all the things we never said
chapter 10: what went unnoticed
genre: coming-of-age, mystery, slice-of-life, drama, slow burn, high-school romance, youth
chapter summary: as the mystery behind the anonymous letters deepens, forgotten memories begin resurfacing one by one. what seems like a simple search for a hidden author at first slowly becomes a journey back through childhood memories.
author’s note: i had to photoshop the picture on the right HAHAHA but whatever cuz #creativity :P
“…is that it?” juntae asked, sounding slightly puzzled.
“…yeah,” sieun replied quietly, lowering the letter as his thoughts began arranging themselves.
while the others immediately started throwing out theories, one after another, sieun barely registered any of them. to him, none of them quite fit.
instead, his mind drifted back to the letters they’d already found.
don’t let chance decide whether you’ll act or not…
you find pieces of yourself in other people without even realizing it…
not just in the handwriting.
not just in where the letters had been hidden.
somehow, they all seemed connected.
the friend group had already figured out that the letters followed a pattern.
what they hadn’t figured out…
was what that pattern was trying to tell them.
maybe they’d overlooked something entirely.
something hidden in plain sight.
that none of them had thought to question it.
“here, give it,” gotak muttered, already prying the letter out of baku’s hands.
“no way! i haven’t even read it yet!” baku shot back, stubbornly tightening his grip.
before long, the two of them were practically playing tug-of-war with the poor sheet of paper while juntae stood helplessly between them, repeatedly reminding them that it was old enough to tear.
“can you two be any more careful?” suho sighed, folding his arms across his chest. “it’s a letter, not a rope.”
“then at least let me read it,” gotak huffed.
that was enough to convince baku.
“…fine,” he grumbled at last, loosening his grip in an unspoken truce.
gotak let out a breath that sounded equally relieved and exhausted before smoothing the paper flat.
“…people keep telling me i’m brave…”
the words settled quietly between them.
sieun hadn’t even realized he’d stopped listening to everything else.
people keep telling me i’m brave…
something quietly clicked, like pieces of a puzzle falling into place.
it was back in elementary school.
the afternoon sun hung high above the playground, spilling bright streaks of gold and white across the grass, the swings, and the worn jungle gym. every gust of wind carried the distant laughter of children, sneakers thudding softly against the grass until the sounds blurred together into mere background noise.
younger sieun sat alone on one of the swings, idly nudging pebbles beneath the toes of his shoes as he rocked back and forth. from where he sat, his attention focused on the crowd gathered near the center of the playground.
right in the center of it was suho.
he stood with his fists clenched at his sides, breathing hard as he faced another boy about their age.
from this far away, sieun couldn’t make out much. the circle of students blocked most of his view, leaving only a narrow gap between shoulders and uniforms—just enough for him to catch glimpses of what was happening.
bits and pieces of conversation drifted over.
apparently, the other boy had been picking on one of suho’s younger friends for weeks.
hiding his books whenever he refused.
suho had finally had enough.
if there was one thing suho hated more than tomatoes…
and if one of his friends was involved…
then, before he knew it, so was he.
the boy cried out as suho grabbed him by the collar and shoved him onto the dirt. white uniforms turned dirt brown almost instantly, dust whirling around the two of them as they struggled.
“say you’re sorry!” suho shouted, pinning the boy down with both knees. “right now!”
“okay! okay!” the boy sputtered, wincing. “i’m sorry! i’m sorry to suho’s friend!”
almost immediately, the crowd erupted.
younger sieun remained exactly where he was.
he didn’t cheer. he didn’t applaud. instead, he let the swing rock gently beneath him.
around him, everyone celebrated.
but him? he simply watched as suho helped the young boy back onto his feet.
that really was the right word.
the library came back into focus, the memory fading away as quickly as it came.
no one asked where gotak had gone just then.
because they’d all been somewhere else too.
the letter remained open between them, untouched.
gotak stared down at the letter, his brows drawn together as though he’d only just connected the memory to the words on the page.
gotak lifted one shoulder in a lazy shrug.
“what i’m trying to say is that suho’s always been like that.”
baku lifted one brow, “like what?”
“brave.” gotak answered smoothly.
“…he was always getting into fights for other people.”
beside him, juntae quietly agreed.
“yeah… he never really cared if he got hurt.”
suho blinked at his unusually quiet friends before taking an unconscious step back, more out of surprise than anything else.
“…who are we talking about?”
everyone—except sieun—slowly turned toward him.
even they looked like they couldn’t believe he still hadn’t figured it out.
“…you,” gotak said flatly. “who else?”
suho let out a disbelieving scoff, shaking his head as his gaze dropped to the floor before lifting again.
“…are you guys being serious right now?”
another short laugh escaped him.
“anyone can be brave. anyone can get into a fight. anyone can—”
baku held up a finger with absolutely zero hesitation.
“let our thoughts flow…” he said solemnly.
then, after a dramatic pause—
satisfied with himself, he looked around the group, waiting for someone—anyone—to laugh.
“…no?” baku asked hopefully.
“…and here i was thinking at least one of you would’ve found that funny.”
while the others were distracted by baku’s unsuccessful joke, sieun never once looked away from the letter. his eyes stayed fixed on it as his thumb idly traced one of its creases, the movement entirely subconscious.
“…i don’t think that’s what’s important.”
“…what do you mean?” juntae asked.
sieun gave a small shake of his head, as though dismissing the thought before it had the chance to settle.
his finger slowly drifted farther down the page until it came to rest beneath the final lines.
almost instinctively, everyone followed the direction of his finger.
once again, their eyes landed on the last few sentences.
telling this one person how i truly feel…
scares me more than anything else.
gotak dragged both hands through his hair, leaving it noticeably messier than before.
“this is so frustrating!”
“…who’s this one person?”
nobody really had an answer to that because…
that was the one question they’ve been trying to solve since the very beginning of this untold mystery.
“actually…” juntae broke the silence.
“…they kinda remind me of something.”
something in juntae’s words pulled another memory to the surface.
the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.
was completely different.
their first sleepover together.
they’d managed to convince sieun to come.
to this day, everyone agreed that persuading sieun had been harder than convincing their own parents.
the sleepover had been planned for weeks.
gotak swore it’d be the best night of their lives.
suho wouldn’t stop talking about the new games he’d been saving to play with everyone.
baku insisted that a sleepover wasn’t a real sleepover unless they did something completely ridiculous.
juntae was more excited about roasting marshmallows in the backyard than anything else.
they’d spent days hyping it up.
none of it had been an exaggeration.
it really had been one of their best nights.
by the time the memory settled, it was already a little past midnight.
sieun remembered that part strangely well.
back then, staying awake past his bedtime felt like attempting the impossible.
midnight barely meant anything.
but younger sieun had been fighting sleep with everything he had.
eventually, someone—probably baku—declared they should play truth or dare.
without missing a beat, baku dug through his backpack, triumphantly pulling out a pencil that looked as though it’d survived several school years and far too much chewing.
he dropped it into the middle of the circle they’d made.
“whoever the tip lands on gets asked truth or dare.”
he pointed proudly at himself.
“…we’ll take turns after that.”
before anyone could object…
baku gave the pencil an enthusiastic spin, putting far more force into it than necessary.
it whirled across the floor.
until it finally stopped.
suho let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.
it escaped in one long huff, puffing his cheeks just enough for the air to lift the loose strands of hair hanging over his forehead before they settled back into place.
he straightened almost immediately.
“i’m ready for whatever you’ve got!” he declared, pointing dramatically around the circle. “bring it on, suckers!”
…perhaps a little too dramatically.
a few snorts circled the room.
everyone knew suho well enough to see right through his act.
he always got louder whenever he was trying to convince himself he wasn’t nervous.
the corner of his mouth lifted ever so slightly before disappearing just as quickly.
“that’s the spirit!” gotak laughed.
baku inhaled deeply through his nose, puffing out his chest as though he were about to announce the winning lottery numbers.
the answer came without a second’s hesitation.
baku had expected exactly that.
suho would’ve picked dare every single time.
he liked everyone to think he was.
which was exactly why baku had prepared for this.
a grin slowly spread across his face.
“…to tell us who you like in our class.”
so quickly that even suho seemed to feel it happen.
he opened his mouth, already searching for a way out.
baku pointed at him before a single word could leave his mouth.
“we already know it’s someone in our class.”
“so don’t bother denying it, ahn suho.”
for the first time that night…
his throat felt weirdly dry.
his eyes flickered around the circle, meeting four pairs of expectant eyes before darting away again.
then forced out a laugh that sounded just a little too quick.
“i don’t like anybody, you morons.”
baku protested so quickly it almost overlapped with the end of suho’s sentence.
“that was immediate,” gotak mumbled.
“because it’s obvious!” baku snapped, pointing an accusing finger at suho.
“oh? and what’s so obvious?” suho shot back.
“that you’re lying, duh!” baku argued.
before either of them could permanently damage everyone’s eardrums, gotak stepped between them, spreading both arms wide enough to keep the two an arm’s length apart.
suho immediately folded his arms, cheeks puffing as he let out a long, dramatic huff—the same thing he always did whenever he got too flustered to think straight.
“there’s only one way to settle this,” gotak declared.
“…there is?” baku blinked.
while the others looked at gotak, waiting for whatever brilliant idea he’d come up with, sieun’s attention quietly drifted elsewhere.
he studied him for a moment.
the way he kept avoiding everyone’s gaze.
who was he thinking about?
“you don’t have to tell us who.”
juntae smiled to himself, the kind of smile that usually meant he was either about to keep the peace…
or make things considerably more interesting.
suho actually gave it some thought.
nothing that could possibly give them away.
the room fell quiet almost instantly.
even juntae found himself inching a little closer.
only sieun remained where he was, quietly watching.
his mind went completely blank.
his fingers drifted to his cheek, scratching it absentmindedly as he searched for something—anything—vague enough to be safe.
backing out now would only make them more suspicious.
“…they listen really well.”
by the time the words left his mouth, they sounded far more breathless than he’d intended.
the room went dead quiet for a moment.
he shot up to his feet so abruptly that the deck of cards beside him scattered across the floor.
“…stop making this weird,” suho groaned, dragging a hand down his face.
gotak leaned over with a grin before nudging him with an elbow.
“ouhh… our little suho isn’t so little anymore, huh?”
a few quiet laughs circled the room.
almost without thinking, suho’s gaze drifted toward sieun.
so brief that even he couldn’t tell whether he’d meant to do it.
sieun sat criss-cross on the floor, his fingers lingering over the cards that slid in front of him. while the others continued bickering, he quietly gathered them into a neat stack, his attention seemingly absorbed by the mindless task.
the words slipped out so softly they barely reached anyone else.
they were never meant for anyone else to hear.
before his thoughts could wander any farther, the library came back into focus.
whatever had been waiting at the end of those memories vanished before it could reveal itself.
it was unsettling, to say the least.
every time he felt himself inching closer to the truth, it dissolved without warning—slipping through his fingers just as he reached for it.
it was as though every word were bait, luring another memory to the surface.
hovering just beneath the surface, close enough to sense…
but never close enough to actually grasp.
“…this is getting weird,” baku muttered, being the first one to break the still silence.
surprisingly, for the first time ever, no one seemed to disagree or object.
gotak studied the letter still sitting between them, his brows furrowed with concentration.
“…everytime we read a certain sentence in the letter…”
“…we remember something.”
“not just one of us,” juntae chimed in softly.
suho clicked his tongue quietly, letting out a long, defeated sigh as he leaned back against one of the bookshelves lining the wall.
he let the words hang for a moment before shaking his head.
“why can’t i remember any of this on my own?”
“…am i seriously that forgetful?”
a faint, humorless laugh escaped him. his head dipped briefly, finding amusement in the thought more than anyone else, before the smile faded just as quickly.
around him, the room fell utterly still.
how were the letters able to pull memories back so effortlessly…
memories he’d buried so deeply that he hadn’t even known they were still there?
how did the author know about all of them?
they couldn’t have written about those moments…
unless they’d been there to witness them.
for the meanwhile, they let the silence hang over the room.
the kind that settles whenever something is just about to fall into place.
the possibility that the author knew one of them—or perhaps all of them personally—crossed every one of their minds.
the author had been there.
in every one of those moments they shared.
they hadn’t simply heard about these memories.
they had lived through them as well.
baku said, already pacing back and forth between where the rest of them stood.
every time he passed one of them, whoever happened to be closest could hear him muttering to himself under his breath, words too quiet to make out, until he finally came to a stop near the corner of the shelves.
“let’s brainstorm real quick.”
“…if the letters are talking about past memories, then surely whoever wrote them had to be there during those moments, right?”
“it can’t be just some random person,” gotak offered, his guess earning a few quiet nods around him.
“otherwise, how would they know all of this?”
“and they definitely wouldn’t remember elementary school,” juntae added.
“unless they’re older than us,” suho argued.
“but then why would they—”
“no.” sieun cut in before he could finish.
he dismissed the thought with a small shake of his head, already crossing the possibility off in his mind.
“that can’t be it. we never had an older friend.”
baku nodded slowly, lifting his gaze toward the rest of them.
“he’s right. it’s always just been the five of us.”
suho rested both hands on his hips, leaning forward before he even realized he was doing it.
“then are you sure this wasn’t written by some middle schoolers who just wanted to mess with us?”
he held the letter up for everyone to see.
this time, sieun answered almost immediately.
“that’s nearly impossible.”
“yeah,” gotak agreed. “what sieun said.”
“even if it were a prank, they couldn’t have known details like these.”
with the whole friend group still caught in suspense, sieun’s gaze wandered around the aisle, almost as if he were already searching for the one clue they somehow missed.
naturally, the letter still resting in suho’s hand caught his attention.
“let me see that for a second.”
before suho could respond, sieun had already slipped the letter from his hand.
his eyes immediately settled on the more subtle details everyone else had, without a doubt, overlooked.
the kind of paper that was being used.
the pressure behind each stroke of the pen.
every tiny detail was examined with careful precision.
“…there’s something else.”
everyone’s attention shifted back to him.
almost instinctively, the others leaned in.
“this isn’t just any paper.”
his finger traced the worn edge before sliding toward the top corner.
“it’s been ripped out of a notebook.”
“like what you pointed out last time?” suho asked, careful not to interrupt the train of thought slowly taking its form.
his thumb moved farther across the page.
“the paper still has the library’s address.”
“meaning the notebook came from here.”
“the library used to leave these notebooks out front for anyone to take.”
“…during that reading festival? the one that only lasted a week?”
“wow…” baku muttered under his breath.
“whoever wrote this is really something, huh…”
suho looked down at the letter again, slowly piecing everything together.
“…so, if i’m following this right…”
“…the author used to come to this library.”
“and they were here during the reading festival…”
“…and they took one of those notebooks.”
juntae cut in, his voice quiet but enough to stop the conversation in its tracks.
“…what if the notebook is still here?”
“…no way.” gotak blinked.
another silence settled over them.
“that’s not crazy to think that,” suho murmured, almost to himself.
“JUNTAE, YOU’RE A GENIUS!”
baku burst into applause, completely forgetting they were in a library the very second the words left his mouth.
beside him, gotak visibly flinched.
he was convinced his eardrums had just filed for resignation.
“will you keep it down?” he hissed, his whisper cutting through the silence even harsher than a yell.
baku clamped both hands over his mouth in an instant.
gotak let out a weary sigh, looking every bit like a tired parent trying to deal with their very stubborn child.
“seriously…” he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “have you already forgotten we’re in a library, or did that fly over your head too?”
a choked laugh escaped suho before he could stop it. he quickly disguised it behind a cough against his fist, though the grin tugging at the corner of his mouth gave him away almost immediately.
while the three of them were busy making a scene, sieun and juntae had already gone back to treating the mystery like an actual investigation.
“…that’s not a bad idea,” sieun murmured, his voice barely rising above the silence of the library.
the second sieun made it clear that he was being a hundred percent serious about this, something in suho clicked.
and just like that, he wanted to be serious too.
“guys, listen up.” he turned toward the others before nodding his chin in sieun’s direction.
“sieun has something to say.”
the way he said it—so casual, so… suho—was somehow infinitely more effective than if he’d actually scolded them.
“so… what were you saying, sieun?”
gosh. the irony, am i right?
sieun looked up at him, his gaze lingering for just a fraction longer than usual before drifting past suho toward the three standing behind him.
“i think we should investigate… try to figure out where the notebook might be.”
suho clapped his hands once, the sharp sound echoing softly through the aisle before pointing at the rest of them.
baku and gotak looked at each other for exactly two seconds.
the knowing glint in their eyes, the identical grin tugging at the corners of their mouths—neither of them could hide it.
they turned back to suho in perfect sync.
beside them, juntae exchanged one brief look with sieun before letting out an awkward laugh.
“…i’ll leave you two to it.”
and just like that, he hurried over to join baku and gotak—a little too quickly, a little too eagerly, almost as though he wanted absolutely nothing to do with whatever was happening here.
before long, the other three had already wandered off into different parts of the library, leaving the two of them behind.
sieun turned back toward the shelves, ready to continue searching for the missing notebook.
he barely managed a single step.
something—or rather, someone—caught his wrist just on time.
he glanced over his shoulder.
suho stood there as if nothing were out of the ordinary, absentmindedly holding onto the sleeve of sieun’s hoodie between his thumb and forefinger.
just enough to stop him from walking away.
sieun didn’t answer right away.
nothing about him gave anything away.
his expression remained the same as always—calm, unreadable, those quiet doe eyes fixed on suho as though waiting for him to continue.
“…do you really think we’ll find the author?”
he made no attempt to pull away from suho’s gentle hold.
if it had been anyone else, he would’ve already stepped back.
suho let out a quiet breath.
only then did he let go of sieun’s sleeve.
without a second’s hesitation, his hands retreated into the pockets of his windbreaker, as if he’d only just become aware of how long he’d been holding onto him.
his gaze drifted toward the rows of books before settling somewhere ahead.
“that’s the only reason i’m putting up with baku and gotak’s nonsense.”
a tiny smile tugged at one corner of his mouth.
something in suho’s chest tightened so quietly that he almost convinced himself he hadn’t felt it at all.
he swallowed before the feeling had the chance to settle any deeper.
sieun and suho went on their way, their minds fixed on one single goal:
solve the mystery once and for all.
while baku, gotak, and juntae searched the library in their own loud—and not particularly efficient—way, sieun and suho naturally gravitated toward the opposite approach.
they worked in silence, hoping to leave the library with more answers than questions.
every secluded corner they could think to check.
until only one place remained.
the very back corner of the library.
hardly anyone ever wandered there. rumor had it that the forgotten corner held secrets no one had ever intended to uncover.
fortunately for the both of them…
that was exactly what they were looking for.
“…it’s dusty back here,” suho observed, lowering his voice instinctively.
“…it is,” sieun replied, just as softly—if not softer.
his eyes swept over the neglected corner, lingering on shelves draped with spiderwebs and dust.
no matter how ordinary it looked.
because if the past few days had taught him anything…
it was that the most ordinary-looking things often hid the biggest secrets.
he searched and searched.
a worn cardboard box caught sieun’s attention.
the name had barely left his lips before suho was already beside him, the distance between them disappearing before either of them noticed it.
sieun glanced at him before lowering his gaze back to the box sitting quietly on the floor.
it was tucked so neatly into the corner that anyone could’ve walked past it without a second thought.
with careful hands, sieun crouched down and lifted it from the floor.
he held it between himself and suho, the worn box resting in the small space separating them.
it wasn’t long before the remaining three found their way into the secluded corner of the library.
“we didn’t find—” gotak grumbled as he wandered over, only for the rest of the sentence to die on his tongue the moment his eyes landed on the box in sieun’s hands.
baku and juntae followed his finger, their attention settling on the same worn box.
suho took a small step back, quietly making room for the others.
once everyone was all there, that was when sieun carefully lifted the cover.
it slid free with effortless ease, smooth enough to tell him the box had been handled with remarkable care.
they found exactly what they had been searching for.
suho’s brows slowly knit together, as though something had finally clicked into place.
gotak’s eyes widened, if only by a fraction.
baku sucked in a sharp breath before immediately clapping a hand over his mouth—then another over the first, just to make absolutely sure nothing loud escaped.
beside him, juntae could only stare, his lips parting slightly as though he still needed another second to convince himself this was real.
they had actually found it.
the notebook that could finally tell them who the author was.
the one behind every letter.
every clue that had led them here.
sieun’s gaze lingered on the worn cover for another moment before he carefully lifted the notebook from the box.
it felt almost impossibly ordinary in his hands.
his eyes moved around the small circle, meeting each of theirs in turn.
there wasn’t the slightest hint of doubt in his voice.
“…well?” suho broke the silence.
“what are you waiting for?” gotak asked, equal parts impatient and eager.
“open it,” suho urged, unable to hide his curiosity this time.
sieun gave a small nod before carefully flipping the notebook open.
the pages clung together ever so slightly, separating with a soft crinkle, but aside from that, the notebook had been preserved remarkably well.
the very first page held a letter.
all five of them fell quiet.
five pairs of eyes scanned the page, each taking in the words one line at a time.
silence settled over the small circle.
“…i have a feeling we were married in our past lives…”
sieun murmured, almost to himself as he read.
“…there’s absolutely no evidence to support this…”
juntae continued, his eyes following the next line.
suho and baku finished in perfect, accidental unison.
then slowly turned to look at each other.
the five of them exchanged glances before their attention slowly drifted back to the notebook.
“…huh.” gotak muttered, rubbing the back of his neck before giving a small shake of his head.
without another word, sieun carefully turned the page.
it was written in the same pen.
the same steady pressure behind every stroke.
everything was exactly the same.
it felt different, in a way.
if the person who i think it is is reading this…
i hope we’re still friends.
because i think i’d be okay if you never liked me back.
i just don’t think i’d survive losing you.
you don’t even have to love me back.
just let me love you, even if it means loving you from a distance.
not because they didn’t know what to say.
but because, for the first time since finding the notebook…
they weren’t just reading letters anymore.
they were reading someone’s heart.
confession by confession.
no one reached for the next page.
it felt wrong to rush it.
as though simply turning another page would be intruding on something deeply personal.
the notebook laid quietly between the five of them.
in the middle of the silence that had settled over the group, suho reached toward the notebook.
his hand lingered just above the pages.
for a moment, it looked as though he might turn it himself.
he drew it back, rubbing the back of his neck as a faint, conflicted look crossed his face.
for a heartbeat, his gaze left the notebook and settled on suho’s.
a silent question passed between them.
suho answered with the smallest of nods.
today someone else made him laugh.
and he never laughs at just anything.
so that means he probably found the joke funny enough to be worth laughing at.
i don’t think that’s a normal reaction.
hopefully i’m just being dramatic.
goal: make sieun laugh tomorrow.
baku blinked down at the notebook lying open in sieun’s hands.
his eyes skimmed over the page…
his gaze immediately snapped up.
“sieun, it has your name.”
he only looked down at the page.
written in someone else’s handwriting.
inside the very notebook they’d spent all this time searching for.
beside him, suho let out a quiet chuckle, trying to laugh off the strange weight settling stubbornly in his chest.
“…looks like someone had a crush on sieun…”
he nudged the thought away as quickly as he’d spoken it, disguising it as nothing more than a joke.
juntae glanced between the page and sieun before admitting,
“…i really want to know who had a crush on sieun.”
gotak smirked, folding his arms across his chest before giving a confident nod.
“…must’ve been handsome as hell.”
gotak had no idea he’d just dropped a bomb.
suho bit the inside of his cheek.
just enough to stop himself from reacting.
the agreement left his mouth almost automatically.
somehow, he couldn’t shake off the sudden hope that the mystery author had never actually confessed.
baku, of course, chose the absolute worst possible moment to insert himself.
“IT’S ABOUT TIME SIEUN HAS A SECRET ADMIRER!”
suho let out a scoff before he could stop himself, his expression hardening almost instinctively.
“secret admirer?” he echoed.
“this guy sounds more like a stalker to me.”
four pairs of eyes immediately swung toward him.
realizing—far too late—how that had come out, suho cleared his throat and waved a dismissive hand.
“just turn to the next page.”
the next page wasn’t any better.
today i teased sieunnie too much.
i don’t think he liked that.
he looked cute when he was annoyed th—
the sentence had been hastily scratched out, layer upon layer of pencil nearly tearing through the page itself. whoever wrote it had clearly regretted saying that.
it was still just barely readable.
gotak immediately snorted before clearing his throat.
i bought him strawberry milk to make him feel better.
while he was drinking it, he wouldn’t stop blowing bubbles through the straw.
why do i think blowing bubbles through a straw is cute?
is this what people mean when they talk about having a crush?
but i should probably make sure first.
the room fell perfectly still.
he slapped a hand over his mouth, his shoulders shaking so violently it looked painful.
“I SERIOUSLY CAN’T WITH THIS LETTER—”
he wheezed, doubling over before he could even finish the sentence.
gotak wasn’t doing much better.
he turned away, pinching the bridge of his nose in one last, desperate attempt to hold himself together, but the grin stretching across his face only grew wider.
“‘why do i think blowing bubbles is cute?’”
the image alone was enough to finish him.
he nearly folded in half beside baku, the two of them laughing so hard they could barely stay upright.
even juntae couldn’t quite hide his smile.
“give this guy a break,” he laughed quietly.
“he must’ve been completely head-over-heels for sieun.”
for the briefest moment, suho could’ve sworn he saw the tips of sieun’s ears tint ever so slightly.
that only made him sulk even harder.
with a quiet thump, he dropped onto a stack of heavy boxes before letting out a scoff.
for once, his mind came up completely blank, his usual quick tongue abandoning him at the worst possible moment.
“it’s not even that cute.”
suho’s sulky expression was the final straw.
the two collapsed against each other, clinging to one another’s shoulders just to keep from falling over as their laughter echoed through the aisle.
after what felt like forever, baku managed to suck in a proper breath.
he wiped an imaginary tear from the corner of his eye before letting out one long, dramatic sigh.
“i physically NEED to know just how much worse this can get.”
sieun did as he was told, turning the page just as baku had asked.
this entry was much shorter.
if you still haven’t confessed…
respectfully, you’re a coward.
just confess already, darn it. :/
sieun stared at the page for a long moment.
each line seemed to warm his face a little more than the last, though he tried his best not to let it show.
“so now we know this mystery guy was down BAD.”
juntae let out a quiet snort, pushing the arms of his glasses back into place with both hands before nodding.
“…i don’t think there’s any saving him.”
baku, meanwhile, continued staring at the page as though sheer determination alone would miraculously reveal the author’s identity.
suho was busy having an emotional crisis.
please don’t let sieun like him back.
please let this guy have moved on.
please tell me he doesn’t still like sieun.
the thought was cut short when sieun finally spoke.
“i think there are still a few pages left.”
he cleared his throat once.
he sounded as calm as ever.
suho had spent more than enough time around sieun to recognize the smallest changes.
the barely-there hesitation.
the way he avoided looking up.
the faint warmth creeping toward the tips of his ears.
the next page was the emotional nuke.
if the previous letters were a bomb…
this one was a full-on nuclear explosion.
today was easter, so our class had an easter egg hunt.
i found a decent amount of eggs…
that wasn’t even the best part of today.
today, sieun had to wear this giant bunny costume.
i’m like ninety nine percent sure ms. park forced him to wear it because she kept saying he gave off the strongest “bunny vibes.”
his cheeks were puffed up the entire time.
they were all pink, and somehow his nose ended up matching his cheeks too.
every time ms. park wasn’t looking, he’d quietly try to take the bunny ears off.
he’d end up messing up his hair instead.
and that just made him look even more like a bunny.
i tried giving him one of the fake carrots from the decorations.
he gave me the NASTIEST look ever.
then he chased me around the classroom.
i hope he wears the bunny ears again next year.
because then everyone else would think he’s cute too.
at the very bottom of the page, tucked neatly beneath the diary entry, was a class polaroid.
everyone had been caught exactly as they were in that moment.
baku had his tongue stuck out in the silliest way imaginable, chocolate smeared all over the corners of his mouth.
beside him, gotak wore a smug grin as he held up two fingers behind juntae’s head, giving him a pair of makeshift bunny ears.
juntae, completely oblivious, smiled the sweetest smile at the camera.
right in the middle stood sieun.
he wasn’t looking at the camera at all.
his head had turned toward suho instead, his cheeks puffed out into a grumpy pout after being relentlessly teased.
meanwhile, suho had absolutely no intention of behaving.
one finger was buried into sieun’s right cheek, pressing against the tiny dimple that barely showed whenever he pouted, while the camera caught him in the middle of blowing an exaggerated raspberry.
the shutter clicked at precisely the right moment.
somehow, it captured everything.
the little moments no one would’ve thought to remember.
the polaroid had found its way into the notebook…
preserved like a tiny reminder of a day none of them would ever forget.
suho stared at the page for a long moment.
then, almost absentmindedly, he reached over and took the notebook from sieun.
it slipped from sieun’s hands without any resistance.
his eyes wandered over everything all at once.
the faded polaroid tucked beneath it.
the smile frozen on his younger self’s face.
he hadn’t smiled like that in a long time.
not because someone had asked him to.
not because a camera was pointed at him.
but because, in that tiny square photograph…
the sound barely escaped him.
a quiet, breathless laugh followed.
the answer had been in his own hands the entire time.
after everything they’d searched for…
he had spent all this time chasing a stranger…
only to end up reading the words he’d once written himself.
retracing his own memories.
finding his way back to a version of himself he’d forgotten existed.
the realization settled over him slowly.
he couldn’t help but laugh at the irony of it all.
how could he have forgotten?
how could moments that had once meant everything…
silence settled over the five of them.
even gotak had forgotten how to joke.
suho lowered his gaze to the notebook once more before giving the smallest nod, more to himself than anyone else.
another quiet laugh escaped him.
he rubbed the back of his neck, his cheeks beginning to warm.
“…i’ve always liked you..”
when he finally looked up…
there was something almost shy about the smile that found its way onto his face.
his heart still fluttered the exact same way.
he simply looked back at him.
ever since the very first letter…
the author had been standing beside him all along.
the same person who had written every page.
the same person who had quietly loved him through every memory tucked inside that notebook.
every feeling they’d buried beneath the passing years came rushing back.
and unbearably heavy at the same time.
that the feelings of two middle schoolers…
could survive long enough to find their way back to each other?
2087
blakekathryn
gamechangershow
tangentwithtanner
romaincrisis
izzy806