Memories

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❝When will we see each other again?❞

-Yoongi

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Yoongi

I watched as Haneul interacted with Hosoek. Her smile was shining bright like the day I met her.

Since she's shown signs of recovering some of her memories, omma suggested we try meeting with her again.

"Try not to bombard her, Yoongi. Perhaps see how you and the boys can stagger your appearances. That way, if she's met with a few of you, we would be able to assess how well she handles it," my mother said, placing her pen down on the desk.

Not trusting my own words, I nodded. Seemingly satisfied with my response, she wrote down a few additional instructions for me to share with the others.

"Good, all the best, my son. Let's bring our Haneul back!"

This was a week ago.

We've had to be so careful with Haneul, distancing ourselves for the last five years so that she could heal away from everyone that is from her painful past.

It pained me to let her go.

It hurt all seven of us. But we had to let her heal. Even if the treatment never worked. We had to try.

Thankfully, my mother is the neurologist that has helped treat Haneul.

She also counselled Namjoon. He became a different person after the accident. Blaming himself for Haneul's state, he cooped himself up in the confines of the library at his family home for a week after her hospitalisation. My mother did her best to remind him that he's not the one at fault.

No one blamed him. Not even Taehyung, who lashed out at him, his own anguish burning down his sense of logic. It had taken months, but we made it through.

Jin hyung really helped. Perhaps all Namjoon needed were a few words of encouragement from our eldest brother.

Unknowingly, Jin hyung helped me too. I didn't know I needed to hear those words. We all needed to hear it.

The seven of us were sitting together in the school library, listening to him talking to Namjoon.

I don't think I've ever cried like that. Especially after considering what happened next.

Because the next day, our Haneul woke up.

"Who are you?"

These were the words that felt like a dagger delving into our hearts.

Jamais vu, my mother called it. A phenomenon occurred after an incident. Where the victim no longer recognizes familiar faces. Family and friends become strangers to them.

It is a result of a mixture of shock and trauma. Haneul had lost her parents and grandmother within the last year. Namjoon tried cheering her up.

We all did.

But, perhaps his timing was unfortunate.

Haneul had been attacked. Namjoon had managed to save her from the vehicle's impact, but as they dodged the bullets, they both fell.

And we still aren't sure how she was hurt. My mother and her team think it's just a cocktail of trauma and grief.

If that's the case, Jungkook would have reacted the same, right?

He lost his parents on the same day as Haneul. For the same reason.

And then he lost Haneul.

Needless to say, Jungkook was torn apart, but he insisted on an early enlistment with the rest of us. He refused to study further, until his higher ups made the decision to release him from his services at the age of twenty-one.

When we returned, Haneul had already moved in with Mr. Park. Because that was the safest decision. She wasn't very familiar with Mr. Park.

But it was safe because he's Jimin's uncle. And his wife was a nurse.

When we returned from our service, Haneul was studying at Seoul University, so some of us enrolled there-just to keep an eye on her from a distance.

However, I'd already studied before enlisting. So Jin hyung and I joined the firm in the hopes of helping our fathers' out. And maybe use the information around us to find the perpetrator or we'd probably have lost our minds.

I remember the nights I spent awake, unable to sleep because all I could see in my dreams were the days when she was with us. I still felt her soft hands in mine when we talked.

She had a habit of holding my hands. As if she was afraid of letting go.

Of course I didn't spend as much time with her as Hoseok, Namjoon and the maknae. Our parents knew each other, so we'd see each other at meetings, or parties.

Thankfully, I got to spend a year at school with her and the others.

But we didn't really go out or talk as much as she did with them. Though that didn't deter me.

Because I knew we were all meant to be hers.

We were all in high school when we realised this. It was weird for us at first, having to deal with hormones and growing up-and then you realize that you're sharing a wife with your cousins.

But we quickly got over that. We studied the history of adelphic relationships. They dated as far back as five thousand years, BC.

Perhaps the universe was trying to tell us something?

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Omma's instructions were conveyed to the others and we decided that Jimin would be the best person to meet her first. How he initiated that contact was up to him.

Although, by chance, I walked up to Mr. Park's office while he was in conversation with her yesterday. He gestured for me to enter, and I heard her voice for the first time in five years.

Maybe it was the look on my face that gave me away, the raw emotions I felt after years of holding it all in. But Mr. Park suggested I speak to her.

So I did. But she hadn't shown any sign of recognition. It stung like the day she woke up from her coma.

I felt like I'd travelled back in time to the day when she didn't recognize me at all.

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"Yoongi!" she tapped my shoulder. "Why are you always so quiet! Come let's sit outside, maybe on the swing?"

"Sure," I smiled, rising from my seat in the corner of the opulent room.

We walked in silence for a few minutes, until we reached the swings outside. My parents were always so extra.

But the one thing I liked about their house is the addition of the swing chair in the garden behind our manor.

"We're friends right? Mum says we're all friends. So why do you avoid me?" she kicked her legs out, her slightly muddy sneakers up in the air as she swung forward.

I mirrored her actions. A smile tugging on my lips after days. I felt so out of place at these parties.

"It's not you Haneul. I just don't like these gatherings. I'd rather be in my room, writing."

"What do you like writing about?" she titled her head towards me.

"Music," I smiled, feeling a little more at ease. There's always been something about her that could put my soul at ease.

I could talk to her so easily. Apart from my cousins, I didn't have many friends, so I usually felt alone at school and now at university.

"Wow! What do you play? Wait, don't tell me!" she slid closer to me with an unearthly grace.

"Hmmm, you have a few scars, so I'm guessing the guitar!" she gave me the cutest smile I'd ever seen.

"Yes, but I also play the piano," I grinned, impressed by her knowledge. "These are from an accident I had while learning a few years ago. I picked up the wrong guitar and didn't check for the beginner's strings when I strummed."

She winced slightly, as if experiencing my pain.

"Sorry," she held on to my hands. "My mum plays the guitar. She told me about that happening to her too," her voice became a soothing balm.

"You're nineteen, right?" she asked suddenly.

"Yes, officially in March," I smiled.

"So you're four years older than me!" she grinned, her lips sparkled from her glittery lipgloss.

We talked about music and I tried teaching her a little about the difference between playing a guitar and playing the piano.

There was a time when I wanted to become a musician. So I studied music for a while. Then I switched majors.

How I ended up as a criminologist is still a mystery, even to me!

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"Yoongi?" a warm, tentative voice washed over me, rousing me from my little trip down memory lane.

"Haneul?" I blinked.

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