A/N: Sorry! It's been a hot minute since I updated. I almost gave up on the book so close to the finish because i could just no longer see its end. I'm gonna have to weave back through and edit a whole heap of stuff to line up the turn of events, but I think it should work as is for now. We're coming to the end and I hope it'll be as bitter and sweet as I originally imagined it to be :') I totally understand if you gave up cause it's been so long, but if you do decide to stick it out, i hope like hell it'll be worth it for you and that you won't regret it. 

Not long to go now. <3 also posting a couple more unedited chapters to go with this one

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Only a few hours had passed since Chanyeol went away on his business trip, with the promise of returning to my side before I had the chance to miss him. The tangible space between us was ephemeral, but with his leaving, it felt like the final close. With a headache forming, all I could do was sit and bide the time until his return.

Perhaps it was seeing his secretary pick him up that made me feel especially isolated and far away. The look in Mr. Kim's eyes, the hatred and sadness, the desire to monopolize the man I was prepared to lay down my life for; etched its meaning into my brain as his eyes bore into mine, locking me in a stalemate. He had been by Chanyeol's side for years. It was I who came along, waking from the depths of oblivion, only to return and spoil the newfound life and happiness Chanyeol had built for himself. How could I fault Mr. Kim for hating me? Yet, I still selfishly hated that they went away together.

The hours passed in silence, occasionally broken by a distant steady ring or the sound of my own sighs. I sat against the couch which was still pulled up close to the window and stared out at the horizon, trying to ignore the significantly intensifying headaches. Clouds continued looming overhead, and while the rain was not falling directly above me, I could see heavy rainfall approaching from across the horizon. Thunder rolled in the distance, but it became progressively muted by a sharp ringing I came to realize was from my own ears. My neck and shoulders felt stiff from sitting for so long, but I grew dizzy any time I tried to stand, and spots would appear in front of me.

Resigning myself to this spot, I adjusted myself on the seat to watch the television and picked up the remote to flick through the channels. Eventually I came to a news channel being broadcasted. There were reports on the weather, and I could not help but notice how much the quality had changed over the years. It was like watching a multi-dimensional reality through a screen. Amazed by what I saw, I turned the sound up high so I could allow myself to be immersed in it.

There were reports on Michelin Star hotel chefs, crimes across South Korea including conflicts with North Korea and China. There were some lighthearted reports, like a child's birthday party becoming an international sensation because the police showed up and put on a song and dance for the kids which was recorded and spread across the internet. Things that I'd never heard of before enlisting in the military popped up on the screen. Television shows, travel destinations, cooking recipes, couples holiday recommendations, highest rated universities and giant conglomerates showing off their amazing successes.

The things I saw fascinated and astounded me. I wanted to show these things to Chanyeol as soon as he got home. The idea of seeing these places or trying these new things together filled me with so much excitement and joy that I could not hold back from wanting to talk to him right now. My heart buzzed at the idea of talking to him now. I got up to find my phone then quickly pressed his number on speed dial. The phone only rang a couple of times before he picked up.

Buzzing with excitement, I said, "Chanyeol! Did you know we have a Michelin Star hotel based here in Seoul? Should we visit one soon? When I get a job, I will take you there––"

"Mr. Han." My words were cut off by a cold and despondent voice. As if my soul left my body, I felt myself turn cold and rigid as my eyes slowly strayed towards the window. His voice continued to assault what little happiness I had felt just seconds ago, as did the darkened rainclouds now looming directly overhead. "Unfortunately, Director Chan is too preoccupied with more important matters to take your call."

Chanyeol even entrusted Mr. Kim with his personal phone. Their relationship must be closer than I even imagined. My heart, which had been filled with so much hope and excitement just seconds ago, brought me back to a cold and callous reality. Though he was the first person I wanted to share this feeling with, the first person who came to my mind just as he had since childhood, I was no longer that person for him. No longer a stranger to the pain, I blinked away my brimming tears before they had a chance to fall.

My eyes fixed on the window where dark clouds finally cast down rain, and through its reflection, I saw the television displaying seconds of footage that looked eerily like some of my dreams and flashbacks. Some places looked familiar, but my head started to ache before I could think back on where I might have seen them before. There were fallen buildings, clouds of sand swarming through the air, and people covered in black clothing kneeling in the streets, weeping over dead or unconscious bodies. The footage flashed for mere seconds before I bolted towards the television screen.

It was in that moment that the headline flashed across the screen, reading: "FIRST EVER FOOTAGE EMERGES OF 2002 AFGHANISTAN HORROR EARTHQUAKE," quickly followed by, "MISSING SOUTH KOREAN SOLDIER FOUND ALIVE IN SEOUL." More footage of the aftermath flashed across the screen, showing people rummaging through the rubble and screaming out for their loved ones; some in Dari, while others cried out in Korean or English. Further footage showed more South Korean soldiers helping those who had fallen.

My headache grew so intense that I began to wince, rubbing the space between my eyes. Panic began to set in as I watched the broadcast, but I could not begin to explain why. My vision grew increasingly narrow, seeing only what was directly in front of me, which even then was obscured by moving spots.

"Mr. Kim," I said, wrought with tension as I squeezed each word out through gritted teeth. "Please put him on the phone."

"You should remember his place, sir," he said, through short of a whisper, "and be quick to remember yours. Need I repeat myself that he is preoccupied at present?"

It took seconds before my head felt like it was squeezed by a nuthatch. I was growing short of breath, and the chills running down my spine rapidly spread across my body. The pain intensified into a migraine, and my vision turned blinding white. As my balance became compromised with vertigo, I held my hand flat against the glass trying to keep myself upright, but I ultimately collapsed back onto the couch. It was hard to pry my eyes away from the screen, even though my vision was disappearing in waves of foggy white.

When it briefly returned, I saw myself on the screen. Not the me here, now, but the nineteen-year-old me stuck inside this ageing shell. It was my enlistment photo. My hair was shaved, and though I was ordered not to smile, my eyes could not mask the excitement I felt to be going ahead with a new adventure in life.

"Seven years after the tragedy that still weighs heavily on the hearts of many South Koreans to this day, new details of the Afghanistan Earthquake have emerged after the hacking of Seoul National University Hospital's security systems." Wasn't that the issue that had Chanyeol so busy and stressed, yesterday? It had already made the news.

"Just put him on."

"A group of anonymous hackers have exposed the co-conspirators who have kept the identity of missing person Haneul Bom for the past seven years––"

"I'm ending the call now," he said.

"It's urgent!"

"––hiding in plain sight. Caught between blood relations and politics between South Korea and the Taliban, it seemed that Mr. Bom was an unfortunate pawn in a much bigger game. Our reporter has recently been able to locate the whereabouts of Mr. Bom and hopes to get an exclusive interview for you all soon. See the full story after a short ad break."

"Please," I whispered. "I'm begging you."

Mr. Kim continued, "Please refrain from interfering with his professional life and do not call him again until tomorrow."

The line was abruptly cut, and as soon as it did, my phone immediately lit up again. I answered it and brought it back up to my ear, almost dropping it in the process.

"Chanyeol!" I cried with relief.

"Haneul?" Jaemin's voice panted through the phone. I could hear motors and people in the background. It sounded like she was running. "You didn't see the news, did you? Stay where you are. I'm coming over. I'm almost there."

"Huh?" I looked down at my phone screen. Sure enough, it was Jaemin's name on the screen. "Ah, okay. I will meet you downstairs."

"N­––" I ended the call too soon, accidentally cutting off whatever she was about to say. Blinded by the migraine, deafened by the ringing in my ears, almost paralyzed by the weakness that took hold of my body, I stumbled out the door and into the elevator. The buttons were too unfocused for me to see which was the ground level, and my finger slid down multiple of them instead. I had so many questions. Why was my picture in the news? How could I have been classified as a missing person for seven years when I was in hospital the entire time? Many things did not up. The elevator worked its way down too slowly, stopping on three different levels before finally reaching the ground floor.

A loud and excited array of voices permeated the foyer before I stepped out. A large group of reporters crowded the entrance as they set up their cameras and microphones. Security staff made attempts to usher everybody out, but their efforts were fruitless. My vision started to double, and I saw two versions of Jimin through the window as she tried to push her way through the crowd. The security team halted her before she made it through the doors.

"I'm here for my friend!" she yelled while trying to budge past them, but her voice was drowned out by several other voices. A security guard grabbed her by the shoulders and tried to usher her out, but she caught sight of me and pointed. "There he is!"

Everybody went hush and all eyes turned on me. A woman in a red coat pointed at me and yelled, "That's him! It's Haneul Bom!"

"Mr. Bom, did you know about your father's secret proposition with the Taliban?"

Their voices grew muffled compared to the ringing in my ears. My head was still caving in on itself. Their voices were too loud.

"How did you react upon learning that Director Han was involved with the cover up? Are the rumors true that you grew up together and that he and his father were your main benefactors?"

I couldn't make sense of their questions. Everything, from my thoughts to my vision to my footing, all seemed to lose focus. I stumbled and lost myself. Confusion, disorientation, panic, and nausea all seemed to take precedence in this moment of terror. Bile rose in my throat, quickly followed by the limited contents of my stomach which seeped through my lips before I even knew it was coming. My throat burned in the aftermath.

"He's sick, someone call the ambulance!"

"Mr. Bom, can you describe in detail some of the horrors you had to face during your imprisonment with the Taliban?"

I toppled and stumbled forward, but a security guard managed to catch me and hold me upright. My eyes lost focus.

"Haneul!" Jaemin cried, but I could no longer see her. I couldn't see anything.

"What about the details leading up to the earthquake?... What are your plans now, Mr. Bom? With all this evidence you have the grounds for a lawsuit––"

Stop.

"Do you have any scars or lasting injuries caused during your capture by the Taliban?"

Stop, please. It hurts.

"Is it true you were tortured and mutilated?!... What are your thoughts on the current relationship between Afghanistan and South Korea?"

Why are you all...

"Mr. Bom! Do you––"

The piercing ring in my ears finally drowned every last voice, and the room swayed until the floor lifted out from beneath my feet. Whether my body hit the ground, or the guard kept me upright, I didn't know. But I resigned myself to the encompassing darkness and surrendered to the comforting sound of silence. My very last hope was that if I fell back into a dark and blissful long sleep, that Chanyeol's warm but worried gaze would be the first one to welcome me back this time. His face was all I wanted to see.