https://youtu.be/xtDQF0J6NjY

Без тебя я не я - Hammali & Navai (ft. Jony) 

Jimin couldn't get rid of those words even when he tried. He had a newborn child and his wife was healthy, yet the unsettling emotions and dominant guilt still drove him. He smiled and ate, took care of his life partner, and joked, but everything seemed like a chore. 

Rosenow was soon released from the hospital post-delivery and the three were currently at their bungalow. He had taken full-time parental leave and was at home for the following month. After the woman lay in bed, he walked out and gingerly shut the bedroom door behind him. 

In his magenta silk robes and slippers, he was ready for bed, but like the whole week, he couldn't close his eyes. Waltzing into his library, he picked a neurobiology book and poured himself premium scotch — his friend since he learned to drink.

He settled on a chair and took one sip. His head hurt and the words on the pages looked too small to focus. To his discredit, he hadn't turned on the reading lights.

I am not letting him die because of you this time. 

The haunting words slapped him again. All the six years he was trying to find Jungkook, the thought did cross his mind a few times, but he was too much of a coward to conclude that he could deal with the boy's death on his conscience, so he disregarded it meticulously, every single time. "I love her. I love her." He rasped, head falling back and eyes closed as he carded his hair and tugged at the roots. 

He pulled out his phone from his robe pocket and twiddled with his father's contact number. His thumb hovered right on top of her name, but he couldn't make the call. He couldn't leave his 7-day-old baby boy with his bedridden wife. Could he? 

I am not letting him die because of you this time.

Gripping the glass, he bottomed it out, his chest rising and falling frantically in the shackles of his responsibilities. All he wanted was to efface the pin-prick in his heart, make it ineffective, but he didn't know how to. 

He lurched on his phone again and unlocked it to go on the travel site. His thumbs automatically typed 'flights from Korea to Neoviva' before he could realize it, and then he threw the device back on the table. 

The more time he stayed home, the less likely it was for him to find Jungkook. He was sure that Taehyung would rather disfigure him than let him see Jungkook ever again. 

When his phone vibrated, he saw Taehyung's name flashing in his blurry vision. With a need like breathing oxygen, he charged at the device, ignoring how his fingers trembled with the spike in his heart rate. "Hello."

"Fuck you, JIMIN! FUCK YOU!" Taehyung bellowed from the other side of the phone. 

"What did you mean when you said I am not letting him die because of you this time?"

"Didn't you hear me?" Taehyung repeated, his voice full of disdain. He never called him in years, and when he had now, Jimin felt immune to the hate that he anticipated. All he needed was an answer. "FUCK YOU! I REGRET I WAS EVER FRIENDS WITH YOU! I- I won't forgive you." The man's breath hitched. 

Jimin's chin trembled as his tears silently escaped his eyes. He could hear the tram behind the man, the horns of the cars, and announcements blaring off in English. "Where are you?" He asked as calmly as he could. 

"It doesn't matter. Nothing matters. I can't do this anymore, Jimin." Taehyung's breath screeched and he spluttered up coughing madly.

Jimin could imagine how badly the man had to be crying. His heart ached, and his feet moved him. "Tell me, Tae," he ventured. "What did you mean?"

"You don't deserve to know." 

"I fucking do!" Jimin lost his cool for a moment and breathed deeply to compose. In and out. In and out as he reached the guest bathroom and gripped the sink tightly. "Please. I need to know. Did he-"

"No." Taehyung denied slowly and Jimin breathed, closing his eyes. He was thinking it all wrong.

"I am sorry, Taehyung-ah," for the first time since they parted ways, Jimin apologized heartily. Hearing the words, Taehyung cried hysterically like he needed a shoulder right now out in the cold. Jimin wept silently, shivers wracking his body as he kept his head hung low. "I am sorry." All he wanted was one chance to go back in time to save not only the boy who was connected to him like a flawed fate but also his best friend in life. He wanted to hug his friend and comfort him, be able to take a little of his pain if it meant he'd have him back. He wanted to do things differently this time, but that wasn't possible. All he had was a hole the size of a meteor in his chest and hollowness nothing could fill. 

"Why, Jimin-ah? Why not me? Why didn't he choose me?"

"I complain to God the same thing more than you do, Tae. I wish I could alleviate some of your pain. If you ask me anything, I'll give it to you, no questions asked." Jimin rolled his hair back before wiping his cheeks with the back of his hand. 

"You can't give me what I want," Taehyung hiccupped. "You really can't."

The phone went dead and Jimin looked at the lit screen. 

It felt like his soul was wrenched out of his body and it was staring at him standing there like a ghost. He didn't blink, didn't move, just stared at the screen. The more he stared, the deeper his trance built. The vines started heckling and tightening around his arms, legs, and chest. It was dark. He was in a dark forest with nothing but a small amount of light coming from one direction. 

He struggled to get out, to break free, but his body wasn't on his team. He screamed his lungs out until his throat went scratchy. He tried to take sharp gasps of breaths until his chest started bobbing on its own like a stuck record. His eyes widened as he tried to grasp the little light, but the more he opened his eyes, the more the darkness settled. 

The ground under his feet started dipping down and he screamed again when he thought he had almost lost his voice. The light. He had to run towards the light. He could do it, he could run for it. All he needed was to take one step at a time. 

Suddenly, a bright flash shone on his eyes that almost blinded him. When he finally jerked back, he was breathing heavily while staring at the chat app notification. Jungkook is online. 

The cursed thing went black like before the moment he jumped on it. 

He looked around, not knowing how did he end up in the guest bedroom. The streaks of tears on his pale face were visible in the mirror as he glared at himself. Taehyung's call played like a video in his head.

"What did you mean?"

"What did you mean when you said I am not letting him die because of you this time?"

"Please. I need to know. Did he-"

"No."

Two syllables and one word. 

Jimin breathed easily as the realization kept dawning deeper and deeper until his rhythms regularised. Taehuyung wouldn't lie to him. Would he?

Jungkook mightn't have attempted to take his life, but disappearing from the face of the earth meant it wasn't a bed of roses for him at all. He didn't only disappear, he had forsaken his dream of becoming a doctor, his entire life. If the boy was enrolled anywhere in the world of medical sciences, Jimin would've known. He mightn't have shared the passion of becoming a doctor with Hoseok, Taehyung, or even Jungkook, but now that he was one, he owned the perks. 

Where was Jungkook?

How did he hide for six years?

And if Taehyung's state gave him any indication, he wasn't able to find him in Neoviva either. It wasn't for the lack of trying on Taehyung's part, Jimin knew. Jungkook didn't want to be found. He had known of Taehyung's untimely travels all these years — for which he could safely assume the reason — but his former friend never succeeded. Not once. 

What was Jungkook doing? 

Were his parents in agreement with his decision?

Did he choose something else to do with his life?

Did he find someone? 

Hell, whenever he thought of Jungkook, he thought of a smiling face, a strong-headed and confident teenager. It was like no time had passed in his memories. Jungkook wasn't a boy now. He must be a man, wherever he was — a desirable and respected man.

The thought made Jimin smile to himself. He was proud of what Jungkook was becoming irrespective of the complicated dynamic he had shared with him back in the day.

If Taehyung had been here, he would have told him that he had no right to feel anything for Jungkook. No pride, no pity, no regret, no pain, and he definitely wouldn't have approved reminiscence.

Hours passed on the library chair before he strolled back to bed.

Rose stirred awake and looked at him. "Hey," she palmed his cheek as he got under the blanket, her voice raspy. 

"Go back to sleep." Jimin kissed her palm by bringing it to his lips.

"Are you okay? What time is it?" She began to get up, but Jimin gently held her wrist to stop her. Rosenow has always been a perfect wife. He would say that she had taken the role too perfectly. 

"Go back to sleep. I am fine. I was studying for one of my friend's cases tomorrow. I'll be helping him on call."

Rosenow sniffed alcohol, but she didn't say anything. She knew these were a tough couple of days for him as much as they were for her, and he didn't talk much. Jimin had always been suffering in silence kinda guy. He shared his happiness with everyone, but when it came to his sorrows, he only ever chose Taehyung to spill his guts. She had been awry of it, sometimes wishing she had a relationship like those two with her then-boyfriend, but she never could cross that boundary. At times she thought it was a cultural barrier, but it didn't make sense for long. She soon had come to terms with it though. She accepted Jimin as he was. 

But when Jimin lost his only confidante, he closed himself off entirely.

When Jimin was more lively than any other guy, now he lived under a constant grey cloud. When he always laughed then, he barely smiled now. It had been ages since he dyed his hair when he did that twice a year once upon a time.

Stifling a painful moan, she straightened and held Jimin's palm to dive off to sleep. Jimin, on the other hand, couldn't close his eyes again. It wasn't that he didn't want to, but he was afraid that he would get stuck in the dark forest again. 

He watched as Rosenow passed out soon enough, her breasts calmly following a rhythm. Ensuring after some time that she was fast asleep, he got out of bed and beelined towards the baby boy. They still hadn't named him yet, but suggestions have been pouring in from all of their friends and families. 

He watched the boy also mirroring his mother's posture and he felt a sudden and fresh wave of guilt washing over him. He was living a lie, and unless he could make everything right, he was never going to be a good father. What would he teach his son about honesty when he wasn't in the right? The thought terrified him more than anything. A man could fail and get up over and over, but falling in front of his child was something he couldn't fathom ever recuperating from. 

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11 Feb, 2023