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(Takes place after Jin traveled back from Aug 3, Year 22)
The same things I had done. He had made mistakes and blunders just like I had, had ran and ran to try to make up for them. My father's notebook was a record of his failures. In the end, my father had given up and failed. He had forgotten and turned away and ignored. He had betrayed his friends. On the last page of the notebook were nothing but smeared black and stains. The stains had permeated to the blank next page, and the next, and the one after that, all the way to the very last. Those stains announced my father's failures. I was unsure how much time had passed seeing how the wind from beyond the windows had become cool, it seems like the darkest time of day, at the time right before the sun rises. Namjoon and the others were asleep where they had sat down. I lifted my head and looked up at the wall. Somewhere here I had seen my father's name written before. Underneath had been written a sentence like, "This was where everything started." The moment that I started to close the notebook, a sensation started at the end of my fingertips and moved up my arm. I saw faint letters appear atop the smeared ink stain. From beyond the window I felt a murky kind of energy. It seems like the sun would rise soon. But the night was not out yet over. It was a time when it was no longer night, but not yet dawn. Like the tangling of darkness and greyish light. Letters merged between the lines in the black spot. The notebook held more memories than what was recorded. Atop the letters, between the margins and the empty spaces were the things my father I decided to forget, things he decided not to remember. Like the indentations of writing left behind once the colour has faded, beneath my fingertips whirled my fathers many struggles and fears, the despair he couldn't overcome and his weak hopes. The map of my fathers bent soul was right here in this note. As I closed the notebook, tears began to fall. I sat for a long time, and when I lifted my head my friends were still asleep as ever. I looked at each one of them. Maybe we had been meant to come back to this place. Everything started here for us. I came to understand the meaning of doing something together and the delight of laughing together. My first blunder, the mistake I had never once acknowledged aloud, remained like a wound. The thought occurred to me that maybe none of this was by chance. Maybe I had to come to this place in the end. Only then I could I find the meaning of my mistakes and blunders, and the pain and anxiety that we suffered as a result. I was, for the first time, able to take the first step to find the map of my soul.
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