I jolt awake. I look around. White walls, white sheets. I’m in a hospital bed. I move to stand up and find that there are too many needles attached to me. I growl softly.

“Yoongi!” a familiar voice cries. I turn towards the voice. Taehyung is standing in the doorway with tears in his eyes. His face still has a few bandages from the accident. “Yoongi, you’re awake! I thought… I thought…” He starts to sniffle. Tears shimmer in his eyes. I turn away. “Yoongi…” I feel warm arms wrap around me. I stiffen. Taehyung only hugs tighter.

“Dad liked chocolate-covered Belgian waffles.” Taehyung’s breath hitches. “Mom liked strawberry jam cookies. Jiminie liked mint chocolate chip ice cream. Hobi loved strawberries.” I hesitate. “Jin liked sugar cookies.” I pause for a moment. Taehyung is holding his breath. “Tae loved chocolate cookies.” I feel Taehyung’s soft breath against my ear.

“Yoongi loved red velvet cupcakes,” Taehyung whispers. I wince. He pulls away to look at me. I don’t meet his eyes. I can’t meet his eyes.

Taehyung keeps holding me until a nurse walks in. Taehyung lets go of me and backs away. The nurse checks everything, then steps out to speak with Taehyung. I raise an eyebrow at Taehyung. He doesn’t look at me.

When he comes back, he tells me we can go. I’m out of immediate danger, I suppose. I walk out of the hospital, and I blink in surprise. “J-Joonie?” I stammer. Namjoon smiles hesitantly at me.

“Taehyung called me to bring you to the hospital. He wasn’t sure that he could bring you here safely,” he says. I nod. He hesitates. “Do… do you blame me?” I don’t respond. Namjoon looks down. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. I glimpse tears on his face.

I reach out and touch his shoulder gently. He looks up at me, and I smile hesitantly. It’s a little forced, but it’s a smile.

It feels… unfamiliar.

Namjoon drives Taehyung and I back to the apartment, and I look at the piano. For a long time. I just stare at the piano. I walk to the piano.

Yoongi…

I lift the cover off the piano.

Yoongi…

I open the lid.

Yoongi… it isn’t your fault.

I run my fingers gently over the keys.

Yoongi… don’t blame yourself.

I play.

Not for your mother’s death.

Note after note after sweet note.

Not for Jimin’s death.

I forget my surroundings.

Not for Hoseok’s death.

All I hear is the sweet sound of the piano.

Not for my death.

I lose myself in the music.

None of it was your fault.

There are a million colors in these black and white keys… and I’ve found them again. The colors of the song fill the air around me.

I’ll be fine.