found and lost

Before he could sink further into his concerns, his phone rang again. It was Taehyung. In the early morning, Taehyung was back from his trip to Tokyo.

After learning about the accident from Jimin, he decided to accompany Jungkook in the hospital.

But still, he was not here. Maybe he was tired. However, Jungkook's response was curt, a reflection of his inner turmoil. Slipping on his earbuds, Jungkook answered, "I was waiting for you."

Taehyung's voice came through, a stark contrast to Jungkook's somber mood, "I have something to ask you."

Jungkook's eyes narrowed at his words, but still, he had to hear him. His reply was brief, a single phrase that carried the weight of his current state, "Go ahead."

"What should I buy for the army girl?" he asked, oblivious to the gravity of the situation.

Jungkook felt a twinge of frustration at the question. Was he out of his mind, or did Jimin forget to tell him that the army girl is in a coma!

With a weary hand, Jungkook massaged his temple, the beginnings of a headache throbbing behind his eyes.

He wasn't in the mood for explanations or to delve into the absurdity of the question. His mind was already burdened with concern for the girl's unique condition, a mystery.

Taking a deep breath, Jungkook sought to end the conversation swiftly, to refocus on what mattered. "Apple," he replied tersely, a single word to close the topic.

"Apple?" Taehyung's playful voice echoed, seeking confirmation. He was not ready to close the topic!

"Yes," Jungkook affirmed, his patience fraying at the edges.

A sigh traveled through the line. "Ah, shoot… I forgot to bring my credit card. After buying apples, I won't have any cash left."

Frustration crept into Jungkook's tone. "I have one, you can use mine."

The conversation shifted to logistics, but Taehyung's playful tone persisted, even as he navigated the crowded terminal. "Which ward is she in?" he asked, his voice a blend of concern and mischief.

"23," Jungkook replied, his tone firm, trying to anchor himself in the reality of the situation.

"Are you staying there?" Taehyung teased, his lightheartedness a stark contrast to Jungkook's solemnity.

"Yes," Jungkook answered, his voice betraying a hint of defensiveness.

Taehyung's laughter echoed through the earbuds, a sound that seemed out of place in the quiet of the ward. "Oh… huh…"

Jungkook's anger flared, a sharp edge to his words. "Why? Is there a problem with that?"

Realizing his misstep, Taehyung's tone softened. "No, no. Of course not."

"Then what are you waiting for?" Jungkook pressed, his voice a command more than a question.

"I'm coming, man, I'm coming," Taehyung assured quickly and hung up the call before Jungkook could become more angry.

Looking at the phone screen, Jungkook shook his head. Taehyung must be in high spirits after meeting his girlfriend in Tokyo.

He exhaled deeply and turned back to the girl, her peaceful visage a silent rebuke to the chaos of his emotions. He glanced at the girl one last time before leaving the room.

---

Collapsed on the cold, unforgiving floor, the girl was a portrait of despair. Her head buried between her knees, each sob that shook her frame was a silent testament to the agony that gripped her.

Tears, those silent harbingers of sorrow, streamed unchecked down her cheeks, each one a drop in the ocean of her grief. Her breaths were stifled sniffs, each inhale a battle against the crushing weight of her heartache.

She clutched at her chest, where the pain was most acute, as if trying to hold together a heart that felt like it was splintering into a thousand pieces.

Summoning a strength that seemed at odds with her shattered poise, she rose. The corridor around her was a blur, a sterile expanse that stretched endlessly before her. With trembling limbs, she compelled herself to move forward, her footsteps a hollow echo in the quiet hall.

Sweat mingled with tears, tracing lines of anguish across her skin. She fought to regain control, her hands wiping at her face in a vain effort to banish the emotions that threatened to overwhelm her.

Her descent was hasty, a flight down the stairs driven by a need to escape the turmoil within. The basement, dim and foreboding, was her refuge, yet even there, peace eluded her. Without warning, the stark glare of headlights invaded her vision, a car materializing from the void, hurtling towards her with relentless speed.

"AHHH…" The scream that tore from her lips was primal, a raw expression of terror. Her breaths came heavy and ragged, slicing through the stillness as her eyes, wide with fear, struggled to comprehend her reality. The room snapped into focus, its clinical coldness a stark contrast to the warmth of life.

Nurses and a doctor clustered around her bed, their presence a jarring anchor to the world she wished to flee. Was this nightmare merely a figment of her imagination, or had her life twisted into a horror too real to bear?

Her breaths, once ragged with fear, now settled into a rhythm that hinted at calm. The nurse's voice, a soft murmur in Korean, floated to her, "Are you all right? How are you feeling now?"

The army girl's eyes lifted, sweeping over the nurse with an intensity that belied her vulnerability. Her gaze was a mosaic of emotions—fear, shock, confusion, and a piercing pain that seemed to radiate from her very core.

The nurse and Dr. Lee shared a look, their silent exchange heavy with concern. Dr. Lee stepped closer, his voice a gentle stream meant to soothe, "Ms., can you hear me?" Her eyes, still shadowed by terror, met his, yet she offered no words, her silence a fortress she wasn't ready to breach. His questions were met with a narrowing of her eyes, a subtle defense as she drew the quilt tighter around herself, a shield against the world.

Dr. Lee's attention remained fixed on the enigmatic figure before him. Her swift recovery, the necklace that hinted at untold wealth, and her mysterious identity—all pieces of a puzzle that refused to be solved. Her silence, now another layer to the mystery, only deepened the intrigue.

With a sigh that carried the weight of his profession, he instructed the nurse, "Run all the tests, and send me the reports." He then withdrew, leaving the ward for the quietude of his cabin, where Jungkook awaited, a bundle of nerves and anticipation.

The moment Dr. Lee appeared, Jungkook surged forward, his anxiety tangible in the air. "How is she now? Is she okay?" he asked, his voice laced with a concern that seemed to vibrate through the room.

Dr. Lee's patience was fraying, worn thin by the girl's silent treatment and now Jungkook's impatience. "I don't know," he responded, the fatigue in his voice mirroring the exhaustion in his bones.

Jungkook's brows knitted together, his frustration mounting. This was the same non-answer he'd received when she'd fallen into a coma, the same when her fracture healed with unnatural speed. "Why do you always have the same answer? You're the doctor. If you don't know, then who does?"

"Man, calm down," Dr. Lee's voice cut through the tension, his own frustration making a rare appearance. He strode to his desk, the clink of the glass he filled with water echoing in the charged silence. With a swift tilt, he drank deeply, as if the liquid could wash away the day's perplexities. "She just woke up from her coma. How am I supposed to say anything about her condition when she won't speak?"

Jungkook's stance softened at the sight of Dr. Lee's vexation. He knew the respect that was due; after all, Dr. Lee had been a senior to RM, and both had walked the hallowed halls of the same university. The last thing Jungkook wanted was to let his frustration spill over in front of a man he held in high esteem.

He inhaled deeply, the breath steadying his nerves, and settled into the chair. Yet, his mind caught something, a detail that piqued his curiosity. "Not ready to speak? What do you mean by that?" he inquired, his tone now laced with a genuine quest for understanding.

Dr. Lee, his posture slumping with the weight of the day, explained the situation before sinking into his chair, the leather creaking under the burden of unsolved mysteries. Jungkook's mind raced, and then, like the first break of dawn, realization lit up his features. "Wait, could it be she didn't grasp your words?"

Dr. Lee's expression morphed from confusion to contemplation. "What do you mean?"

Jungkook leaned forward, his theory taking shape. "I mean, she doesn't look Korean. Perhaps the language was a barrier, and when you spoke to her in Korean, she couldn't get it!"

A spark of clarity ignited in Dr. Lee's eyes, and with a snap of his fingers, he was on his feet. "Yes, that might just be the key. Let's go, try to talk to her in English." With a newfound resolve, he exited the cabin, Jungkook at his heels, both united in their mission to reach out to the enigmatic army girl.

---

The room was steeped in a hush, a canvas of sterile white and soft beeps from the monitors. The army girl lay there, her gaze skittering across the room like a startled bird, each movement painting a picture of raw, unfiltered emotion. Fear etched into the creases of her forehead, confusion danced in the depths of her eyes, and doubt lingered on the curve of her lips.

The door creaked open, a sliver of light from the hallway slicing through the dimness, casting long shadows that played upon the walls. Her head turned, a slow, deliberate motion that tracked the source of the intrusion.

Her eyes, wide and searching, latched onto the figure that emerged, and a spark of recognition flickered within them. "Jeon Jungkook," she whispered, her voice a fragile thread of sound that wove through the silence, binding everyone in the room.

Her voice was low, yet it resonated in the quiet room, reaching every ear. Dr. Lee, standing at the periphery, leaned in toward Jungkook, his voice a whisper barely above the rustle of his lab coat. "It seems like she is indeed your die-hard fan. Go and talk to her."

Jungkook's nod was almost imperceptible as he stepped forward, his presence a calm force in the storm of uncertainty. He pulled a chair close to her bedside, the legs scraping softly against the linoleum floor.

Sitting down, he offered her a smile, warm and reassuring, a beacon in her fog of confusion. "Are you feeling okay now?" he asked, his voice a gentle melody against the stark backdrop of the room.

She responded with a slight nod, a tremor in the gesture that spoke volumes. Jungkook's eyes softened, his brow furrowed with concern. "Umm… who are you? What's your name?" he ventured, each word carefully weighed and delivered.

Her lips parted, a breath drawn in as if to speak her truth. "I'm…" But then, as if the strings of her memory were suddenly severed, her expression crumbled. The smile that had begun to bloom wilted into a mask of panic. "I'm… Who am I?"

The words tumbled out, each one laced with a growing terror. Her breaths became short, uneven gasps, a staccato rhythm that mirrored the pounding of her heart. "Why… Why can't I remember it?"

Desperation swirled in her eyes, now darting frantically around the room, seeking an anchor in the maelstrom of her mind. Her body began to tremble, the sheets whispering with her movements, a symphony of silk and fear.

Jungkook's concern surged into full-blown panic. "Ca…calm down. Doctor… Dr. Lee!" His voice broke through the stillness, cracking with urgency. Dr. Lee was at her side in a heartbeat, his hands steady and sure as they sought to assess her condition.

But before he could utter words of comfort, her eyes fluttered—a delicate motion—and she slipped away into the darkness, her consciousness retreating to the only sanctuary it knew.