An Ode to Maehwa | kth

Chapter 68: An Ode to You

"You should've convinced yourself as a dream," he muttered. "Like it never happened and forget. It's easier that way."

Seeing Yoongi was proof that you have been back in time. The confirmation you needed. But seeing Yoongi reminded you of what you had, and will never have. With him, it was so easy to get washed over the violent wave of memories and emotions that submerged you almost, unbreathing.

"I don't regret meeting you, Yoongi," you said. "I don't regret anything."

Yoongi bore into your eyes before he gave a slight shake with his head. You noticed a small curve on his lips.

"I guess I like it the hard way," you smirked.

Yoongi was as grumpy as he had always been, but that didn't stop you from texting him and seeing him. Over a year, you've made progress of getting four replies out of five, from one out of five. Although he probably wouldn't wait a beat to show his disgust if you ever decide to label your relationship as a 'friend', you secretly thought you weren't that far from it when you hear his unusually excited voice over the call telling you that his friend has woken up from a coma. He also mentioned how he was planning to see if he could work things out with his friend's senior, who he still had doubts on, which you cheered.

You probably wouldn't see Hoseok or Seokjin's reincarnation in this lifetime, but it was enough. Just knowing they were safe and sound was enough for you.

"And so, the Second Prince, Kim Namjoon, had led the Empire for fifteen years. He was a wise Emperor, and together with his two brothers, he brought further peace and prosperity to his people," the curator's voice brought your thoughts back to the museum.

This time, it wasn't the balding man, but a woman of mid-forties. Back then, you weren't listening to the curator because none of the stories he had been telling interested you. Now, you weren't listening because all of those had become common knowledge to you. What's more, you've decided to write your graduation thesis on the Chunan era. It was amusing how the tables turn.

"When the Crown Prince, Kim Seokjin's son had turned fifteen, Namjoon handed over the throne to him, and he put all his effort into supporting him. Hence, a new wise Emperor was born."

You glanced over at the glass display behind her. There was a familiar looking amulet bag, one white and one in peach. You had lost count of how many times you've visited this place, with the class, Jimin or alone, but everytime you see those belongings that you had once come across, you couldn't help but smile and feel warm.

There was more to it than a mere history for you.

It was a reality, your experience, too bizarre to even mouth it. To anyone, it definitely would sound like a fiction, a drama plot or something, and sometimes you'd believe in that too. It was so easy to give into that when memories started fading gradually, paying no mind to your feelings that desperately clinged onto them.

"Alright, a ten minute break!" the professor announced.

Jimin excused himself to the bathroom while you didn't wait to walk out. It was your routine to visit the sacred tree whenever you visited the museum.

The dent on its trunk felt familiar against your fingers. You looked up and felt the little sunlight on your face, filtered through the dense canopy that rustled gently by the wind. Sturdy, powerful tree that quietly watched over every heartbreak and mending, standing by everyone's side for all these years. It was the witness of all, and a shelter for all.

You walk past it, towards the plum tree that grew by the side. Knowing the basis of plum trees by now, you understood that this particular tree bloomed later than when it was supposed to. It's spring already, and it was in full bloom, dressed up in white gown. The brown pot flashed in your mind; the one you couldn't see it bud, but Taehyung had promised he'd look after it and make sure it would bloom, in the most prettiest way possible. You didn't doubt it. Taehyung knew how to take care of it better than you did, and he always kept his promise. You could almost see the purple robe amongst the fully blooming plum tree, reaching out to the petals fondly as a soft smile painted his face. He would never break his promise.