"No."

"Yoongi, please. Just put this o-"

"NO.

"Yoong-"

"NONONONONONONO! I WON'T DO IT!" Yoongi ran around the room, only his little feet were enveloped by socks, which don't mix well with wood flooring. A few seconds later, Namjoon winced in anticipation as Yoongi began sliding.

Thump.

Namjoon opened his eyes.

"WAH!" Yoongi started sobbing, his forehead red where he'd bumped into a leg of the table.

Namjoon sighed and went over to Yoongi, rubbing his forehead. "There, there. It's all right. You're fine. Just a little bump."

Yoongi cried harder.

"Yoong-"

"Yoongi, here," Hobi said, running over with Yoongi's favorite plushie. "It's Kumamon! He'll kiss your boo boo." Hobi held up Kumamon to Yoongi's forehead and mimicked a kissing sound. "There. See? All better!"

Yoongi's tears slowed one by one until he pulled Kumamon into his arms and hugged the plushie. "Thanks, Hobi," he whispered into Kumamon's stomach.

Hobi smiled and ruffled Yoongi's hair. "No potato, Yoongi."

Namjoon fought a smile. He opened his mouth to correct Hobi but decided against it. He'd fix it. Some other time. And until then, there simply would be no potatoes.

After Yoongi had calmed down, Namjoon decided to readdress the initial issue. "Look, Yoongi. I know you don't want to wear this, but please just put it on so we can take the picture and get it over with?"

Yoongi scowled, rubbing his eyes. "I hate it."

"I know sweetie, but-"

"Why did Jin get to pick out the shirts?" Yoongi mumbled. "Pabo."

"What did you just call your brother?"

"...Taco."

Namjoon sighed. "Jin got to pick out the shirts because he's the oldest. Next year, you'll get to pick out the shirts, okay?"

"And then me?" Hobi asked, jumping up and down excitedly.

Namjoon smiled at his extra son, hugging him just to get him to stop bouncing. "Yes, and then you."

"Me!" Hobi yelled joyfully.

"Yes, you. Now calm down, sunshine."

Hobi burst out of Namjoon's arms and started running around the house.

Namjoon just sighed, face-palming. Not again.

Thump.

"WAH!"

***

After consoling his third-oldest child, he managed to persuade all of them to change into the shirts Jin had picked out, pink t-shirts that said on them. Namjoon's was also pink but said .

Needless to say, Namjoon had not designed the shirts.

Then they went outside by the tree and had a neighbor take their picture.

Then Namjoon printed off dozens of copies.

He then removed every single photograph that his wife was in and replaced them with the new picture.

The picture of their new family.

Minus his wife.

Because she had a different family.

She had given up her place in his.

He took all the displaced photographs and put them in a box that he threw into the attic where he wouldn't have to see it ever again. Until his kids grew older to the point where they wanted to know what had happened to the woman who had carried all of them in her womb and had given birth to them all, given them life.

The woman who had decided that giving them life was enough, that her job was done.

But Namjoon's job was just getting started.