Happiness .21.

Suga glanced at the digital clock on his bedside. 23.00. His eyes lingered on the series of digits before returning to the notepad beneath him on the bed; a pencil between his fingers as he searched for the hole in the page.

She’s not back yet.

He didn’t know why he felt as troubled as he did by this thought. Just a few minutes ago on returning from the restaurant, he’d been intent on making a beeline for the bedroom and passing out the moment his head hit the pillow… yet his exhaustion was overcome by a gnawing type of unease he couldn’t quite place.

And as much as Suga didn’t want to acknowledge it, deep down he knew it was worry. A stupid concern he had for her safety despite the fact that she was most likely at Taehyung’s penthouse apartment partying away with his friends… or perhaps she’d already taken off to Sehun’s place. He couldn’t be sure. All he did know though was that he was agitated. Agitated by the sheer silence he’d grown unaccustomed to over the past few weeks of the girl constantly being around him. Her nonstop yapping, her stupid expressions, her constant watchful gaze…

‘Stop it,’ Suga warned himself quietly, realizing that he’d been glaring at the page in front of him all this time instead of brainstorming.

She’ll be back soon, in that noisy way of hers. And then you’ll wish she never came back at all. Oh, but little did Suga know that his heart and his mind functioned on their own accord. The girl had grown on him, alright. From a blunt housecat to a person he deeply cared for, even if he wasn’t as yet ready to move on from his painful past experience.

Well, it was still surprising to him how easily he’d managed to talk to the girl a few nights ago about Yunji. It were as if Momoe had tapped into his heart with her honest eyes. He didn’t appreciate her however transforming into a weeping mess by the end of his recollections, but in a way, he found her blunt show of emotion an incredibly endearing sight. Perhaps it was something he longed for. Something he hadn’t achieved with Yunji, who was seemingly disciplined at stashing away her darker emotions in a vault somewhere far from his reach.

Yet Momoe didn’t hesitate to respond to him. No matter what she felt, it was almost more of a refreshing than irritating thing whenever she so openly expressed her discomforts and petty concerns.

Suga glanced out into the darkness of the bedroom window, staring at the white, crusty borders around the sharp square panes.

Over the past few days, the weather had taken an awful turn into bitter, relentless snowfall. Upon leaving work the winds had picked up drastically within a matter of minutes, and the sleet that plagued the city had gradually turned into a generous sprinkling of white snow. It had become awfully cold and was weather perfect for staying indoors.

I hope that idiot is warm, he thought absently, and turned back to his neglected notepad with a tired sigh.

Suga wasn’t sure when it began, but after some time of being within the girl’s body, he’d been subject to scraps of inspiration. At first he disregarded the uncalled-for stimulation out of disbelief, but gradually, the shreds of creativity became more apparent in his everyday life. Perhaps it was the general exposure to people and environments he’d kept himself secluded from over the past year that helped refresh his mind, and undeniably thrilled by the revelations he received on a daily basis, Suga took to writing once again.

It had started out as small, menial words. Perhaps one or two descriptions of a relatively common object. But as time went on and he allowed for his mind to delve into the creativity that left him for as long as he could remember, his writing transformed into elaborate poetry.

He had detested it… or at least he had forced himself to. There was even a point in his dark state over the past year when he had – without a second thought – tossed every last one of his treasured creations into the garbage. Perhaps if the inspiration had hit him then, he’d have treated it the same; regarded it as junk… but his perspective changed. As ludicrous as it was to acknowledge, being in the girl’s body changed him in more ways than just physically.

Scratching down a few processed lines from his mind, Suga glanced at the girl’s phone, frowning when he’d noticed no response to his earlier messages, which consisted of concerned questions he wasn’t quite sure why he’d asked. Some even being death threats as a means of getting back at her considering how akin she was to sending him violent outbursts on a daily basis, but alas, no reply.

Suga returned to scrolling out a few lines at the bottom of the notepad – occasionally pressing his thumb against his lip and tucking the girl’s brown hair back behind his ear – when it happened.

The pain. He winced sharply, squeezing on his pencil at the awful, wrenching sensation in his abdomen and groaned as it lingered with gruesome clarity.

Suga was completely befuddled by the girl’s change in bodily responses as a whole as of late. In fact, it was sometimes even alarming. During work he’d suddenly be attacked by the pangs mercilessly, however the blows were short-lived. Over the past week he was certain it had gotten worse. The overall tender state of his body was alarming somewhat, however he refused to mention it to Momoe, knowing the girl would probably go bananas over something that could possibly turn out to be nothing at all serious…

Or at least he hoped it wasn’t. ‘Ow…’

He groaned, burying his face in the pillow beside the notepad and remained still, waiting for the pain to subside. Yet when a few minutes had passed and nothing changed, Suga began to worry. He writhed in bed, flexing every possible muscle within him to perhaps ease the burning pain that now travelled from his abdomen to his thighs.

Suga panicked. Something was wrong. Something was horribly wrong with the girl’s body, and he had no doubt about it when the pain this time didn’t seem intent on leaving. He reached for the phone, dialed in his number and the moment before ringing, the phone screen went blank.

‘Oh, come on…!’ he cried, whacking the device against his hands a few times, but the only response it gave was a reboot… followed by another, and another, and another. Curse the girl’s phone!

Suga groaned in pain and frustration, throwing the phone aside as it clattered over the end table, and sat up slowly in bed with some difficulty. The action somewhat alleviated the pain just a little, but the toll it had on his back was worse than he imagined. His arms and back muscles throbbed in pain, and combined with the squeezing in his abdomen and thighs, he was afraid he would pass out any minute now from the bombarding agony.

‘A-aspirin…,’ he mumbled to himself; eyebrows furrowed deeply and teeth clenched. ‘Aspirin should do the trick.’

After a brief moment of considering making it to the kitchen for the medication, Suga stood up slowly… and thereafter instantly regretted doing so.

An incredibly foreign, however distressing sensation greeted him in his lower half as he stood, and he immediately cringed with disgust more than anything. He had no idea what it was, but he had an awful feeling that something was coming out of the girl’s body from below.

Oh my God, this CANNOT be happening.

If Suga imagined swapping bodies with the girl let him completely flabbergasted, the shock he felt as the girl’s body seeming produced something from below enticed a heart attack. He was so afraid to investigate just what the awful sensation was, that he simply stood petrified in the bedroom. The only thing going through his mind was getting in touch with the girl and finding out what in the bloody hell was wrong with her body that she hadn’t mentioned before, but all he knew was that he couldn’t move a muscle…

Until of course, he saw blood trickle down his leg. And his shock transformed into horror. He stood stunned for a moment at the alarming sight of blood, and feeling a sickly lump rise up his throat, dashed for the bathroom in overwhelming panic. He was bombarded by a flurry of mixed emotions; things ranging from anger at the girl for neglecting to mention something as serious as a medical problem, to concern for himself, to possible death, and lastly but most pressing of all, finding Momoe.

He steeled himself after a long moment of taking in the reality of his situation, and breathing in and out calmly, headed for the front door. Holy… am I going to die? He didn’t know how much longer he had considering he was bleeding from you-know-where, and beyond worried for his fate, grabbed his coat from the rack and stepped out, braving the weather as he raced to Taehyung’s place in complete panic.

Jin stared at me so intently I swear it looked as if he were about ready to diagnose me with some life-threatening disease. I held his gaze though, sick and tired of the little riddle he set out to solve himself while I sat back and watched stupidly, but his next words completely threw me off.

‘Yunji…,’ he paused, as if considering his next words. ‘Is here.’

I stared at him blankly for a long moment thereafter. ‘What…?’

Jin’s eyes however, were unmoving. He looked and sounded so convincing that even if he told me aliens were at the front door, I’d find it difficult to laugh off the claim… but I laughed anyway. I laughed with incredible anxiety, waiting for the moment the older boy would catch on and then flick his wrist at me playfully when I caught on to the joke, but when he didn’t, my face twisted in sheer horror.

‘How… how is that possible…?’ I asked, wiping the sweat on my forehead with the back of my hand, confused and afraid. ‘I thought she’s—’

‘To Yoongi, she is,’ Jin cut me off; beads of sweat now visible on his temples as well as he tore his eyes away from my desperately searching ones.

‘But there’s a lot more to the accident than that. Did he mention anything about Yunji’s hospitalization…?’

I stared at Jin feeling a mini panic attack coming on as I searched my brain for the memory of Suga’s story, but to no avail. ‘N-no, he didn’t. So I just assumed she—you know…’

Jin got up from Taehyung’s side of the bed and ambled over a chair in the corner of the room. I watched him like he was some escaped zoo animal, completely at a loss for what to expect next. What did he possibly mean by more to the accident…? I was incredibly spooked out hearing from him that Yunji – a dead person, according to Suga – was present at the Christmas Eve bash, but Jin’s change in demeanor filled me with a dread beyond measure.

I thought I’d known everything there was to about Yunji… but the following things I heard from Jin proved me wrong.

‘I was a student at the time,’ he recalled, looking incredibly thoughtful as his eyes lingered on Taehyung who now flopped back on the bed at this point with flailing arms, completely oblivious to our conversation.

‘I took an extra psychology module for the sake of accumulating credits, and came across an interesting section on PTSD and the long-term effects it can have on an individual, both mental and physical. One of the manifestations being flashbacks of the said event, nightmares about it… sometimes even unnaturally increased stimuli, such as hypervigilance, anger, difficulty carrying out necessary tasks like falling asleep, etcetera…

‘And then we delved into the causes of PTSD, which is most commonly associated with traumatic events; mostly psyche-inflicting; that involve intense emotional shock, such as a car crash, being mugged, or being molested or abused. These are unwanted, unpleasant memories that have damaged a person psychologically.’

I stared at Jin completely bewildered by the information overload. My thoughts were in complete chaos already, and Jin’s explanations that seemingly led to nowhere began leading somewhere, alright—to a bloody migraine.

I pinched my temples with one hand and sighed irritably. Taehyung at this point seemed to have discovered yet another cheese puff in his hair, and began sniffing it absently.

‘OK, yeah, listen – Jin – that’s impressive and all, but what does any of this have to do with Yunji being alive?’ I gasped. ‘Wait, are you saying Yoongi’s got PTSD and is imagining her to be dead…!??’

Jin stared at his hands so intensely for a moment thereafter as he considered my question that I suddenly regretted asking what I did. Maybe it was best if I didn’t know, seeing how uncomfortably serious the topic made him. In fact, everything about Suga’s past lover just seemed like an unauthorized zone with yellow police tape and flashing patrol vehicle lights from the start. I was afraid of knowing, but I couldn’t contain my curiosity well enough… and the fact that this all somehow seemed to be leading to some psychological mess worried me like you cannot believe.

‘It’s a clinical condition called repressed memory syndrome, and it isn’t him…,’ he mumbled. ‘Yunji’s the one who lost her memories of the time she was with Yoongi entirely upon consciousness.’

The sudden realization hit me like a tidal wave. I had always wondered why the chap just suddenly separated himself from her after the accident, but automatically imagined it was because of her sudden death after her hospitalization. It wasn’t surprising when I reasoned it like that, yet Jin’s new explanation of what really transpired at the time was like a blow to the gut.

‘God…’ I whispered, genuinely taken aback by the magnitude of Suga’s situation.

‘So you’re saying… the event was so traumatic for her that her mind suppressed the memories of that time? Does she not remember him at all? … Hold on, did she come to the party because she doesn’t remember anything of back then?’

Jin threw me a somber look along with a weak nod of the head, and I slid off the bed, grumbling. Talk about information overload! My head span with the amount of realizations Jin suddenly bombarded me with, and I paced the length of the room, desperately trying to compose all this neatly for future reference.

So Yunji wasn’t dead? She was alive with no memories of Suga whatsoever? Was she stable? I stopped in my tracks for a moment. What if she saw me, in Suga’s body, and that triggered some awful string of events? Would Suga ever forgive me? More importantly, am I trapped in this room with these two because she’s there?

‘YAH!’ I yanked at my hair with frustration, digging in my coat pocket for my phone. ‘This is nuts, I tell you…! Nuts!’

‘I agree,’ Jin sighed; his eyes lingering absently on Taehyung who now ate the cheese puff and had an incredibly thoughtfu