BTS HYYH Notes (Book 1, 2, BUS Game) // COMPLETE [Part 2]

2022, May 20 - Hoseok (Out Of Jail)

[Places: Police station, alley]

(A/N: POV #1)

Taking Taehyung, we left the police station. "You did well." Lowering my head, I spoke with spirit, though I didn't really feel that way.

From the police station, it wasn't too far to Taehyung's house. If he lived much further away, would there have been less reason for Taehyung to enter the police station so often? Why did Taehyung's parents decide to live so close to a police station? To such a boy who was so kind to the point of idiocy, the world was too unfair.

I put an arm around his shoulder and asked "Are you hungry?" Pretending nothing was wrong. Taehyung shook his head. I asked him, "Did the hyungdeul at the police station say it was good to see you and buy you food?" But Taehyung did not give any answer.

Into the sunshine, the two of us walked. Within my heart, a cold wind blew. If even my heart was like this, how would he be feeling? Would he have any of his heart left? How much pain would be in his heart? Because I was thinking such things, I could not look him in the face, and instead turned up to the sky. Through the faint sunshine, a plane was passing by.

The first time I saw the scars on Taehyung's back was when I had met him in Namjoon's container hideout. (A/N: Refer to April 11 Year 22) Though, nobody could speak because he had smiled so cutely at his excitement in receiving a shirt, a part of my heart had broken.

I had no parents. I had no recollection of my abeoji, and my eommeoni too, I only knew until the age of 7. If we were speaking about the pain received by parents in one's childhood, I myself had received enough.

People say this: that you have to overcome your pain, that you have to accept it and get used to it. That you have to reconcile and forgive them. That it's the only way to live.

It's not that I don't know. It's not that I reject it out of hatred. But some things can't be done just by trying. Nobody told me how. Before I became hardened enough for this world, it gave me new wounds. I do know that there are no people with no wounds by the world. But why is it necessary to have such deep wounds? For what reason is it necessary? Why do we have to live such a life?

"Hyung. It's okay. I can go alone." He spoke at the crossroads.

"I know, kid." Without concern, I took the lead.

"It's truly okay. Look. I'm fine." Taehyung smiled at me.

I did not respond. There was no way he could be okay. He was not fine, but once he acknowledged that, it would be hard to go on. So he was ignoring it. It had become his habit.

Taehyung flipped over his hooded t-shirt and came to follow me. "You're really not hungry, right?" I asked him as we reached the corridor of his home.

Taehyung gave a dumb smile and nodded his head. I watched him walk through the corridor with his back turned, and then turned myself.

The corridor that Taehyung was walking through the street and I was returning by - they were both narrow and desolate. That kid, and myself, are both alone.

I was just about to turn around when my phone rang.

(A/N: Look for Seokjin's note on the same date from this event.)

***

(A/N: Official English version of Loop #1)

I left the police station with Taehyung.

"Thank you." I bowed and shouted all the more energetically, but I really wasn't in the mood.

It wasn't far from the police station to Taehyung's house. If he lived farther from police station, would he still be there this much? Why had his parents settled down so close to the police station? The world was so unjust and unfair to this foolishly good-hearted and sensitive kid.

I placed my arm to Taehyung's shoulders and casually asked if he was hungry. Taehyung shook his head. "Did the police officers welcome you back and buy you a meal?" I asked again, but he didn't answer.

The two of us walked in the sunlight, but an icy wind seemed to nip at my heart. I couldn't imagine how he must be feeling when I felt this chilly inside. His heart must've felt ripped and torn. Or does he have a heart left at all? How much anguish has he endured? I couldn't look him in his eyes, so I turned my glance upwards. An airplane was flying against the somewhat murky sky.

I first saw the scar on Taehyung's back in Namjoon's container. I couldn't bring myself to ask about it when he was smiling so broadly with his new T-shirt present. (A/N: Refer to April 11 Year 22)

I had no parents. I had no memory of abeoji, and my memory of eommeoni stopped at the age of 7. I probably had more open wounds and scars regarding family and childhood than anyone. People always said so easily that we need to overcome our wounds, embrace them, and accept them as part of our lives. That we need to reconcile with and forgive others to go on living.

It wasn't that I wasn't aware of it. It wasn't that I didn't want to give it a try. But giving it a try didn't guarantee success. No one had taught me how. The world gave us new wounds even before the old ones could heal. Surely, no one in the world can avoid getting hurt. I was aware of that. But do we really need to go get hurt this deeply? For what? Why did these things happens to us?

"I'm okay. I can go alone." Taehyung said at the intersection.

"I know." I led the way.

"I'm really okay. See? I'm fine." Taehyung smiled, I didn't respond.

He couldn't be okay. But once he admitted that he wasn't okay, he wouldn't be able to bear it. So he was just ignoring the truth. That became his habit.

Taehyung followed me, putting up his hood.

"You're really not hungry?" I asked him when we had walked up to the outdoor hallway that led to his house.

He smiled that foolish smile and nodded. I stayed for a little and watched him walk towards his door and I finally turned around. The path he was walking down and the path I walked through were both narrow and bleak. He and I were both alone.

***

[Place: Dance studio]

(A/N: POV #2)

I stood in front of a mirror. I lowered the lights and looked at myself. Without the music on, I did a turn in the dance room one Saturday afternoon with no one around.

The room was flooded with noise from inside and outside the building. I repeated the turn with eyes fixed on myself in the mirror. I didn't want to think about anything.

I concentrated on my fingertips, the degrees of my feet and knees, and the speed of the turn. I felt hot and sweaty, and my tensed-up muscles soon became relaxed.

My ankle gave out and I was thrown off as I was coming down from a high jump. The hand that pushed against the floor to ease the fall felt numb. My t-shirt was soaked, and I felt chill from the floor climbing up my back. The sound of my panting was all I could hear.

I liked looking at myself dancing. When I danced, I soared without my feet touching the ground, free from people's eyes and judgement. Nothing mattered except moving my body with the music and expressing what was in my heart with my body.

Sometimes, I was able to jump unrealistically high, and become my true self. But the person I saw in the mirror every time I turned was me, me in reality. The one who collapsed on the bridge after hearing that his dear imo got a serious illness, the one who almost tumbled down on the stairs trying to chase after his eommeoni, and the one who was helpless in front of Taehyung as he raged and despaired against his abeoji.

Even in that state, I forced myself to smile, saying it would be okay. When I tried not to see that side of me, I lost my balance and fell to the ground.

I remembered the day of the unexpected shower. The people rushing into our joint to avoid the shower. The hysterical ringing of the phones that day. The shower ended suddenly as it had started, and the people went their ways as if nothing had happened, but the chaos and fear that had ensued stayed with me and terrified me for a long time.

I felt the same as I had done that day. The same sense of helplessness.