The Only

Simple and Clean

Joohyun's Perspective:

Taehyung remembers us.

It's been two weeks, and I still think about that day often.

I didn't think it could be possible—Taehyung acknowledging segments of the past no matter how brief it was. Nope, not ever. Keeping my hopes up was hard. But just like that day at the clean-up, I continued to stay optimistic about his memories returning, or at least barely coming to the surface.

I wasn't one-hundred percent positive that it could ever occur. I'm not a psychologist or a doctor. I'm just someone that's extremely hopeful—someone who searches for possibilities and holds onto them.

In truth, the past is what connects me, Bogum, and Taehyung. There're many afternoons, either on the walk home after work or while lounging around at home, that I marvel over the connection that the three of us manage to keep intact after all these years. It's even crazier once I'm reminded of how long Taehyung's been away. That single thought urges me to wonder why he doesn't know us, or why he forgot about us and his childhood, but there's no use. It's not like I can change things, much less what he remembers.

Whenever I'm with Taehyung, my heart breaks a little. There'd be so many times that I want to reminisce a certain experience with him, but I stop myself. It's upsetting to believe that he's forgotten what brought us together or the small memories we've shared. That disappointment led me to endlessly plead for those tiny fragments of our childhood to return to him. It doesn't matter if it's all at once, or little-by-little, but I would've liked it to be possible. That's why I do everything I can to help—to urge the process. Because, if it happened once, then it can happen, again.

And, if it continues to, then...

Then, our relationship has the chance to evolve into something much greater. And, maybe one day, he can finally tell me about him; about the part of his life that I was absent for all these years.

It's wonderful to think about.

But most of all, every day is a step closer to the truth.

I may not be sure about much, but I do know one thing: Bogum and I's bond with Taehyung had strengthened that day at the lake. It was always our spot, but I can officially say it now that the trio is complete. It's been our designated meeting place for a while, but it feels more wholesome nowadays.

Either after school or on the weekends, we'd all meet up there and hangout. Then, inevitably, the competitive pair—Bogum and Taehyung—would challenge each other to a "casual" rock-skipping contest. It'd commence, and sometimes, it'd never end. Taehyung wasn't a professional like Bogum, but with as much as they'd practice together, his skills are continuously enhancing.

Lately, they started to make stupid bets with each other, like, "if I win, you owe me five bucks," or "if I win, you got to buy us ice cream for the rest of the week."

Bogum always turned out as the winner.

The two of them would continuously try and drag me into their games, but it was clear that they were better than me. Yeah, even Taehyung. The only way I'd play is if no bets were involved. If not, I'd simply lay back, relax, and watch their competitions. During the short journeys back to our homes, Bogum would joke around and tease Taehyung about the little diary that he has such a firm grip on all the time. Seriously, he never lets it out of his sight.

That only stirs my intrigue about it and him.

Like, that large scar that runs down his side. It's practically engraved in my mind—a sight that I'll never forget. He must've received it while he was away because I don't remember that. The only possible conclusion that I could think of for a scar that large is that he's been in some horrible accident. One hell of an accident, indeed.