(( Ready for the big chapter? :D I forgot to put it at the end of the last chapter, inquiring about what people had as last minute perdictions, but oh well :3

Also, I was right when I guessed 25 chapters, I finished the 24th a couple of days ago and the one after shall be the final one uwu I can't believe it's almost over, I've been writing this story for close to 7 months, it's going to be so hard to let go ;o; ))

“Who… Who’s shirt is this?”

“Chanyeol-”

“Who does this shirt belong to?” Jongdae cringed as Chanyeol’s voice rose, but more so because it sounded just like his own voice cracking when his mother grabbed onto his arm.

“Did.”

“What?”

“The question you mean to ask is who did it belong to.”

“I don’t under-”

“I’m not drunk enough for this conversation,” Jongdae muttered, rubbing his face with his hand and flinching when Chanyeol took a step towards him. Chanyeol stared at him for a moment before he took a step back, a panic trying to claw its way up his throat. Jongdae had only once before flinched away from him- back in Hongdae.

“The… the music box,” Chanyeol swallowed hard, feeling like he was about to choke on his own tongue. “It wasn’t for Yifan.” Jongdae looked over at him then off to the side before he shook his head. Who-”

“The same person that the shirt you’re holding belonged to,” Jongdae said, feeling his legs quiver beneath himself.  Chanyeol opened his mouth again, faltering when Jongdae turned away, starting for the door. Chanyeol stumbled after him, grabbing a hold of his arm. As any time he had grabbed Jongdae before, the brunet jerked his arm forward bas if it was a reflex, but this time he didn’t push Chanyeol back.

“Jongdae please. You know something about this that you’re not telling me. I need to know.”

“Trust me, it’s better if you don’t. Forget about it.”

“That’s the problem!” Chanyeol pressed, staring hard at the back of the brunet’s head before tugging on his arm. “Please Jongdae… tell me what happened.” Jongdae’s shoulders dropped and he took a slow breath.

“What day is it?”

“What does that have-”

“What day is it?” Jongdae’s tone sharpened and Chanyeol almost pulled his hand back, pausing to think.

“The twenty-seventh.”

“Do you have any idea what significance that has?” Chanyeol swallowed hard and Jongdae turned to him when he didn’t speak. “December twenty-seventh, two thousand thirteen.” Jongdae stared at Chanyeol face for a long moment, reading the confusion in his eyes.

“Jongdae, that date doesn’t mean anything to me, I was in a coma then-”

“Byun Baekhyun. Does that name mean anything you you?” Jongdae’s voice rose again, a split second of light headedness waving through Chanyeol’s head.

“N-no.”

“You don’t sound sure about that.” Chanyeol pulled his hand back from Jongdae’s arm, stepping back as his head throbbed. His hands moved up, dropping the shirt to the floor as he gripped the sides of his head, the room feeling like it was tiltilng. Jongdae crossed the room, opening the drawer of his nightstand and pulling out the shoebox of letters that he kept. He dug in it until he found a photograph, and he moved back in front of Chanyeol, holding it up. Chanyeol opened his eyes slowly, though they widened when he saw the brunet in the photo.

“This is Baekhyun. Three years ago today he died, the same time you were hospitalized for your coma.”

//The brunet looked over his shoulder at Chanyeol before rolling his eyes and laughing.//

Chanyeol took a step back, knees hitting Jongdae’s bed and she staggered, Jongdae following him though he lowered the photo when he realized just how pale the other was.

“He moved away and he met you, then he was in an accident.”

“I don’t-”

“Don’t remember? I know.”

“How? How do you know it was me that he was talking about?”

“Because we wrote letters to each other and he talked about you a lot. He wanted you and I to meet, but then he died.”

//”Remember my friend Jongdae? He’s got a performance that I’m supposed to play the piano for today. It’s really important to him and I’m scared that I’ll blow it and mess up the chance for him to follow his deem” The brunet sighed, pulling his legs to his chest, resting his chin on his knees.//

“You… had a performance…” Jongdae frowned a little at the other’s words, taking in how unfocused his gaze was. “He… he was scared and I…”

//“I know just what’ll help. Trust me Beak, after this nothing’ll scare you.”//

“I tried to help but…”

//“Chanyeol, where are we going?” Baekhyun asked, trying to push Chanyeol’s hands from where they were, covering the older’s eyes. “I need to head to Jongdae’s school so I’m not late. He’ll kick my if I break another promise to him.”

“This’ll only take a minute,” Chanyeol replied, pushing open the metal door and dragging Baekhyun along with him, paying no mind to the ‘off limits’ sign on the door. He led Baekhyun along the gravel, stopping him at the curbed ledge before moving behind him, holding firmly onto his shoulders. “Okay, open your eyes,” He said. Baekhyun opened his eyes slowly at first before his entire body tensed. He tried to push back and away from the roof’s ledge, his voice rising an octave.

“What do you think you’re doing?!” he snapped, managing to get one step back.

“Helping you.”

“By putting me on a roof’s ledge? Don’t’ you know how terrifying that is?” He exclaimed, Chanyeol stepping back and letting him go. “You don’t I don’t like heights, how is this supposed to help?”

“It’s only a two story building so it’s not that high up. And if you can face this then playing in front of a crowd will be a walk in the park,” He replied, and Baekhyun lured at him before easing his gaze back over the edge. Chanyeol grinned, taking a single step closer before grabbing Baekhyun’s shoulders again, causing the brunet to leap out of his skin.

“Seriously! Stop being an , this isn’t funny,” Baekhyun scolded, Chanyeol holding his hands up in surrender, stepping back.

“Okay, I got it,” He replied, giving the other an apologetic smile before Baekhyun sighed, running a hand through his hair, looking back over the ledge. Chayeol watched him for a moment, then stepped closer and Baekhyun’s spun around to face him.

“Park Chanyeol, if you scare me one more time, I swear,” Baekhyun took a step back, voice catching and eyes widening when his foot hit tur curbed ledge. Chanyeol’s stomach dropped and he lunged forward, catching Baekhyun’s fingers. He wasn’t able to keep a firm grip on the other’s hand, and it slipped from his in a matter of seconds. The force sent Chanyeol back as Baekhyun fell off the roof, and the brunet’s scream was the last thing Chanyeol heard before pain shot through the back of his head, everything going black.//

“But he… he fell. Oh god…” Chanyeol’s knees gave out and he missed the bed, landing on the floor in front of it. “It… it was my fault.”

“The doctors told his parents they thought it was a suicide attempt. Someone called in saying he had seen someone fall and they weren’t sure if it was on purpose or not,” Jongdae said, squatting down in front of Chanyeol.

“I…” They both looked to the blond in the doorway. “I think… that was me,” ZiTao said slowly. “I lived a few towns north of here for a few months when I first moved here. I heard someone scream and then hit the ground across the street from where I was, so I called the hospital.” He stepped into the room, stopping half way towards the pair. “I couldn’t see his face… there was a lot of blood, but I think he had the same hair as he person in Jongdae’s photographs. And it happened at the end of that year. Chanyeol looked down at the floor, a ringing settling in his heard before he dug out his Mobil from his pocket. He scrolled through his contacts, selecting Yura’s number.

“Your sister?” Jongdae asked as Chanyeol held the device to his ear.

“Her and my mother kept this from me, I want to know why,” He replied a soft click sounding after a few rings.

“Chanyeol? It’s been a while. How are-”

“Baekhyun.”

“… Come again?”

“I had a friend named Baekhyun, then he died and you never even tried to tell me about him.”

“You… You got your memory back?”

“No thanks to you. Why didn’t you tell me? Did you know that was why I was having night terrors?”  The hand ZiTao placed on his shoulder pulled him back enough to realize his breathing had picked up again.

“I-” Yura cut herself off, a silence that grated at Chanyeol’s nerves following. “The doctor said not to try and make you remember.”

“What?”

“When you woke up and remembered nothing about him, mom called me and told me that the doctor said it would be worse if we made you remember. He said that there was a reason your brain locked away those memories. He- he killed himself, why would anyone want to remember seeing that?”

“He didn’t kill himself!”

“Chanyeol, maybe you don’t remember that-”

“I remember everything from that day!” Chanyeol snapped. “Before… before that day, some things are still fuzzy… but he didn’t kill himself, it… it was an accident and I… I wasn’t able to save him…” His voice cracked at the end and he shut his eyes tightly, taking a slow breath.

“That must be why they didn’t find a note.”

“Note?”

“A suicide note. There was a call someone saying they thought it was a suicide. The police went up there to look for some end of explanation and that’s when they found you,” Yura explained. “If the caller hadn’t, there’s a change you wouldn’t have gotten to the hospital in time.” Chanyeol swallowed hard and he looked over at ZiTao until Yura called his name.

“Why were there no trace of him? Why didn’t anyone try to talk to me about him?”

“You two went to different schools your classmates didn’t know him. The just knew that you were hospitalized for a few days and mom made sure to put away any pictures of him.”

“She didn’t want to risk me trying to figure out who he was.”

“She thought it would be best if you didn’t remember.”

“That seems to be the popular opinion of everyone but me, and they’re my memories,” Chanyeol muttered, hanging up before Yura could say anything. He sighed, hanging his head for a long while before he looked to the side at Jongdae.

“Take me to see him.”

“What?”

“I want to go to his grave.”