His eyes open groggily when he swears he hears noises and that’s when he makes up in the dark that she’s moving around. He takes a glance at the clock with the blaring red digits 4:23 straining his eyes that he groans, casting a look to the door where her silhouette was rather clear as the light outside the door aided in his vision, “Where are you going?” His tone doesn’t change, it’s cold as it was through the night and it’s deep with disappointment and at this point, she doesn’t know if she should say what’s on her mind but she says it anyway.

“Nowhere,”

“Is that why you’re opening the door?”

“Just go back to sleep,”

He sits up and he’s tense in four in the morning, he nearly scrapes off all his hair when he runs his hands through them in pure frustration, “, why can’t you just tell me where you’re going? What else is there to hide?”

“Your mother wanted to talk to me and she told me not to wake you so calm the down,” She’s hissing, breaking and the tone in her voice is changing into a dark one and the shivers run down his spine. Now he’s thinking if he should say anything or not…but he pauses and holds himself back from speaking any further that he keeps silent, stilling on the mattress that she proceeds to take that as a sign that she can leave peacefully. She closes the door behind her and almost instantly after, he hears his mother’s voice.

“Is he awake?”

“N-No,” She answers stammers. Liar. “I… hit my toe against the corner of the cabinet and… you know…”

There were a few hush here and there, moments of clarity and Jongin is sitting up on the bed, back against the wall because the mattress is placed on the floor, there is no bed, he can’t fall back to sleep just yet. He stares at the door as if he can picture the two perfectly and he can’t hear anything just yet. His ears are deafened by the silence but when he shifts closer towards the door, he hears the conversation. Its’ wrong, it’s not polite to eavesdrop but whatever that had happened yesterday that have possibly ruin the whole trip, he doesn’t give a damn.

“Are you two… talking to each other?”

“S-Sort of,” you’re still lying… “Just… maybe not in a good manner for now,”

He hears his mother’s sigh, he hears how her voice is thick with regret, “I’m sorry for bringing it up… I-I shouldn’t have and I should’ve let you told him on your own—“

“Stop,”

And then it really does.

The conversation comes to a halt and for a second, Jongin is thinking that she’s about to return any minute so he stiffens… but she doesn’t. Her voice is heard and he relaxes.

“It’s… not your fault. It’s mine—it’s all mine…”

“You can’t say that. You were thirteen. You can’t—“

“I shouldn’t have hid this from him for so long. It’s been like… more than five close to ten years and only now I’m telling him. Of course he would get mad and I understand but…”

“It wasn’t easy bringing it all up yesterday, was it?”

Jongin feels a kick in his gut because all this while, he’s thinking about him, him, him. He’s thinking about how betrayed he felt because of the lack of knowledge. He feels like how can someone hide something this big from him? How can she have kept it in her chest of secrets and not unleash it when they had countless of days together and here he is trying to figure things out from her perspective, from her view and he has this vague memory of—

“Oh… no…” Jongin is mumbling softly, his eyes glued to the stage and everyone falls silent. Then the music dies down and the poor girl left on the stage remains on the floor, clutching onto her ankle and there were erupts of laughter… and he couldn’t move at all. His mind tells him to run out there to get her back here, his heart is racing but he doesn’t do anything and the whole hall, the whole auditorium—is filled with laughter. How heartless.

Mr. Kang is rushing out with another man, foreign to his mind but it’s coming back nevertheless. The two dashes out and brings her backstage and when Jongin finally manages to speak, calling her name out and he sees Hee Young clutching onto the foreign man, hugging him tight, the tears trickling down and Jongin feels a twist of his guts, tighter, tighter and tighter as each sob of hers grows louder.

“…” He breathes out the frustration, raking both hands through his hair, “I remember…”

He clenches his eyes shut, picturing the same thing again—Hee Young hugging a man and then it snaps.

---

“Was Hee Young your student as a child as well?”

Mr. Kang’s eyes widen and he’s leaning back against his chair with a thoughtful look but it was useless—he didn’t need to think but here he was… He tilted his head to the side for more effect, eyebrows furrowed and then he’s debating if he should or should not answer it clearly—it was hard, harder because he knows what he should say, hardest because he can’t bring himself to lie to a student.

So he gives a vague answer.

“She was—but not particularly under my care—another teacher taught her more than me,”

---

“Just because your dad is a dancing teacher doesn’t mean he can favor you!” He argues.

“My dad chose me because I’m good—simple as that!” She retorts.

He huffs, “That’s not fair… Mr. Kang! It’s not fair!”

His eyes open and he’s paling despite the darkness enveloping him in. He falls back onto the mattress, falling back into slumber, fallen into his thoughts and lost in his dreams as he tries to forget everything—but at the same time, they’re all returning back to him through bits and pieces of his lost memory.

 

 

 

---

 

 

“Have you got everything?” It’s quiet and in the morning and it’s time to head back. Jongin nods, muttering a quick goodbye and placing his arms around his mother when she insists for a hug he can’t deny, either. She’s framing his cheeks when he leans away and before he can reach for his bag, she’s whispering softly, “Please don’t be mad at her… she really did intend to tell you,”

He knows Hee Young is listening and he knows she’s looking as well. He glances over his shoulder and their eyes meet but she looks away, you were staring, then he looks back at his mom and gives her a quick hug, “We’ll patch things up, don’t worry,”

She’s relieved because Jongin’s not one to say anything unless he means it and she understands it must be hard for Jongin but it’s just as hard as it is for Hee Young. She understands that she was young when she made her choice—and it must’ve been a solid reason for her to run away from her past when she’s left alone in her past with no one to guide her with (she knew about her mother’s alcoholic days).

Jongin’s out of the door and he waits by the corridor before the two would walk to the lift and head to the nearest bus stop. As he leans his back on the wall, his mother’s arm extend out and she enters her embrace easily. She rests her chin on her shoulder and she’s feeling the shivers run down her spine when she hears her guilt and apology resonate through her ears, “I’m sorry, Hee Young-ah…”

Hee Young is shaking her head, the same smile since the day she arrived has never changed and she’s saying, “Don’t be. You have no reason to be,”

They hold hands for a while, they’re appreciating the final moments, the last few seconds before they let go and Jongin is courteous enough to hold the bag for her. When she tries to hold onto it, he moves away and waves back to his mother then the two are walking silently. But before they could reach far off, Jongin stills when he hears his name called out by the strained voice that belonged to his mother. He turns and glances at her, only to hiss when Hee Young snatches her bag from his grip. He wants to say something like now you can’t even let me hold your things but he holds it back when his mother is tugging him towards her. Hee Young says that she’ll wait for him by the bus stop and he doesn’t reply when he’s busy listening to his mother.

“A friend mailed this to you,”

Jongin cocked an eyebrow, receiving the parcel that was indeed destined for him but he’s questioning, “But all my friends would know to mail it to my dorm,”

She shrugs, “Maybe this one is left out from it,”

Jongin nods and grabs it under his arm, planting a quick kiss on her cheek before he says his goodbyes once more and she’s squeezing his hand one last time, “Don’t let her go, Jongin-ah…”

He lets out a sigh and as much as he wants to tell his mother they’ll be fine, he knows there needs to be some talking before things get back on track because it’s not every day you lose your memory, it’s not every day you get your memory restored and it’s not every day you meet the person you’ve been missing all these years. It’s not every day you finally realize that you’ve lost and found what you’ve been searching for all this while and he’s trying to adapt to the new information.

“I know what to do,” He says confidently, he’s waving goodbye and he walks to the lift.

He doesn’t know what to do.

 

 

 

---

 

 

The two are side by side on the bus, on the way back, but the feeling is different between them. The air is colder, the warmth is gone and there are no words being said to one another. Then as the bus comes to a halt to pick up another passenger (or a few, actually), the two glance at one another and then away—feeling the rising tension but they don’t exchange any words.

There are a few boys getting on board and immediately, he feels his blood boiling when—

“She’s pretty,”

“Why don’t you ask her out?”

“I bet they’re not together—just strangers, possibly,”

Hee Young cranes her neck over her shoulder when she could feel the calls being directed to her and she wants them to stop because they’re creating a whole ruckus—high school boys, s, “What?”

“Wanna go out for a date? There’s a beach nearby after this stop and it can be just you and me,”

She rolls her eyes and he can feel her irritation. She brushes it off until she hears a bunch of whistles and these goons are getting glares from the people wishing for peace and quiet because it’s early in the morning. She sinks further into her seat and closes her eyes, wanting to just dive into her bed and pray for nothing but being able to be invisible.

Jongin’s not having it when he hears one of them calling her a fallen angel that’s disguised as an Asian girl and he’s infuriated in eight in the morning.

He stands up and Hee Young is casting a look when she sees both of his fists are clenched and she can almost see the venom seeping through when he speaks, “If any of you continue with your ed up pickup lines to my girlfriend, I will legitimately break something in every one of you.” Hee Young raises an eyebrow at the sudden possessiveness but that doesn’t meant she doesn’t like it—if anything, it’s making her bite back the smile that threatens to form because as of now, they’re still not on good terms just yet. But she appreciates that whatever is between them, stays between them without him lashing it out in public—indeed, Kai is Jongin and Jongin is the same boy she fell for when she was just as little as he was.

“Thanks,” She expresses her gratitude and it’s the nicest thing she’s said in the timespan between yesterday and today.

“Don’t mention it,” He breathes, slipping himself back into his seat when he takes note of the horrified expressions plastered on those teenage boys, “They were getting on my nerves, anyway,”

And even though they don’t speak much through the whole ride back, in between the stops they take, at least they know the feeling is mutual and though things aren’t sorted out now, they will be.

Or hopefully, they will.

 

 

 

---

 

 

Jongin insists he walks her back to her dorm, he tells her that even if they’re not on talking terms just yet, he’s still going to do what he wants to. They walk in silence, no words are said until they reach her door and she’s wondering just what does she say in this situation because she’s said all she needs to—she’s let everything out and really, she’s not hiding anything anymore.

And if he still chooses to keep this as their path, their faith, she’s going with it. It’s all up to him to whether he accepts it or not and she’s not going to force anything because she’s in no position to do anything.

She says the quietest goodbye he’s ever heard and she’s about to close the door but he places a hand on it. She an eyebrow but opens the door wider to come face to face with him once more. Then her eyes are fluttering shut quickly when she feels a hand at the back of her neck, then his lips brushing on the skin of her forehead before a kiss was planted gently. He leans away, tells her that he’ll see her soon and wishes for her to rest well before he walks off. She stands there in a complete daze, only closing the door after five seconds of realizing he’s not going to turn back around.

Then ten seconds too late, he glances over his shoulder and sees that she’s safely in her dorm and it’s time for him to decipher through his emotions and feelings because clearly, they’re all over the place. At the very least, he has a rough idea of what his feelings are—and he knows he’s firm on this one.

 

 

 

---

 

 

The door creaks open and Kyungsoo is nearly startled from the sound. He groans and rolls over on the bed when the light is flicked on. Jongin dodges the pillow being thrown at him and he’s chuckling, “Dude, it’s almost twelve,”

“It’s semester break, dickhead,” The latter groans but all Jongin does is sits down on the bed after dropping his things aside and testing how deep his death wish is by opening the blinds. Kyungsoo is like a deprived vampire, feeling the brightness invade his space too soon and he’s tossing another pillow at Jongin’s way, “What are you doing back so early? You said you were coming back in the evening,”

“Change of plans, alright?” The other answers smoothly, resting in his good old bed and then Kyungsoo is eyeing the brown packet, “What’s that?”

Jongin looks over his shoulder to the table behind his bed, realizing that oh right, I have a parcel, “I don’t know,” The guy takes it in his lap and Kyungsoo is not giving a damn because he’s falling back into his bed, tangled in his sheets and covering his whole body with just the white piece of cloth that’s twice his size.

Sounds of paper ripping could be heard and Jongin prays that it’s not some ed up thing like how he got pranked the last two years during April Fools. Apparently it was a late package as Jongin finds a piece of paper. Thank God he hadn’t torn it in the middle of his unceremonious decision of tearing this packet open.

“From your buddy…” He searches for a name and his eyes widen, “Minseok?”

He finds it odd and places it aside, now knowing that Minseok had gotten the wrong address for his parent’s place instead of his dorm and luckily his mother remembers because usually, she forgets. It seems like fate is on his side when he flips the miniature-like envelope open just to empty out its contents, which are photos.

He frowns at first, not knowing what these were but then, he’s feeling the sensation flushing through his veins as each picture—is a memory.

“A-Ah! I left my jacket and I want to use the bathroom,”

“I’ll be out here,” She groans.

He nods and smiles apologetically, “I won’t take long, promise!”

Then he’s in her room, closing the door behind him and switches on the tap as an extra effect. He’s pacing around, glancing through the items and making sure he’s very careful to make it look like no one has touched the box. He slides the packet into his pocket and shifts everything back into place before closing the box, switching off the tap and flushing the toilet (sorry water supply) and then he’s meeting with her face to face, “Let’s go,”

Jongin is nervous and scared at the same time but indeed, he’s curious.

He flips them over and he could roughly feel it’s about five pictures altogether.

And it’s five pieces of memory that could come together as one, sealing the cracks and bits of his childhood that he’s missing.

What he sees is a photo of a boy and a girl at a park. He immediately registers that it’s him and it’s her even at such a young age, together. She’s on the bench, she’s beside him and she’s just about his size as he holds onto her hand. His fingers are in the spaces of hers and she looks so tiny in the photo—so that’s how she looks like…she looks familiar.

The next photo is just him, by the dance studio in which he looks so small in because of how huge the space was. He’s in his dancing attire, he’s facing the mirror and his father is taking a photo of him from the back. There’s a figure just by the right corner of the picture and then he realizes that at such a young age, Hee Young is aware to how to photobomb a picture.

He switches to the next and he sees how his arm is linked with hers—and they’re older. He does the math in his mind with the date in the corner right of the photo and he’s informed that they were ten years old when this photo was snapped. It’s him smiling too wide and it’s her not smiling enough but together it’s a perfect balance, oddly. He can’t tell if he was an back as a child because yeah, certain parts of his memory are still blurred but for the most part, he’s trying to remember desperately. Chances are he’ll remember if she tells him in detail but he doesn’t know if he’s ready to hear it all just yet. Just like what she fears, he’s afraid that he won’t be able to remember and he doesn’t want to break himself, he doesn’t want to break her—he can’t afford that.

He’s looking through all the pictures, over and over again and even though he has some recollection of who she is, who she was… it doesn’t click.

He shoves the photos off his lap, onto the floor along with the torn pieces of paper before he stuffs himself in the bed.

Why can’t I remember…?

 

 

 

---

 

 

“So… the final performance of the year is coming and it’s time to vote—“

“Oh what’s the point? We already know who the main leads are!”

Almost, almost everyone is staring at the two by the side of the room and in the next, they’re being dragged to the middle of the room, wide eyes on them but most importantly, someone is smiling right at their faces.

“C’mon, you guys saw this coming,”

“No, not really,” Hee Young answers and Jongin is nodding along with her, “To be honest, we didn’t exactly agree—“

“This’ll give you extra credit—“

“And we don’t need it—“

“We’ll do it,”

Hee Young is narrowing her eyes at him, her tone is rather confused, “Wait, what?”

“Yeah, just, fill us in on it later—practice time and stuff,” He adds on rather awkwardly and Mr. Kang is dismissing them to the side, back to where they were seated and he admits that was rather easy to persuade them in. When they’re on the floor again, backs against the walls, she’s looking at him, “You don’t even want to do this—“

“You want Juilliard—this’ll help you,”

“But then you—“

“I’ll go wherever you go,” He answers simply, then he looks into her eyes, “You know that,”

“Kai—“

“Alright, everyone up! Just because we’re done with finals doesn’t mean that you can slack off—up, up, up!”

And whatever she has to say is left in her as they carry on whatever they’re forced to do first.

 

 

---