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They said it was a concussion. They said he was okay. His life wasn’t in danger anymore. He didn’t have any big injury except for a big bump on his head. And yes, he wasn’t unwell. He felt rested, even restless to be confined in this little hospital room. He wanted to go out and runaround the building to enjoy some fresh air. He felt rejuvenated. Physically at least.
But everything else was wrong.
When he’d woken up, he’d been in a hospital room, heart monitor beeping every two seconds, air smelling clean and sanitized. He’d felt dizzy and lost, a bit nauseated. Doctors and nurses rushed in, checked his vitals, asked him a few questions. Name? Park Jimin. Age? 27. Date? He stumbled on this, but he was never good with dates. It was 2021, December probably, he thought, and this was the right answer. He asked why he was there. They said he suffered a bad fall and hit his head hard. He was unconscious for one day, but all analyses were fine. He would be out in a few days. Jimin fell back asleep as soon as they left, already exhausted after the short check-up.
When he woke up again, it was already dark outside. His head was pounding and his stomach was rumbling. He tried to find the button to call for a nurse, but then he noticed a man sitting beside the bed, deeply immersed in a huge book. He was handsome, short blond hair, probably tall considering the length of his legs, quite muscular too. Then he saw another one, black hair, probably lean under his oversized black clothes, pacing nervously by the window.
The first man eventually noticed that Jimin was staring, and gave him a big warm smile, cute dimples suddenly appearing.
“Hey, Jimin-ah! Welcome back,” he said, voice soft but visibly excited. “You gave us a real fright this time.”
“Hyung!” the other one cried out, running by his side, big eyes red and puffy.
Jimin frowned and tensed, searching for the button to call the nurse, but the first man went on.
“They only authorized two people at a time for the moment, so it’s just us. Your parents are coming back from their trip, they should arrive soon.”
“Are you feeling okay?” the black-haired man asked anxiously. “They said you are fine,” he added, trying to take Jimin’s hand in his.
Jimin jerked back and frantically pressed the nurse button, the room spinning around him.
“What are you doing here?”
“Jimin-ah?” the blond man said tentatively, eyes getting bigger with surprise.
“Leave me alone!” Jimin huffed as the nurse was running in.
“Park Jimin-ssi, you’re awake. Are you feeling better?”
No, he was not. His head was burning with pain, and nausea was turning his stomach upside down.
“He seems…disoriented,” the taller man said worryingly, his hand now firmly holding the other man who was looking at him with alarm.
“I’m not! I don’t want strangers here! Miss, I don’t know them, I want them out!” he implored, getting more and more nervous.
The man tried to talk but the nurse shushed him, and politely asked them to leave. They looked at each other, distraught, but the blond man eventually complied, jaw clenched, pulling the other one, who looked too stunned to move, after him.
Jimin relaxed immediately. He didn’t know why those weirdos were here in the first place, but at least he was safe for now.
“I’m sorry, Jimin-ssi, this won’t happen again,” the nurse apologized before calling a doctor who arrived quickly, brows furrowed, followed by a younger one, probably an intern, carrying Jimin’s patient file.
All Jimin wanted was to sleep again, but they insisted on asking him a few questions.
It started easily, name, age, date again, and Jimin wondered why they needed to check all this again. The next question was harder on his brain, what he did the previous day. Jimin didn’t know. He only remembered going to the convenience store and slipping on the icy sidewalk. The doctor smiled reassuringly. Maybe it was nothing, he had a concussion after all. Then, the doctor asked him the name of his parents, and Jimin’s mind went blank.
He remembered his parents. He remembered their faces, their kindness, when he played football in the park with his father. He remembered a lot of things but their names. His heart started beating faster. How could he have forgotten the name of his parents? Why did his brain suddenly feel all foggy?
The doctor kept his reassuring smile, but Jimin noticed the little frown on his forehead. He tensed when the intern went outside after a quick nod from the older doctor, suddenly very aware that something was wrong. Then, the doctor showed him one picture. There were six men on it, very beautiful, wearing trendy clothes and make-up, posing for a photographer.
“Do you know who they are?”
Jimin looked at it more closely. Should he know them? They were obviously celebs, and Jimin had probably seen them somewhere, on television or in a magazine.
“Idols? Actors?” They looked like it.
The doctor glanced at him, brows furrowing deeper. Should he remember them? Are they that famous?
“Jimin-ssi, do you know what you do for a living? What is your job?”
“I…,” Jimin stopped, and his breath became shaky. Did he even have a job? He searched his brain, but nothing came. He vaguely remembered dancing, lights and music. Is he a dancer? He always wanted to become one, but did he make it?
A feeling of panic invaded and his breath became erratic.
It hit him suddenly. He couldn’t remember. He couldn’t remember so many things! Every time he tried to think about what he did the day before, the week before, the month before, nothing. His brain was going blank, and his head started pounding furiously. His vision became blurry as he gasped for more air. He vaguely heard the doctor calling his name. A nurse ran in. But Jimin was paralyzed, thoughts spiraling more and more as he tried to collect his memories.
It suddenly stopped. His muscles went limp, his breathing was back to normal again as his mind was shutting up. His eyelids were heavy and he closed his eyes again.
When he opened them again, it was already dark outside. His mother sat beside the bed, exhausted and worried, looking ten years older than he remembers.
She immediately took his hand into hers and tried a smile.
“Hey, baby. I’m here…” She hesitated. “Do you know who I am?”
Jimin nodded. At least he remembered that, the face of his mother. But the void in his brain crushed him again, and his heart constricts, thinking of everything he was missing without his memories. His mother’s arms engulfed him as he started crying, sad and afraid, lost and powerless. They cried together for long minutes before his father came in, weariness hunching his back. He stroked Jimin’s hair, promising, everything would be fine.
They took him for an MRI, then to a new doctor, a neurologist, who talked about amnesia, probably temporary as his brain was not damaged. Jimin thought he was just trying to reassure him because there was nothing he could do.
They sent him home, just advising him to relax and be patient. Be patient…how was he supposed to do that when half of his brain was empty. At least, physically, Jimin was feeling perfectly fine. He still knew how to take care of himself, he remembered that he had to eat, shower, brush his teeth, and even floss. He was a functional human, except he was totally empty inside.
It was a weird feeling. He had no memories of what he did last week, but he perfectly remembered the eight steps of his skin routine or the place where he stored the packs of ramyeon. Sometimes out of nowhere, he would hum songs he didn’t remember hearing, or dance moves he didn’t remember learning. He tried to stop because it inexplicably made his mother cry, but he failed most of the time, as if they were like reflexes he couldn’t control.
After two days of living like a ghost in his own apartment, his father asked him if he would mind seeing a few of his friends. They hoped it would bring back some memories, so Jimin agreed, even if he felt awkward meeting with strangers.
The first one to come was a very beautiful man, named Taehyung. Of course, Jimin had no memories of him, except he was immediately very fond of him. He couldn’t explain why, but he knew Taehyung was a friend.
Taehyung didn’t stay for long. They didn’t know what to say. Jimin had nothing to talk about except for his days in the hospital. Taehyung started fidgeting, and Jimin became nervous. He hated himself for not remembering anything. Taehyung seemed like such a nice guy, and he was visibly very worried about Jimin. But Jimin could only repeat what the doctors said: it would come back to normal eventually. Then, as soon as Jimin said he was suddenly craving mandu, Taehyung started crying and left.
The next day, three other men came to visit. Jimin recognized Namjoon who was there when he first woke up. In fact, he recognized all of them from the picture the doctor showed him, but his memories don’t go further. The two other men introduced themselves as Jin and Yoongi. They brought Jimin’s favorite food, and they discussed a bit while eating, enquiring about Jimin’s health, the doctor’s advice, and various banalities. It was easier with several people. Even if Jimin didn’t have much to say, the conversation flowed. Jimin listened to them talking about their daily lives, their families, about what they would do for the holiday season. He listened and observed carefully, trying to remember, trying to see a sign. He had suspicions, but his brain remained blank, and he suddenly couldn’t stand it anymore.
“Are you idols? Or actors? Am I one too?” They froze, so Jimin went on. “I mean, you look like it, you’re all beautiful and well-dressed. And I’m not stupid, they said we were, are , friends . Or am I like your manager or something?”
They looked at each other before Namjoon answered in a soft voice. “We are in a group together. With Taehyung and two other members, Hoseok, and Jungkook, you saw him when you woke up.”
They stared at him, waiting to see if it reminded him of something. But there was nothing. Always nothing. He was in a group, doing what he always wanted to do and he couldn’t remember anything.
Panic crushed him suddenly, engulfing him, making him feel like dying. They fussedaround him, tried to calm him down, but only his mother managed to soothe him. When he started breathing normally again, his “friends” were all gone, and Jimin cried until he fell asleep.
A few days passed before Jimin asked to see the two other members of his group , Hoseok and Jungkook. He insisted when his parents said it wasn’t good for him after his last panic attack. He didn’t care if it was hard. He had to try. Maybe they would spark something, maybe they would trigger his memories to come back.
Of course, nothing happened.
Hoseok was a cheerful guy and Jimin was happy to see him. He hugged Jimin as soon as he saw him, which was awkward because he was still a stranger, but Jimin didn’t mind. It felt reassuring. He didn’t remember, but the sweet scent of Hoseok was comforting, and Jimin immediately felt calm.
It was different with Jungkook. Jimin wondered if they were really friends as Jungkook acted cold and distant. It was a contrast with Hoseok’s loud friendliness. Jungkook stayed at a safe distance from him, barely saying a word, or even looking at him. They were probably only bandmates, colleagues, and nothing more. It bothered him more than it should have. He didn’t remember him after all, so why was he so annoyed to not be liked by him? Jimin tried to be polite, but if Jungkook wasn’t going to talk to him, so be it.
But the next day, Jungkook was back, with Taehyung this time. Taehyung seemed livelier this time, confident that Jimin would remember soon.
“You really don’t remember anything?”
Taehyung glanced at him curiously. Jimin was surprised by the sudden question, but, of course, it was hard to never address the elephant in the room. Jungkook was still not looking at him, staring at the coffee table instead, one leg nervously bouncing on the floor. Jimin ignored him and shrugged.
“Not really. I have…impressions of deja-vu sometimes. They made me listen to a few songs, and I kinda remember. Well not remembering really, but I know them.”
“Aren’t you…sad?” Jungkook whispered, eyes still locked on the floor. It was probably the most words Jimin has heard from him.
Jimin pondered a bit before answering carefully. “I’m…annoyed…but it’s hard to get sad over things that don’t exist for me.” He didn’t talk about the fear he carried, fear of never recovering, never remembering his life.
“I feel it will come back soon!” Taehyung exclaimed enthusiastically. “Before Christmas!”
But days passed by, and Jimin was not going anywhere. They sent him to a psychologist who suggested hypnosis and prescribed him a few pills to calm his growing anxiety. They said he wasn’t ready to see more of his previous life yet, so he had to stay in the dark, couldn’t watch television except for drama, couldn’t watch youtube shows. Jimin did as he was told, too afraid of never recovering if he didn’t, but days became a week, two weeks, Christmas was approaching fast, and nothing was getting better.
Fortunately, his friends helped. They were still complete strangers to him, but they comforted him. He trusted them and felt reassured seeing them every day or almost. Hoseok came to watch movies, snuggled under a blanket. Taehyung turned on the karaoke machine so they could sing at the top of his lungs. Jin and Yoongi came to cook homemade food while Namjoon was always up for a ride along the Han river. They became part of his daily life.
Jungkook was the one he saw the most, because Jungkook always came with them. And Jimin was more and more annoyed because Jimin couldn’t understand why. Jungkook didn’t like him so why bother? Jimin wouldn’t resent him, or even miss him…or so he thought.
“Jungkook isn’t coming anymore?” he asked nonchalantly. It had been two days without seeing him. Jimin didn’t really care, of course, he was just being polite.
Hoseok glanced at him, still trying to beat him at Mario Kart. “Why do you ask?”
Jimin shrugged. “No reason, just wondering if he’s okay…out of politeness.”
Hoseok raised an eyebrow and snorted. “At least, you haven’t changed a bit, I can tell you that.”
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing,” Hoseok chuckled. “About your question, Jungkook went to Busan to see his parents. I will tell him to stop by when he’s back.”
“He doesn’t have to! I wasn’t asking for that.”
“Yeah, sure,” Hoseok smirks.
Jimin didn’t answer back, not sure he liked this conversation. He didn’t miss Jungkook at all, and he preferred not seeing him than seeing him being upset to be here.
The day after, Jungkook was back with Hoseok, still tense and awkward, showing no signs he enjoyed being here. And Jimin would never admit that he was relieved to see him.
The weirdest thing happened a few days before Christmas. Jungkook came back, alone this time, which was a first. Well, he wasn’t alone exactly…
“I’m sorry,” he said sheepishly. “He won't stop crying after you,” he added, trying to block a big and excited Doberman from getting in before Jimin agreed. “He really misses you.”
Jimin melted instantly. “Poor baby,” he cooed, opening his arms to welcome the dog, who immediately ran to him, bouncing around and happily crying.
“I’m sorry,” Jungkook repeated again, but Jimin shushed him, trying to pet the dog who was too excited to stay in place.
“What is his name? He’s beautiful.”
“He’s called Bam, and…thanks I guess…”
Okay, back at the cold Jungkook. He thought something had changed when his mother opened the door, but apparently, he had just come for his dog.
“It’s a perfect name,” Jimin answered blankly without glancing at Jungkook, annoyed by the hypocrisy. He only focused on the dog, petted him, rubbed his belly, scratched his ears, and let him climb on him despite his weight. Eventually, Bam fell asleep on his lap, apparently exhausted from the excitement to see Jimin.
Jimin gave a sad smile, his heart aching to not remember like Bam was remembering him. They said it would come back eventually, but Jimin was starting to doubt it. He feared all his memories would be forgotten forever, his whole life.
“Hyung?”
Jungkook’s voice was soft like a breath but it startled Jimin.
“Hm?”
“Are you okay? You…you’re crying, did I make something bad? I shouldn’t have come with Bam, I’m sorry…”
Jimin quickly wiped his eyes. He didn’t even notice he was crying.
“No, no, it’s nothing. I’m glad Bam is here,” he answered, hugging the sleepy dog.
“Oh…okay,” Jungkook simply said, fidgeting and looking uncomfortable as usual.
“Why are you always coming here?” Jimin blurted out, fed up to see him like this.
Jungkook jumped on his seat and finally looked, big doe eyes looking at him as caught in headlights.
“Wh-what do you mean?” he stuttered.
“You don’t like me, but you keep coming here. You don’t have to, you know. I wouldn’t mind.”
Jungkook blinked before lowering his head. “I…I don’t…not like you, I mean.”
Jimin raised an eyebrow. “So what? You always sulk around when you come.”
Jungkook fidgeted with his hands. “It’s just…weird.”
Jimin rolled his eyes. “You tell me.”
“And I’m afraid to do something that would hurt you more,” he admitted, lowering his head.
Jimin frowned, surprised. He didn’t expect this. He just thought Jungkook didn’t like him or something, not that the other man could feel as awkward as him because of the situation. He sighed and came closer. Jungkook tensed but he didn’t move away, so Jimin patted his hand.
“What could you do to hurt me? Unless you want to hit my head again, I think we’re safe. And the doctor thinks it is good to have some kind of normalcy.”
“I’m sorry,” Jungkook sniffled.
“It’s okay, I understand,” Jimin said softly. “You don’t have to come if it’s too awkward for you.”
“I want to see you! I went crazy when I couldn’t!”
And Jungkook suddenly grabbed him in a tight hug, head buried against his neck, sobbing quietly. “I was so scared, hyung!”
Jimin gasped with surprise but quickly patted his back.
“I’m—” He stopped mid-sentence. He was not fine. He was still broken, still missing a large part of his life. He was alive, trying to get through everything, trying to find his path in his clouded brain, but he was not fine. “I’m here,” he said softly, and Jungkook cried harder.
From then, Jungkook became friendlier. He still tiptoed around him, but Jimin could tell that he tried to act more like normal. His mother even offered him to stay over for Christmas. Jimin thought he was going to decline, but Jungkook accepted gladly. He even came earlier to help Jimin’s mother in the kitchen, letting Jimin dogsit Bam for the afternoon. Jimin could hear them laugh from the living room. That’s when he realized that they knew each other well already, another proof of his close relationship with Jimin, something he still didn’t remember.
“Can I take Bam for a walk?”
Jimin was bored and he was getting claustrophobic. He suddenly needed some air.
“Wait! I’m coming too!”
Jimin wanted to turn him down, not fond of being babysat every time he wanted to go out, but he also didn’t like to be alone, and he liked Jungkook’s calm company.
“You don’t have to,” he said anyway, not wanting to be a burden.
“I’m happy to,” Jungkook smiled, putting his coat on.
They went to a dog park nearby so they could release Bam who started running around happily.
“It hasn’t snowed much yet,” Jimin pouted while they were walking, looking at the few barely white spots of snow on the grass.
“You say this because you want to attack me with snowballs,” Jungkook teased, a smirk on his face.
Jimin smiled. He loved this new side of Jungkook, the friendly and cheeky Jungkook. When relaxed, Jungkook was such a cute kid, bratty but Jimin enjoyed the back-and-forth teasing. Well, not really a kid either. Jungkook was younger than him but Jimin was not blind, Jungkook was a handsome young man. All the members were in his eyes, but Jungkook had this strange duality with his sleeve tattoo and big muscles contrasting with his soft bunny smile and cute nose. But it was probably very inappropriate to find his bandmate attractive. Hopefully, everything would turn back to normal when he retrieved his memories…if he retrieved them.
All of a sudden, Jungkook’s warm hand slid into his, and Jimin’s heart missed a beat. He looked at his friend with surprise, but Jungkook’s attention seemed totally directed on Bam, making sure the dog wasn’t digging holes in the park or running away too far from them.
“He loves coming here,” he said eventually, focusing back on Jimin. “It’s bigger than the park near my apartment.”
Jimin didn’t answer, still staring at their intertwined hands and thinking about how heartwarming it was and how it felt like a missing piece of a blurry puzzle.
“Oh, sorry!” Jungkook blurted out, hastily removing his hand.
Jimin became instantly cold. He liked having Jungkook’s hand in his. It wasn’t weird or inappropriate, but rather natural and pleasant. Jimin didn’t want to think much about what it implied. Maybe it was a habit of theirs. All his bandmates were close, so holding hands was probably a thing they did on a daily basis.
“It’s okay,” Jimin whispered.
“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable!”
Jimin frowned at him. “You didn’t. I don’t mind, it is kinda nice.”
Jungkook’s eyes widened as Jimin took his hand back into his, but he said nothing. But the wide smile on his face betrayed how happy such a small gesture made him. And Jimin can’t help smiling with him.
Christmas eve was cut short when a hard migraine hit Jimin early in the evening. It had happened sometimes after the accident, probably a sign that his brain was still trying to recover according to the doctors. He went to bed without even finishing his meal and fell asleep as soon as his head touched his pillow.
He woke up a bit nauseated but feeling much better. Bam greeted him excitedly when he stepped into the kitchen. Jungkook was drinking a mug of coffee, hair still a mess from sleep.
“Hey! Are you feeling better?”
Jimin nodded, a bit surprised to find his friend still there.
“It started snowing heavily and your mom didn’t let me go home,” Jungkook explained with a chuckle. “It’s early, you should go back to bed. I only got up for Bam.”
Jimin almost ran to the window to see the heavy white blanket covering Seoul.
“Can I come?” Jimin quickly asked, eyes shining, delighted to see all that snow.
“Sure, if you feel good now.”
Jimin gave him a big excited smile and hopped into his bedroom to get dressed in warm clothes.
“I love snow!” he exclaimed as soon as his shoes sank into the thick layer of snow.
“I know,” Jungkook chuckled, freeing Bam to let him run happily. “He loves sn—”
Splosh !
Jimin burst out laughing while Jungkook stared at him with an open mouth, almost in shock, remnants of snow melting on his face. Then, a huge childish grin appeared on his face.
“Oh, oh, it’s on, baby!” Jungkook smirked, bending to scoop two big handfuls of snow.
Jimin laughed and ran away, trying to get his own missiles too, but he was too slow. One ball whizzed by but missed, giving time for Jimin to attack once more. Jimin had a way better aim than Jungkook (or so he believed for two minutes), and he hit again. But Jungkook’s riposte was immediate, and Jimin was soon covered with snow. They both were, laughing like kids, Bam woofing around him, trying to catch the flying snowballs.
“Timeout!” Jimin exclaimed, out of breath. “Timeout!” he repeated, trying to catch his breath, still laughing and grinning as he had not since he woke up. “You win, you’re too strong at this.”
“You are six, I had to learn to fight back,” he grinned, hopping closer.
“Six against you? That seems unfair.”
“Yet, I always win,” he smirked.
Jimin laughed and Jungkook suddenly fell quiet, staring at him with a soft gaze.
“It’s good to see you laugh like this.”
He blushed and suddenly diverted his eyes. “I should get Bam. We will freeze to death if we stay like this longer.”
Jimin raised an eyebrow but said nothing. There was something in Jungkook’s eyes, something he couldn’t point out but palpable. He wished he could remember what. He closed his eyes tight, wishing and wishing again.
Something cold hit his face, a light icy flake. Then another, and another, softly falling on his face.
Jimin opened his eyes.
It was snowing again, snowflakes silently swirling around him, sparkling like icy fairy dust, tiny crystals bringing their magic.
Jimin shivered, but not from the cold this time. Jungkook was coming back, Bam on his feet.
“Let’s go! Bam’s nose is freezing… Hyung?”
Jimin was staring at him with big eyes, heart beating fast. He took one step forward, closing the small space between them, and caught Jungkook’s coat, pulling him closer with force.
“Hyung?...” Jungkook repeated in a smaller voice before being silenced by Jimin’s icy lips on him.
Jungkook blinked at him, eyes wide, and Jimin smirked as he broke the kiss.
“You…what…” Jungkook stuttered, too stunned to form a proper sentence.
“Three years ago, same day, same park, same snow, you kissed me, near that bench over there. And I was so mad at you because we were wet and freezing, and it was not a proper first kiss!”
Jungkook’s eyes widened more and more at each detail.
“You bought forgiveness with hot coc—”
Another kiss, deeper, more desperate interrupted him. Jimin closed his arms around Jungkook’s neck and pressed himself against him, heart beating again, all the holes in his brain clearing up little by little.
“You remember,” Jungkook breathed, eyes glistening with happy tears.
“I do…maybe not everything, but the most important,” he answered, brushing Jungkook’s icy cheek, “BTS, the members, you…us.”
Jungkook buried his face into Jimin’s neck, a sob escaping his throat.
“I feared you would never recover.”
“I know, I’m sorry it took so long,” Jimin whispered, tightening his arms around Jungkook. “I’m back now, back with you.”
Jungkook sniffled against him. “And you owe me hot cocoa now, this was another icy, wet kiss.”
Jimin chuckled. “So let’s get you some.”