star in Jungkook's small universe, and Jungkook just wanted to orbit him, close enough to feel his warmth, close enough to bask in his light.
Their days were a blur of invented games, whispered secrets, and shared adventures. They built elaborate forts in the overgrown patch behind the houses, convinced monsters lived in the shadows that only they could defeat. They raced bikes down the sloping street, knees scraped and spirits soaring, the wind rushing through their hair like a freedom song. But their favorite place, their true sanctuary, was under the sprawling oak tree at the edge of the park. It was their designated "secret spot," where they'd carve their initials (a wonky 'T' next to an uneven 'JK') into the bark and swap their most prized possessions – a chipped superhero figure for a particularly smooth, flat skipping stone.
One sweltering afternoon, they lay side-by-side on the cool grass under the oak tree, sharing a melting grape popsicle. The sticky sweetness dribbled down Taehyung's chin, leaving a purple trail. Jungkook instinctively reached out, his thumb gently wiping it away, his fingers brushing soft skin.
Taehyung giggled, then turned his head, his wide, innocent eyes meeting Jungkook's. The afternoon sun dappled through the leaves, casting dancing shadows on Taehyung's face. "Jungkookie," Taehyung whispered, his voice suddenly serious, full of the gravitas only a seven-year-old could manage. "You're my bestest friend in the whole wide world. Promise we'll be friends forever?"
Jungkook's heart did a funny little flutter, a butterfly trapped behind his ribs. Forever. The word felt big and important, heavier than any promise he'd ever made. It felt right. He nodded fiercely, unable to articulate the tsunami of feeling that word stirred in him. It was more than just "friends." It was... everything. "Promise, hyung. Forever and ever." He squeezed Taehyung's sticky hand, a silent, profound vow echoing between them, understood perfectly without a single extra word.
He remembered that moment vividly, even years later. The sticky hand, the earnest promise under their oak tree, the way Taehyung's eyes had sparkled. He knew, even then, that Taehyung was different. Special. And even at seven years old, Jungkook harbored a secret, innocent wish that was far too big for his small body: to keep Taehyung safe, happy, and close, forever and ever. He just didn't have the words for it yet. But he felt it, deep down, a quiet, foundational truth that would define him.
He had no idea how quickly their "forever" was about to be tested.