“He was lucky he fell on his legs from that building. Otherwise—he’s fine, really. The blood loss was major, but he’ll live. He’s just… I don’t know what state he’s in. He refuses everything. You’re our only hope left, Mr. Park.” The doctor said—in a very straight voice. Chanyeol, who had been his breath nervously, let out a loud exhale, clutching his chest, Junmyeon patting his back.

“Thank---Thank god, Thank god, I—“ Chanyeol gasped, entirely in relief. He had been so uptight—it was weeks’ worth of waiting before he could even see Baekhyun; and it was a nerve-wracking week. It was insanity; watching the boy fall and crumple on his knees that day—

“M-May—May I see him?”
“Of course.”

Chanyeol nodded and gulped, thanking him. He turned around to Junmyeon; who just stood rigid next to him, his arms crossed across his chest.

“You coming?”
“No, I’m fine—I’ll stay here.” Junmyeon said, paling. Chanyeol understood—Tao was killed. And even though Baekhyun did not know what he was doing, it was rather weird to greet the murderer. Junmyeon saw Tao dead, and saw Baekhyun falling off a building—in its extremities, it was enough to make anyone jittery and nauseous. Chanyeol understood.

Chanyeol nodded respectfully, before his hands enclosed on the door handle. in a deep breath, he opened the door.

Surely enough—the boy was there, sitting peacefully on the bed, propped up with pillows. Bandages wound his head and his stomach, and he held a book in his hands, scribbling away quite happily inside the texts with crayons—presumably given by the hospital. His eyes were bright and his tongue stuck out in concentration as he aimlessly coloured in every paragraph with orange with his clumsy hands.

Thank god.

“Hey, Baekhyun.” Chanyeol smiled through his pricked eyes, hovering over Baekhyun’s figure.

But when Baekhyun turned his head around to face him—he wasn’t greeted with a smile, or a hug.

Instead, he screamed.

“W-Wait—Baekhyun?!” Chanyeol jittered, shocked. But Baekhyun was screaming agitatedly at the sight of his face, right on top of his throat—before he was throwing crayons at Chanyeol, reaching for the nearby flower vase and throwing it at him (though luckily it hit the wall). Chanyeol thought he was just playing up—but Baekhyun’s eyes resembled struck-dumb fear, and he was actually ultimately scared of Chanyeol.

“I—I don’t understand! It’s me, Baekhyun—Park Chanyeol, remember?” Chanyeol said, pointing to his chest. But Baekhyun was hissing and shouting at him, and was currently attempting to throw punches at him—albeit, he failed.

But it seems like Baekhyun doesn’t remember him at all. He kept on screaming—and other nurses started to burst in through the door, and Chanyeol was kicked out of the room for ‘agitating’ their patient. Chanyeol stumbled out of the door, Junmyeon’s eyes wide with surprise—and the previous doctor apparently quite shocked, too.

“What the hell happened?” Junmyeon frowned.

“I—I don’t know. I don’t know what the hell happened.” Chanyeol said. “I—I just greeted him—and he just started screaming—it’s like he doesn’t even remember me—“

He stopped.

“He… He doesn’t remember me.” Chanyeol whispered. He gasped and turned to the doctor.

“He—did he have any brain damage of some sort?” Chanyeol choked out. The doctor, seemingly panicked, returned with an answer that Chanyeol does not like the answer of.

“I—It’s very difficult to determine if he does. He can do a scan of his head, but it’ll be hard to determine if his brain actually suffers from memory loss, and it’s difficult to assess him for any head damage because of his… well, his circumstances.”

“No—No, it can’t be.” Chanyeol breathed out. Any excitement he had pounding through his temples now reduced to absolute pa