Junsu casts his gaze elsewhere when Jungkook pins him down with quiet uncertainty; perhaps, if it means finding fragments of memories they shared. Waiting. Staying. He wonders if he should’ve long grown out of such warmth. But he finds Jungkook’s eyes again eventually.
“Ah—” Junsu’s hand slips off the table in defeat. Tonight Jungkook shows Junsu what it means to forget. His fingers twitch in his lap. He fails to find an answer to Jungkook’s question; about whether he’s ever felt the loss of loving someone forgotten, or the loss of being loved by someone forgotten.
Except there are many ways of forgetting. And Junsu’s anguish lies in the dying memories he has of his mother—a woman he loves but can’t quite remember. Every thought of her dissolves. Even her loud, hot-headed voice is only a haunting echo in the back of his head. She must be older now, waiting for him back in Busan. She must be washing cabbage both rough and gentle at the same time, caressing each leaf in ways only a mother knows. She must be bargaining in the market with their neighbours for fresh fruit, one hand lifting her long skirt in the slightest to keep it safe from dirt as she walks.
Junsu laughs fondly. But it’s silent. A slight pain seizes his chest. His mother must be dead now, waiting for him back in Busan.
“No,” Junsu says, “I wouldn’t say we were friends.” He’s caught on a one-way street; in which all the memories are in Jungkook’s eyes, reflecting, yet Junsu is the only one who can see. “We were classmates.”
Memories have expiry dates, it seems.
“I don’t think you knew I existed.” Junsu smiles, “Except, I was involved in your world as much as you weren’t involved in mine. I guess it made sense, since you were always quiet, usually alone, I think.” His tea waits. Junsu finds himself lost in the timeline inside his head. He frowns, scratching the side of his neck as if it’ll draw out his words. “Let me know if I’m not making sense.”
“Where do you live? Let me take you home. I promise—” Junsu swallowed, one hand trembling against Jungkook’s shoulders. “It’ll be alright. I promise.” His nerves broke him down in strained laughter. “Haven’t you heard? I don’t break my promises. I’ll never—” Thunder tore the sky with a loud, terrifying snap. It took hours for Junsu to make them both feel safe again. It was their beginning and their end.
Junsu pulls up his sleeve, struggling to fold it. He stares at his palm for a moment, hesitating, before he leans into the table and pushes his hand out for Jungkook to see. A short, clean gash runs up from the end of Junsu’s palm to his thumb. He tilts his head, inspecting it himself. His lips quirk, almost bitter. “I never found out why you were in such a mess. No one ever bothered you.”
It was an unforgiving afternoon.
“I can’t remember…” Junsu swallows. He finally takes a sip of his tea. “I can’t remember how I found you. I just did. And they only pulled a knife when I came around. I guess they knew it was over.” Junsu draws himself away again. “It was just a pocket-knife, and we were all just kids. I’ll spare you the details. But that’s when you’re the most vicious, you know? When you’re a kid. The world is yours. I’ll never forgive them, though. I’ll never forget them either.”
He laughs, light-hearted. “And then you disappeared.”
the wide beams from the setting sun has started to thin to threads. night comes early during winter, but it’s unable to completely drown the city due to its lights; the city lights are just as restless and ambitious just like its inhabitants.
“classmates...” jungkook echoes quietly. it must have been about 10 years ago, then.
jungkook doesn’t move save for his gaze as it travels from junsu’s face to his hand. the softness in his face fade into something unreadable as he slips into quiet, allowing the sound of the rain outside to fill his silence like pouring water into a cup. “...you were hurt because you tried to help me.” he sounds sad rather than thankful, his eyes dropping down to his lap almost as if he’s ashamed of himself. he recalls the fight, he had a smaller frame back then, unable to defend himself. junsu was almost a ghost, a sudden shift of direction of the wind.
being quiet and shy towards attention made him an easy target. he hasn’t spoken to anyone enough to show any quirks that his classmates to pick on, perhaps those boys knew by instinct that he wouldn’t fight back, like how lion cubs know which animal to prey on. being alive could have been the only reason to be cornered in an empty alley.
“i never found out either.”
junsu either likes to remember, or hates to forget. jungkook doesn’t hold any grudges towards those boys. “was the world yours too, when you were younger?”
because it’s never been his own. time and the sky above him included.
“i don’t say goodbyes, i just tend to fade out of people’s lives naturally.” he’s never thought about it before, and jungkook feels the weight of remorse growing inside him. yet it doesn’t bother him too much, he must have accepted it a long time ago. dawn will pass and the sun will rise, yet no day will be the same and retrievable. “you could ask why, but i don’t have any particular answer for it either. i love to love and i’m no stranger to farewells.” jungkook thinks he’s not destined to last in anyone’s life in exchange for his immortality. it’s only fair, he supposes. it balances everything out, whether he likes it or not.
jungkook refills junsu’s cup despite that it’s not yet empty. “i remember your name now. lee junsu, right?” he remembers reading the name badge on his uniform as junsu held him by his arms. he remembers noticing how one arm felt warmer than the other, now he knows that it was the blood. jungkook grimaces.
“one day after the incident i left for japan to visit old friends. i didn’t stay for too long, but when i came back, everyone had already graduated and had left the city.” he didn’t try looking for anyone, however. especially not junsu. he’s not so sorry about it as he should be, as he’s sitting in front of him now. “it took about 10 years to bring us back together, and you helped me the second time. isn’t it funny how things work? three times a coincidence means it’s fate, so i wonder if there’ll be a third time.”
they weren’t friends, but they could be now, if junsu wanted. “what happened to you, after everything? what kept your good heart unchanged?”