Terrible Things

Now

"He loved you," I tell Taehyung, who has gone utterly still in my lap. I stroke his hair, running my fingers through the pink strands. "He loved you more than anything in the world."

He shoots up, his little hands curled into fists at his sides. "I don't know him," he mumbles.

Our guests watch us warily, unsure about the mood in the room. "What's that?" I ask, staring at his back.

He whirls on me, tears shining in his eyes. "I don't know anything about him!" He yells. "He's gone and I know nothing!" He jabs a finger at me, his tears breaking free. "And it's all your fault, Dad!"

My stomach drops and I just watch as he runs upstairs, Jin calling after him.

"I'm sorry," I say to the group around me.

"Don't apologize," Namjoon tells me. "It's a natural reaction. He is feeling a loss he never had to process before. It's natural for him to look for someone to blame."

"But-" Hoseok cuts in. "-it isn't your fault, no matter how much you may feel like it is."

"But I-"

"No buts," Jin cuts me off. "You did what you had to in order to allow yourself to grieve, Yoongi. There's no shame or blame in that." He shoves the box into my hands, stepping back into Namjoon's side. "Now go talk to your son. I'll get us all settled into the guest rooms."

I hesitate for a second, but Jin pushes me, shooing me off. I climb the stairs quickly, my feet taking me to Taehyung's room. Standing outside his door, the box feels like lead in my hands. For years it had held my memories, but now it holds my guilt as well.

I open the door without knocking, barely dodging a pillow aimed at my head. "Taehyung," I chastise, stepping over his weapon of choice. "We don't throw pillows at people, do we?"

He mumbles from his spot on the bed, his blue comforter drawn completely over him. Juggling the box, I manage to pick up the pillow, setting it on the bed as I settle in next to him.

"Tae, I know your upset with me right now." He grunts in acknowledgement. "But I have something for you. From Jimin. He wrote it-"

"From Jimin?" He asks quietly, his head just barely popping out of the shelter of his blanket.

"From Jimin," I tell him, nodding. "It's a letter he wrote for you. Do you want me to read it to you?"

"Please." He climbs out of the blankets, eyes red and puffy as he takes the spot beside me.

I nod, opening the box. I move the pictures aside, finding the letters at the bottom. They're all labeled in Jimin's handwriting, each one assigned to a different life event. But for now, I go with the one labeled 'For the Big News'. I let my finger trail over the words for a second, imagine Jimin writing them. "Are you ready?"

Taehyung nods, his eyes on the envelope. I open it slowly, careful not to tear the paper.

"Taehyungie," I start.

Taehyungie,
Time is a lot of things, but fair is not one of them.
If it were, I wouldn't be writing this letter while you and Yoongi sleep.
I would be able to watch you grow up, instead of just wondering who you'll become when you're older.
I would know what age you are right now.
Are you still a child? Maybe you're ten? Or maybe Yoongi avoided it so well that you're an adult now.
Whatever the case may be, I know what you'll be feeling, my love. Betrayal, anger, sadness. You'll look for someone to blame.
I know because I've been through it. I went through all those things when I learned that I would be losing you.
Blame won't make you feel better, Taehyungie.
So forgive your dad and let go of that anger. Because he loves you, but sometimes pain makes us do things that other people don't understand.
I hope you've become someone who can understand others pain and maybe even help them through it. I hope your life is so full of happiness that you have no regrets when I see you again.
And if you need a little bit of help along the way, I'm here. I'm always with you, always watching over you. Even if you can't see me.
I love you, Taehyung.
And no amount of time will change that.
With all my love,
Dada