Three Months Later

The first thing he noticed was the weight.

It sat over him strangely, pressing down through his body as though someone had replaced his bones with stone while he slept. Even breathing felt unfamiliar. Slow. Heavy. Like his lungs needed a moment to remember what they were supposed to do.

His eyelashes fluttered.

Light leaked through.

Harsh at first.

White.

Too white.

Jungkook frowned immediately.

The movement felt wrong.

Something tugged across the left side of his face.

His eye opened further.

A ceiling greeted him.

Blank.

Sterile.

The kind that existed only in places people desperately wanted to leave.

For several seconds he simply stared at it.

Thoughts came slowly.

Not because he couldn't think.

Because his mind felt buried beneath layers of cotton.

Everything seemed distant.

Muted.

Like consciousness itself hadn't fully decided whether to return.

A faint rhythmic sound drifted somewhere nearby.

Beep.

Pause.

Beep.

Pause.

Jungkook listened to it without understanding why it felt familiar.
Then realization settled gradually.

Hospital.

His gaze shifted.

Only his right eye responded properly.

The left remained dark.

Heavy.

He tried again.

Nothing.

A faint sensation of pressure stretched along the side of his face instead.

Confused, Jungkook lifted his hand.

The motion took more effort than it should have.

His arm trembled halfway there before his fingers finally brushed his cheek.

Fabric.

Layers of it.

Bandages?

His brows pulled together.

More confusion than concern.

The cloth covered nearly half his face.

He could feel the edges stretching from above his eyebrow down toward his neck.

Why?

The question arrived immediately.

Followed by another.

What happened?

Jungkook searched for the answer automatically.

The uncertainty barely had time to settle before the door clicked open.

Jungkook turned his head toward the sound.

The effort alone annoyed him.

His neck felt stiff. His body heavier than it had any right to be. Whoever walked through that door better be worth the movement.

Then he saw who it was.

And immediately regretted wasting the energy.

Ryung.

Of course.

The man stepped inside carrying his usual presence with him. The room seemed smaller the moment he entered, as though even hospital walls had to make space when he decided to occupy it.

For a second, Ryung simply stared.

Something close to surprise crossed his expression.

Jungkook sighed.

Or tried to.

It came out rougher than intended.

"Man," he muttered, struggling against the mattress. "We gotta talk."

Ryung's gaze sharpened immediately.

"You are awake?"

Jungkook rolled his functioning eye.

"What gave it away?" His voice scraped slightly. "The fact my eyes are open or the fact I'm talking?"

Silence.

The joke landed exactly where most of Jungkook's talks landed with that man.

Nowhere.

Ryung continued looking at him strangely.

Jungkook planted a hand against the mattress and pushed himself upward.
The movement hurt more than expected.
Not sharp pain.
Weakness.

The kind that made him feel ninety years old.

Before he got very far, Ryung stepped forward. One hand already lifting to help steady him.

Jungkook immediately pointed at him.

"Stop."

Ryung paused.

"We aren't close."

The words came out automatically.

Simple.

Matter-of-fact.

And yet something strange flickered across Ryung's face before he stepped back again.

Jungkook ignored it.

He finally managed to sit upright against the raised hospital bed, breathing a little harder afterward.

His hand drifted toward the side of his face again.

The bandages.

Still there.

Still covering far too much.

He frowned.

"Why am I on the bed?"

No answer came immediately.

Which only made his irritation grow.

Jungkook touched the fabric carefully.
The texture stretched from his scalp down toward his jaw. His fingers followed the edge. Too much fabric.

A quiet discomfort settled in his stomach.

"Is it a bandage on my face?"

Ryung remained standing near the door.

Watching him.

The silence lasted long enough that Jungkook finally looked up.

"Never mind."

The answer could wait.

There was something more important.

His gaze shifted toward the empty doorway again.

"Where's my keepsake?"

The question left him easily.

Naturally.

As though the answer should already be standing beside his bed.

Instead, silence settled over the room.

Not uncomfortable.

Not tense.

Just strangely heavy.

Then movement appeared beyond the doorway.

Jungkook looked up.

And immediately forgot every other question.

A figure stepped inside.

Fragile.

Pale.

Familiar enough to make something unclench inside Jungkook's chest instantly.

Taehyung.

His keepsake carried a bundle against his chest, wrapped carefully in a light blanket. Most of it disappeared beneath the folds, leaving only a glimpse of white fabric near the top.

Jungkook barely noticed.

Relief hit first.

Everything else came later.

"Keepsake."

The word escaped before he thought about it.

He pushed against the mattress again, trying to sit straighter despite the protest from his body.

"When did you wake up?"

His voice carried more urgency now.

More life.

"Are you fine?"

Taehyung stopped.

The movement was so abrupt it looked almost accidental.

His eyes lifted.

Those monolids widened slightly the moment they settled over Jungkook.

Ever so slightly. A flicker.
A crack in still water.

Jungkook felt his headache pulse suddenly behind his remaining eye.

Sharp.

Gone just as quickly.

He cursed under his breath.

Whatever.

His keepsake was standing.

Breathing.

Looking at him.

That alone settled something restless inside his ribs.

The relief arrived so quickly it almost embarrassed him.

He leaned back against the bed with a long exhale.

"I know you love your brother."

His voice softened slightly.

"But keepsake, you can't keep collapsing every time that jerk does."

The memory surfaced clearly enough.

Vhyung coughing blood.

Taehyung immediately following.

The image still made his stomach tighten.

"I got scared."

The admission came easier than expected.

Because it was true.

Jungkook had been terrified.

Terrified enough that the feeling lingered even now.

The room remained silent afterward.

Not awkward.

Just quiet.

Taehyung finally took a step forward.

Then another.

Slowly.

His grip tightened slightly around the bundle resting against his chest.

Jungkook watched him approach.

Something about him felt different.

Not wrong.

Just...

quieter.

The realization settled before Jungkook understood why.

Taehyung's lips parted slightly.

Like he intended to say something.

The shape of a word almost formed.

Then disappeared.

Nothing came out.

Not a sound.

The silence returned immediately afterward.

"Keepsake?"

Jungkook frowned.

Taehyung had stopped responding entirely. His gaze flickered past him automatically, expecting another figure to appear behind the doorway.

"Hana?"

Nothing.

Jungkook looked back toward Ryung instead.

"Where's Hana?"

The question seemed to land strangely.

Ryung stepped forward from behind Taehyung.

Slowly.

"Hana?"

Jungkook blinked.

Already irritated.

"Yes, Hana."

His hand rubbed against his forehead.
Immediately regretting it when another pulse of pain spread through his skull.

"She was here. I just talked to her. Then we agreed to talk... no?" He pointed vaguely toward Ryung. "Which reminds me... what the hell am I doing in this bed?"

No answer came.

The irritation grew.

"Vhyung was the injured one."

Jungkook looked between them.

"Keepsake is fine." His hand moved toward the bandages covering half his face again. "Then why does my head feel like someone dropped a building on it?"

The silence stretched.

Heavy.

Uncomfortable.

For reasons Jungkook couldn't understand.

Then suddenly--

Taehyung turned.

And walked away.

The movement happened so quickly Jungkook almost thought he imagined it.

"Keepsake?"

Nothing.

Taehyung kept walking.

Straight through the doorway.
Taking the strange bundle with him.
For one ridiculous second Jungkook felt something physically leave with him.

Like the room had lost air.

"Ouch."

He pressed a hand against the mattress and pushed himself upright again despite the immediate protest from every muscle in his body.

"Keepsake."

Still no response.

Jungkook clicked his tongue.

Honestly unbelievable.

"You can't ignore your poor husband just because your brother showed up."

The words followed Taehyung into the hallway.

Nothing came back.

Not a glance.

Not a pause.

Not even the courtesy of pretending to care.

Jungkook stared at the empty doorway.

Offended.
Genuinely offended.
Then he looked toward Ryung.

"This is his fault, isn't it?"

Ryung remained completely expressionless.

Which Jungkook took as confirmation.

"I knew it."

He pointed accusingly toward the hall.

"That jerk appears for one day and suddenly I stop existing."

The headache behind his eye throbbed again.

Ryung left after that.

Jungkook watched the door close behind him before finally pushing himself off the bed. The movement made his entire body protest. Not pain exactly. More like strange weakness buried deep inside muscle and bone. As though his body had forgotten movement altogether and was now being forced to remember.

He steadied himself against the wall and stepped into the corridor.

The first thing that felt wrong was the silence.

Not the usual kind hospital silence.

There should have been nurses. Patients. The distant noise of machines and people existing together. Instead the corridor stretched ahead almost empty, expensive enough to resemble a private residence more than a medical facility.

A frown slowly appeared on Jungkook's face.

This wasn't the hospital.

The realization settled quietly at first.

He stopped walking.

Looked around again.

The walls. The windows. The dark wood beneath his feet.

None of it matched the place where they had brought Taehyung and Vhyung.

His stomach tightened.

Then his gaze caught on the reflection staring back at him from the window.

Jungkook froze.

For a moment he genuinely didn't recognize himself.

The hospital clothes were easy enough to understand. The exhaustion too. But the bandages--

His breath caught.

They covered nearly half his face.

White fabric disappeared beneath the collar of his shirt before continuing downward along his neck. The sight was so unexpected that he found himself stepping closer to the glass without realizing it.

Slowly he lifted the edge of his shirt.

The bandages ended near his ribs.

The skin didn't.

Uneven patches stretched across the left side of his torso, disappearing beneath fresh medical dressings. Even through the distance of the reflection he could tell something terrible had happened there.

His hand dropped immediately.

The corridor suddenly felt colder.

What happened to him?

The question arrived harder this time.

His thoughts rushed backward automatically.

Hana.

The hospital room.

Her laughter breaking through tears.

The way she shoved at his chest and called him ridiculous.

The memory remained clear right until that point.

After that--

nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

Jungkook stared at himself through the glass.

The panic didn't arrive all at once. It crept in slowly, settling beneath his ribs with terrifying familiarity.

Because he knew this feeling.

Eight years ago he had opened his eyes with same kind of wounds and a hole carved into his memories. He remembered searching for answers then too. Remembered the sick certainty that something important existed just beyond his reach.

The resemblance hit hard enough to make his throat tighten.

No.

His gaze snapped away from the reflection.

No.

Not again.

"Hana?"

The name left his mouth before he realized he was speaking.

The corridor answered with silence.

Jungkook turned immediately.

"Keepsake?"

This time the call came louder.

Urgent.

His steps quickened.

A strange dread had already begun spreading through his chest. Not because nobody answered. Because somewhere deep inside himself he felt as though he already knew something was wrong.

With another call, he finally found him.

There.

His keepsake was right there.

The dread that had been clawing through him since waking up eased enough for him to breathe properly again.

Jungkook hurried toward him.

His body hated every step. The weakness. The headache. The strange pulling sensation beneath the bandages stretching across half his face. None of it mattered.

"Keepsake."

The name left him softer this time.

Closer.

His arms were already lifting before he reached him.

But before Jungkook could touch him, Taehyung moved first.

The distance disappeared in a heartbeat.

Taehyung stepped into him and wrapped both arms around Jungkook's neck. The impact nearly knocked the breath from his lungs. His keepsake buried his face against the side of Jungkook's throat immediately, holding on with a quiet desperation that made something ache deep inside his chest.

Jungkook froze.

Only for a second.

Then relief crashed through him all at once.

His arms closed around Taehyung instinctively, pulling him closer until there wasn't space left between them. The familiar weight settled against him. Warm. Real. Breathing.

For a moment he simply stood there holding him.

The panic that had followed him through the corridor drained away piece by piece.

His eyes slipped shut.

And finally--

he breathed.

The scent reached him immediately.

Sweet.

Soft.

Muskmelon.

So familiar it almost hurt.

The smell filled his lungs and burned there, not because it was painful, but because it carried something his mind recognized long before thought could catch up. Something safe. Something precious enough that his body relaxed around it without permission.

Jungkook lowered his head slightly.

The side of his face brushed dark hair.

Warm.

His keepsake was warm.

Not the usual cold skin he always complained about. Not fingers like ice pressed into his neck just to annoy him.

Warm.

The realization struck strangely.

Enough that he pulled back slightly before immediately tightening his hold again.

No.

He wasn't letting go.

Never.

His hand slid upward, settling against the back of Taehyung's head. There was comfort in the simple weight of him. In the steady rise and fall of his breathing. In the way Taehyung remained tucked against him as though this was where he belonged.

Jungkook exhaled slowly.

The knot inside his chest finally loosened.

His keepsake was alive.

Here.

Holding onto him.

For him, that was enough.

.

.

.

Few hours later.

"Are you serious?" Jungkook stopped in the middle of the corridor and stared at the older man in disbelief.

The audacity.

The absolute audacity.

He wakes up after God knows how long, remembers absolutely nothing about being here, finds his keepsake for barely a few minutes, and somehow Taehyung vanishes again.

Not only vanishes.

Leaves him with Ryung.

Jungkook narrowed his eyes immediately.

That part felt intentional.
Suspiciously intentional.
"What are you?" Ryung asked flatly. "A child?"

"Who runs away from a treatment room?" He continued.

Jungkook scoffed.

"Maybe someone who woke up in a place he doesn't remember."

His hand gestured vaguely around them.

"This place."

Then toward Ryung.

"And you."

The accusation landed directly where he intended.

Ryung looked unimpressed.

Jungkook continued anyway.

"I woke up, nobody explained anything, my head hurts every time I think too hard, Keepsake disappears, then you disappear, and somehow I'm supposed to sit quietly in a room like a cool adult?"

The older man rubbed a hand over his forehead.

Slowly.

Tiredly.

Like this conversation alone had added five more years to his life.

Jungkook pointed immediately.

"See?"

"See what?"

"That."

Ryung stared.

Jungkook looked vindicated.

"That exhausted look."

"The one you're giving me right now."

Ryung closed his eyes briefly.

Jungkook folded his arms.

"Exactly."

The silence that followed lasted only a few seconds.

Then Ryung exhaled through his nose.

Jungkook watched him carefully.

Then frowned.

"...Where is Keepsake anyway?"

The question came quieter this time.

"Your God will be back," Ryung said. "Don't throw a fit."

"Okay... That reminds me."

The older man already seemed tired.

"Who are you?"

No answer came.

Jungkook continued anyway.

"I wanted to ask earlier." He frowned. "Who exactly are you to him?"

Ryung lowered himself into one of the chairs lining the corridor.

Calmly.

Almost suspiciously calm.

"Your Godfather."

Jungkook stared.

Then snorted.

"Are you for real?."

The masked man looked entirely unbothered.

Jungkook sighed heavily.

There was absolutely no point trying to drag answers out of this man. Every conversation somehow ended with Ryung sounding like he was mocking him while simultaneously refusing to explain anything.

His attention shifted instead.

To the question that had been bothering him from the moment he woke up.

"What happened to me?"

For the first time, Ryung answered without hesitation.

"You got into a car accident."

Jungkook frowned.

The explanation landed strangely.

Too clean.

Too simple.

"A car accident?"

"A few weeks ago."

His brows pulled together.

"Then why do I only remember things from three months ago?"

Ryung remained quiet for a moment before replying.

"The doctors believe you're suffering from memory loss."

The words settled heavily inside his chest.

Memory loss.

Again?

Something cold slid down his spine.

No.
God... Not again.

"This is rubbish."

Jungkook folded his arms.

The diagnosis sounded ridiculous. The explanation sounded worse.

Ryung merely nodded once, as if he completely agreed.

Jungkook opened his mouth, ready to continue the argument, when movement at the far end of the corridor caught his attention.

His keepsake.

The irritation vanished instantly.

Taehyung was walking toward them, pale fingers wrapped around something bundled carefully against his chest. Jungkook's expression brightened without permission.

His gaze remained fixed on Taehyung until something finally registered.

The bundle.

He frowned.

Taehyung was carrying it from before.

Jungkook leaned forward.

A corner of the blanket slipped.

Something small appeared between the folds.

For a second his brain failed to process it.

A patch of skin.

Then a tiny nose.

A pair of wide open eyes.
So small.

Jungkook froze.

The world seemed to pause around him while he stared at the impossible thing occupying the exact place he believed rightfully belonged to him.

His mouth opened.

Closed.

Opened again.

Then he looked at Taehyung.

Looked at the bundle.

Looked back at Taehyung.

"A baby?"

The words came out far louder than intended.

Jungkook blinked once.

Twice.

Still staring.

"A whole baby?"

"Keepsake." Jungkook's eyes remained fixed on the bundle.
"Why do you have a baby?"

Taehyung stopped in front of him.

The baby yawned.

Jungkook looked horrified.

"Don't make it so dramatic," Ryung said.

Jungkook turned immediately.

"Dramatic?"

He pointed at the tiny human occupying Taehyung's arms.

"I was gone for months and now my husband is carrying an infant."

The baby stretched.

Jungkook looked back at it.

Then at Taehyung.

Then back at it.

His brain appeared to be struggling.

"Keepsake," he said carefully. "Whose baby is this?"

No answer came.

His frown deepened.

"Why do you have somebody's baby?"

The question hung in the air.

Then Ryung spoke from behind him.

"Don't goddamn break. It's Vhyung's and Hana's child."

Jungkook nodded automatically.

"Oh."

The information settled.

Reasonable.

Completely normal.

He nodded again.

"That's..."

His gaze drifted toward the baby.

Then back toward Ryung.

"Vhyung's and Hana's--"

The words stopped.

Everything stopped.

Jungkook's head snapped around so fast his neck nearly followed.

"Hana's WHAT?"

The corridor went silent.

The baby blinked.

Jungkook stared at Ryung.

Then at Taehyung.

Then back at Ryung again.

"Hana?"

His voice cracked somewhere between disbelief and confusion.

"Hana's baby?"

Another pause.

Longer this time.

Jungkook looked down at the infant once more.

Tiny nose.

Tiny hands.

Tiny existence.

His expression slowly changed.

Because suddenly a completely different realization arrived.

"Oh my God."

His eyes widened.

"Hana's pregnant?"

The baby sneezed.

Jungkook nearly jumped.

"Hana was pregnant," Ryung corrected.

The words landed.

Jungkook's expression emptied.

Then horror flooded in.

Followed immediately by rage.

"What?"

The shout echoed down the corridor.

The baby startled visibly.

Tiny shoulders jumping beneath the blanket.

Taehyung's head snapped up.

The glare that followed could have killed a lesser man.

Jungkook lowered his volume.

"That jerk got my sister pregnant?"

"Oh, he's dead."

He nodded to himself.

"He's absolutely dead."

The infant made a small sound.

Jungkook pointed accusingly toward the bundle.

"Not you... Stop complaining to my husband."

Then immediately turned back.

"Where's Hana?"

His body was already moving.

One step.

Then another.

Ready to find her himself if nobody else intended to be useful.

"And where the hell is that bastard?"

The question came out even harsher.

Ryung remained seated.

Entirely too calm.

"They aren't here."

Jungkook stopped.

"What?"

"They aren't here."

The answer somehow made less sense the second time.

Jungkook looked at the baby.

Then at Ryung.

Then back at the baby.

His eyebrows pulled together.

"You just said this is their child."

"Yes."

"The baby is here."

"Yes."

Jungkook waited.

Nothing followed.

His patience died immediately.

"The baby is here," he repeated. "So where the fuck are they?"

"They went on a second honeymoon."

Silence.

The corridor itself seemed offended.

Jungkook stared.

Taehyung looked away.

And Ryung sat there with the expression of a man who had deliberately thrown gasoline onto an open fire.

Jungkook's eye twitched.

"A second honeymoon."

Ryung nodded.

"A second honeymoon."

The repetition somehow made it worse.

Blood pressure rising rapidly, Jungkook looked toward the ceiling for divine assistance.

Eww... NO.

"Then why is the baby here?"

Jungkook looked genuinely disturbed by the situation.

Ryung didn't even glance up.

"Because V likes the baby most."

The answer somehow created more questions than it solved.

Jungkook stared for a second before slowly lowering his head toward the bundle.

The baby stared back.

Unimpressed.

Unblinking.

Tiny.

Judgmental.

Jungkook didn't appreciate it.

His attention shifted toward Taehyung instead.

"Keepsake."

Taehyung looked at him.

"You aren't supposed to like it--"

"Him."

Taehyung corrected.

Jungkook stopped.

"Oh."

His eyes dropped toward the infant again.

"A boy."

The baby continued staring.

Jungkook narrowed his eyes.

Then looked back at Taehyung.

"Fine. Him." He frowned. "Why do you need to like a baby?"

The question sounded completely reasonable in his own head.

"You have me."

From somewhere beside him, Ryung reached over and placed a hand on his shoulder. The gesture carried the energy of somebody attempting to comfort a deeply unfortunate person.

"Jeon."

"What?"

"You're a grown-ass man."

Jungkook immediately shoved the hand away.

"I don't see how that's relevant."

"It is extremely relevant."

"No, it isn't."

The baby made a small sound.

Both men looked down automatically.

The infant remained bundled securely against Taehyung's chest, perfectly content, staring upward with unwavering concentration.

At Taehyung.

Only Taehyung.

Not once had the little human looked anywhere else.

Jungkook watched the scene unfold.

Watched the tiny hand wrapped around Taehyung's finger.

Watched Taehyung adjust the blanket slightly.

Watched the baby continue staring.

"This little brat."

The words slipped out under his breath.

The baby blinked.

Then continued shamelessly staring at Taehyung as though nothing else existed.

"Why are you being so childish?" Ryung asked. "That's your sister's son."

The words landed casually.

Almost absentmindedly.

Then Jungkook stopped walking.

His expression froze.

The irritation disappeared.

The jealousy disappeared.

Even the suspicion disappeared.

For a moment he simply stood there.

His sister's son.

The thought rolled through his head once.

Then again.

His eyes slowly drifted toward the baby.

The tiny nose.

The tiny hands.

The ridiculously small human currently wrapped like a dumpling inside Taehyung's arms.

His sister's son.

Jungkook's mouth opened.

Closed.

Opened again.

Then realization struck.

"Oh... OH!!"

He spun toward Ryung.

Then toward Taehyung.

Then toward the baby.

A grin exploded across his face.

"Hana'S BABY."

The announcement came louder.

Jungkook pointed at himself.

"Do you understand this?"

"No."

"I'm an uncle."

"CONGRATULATIONS."

Jungkook attention had already returned to the baby.

A completely different expression settling over his face now.

Wonder.

Disbelief.

Excitement.

All at once.

Slowly, he moved closer.

The baby blinked up at him.

Jungkook blinked back.

For the first time he actually examined him properly.

The tiny nose.

The round cheeks.

The ridiculously small fingers curled against the blanket.

Something softened inside his chest.

"He looks so cute." The judgment came instantly. "Just like his mother."

Silence.

Ryung turned his head slowly.

Painfully slowly.

Jungkook didn't notice.

Still busy admiring his nephew.

"Those eyes are definitely Hana's."

"Hm."

"The face too."

"Hm."

"The whole thing, actually."

Ryung rubbed the bridge of his nose.

Then finally asked,

"Are you complimenting the baby or yourself?"

Jungkook folded his arms.

"You got a problem?"

The older man looked between older baby and the baby.

Then, apparently deciding he had witnessed enough nonsense for one day, stepped forward and took the child from Taehyung's arms.

The baby didn't protest.

His tiny fist remained stubbornly wrapped around Taehyung's finger until the last possible second.

Jungkook watched the betrayal happen in real time.

"Keepsake."

Taehyung looked at him.

"He definitely likes you more."

Ryung adjusted the blanket around the infant.

"Most people do."

With that, he turned and walked down the corridor.

"Wait."

Ryung paused near the door.

Jungkook frowned.

"What's his name?"

For a moment nobody answered.

The baby yawned against Ryung's shoulder.

Then Taehyung spoke.

"Dresh."

Jungkook looked toward him immediately.

Those monolids remained fixed on the child.

"Dresh Mogilevich."

The name settled quietly into the room.

Dresh.

Jungkook rolled it around in his head once.

Then the surname caught up.

Mogilevich.

His expression shifted slightly.

Not enough for anyone else to notice.

Just enough for the thought to linger.

Hana Mogilevich.

The combination felt strange.

Not wrong.

Just unfamiliar.

He remembered Hana Jeon.

The girl who looked exactly like him.
The girl who stole his food when they were children and somehow convinced everyone it was his fault.

Now apparently she had a son carrying their mother's surname.

The realization made him smile despite himself.

Life moved fast.

Far too fast when people weren't asking his permission first.

His gaze drifted toward the baby again.

Dresh.

His nephew.

The thought felt oddly satisfying.

The kid didn't know it yet, but he had gotten incredibly lucky.

"He's got a good name."

The judgment came after careful consideration.

Nobody objected.

Ryung adjusted the blanket around the infant before finally looking toward Taehyung.

"I'll send the doctor."

A small nod followed.

The baby peeked over Ryung's shoulder.

Jungkook lifted a hand immediately.

The baby stared.

Expressionless.

Then disappeared around the corner.

Jungkook lowered his arm.

"Rude."

Taehyung approached him instead of answering.

The distance between them vanished quickly.

A pale hand settled against Jungkook's shoulder before gently guiding him back toward the room.

"I'm fine."

Taehyung continued walking.

Jungkook continued talking.

"I can walk by myself."

Another step.

"Keepsake."

Another.

"I literally just proved I can walk."

By the time the protest ended, he was already sitting on the edge of the bed.

Jungkook looked down.

Then up at Taehyung.

Then down again.

The realization arrived annoyingly late.

"You tricked me."

Taehyung remained completely innocent.

Jungkook narrowed his eyes.

His keepsake simply stood there beside the bed, close enough that Jungkook could reach out and touch him whenever he wanted.

The irritation faded almost immediately.

The room settled into a comfortable silence.

.

.

.

Jungkook sat impatiently while the doctor worked through the last of the bandages covering the left side of his face. Small scissors moved carefully against the gauze. Every few moments another layer loosened and fell away, exposing skin that had remained hidden for months.

The entire process irritated him.

Not because of the discomfort.

Because nobody was telling him anything.

"I got into an accident?"

The question came out suddenly.

Not directed at the doctor.

At him.

His keepsake sat close enough that their knees nearly touched.

Taehyung looked up.

A single blink followed.

Yes.

Jungkook looked away immediately.

The answer only made the frustration worse.

Eight years ago his father stood over another hospital bed and explained away his injuries was because of an self caused accident. Back then Jungkook had accepted it because he didn't know any better. Now Ryung expected him to believe a completely different story, and somehow it felt just as hollow.

A car accident... Seriously?
Three months unconscious because of a car accident.

The explanation fit too neatly.
Like something prepared beforehand.

His jaw tightened.

Yet every time he looked at Taehyung, that certainty weakened. His keepsake didn't lie. If Taehyung said yes, then part of Jungkook wanted to accept it without question.

The other part couldn't stop feeling as though he had walked into the middle of a conversation everyone else already understood.

The doctor finally finished and stepped back.

"There."

Jungkook barely heard him.

His attention had already shifted toward Taehyung.

For a brief moment neither of them spoke. Taehyung simply watched him with those quiet eyes while Jungkook tried unsuccessfully to read whatever remained hidden behind them.

Then something caught at the edge of his vision.

A reflection.

Jungkook turned fully toward the mirror.

Then stopped.

The world seemed to tilt slightly beneath his feet.

For a second he genuinely thought he was looking at somebody standing behind the glass.

Something twisted.

His gaze climbed slowly over the reflection.

Past the familiar shoulder.
Past the hospital clothes.
And landed on the left side of his face.

His stomach dropped.

The burn began above his brow and swallowed everything beneath it. The skin around the eye had collapsed into uneven ridges, dragging downward across his cheek before disappearing beneath his jaw. It looked less like flesh and more like something melted and forced back together before it finished cooling.

Jungkook stared.

Unable to look away.

Unable to keep looking.

The left eye remained open.

Motionless.

Empty.

He could see it in the reflection.

Could watch it staring back at him.

Yet there was nothing there.

No vision.

No sensation.

No connection between that eye and the man standing in front of the mirror.

His throat tightened violently.

Because that didn't stop there.

The burn continued downward.

Past his neck.

Past the collar.

Stretching beneath the fabric of the hospital shirt like something alive had crawled over him and eaten its way through half his body before finally dying.

A wave of nausea hit so suddenly he grabbed the edge of the table beside him.

His fingers whitened.

The reflection copied him.
The thing inside the glass moved when he moved. Breathed when he breathed. Blinking from one side only..Looking human from one angle.

Looking monstrous from the other.

Jungkook felt his stomach twist.
Feeling the kind of revulsion that arrived before thought.

Instinctive.

Brutal.

His gaze snapped away.

Immediately.

Then returned a second later as if he couldn't stop himself.

The sight struck just as hard.

He tried blinking again.

Nothing.

The left eye remained open inside the reflection, staring back at him with the same dead stillness.

His hand rose instinctively, fingers hovering near the damaged skin before stopping short. He couldn't bring himself to touch it again.

Then something warm brushed against his cheek.

Wet.

Soft.

Jungkook gasped.

His entire body jerked.

For a moment he genuinely thought he imagined it.

Then he saw him.

Taehyung's reflection appeared behind his shoulder.

Close.

Far too close.

Those dark strands of hair brushed against Jungkook's neck as his keepsake leaned forward, face turned toward the ruined side of him.

Taehyung's lips rested against the damaged skin beneath his eye.

The contact was gentle.

Desperate.

As though he had been searching for that piece of Jungkook the entire time.

Jungkook couldn't feel the kiss itself.

Only the faint moisture left behind.

Yet somehow that made everything worse.

The reflection remained there.

Unforgiving.

Showing him exactly what Taehyung was touching.

The warped skin.
The uneven flesh.
The ugly destruction stretching down half his face.

A sick feeling crawled through his chest.

How could he look like this?

The thought struck harder than before.

How could he possibly look like this?

And how could Taehyung--

His breath caught.

God.

How could his keepsake stand so close How could he look directly at it?
How could he touch it?

Jungkook turned his head sharply, trying to pull away from the reflection, from the kiss, from all of it.

But Taehyung wouldn't let him.

A hand caught his jaw immediately. His keepsake held his face between both hands and turned him back.

Jungkook resisted.

For a second.

Then another.

The grip never loosened.

Those pale fingers trembled against his skin.

Yet they refused to let him hide.

Slowly, unwillingly, Jungkook found himself looking up.

Directly into those monolids.

They shimmered.

Not with comfort.

Not with pity.

Something quieter.

Something that settled beneath Jungkook's ribs and stayed there.

The ruined reflection remained trapped inside the mirror beside them, waiting for him whenever his gaze drifted. The melted skin. The dead eye. The ugly stretch of flesh running downward beneath the collar of his shirt.

Yet every time he looked back at Taehyung, it seemed to matter less.

Not because it disappeared.

Because those eyes refused to linger there.

They held him instead.

Steady.

Unmoving.

The way they always had.

Jungkook's throat tightened.

A strange ache spread through his chest.

His keepsake's hands remained against his face, fingers resting over ruined skin without hesitation, without curiosity, without the slightest trace of disgust.

As though the shape of him had never been the important thing.

As though something else had always existed beneath it.

Something worth holding onto.

Something worth mourning for months.

The thought hurt.

God.

It hurt.

Because the devotion inside Jungkook had never been gentle.

It had teeth.

It had claws.

It had survived memory loss and graves and blood and fire.

And now, staring into those shimmering monolids, he found that same devotion reflected back at him so naturally it almost stole the air from his lungs.

Beyond the shape of it all.

The words never came.

They didn't need to.

They sat there anyway.

Quietly.

Like truth.

Taehyung leaned closer.

The movement was so small Jungkook almost missed it.

Then warm breath touched his skin.

His keepsake's gaze never left his.

Not for a second.

Not even when the distance disappeared completely.

The kiss landed at the melted corner of his mouth.

And Jungkook stopped breathing.

Because there was nothing careful about it.

Nothing hesitant.

The contact lingered with the same terrible desperation Jungkook had spent years carrying for this man.

The same desperate thing that made prayers feel too small.

The same thing that made worship feel insufficient.

His keepsake kissed him as though he was trying to reach something buried beneath flesh.

As though the ruined skin was merely another layer standing between them.

Jungkook felt his chest tighten painfully.

The mirror blurred.

The room blurred.

Everything seemed to drift further away.

Leaving only the warmth resting against damaged flesh and the faint tremor that passed through Taehyung when he pressed closer.

Not looking away.

Not stopping.

Not letting go.

And suddenly Jungkook couldn't bring himself to care what the reflection looked like.

Because his God was here.

A Soul Consigned to His Sovereignty.

Keepsake.

.

.

.

We leave them here.
The rest belongs to them.