**Present Day**

Jimin stood in front of the coffins that held his parent’s remains. He felt an arm around his shoulders and he shrugged it off. He knew it was his grandmother trying to make him feel better but he just didn’t want to right now, he wanted his parent’s back. But he couldn’t get them back - they were dead.

He walked away from the coffin and out of the church they were holding the funeral in.

I need to go home.

He ran down the steps and bolted towards his home. He saw the landlord’s car in the driveway.

“No, no, no, no, no, no..” He whispered. Feeling the tears slip down his cheeks he wiped them away as he ran up the driveway and into the house. “Mr. Lee!” He shouted. “Mr. Lee! I know you’re here!”

The addressed male emerged from the halls holding a rusted picture frame. “Something you want, boy?” The boy saw a glimpse of the photo and held out his hand. “Give me the photo.” He demanded. “Listen-”

“Give me the photo or so help me god -”

The man threw the photo at the boy, Jimin catching it. “Get what you want and get out.” He walked passed Jimin brushing his shoulder purposefully. Jimin ran upstairs grabbing his yellow backpack throwing in some of his clothes, his other pair of shoes, his books, his yellow fluffy blanket his mother gave him two years ago, and he searched for the family photo albums collecting every single one and placing them in there. He picked up his journals and sketchbooks and art supplies placing them in the back as well before placing the framed photo on top before closing it up and placing it on his back.*

Well… That’s everything..

He looked around his room before leaving downstairs realising there was still the family portraits on the walls. He took down the frames slipping the pictures out of each one before placing them in a random album and closing his bag once more.

He looked around the small place he always called his home before leaving the house entirely sprinting down the street to nowhere in particular.

Just anywhere but here… He thought. 

He wasn’t paying attention to where he was going and bumped into a seemingly nice man. Looks can be deceiving, he told himself. The man held out his hand for the boy to take, which he did.

“Hello, my name is Kim Namjoon. And you are..?”

“Jimin.” He said, balancing himself before looking around him.

“Looking for this?” The man named Namjoon questioned, holding up the little boy’s bag. Jimin didn’t say anything, he snatched the bag away from the man and threw on his shoulders.

“I know a place where you can stay.”

“I don’t trust you!” Jimin shouted.

“I’m not going to hurt you, I promise.. Here.” Namjoon pulled out his wallet and showed the younger his ID card and business card. Jimin was used to seeing those, he saw them everyday - he found them in almost every shop he visited.

“Where’s this place?”

“The Institution.”

"I said where not what."

Namjoon chuckled. "It's just outside of Seoul."