At first, Yoongi thinks he's getting off easy — little things that, while annoying, aren't defining or deliberate. It's hard, because then he doesn't know how to fix those things, but they're not things that say anything specific about him.

That, though, does. For a moment, Yoongi is left reeling, not because the words are in any way cruel, but because they feel so fundamentally true and false at the same time. If he blames himself so harshly, it's because it's deserved. Faced with it put like this, though, he can't say it isn't true that he does blame himself often. It's not like it's something he does on purpose either; if he could stop being so lacking, if he knew how, he would. There's something brutal in being seen like this — a kind of grace, too, in being recognized, in having someone who knows him so intimately. It's almost a relief even as it's surprisingly painful.

"Only when it's my fault," he protests, but it sounds weak to him, like it might just be more of what Jungkook is pointing out. He shrugs, voice quiet as he continues. "Isn't it better if I own when I fuck up than if I pretend it's okay?"