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Chapter 4: The Ties that Bind – September 9, 2019

Jimin approached Monday’s class differently than the last two.  He was finding it hard to dislike Jumi now that she had praised his song.  He felt oddly nervous.  Was it because of the words he’d allowed to flow out of him onto that piece of paper she’d be handing in today?

But he needn’t have been nervous.  Because she didn’t appear in class that morning.  When it had come to an end, he approached the teacher again.

“Miss Kwan, did Jumi hand in her project?”

She shook her head.  

He frowned.  Today’s project was ten percent of their overall grade.

“Do you know why she’s not here?” He tried again.

She shook her head.

“Can I have another review form?  I want to fill it out again for her.  Will you allow me a couple minutes to do so?”

Eyeing him with interest, she nodded her head and crossed the room to pull a sheet from her bag.  She handed it to him.  Hastily, he scrawled his review of Jumi’s piece of music before handing it to their teacher.

“I hope she knows what a good friend she has in you,” she murmured.  “You do realize that this piece of paper is all I required of you today.  You just singlehandedly saved her semester grade.”

His eyes grew round.  “Her music is beautiful, Miss Kwan!  When you hear it, it will blow you away.”

She gazed at Jumi’s empty seat.  “I hope I get to hear it then.”

Jimin furrowed his brow.  She hoped she’d get to hear it?  Why wouldn’t she?

He turned to go.  

He attended the rest of his classes that day, but he remained troubled by Jumi’s absence.  Something just didn’t feel right.  At a quarter to four, he crossed the campus to see if she was in her usual spot.  Fifteen minutes later, he was disappointed to see it empty.  He was despairing.  He had no idea how to find her.

Suddenly, another girl appeared.  She’d just run up to the tree.  Now, she glanced around.  Jimin looked at her with interest.  

“Are you looking for someone?”

She nodded.  “My friend, Jumi.”

“Jumi?  That’s who I’m looking for!  She didn’t show up in class this morning, and we had a big project due.”

Her eyes grew round.  “She didn’t come to her other classes either!  I haven’t seen her all day.  We usually hang out, eat lunch together.  I’m really worried.  This isn’t like her.  And she didn’t text me.  I want to go check on her, but I have another class in ten minutes.”

Jimin’s gaze sharpened on her.  “Do you know where she lives?”

The girl blinked.  Then she bobbed her head.  

“Please.  Would you give me her address?  I’ll go check on her.  We’re partners in music theory.  I turned her project in for her today, so I hope I saved her grade.”

She assessed him for a moment.  “All right.  You promise me, you’re a good guy?”

Jimin’s eyes grew wide.  As wide as they would go, anyway.  He nodded.  “I’m really worried about her too.  I have this bad feeling.”

That decided her.  “So do I.  All right.  Can I see your phone?”

She typed Jumi’s name and address into his phone before turning away.  But then she pivoted towards him again.  “I’m Areum.”

“I’m Jimin.”

They smiled at each other before parting ways.  But then she turned back once more.  “Can I see your phone again?  I’ll give you my number.  Will you text me if you find out anything?”

“Yeah.  Sure.”  He handed her his phone one more time.

—

The neighborhood was not a good one.  Jimin drove slowly through it looking for her apartment building.  He finally found the run-down place.  But it took him several minutes to find a parking space.  Then he approached the building with care.  He rode the elevator to the thirteenth floor.  And followed its hallway to 1306.  Her apartment number.

He stood outside for a moment.  Nervous.  But his heart was pounding now.  And he recognized that it was from fear.  That something had happened to Jumi.  And her wonderful fingers.

He rapped on the door.  But he got no response.  He turned the doorknob and was astounded when the door opened.  Who left their door unbolted in this neighborhood?

He stuck his head through the opening and called, “Jumi?”

Then he fell silent.  He thought he heard a groan, so he stepped into the apartment and followed the sound.  He was shocked a moment later to see her lying on a couch.  Her eyes were closed.  But it was the state of those eyes that horrified him.  Someone had blackened both of them.  Her face was pinched with pain.

“Jumi!” he cried out as he flew across the room to her.  He flung himself down onto his knees before her.  “Jumi,” he whispered brokenheartedly.  “What happened?”

“I got between him and his bottle of beer,” she moaned.

“Who?” Jimin queried.

“Appa.”

Jimin’s heart sank.  “Where is he?”

“Passed out in his room still.  Though, he’ll probably awake soon.”

Jimin’s eyes slid over her beautiful face that had been so bruised by the man who should have loved her most in all the world.  His tender heart couldn’t take it. 

“Jumi, where is your room?”

She pointed to a little room behind her.  Jimin stood up.  He felt very weird.  But he just had to get her out of here.  He could not leave her vulnerable to that man again.  So he walked into her room and found her school bag, which seemed to have all her books in it.  He glanced around.  He didn’t see any other books or papers lying about.  

He did, however, find another backpack.  He opened drawers and began to pull out shirts and shorts and jeans.  He stuffed them into the backpack.  He felt weirdest about opening her underwear drawer.  But he wasn’t being a pervert.  It was just a fact of life that people wore underwear.  So he grabbed a handful of them as he tried not to think about what he was doing.  

Then he pulled out some socks and crammed them into her bag.  When he was satisfied that he’d gathered enough clothes for the week, he added her jacket to the top of the pile and breathed a sigh of relief that the backpack was so big.  He zipped it shut and lifted it and her school bag and headed for the living room.

He squatted down next to her.  “Jumi.  Please come with me.  I’m terrified he’s going to hurt you again.”

She opened her sad eyes and gazed dazedly at him.  Her lips twisted.  “It’s okay, Jimin.  I know there is no such thing as a knight in shining armor.  You don’t need to be mine.”

Her words hurt his heart.  “Please, Jumi,” he whispered fiercely.  “Please come home with me.”  He reached out and touched her hand, sliding his along the top of hers, his fingers curling around her palm.  “Please.  I packed you a bag and got your school bag.  Did you have any other books or papers lying around your room?”

She shook her head.  “No, it’s all in my bag.  He…he hates…a mess.”

“Come.”  Jimin tugged lightly on her hand.  “Please.”

Those beautiful eyes were pleading with her.  This boy had played such mesmerizing music for her.  Could the heart that produced such stunning beauty really be all that dangerous?  More treacherous than her own appa?

She suddenly doubted it greatly.  

“Do you live alone?”

He shook his head.  “I live with my grandmother.   Above her secondhand shop.  We have a spare room.  You can stay there.  No one will bother you.”

She gazed into those eyes.  Eyes she had found so cold a week ago.  Eyes that, today, seemed to her to be her sanctuary.  Those beautiful eyes were full of such compassion that looking into them made her want to weep.  She hadn’t even cried when her father had punched her.  So what was it about this gentle boy here on his knees before her that made her want to throw herself against his chest and bawl like a baby?

“Please,” he whispered again.

Suddenly, there was a sound from the room opposite hers.  Her eyes, full of fear now, flew to Jimin’s.  He grabbed her bag.  Her backpack of books was already across his back.  His other hand pulled her up off the couch.  She hissed and clenched her teeth.  His eyes flew to her face.  She was cradling her ribs.  

“Go!” she whispered.  

She winced the whole way to his car, but they made it.  Unpursued.

Once they were safely settled into his car and he was driving her out of that scary neighborhood and away from that more terrifying apartment, he glanced at her and asked the question that had been burning in his heart for several minutes.

“Did he break your ribs?”

“Maybe,” she whispered, her face pale.  “He kicked me twice.”

It was Jimin’s turn to wince.  “I’m taking you to a clinic.”

“No!” She sounded terrified.

Jimin glanced at her sharply.

“They’ll want my name.  They’ll want to know who did this to me.  Just stop at a pharmacy and get some tape to wrap my ribs.”

His gaze turned sorrowful.  She sounded like a pro at treating this condition.  How often had she suffered physical violence at the hands – or the feet – of her own father?  

No wonder she’d suspected Jimin of ulterior motives.  If her own appa mistreated her, what man was safe?