HYYH The Notes Chronologically

Namjoon, 15 May, Year 20

I went to the warehouse classroom that we claimed as our secret base. We always went there. I picked up a few chairs and I made my way in. I set the toppled-over table upright and patted the dust off the top of it with my palm. To humans, separation is always sentimental. Today was the last day of school and in two weeks we'd move away. I didn't know if I would ever come back here or whether I would be able to see my friends again. I folded the paper in half and placed it on the table. Although I held a pen in my hand, I didn't know what to write. Time passed by. After writing some meaningless words, the pencil lead broke with a sound.

"You must survive".

I unconsciously doodled those words onto the paper. Among all dark lead powder and doodling, I was suddenly reminded of poverty, parents, moving, and other messy things.

I folded the paper into a ball, put it into my pocket and got up from my seat. Dust was everywhere again when I put the table back. As I got ready to leave, I fogged up the window with my breath, and wrote four words. It was not enough at the moment, but it could be conveyed even if unsaid.

"We will meet again."

I hoped that this could be a promise between us.