FACING THE SAME FACE | JINKOOK

CH6

JungKook couldn't help but compare the pain of losing his parents to that of his brother. Although he knew that doing so was pointless, that any goodbye was unbearable, JungHyun's death affected him in such a profound way that he was barely able to assimilate it. He berated himself for making comparisons, for thinking that one loss could hurt more than another, but there was something about his brother's death that tore him apart in a more brutal way. The memories of his childhood, the moments they shared, and the special connection he had had with him, now seemed like knives stuck in his memory, that every time he tried to heal, they would reopen.

He couldn't explain how, with such lucidity, he had been able to call the ambulance. He remembered his hands shaking as he dialed the number, his fingers cold, the sensation of the air escaping him as he spoke to the operator. And yet, as he did so, he prayed silently for a miracle to happen, for JungHyun to recover. A miracle. The word echoed in his mind, as if it were an empty echo of what he once believed possible. Of course, it was useless. There was nothing to be done. There was no miracle.

A week later, the feelings of anger, sadness and denial kept coming and going without warning, like an unpredictable storm that swept him in every direction. He could sit, motionless, in the same position for hours, feeling the crushing weight of reality, and the next second, explode in fury, shattering everything around him. Shelves would fall, books would fly across the room, and walls would be hit with the same intensity with which, moments later, he would end up cowering in a corner, a fistful of tears.

Chaos had become his only constant. His room, once an orderly refuge, was now a reflection of his mind, disordered, broken. Pieces of what had been his life lay scattered on the floor, irreparable.

The nights were just as unbearable. Sleep was supposed to give him rest, but instead, the darkness brought nightmares. For days now, a new name had crept into his mind: SeokJin. He didn't know him, but his presence was unmistakable in his dreams. He was a dark shadow, a figure rising behind his brother, as if he had been pulling him away from JungKook little by little, until he had taken him away from him completely. Some nights he would hear JungHyun's footsteps in the hallways, the unmistakable sound of his laughter in the kitchen. And then he would wake up. The illusion would fade, leaving him emptier than before.

Even Rin, his ex-girlfriend, worried about him. Although their relationship had ended bitterly, but she had accompanied him to the funeral and had come several times since then, making sure he ate something, because JungKook had reached the point of forgetting the basics. He felt that everything was irrelevant; food, sleep, time. The outside world was still going on, but for him, the clock had stopped ticking the day JungHyun died.

That morning the sun shone with an intensity that was insulting. Outside, the sky was clear, the flowers were vibrant with vivid colors, and birdsong filled the air as if the world didn't know it had ceased to make sense. The gentle afternoon breeze caressed the leaves of the trees, and JungKook thought how ironic it was that the beauty of nature made him feel more miserable.

TaeHyung, his lifelong friend, visited him that morning. He was the only one who could get a few words out of him, however few. TaeHyung insisted that he should take a break, go on a trip, get away from everything that reminded him of his brother. At first, JungKook had resisted the idea, but the more he thought about it, the more appealing it seemed to him. Perhaps running away was the only way to survive.

TaeHyung's goodbye hug was tight, as if his friend was trying to pass on some of his own strength, something JungKook had long ago run out of. And when he was left alone, he walked around the house like a specter, going through every corner filled with memories. Every wall, every piece of furniture, every little detail of the house was steeped in memories of his childhood, of his family, of the life he once had. He wanted to erase them all. The pain those memories caused him was unbearable; the happier they were, the more they tore him apart now.