New hope

[ FLASHBACK ]

The room was quiet, save for the soft hum of medical equipment and the distant murmurs of hospital staff outside. Mrs. Dr. Lee sat by the bed, her presence a steady anchor in the storm of uncertainty that raged within the Army girl.

"You need to calm down first," Mrs. Lee began, her tone friendly yet professional, as she sought to provide comfort without overstepping her bounds.

"With today's technology. finding someone's identity can often be straightforward, but it's not always a quick process," she explained, maintaining eye contact to convey her openness and honesty.

she soothed, her voice a warm blanket wrapping around the cold dread that had settled in the girl's heart.

The Army girl sat on the bed, her body tense as if bracing against the invisible demons of her mind. The taste of salt lingered on her lips, the remnants of tears that had streamed freely down her cheeks, each one a silent harbinger of the sorrow that gripped her heart.

Her eyes, swollen from tears, lifted to meet Mrs. Dr. Lee's gaze. A glimmer of hope flickered within them, like the first ray of dawn piercing through a night sky.

Mrs. Lee continued, choosing her words with care. "It's important to focus on your recovery right now. Your amnesia appears to be temporary, and there are no major injuries on your head, which is a good sign,"

she said, her voice calm and reassuring. "According to your reports, you will eventually remember everything! However, memory recovery can be unpredictable. It's best to take it one step at a time."

The Army girl's response was hesitant, her voice a whisper that barely rose above the beeping of the heart monitor.

"Are you saying the truth???" she asked, her eyes doubtful, searching Mrs. Dr. Lee's face for the sincerity that her heart yearned to find.

The scent of antiseptic hung in the air, a constant reminder of the clinical reality they were in.

Yet, beneath it, there was a subtle undertone of lavender-Mrs. Dr. Lee's perfume, a small comfort in the sterile environment.

"Yes, I am being truthful with you," Mrs. Lee affirmed, using open body language to avoid triggering any negative emotions. "But I also want to be clear that while we're hopeful, we should be prepared for any outcome. Recovery can be a complex journey, and it's okay to feel uncertain."

The Army girl nodded, taking in Mrs. Lee's words. She clung to them like a lifeline, her breaths slowing as she fought to steady the erratic rhythm of her heart.

The Army girl started to think over it, her mind teetering on the edge of hope and despair, but Mrs. Lee stopped her, "Don't think too much about it. It will stress you.

Mrs. Lee offered a supportive smile. "For now, let's work on strategies to manage your stress. Counting numbers is a good technique. Let's try it together-One, Two, Three..."

The Army girl followed her lead, her voice a whispered echo, "One, two, three..." She continued to count, the numbers helped to anchor her, providing a rhythmic distraction from the swirling thoughts, a mantra to ward off the creeping anxiety.

Meanwhile, Mrs. Lee stood up from her seat, her silhouette framed against the fading light of the day. she reassured her once more. "I'll be right back," she promised, leaving a trail of lavender in her wake as she exited the room.

The room was silent but for the soft beeping of the heart monitor and the distant murmur of activity outside.

Soon, the quietude shattered with a gentle knock on the door, followed by the soft shuffle of footsteps. "Routine check," the voice called out—a prelude to entry.

The door swung open, revealing a nurse. Her blonde hair, neatly pinned back, stirred slightly as a gust of wind slipped through the window.

The Army girl's gaze locked onto the nurse's ocean-blue eyes, their warmth both calming and intriguing.

The nurse's heartwarming smile seemed to reach into the very core of the room. Her slim figure moved with grace, each step deliberate. In one hand, she held a manila file, its edges slightly creased from use.

The Army girl clutched the quilt tightly, her wariness etched into every fiber of her being. She found it hard to trust anyone after the memory loss.

She didn't know why, but she had this feeling that the whole world is her enemy, and she need to save herself from it. This was also one of the reasons she experienced panic attacks back then when she tried to remember herself, and her brain replied with nothing!

"Hello, Ms. Jeon," the nurse greeted, her voice tinged with excitement. The title felt unfamiliar, yet it was directed at her. The Army girl narrowed her eyes, studying the nurse's face.

Well, she was too beautiful to be a nurse! That was the first thought she had, but soon her eyes caught a deep scar on the nurse's forehead, right above her left eye, hidden behind the bangs. If one didn't pay attention, it would go unnoticed.

The nurse's face looked unusually familiar. Could it be that the nurse knew her? Knew her identity? Knew something? Hope surged within the Army girl—a fragile flame.

She swallowed the lump in her throat and asked, her voice trembling with reluctant hope, "Do—do you know me?"

The nurse, busy checking the drips, shook her head lightly. "Ahh… no, but I'm a big fan of your boyfriend!" Her casual remark was meant to be reassuring, but it only sowed seeds of confusion.

"My boyfriend??" The words slipped from the Army girl's lips, a murmur of bewilderment. The concept felt alien, a piece of a puzzle she couldn't place. Who was this phantom lover? Her mind raced, grasping at shadows.

Sensing the Army girl's feared and complex expression, the nurse quickly explained, "Don't worry, ma'am. I won't tell anyone about this. I know how sensitive this topic is…"

"Wait," the Army girl cut off the nurse as dozens of questions surged in her mind. Her heart clenched, a trapped bird beating against her ribs.

"Who is my boyfriend? H—how do you know about all this?" She pressed, her voice trembling with reluctant hope. The room seemed to close in around her, the beeping of the heart monitor accelerating in tandem with her rising panic.

The nurse glanced at the monitor, which showed her heart rate increasing by each second. She hastily extended a file toward the Army girl.

"Ms. Jeon, please, calm down. I'm not a stalker nor any obsessed fan. Here is the file—Jungkook sir gave me this information. It was necessary to fill the resume," she explained, her voice laced with urgency.

She glanced back and forth between the monitor and the Army girl, hoping her heart rate would return to normal.

The Army girl's hands trembled as she took the file, her eyes scanning the document, where certain details leaped out at her, bold and unyielding, sending her thoughts into a tailspin:

[PATIENT'S NAME: Ms. Apple Jeon;

AGE: 23;

EMERGENCY CONTACT:

NAME: Jeon Jungkook;

RELATIONSHIP TO PATIENT: Boyfriend]

Her breath caught in her throat, the revelation hitting her like a sudden gust of wind. The name 'Apple Jeon' felt both foreign and familiar, a name she should know but couldn't recall owning. And 'Jeon Jungkook'—the name that had been a solitary anchor in her sea of amnesia—was now labeled as her boyfriend.

The room spun around her, the beeping of the monitor a distant echo as she grappled with this new piece of her identity.

A boyfriend? Jungkook? The questions multiplied, each one a wave crashing over her, threatening to pull her under.

Before she could get lost in her thoughts, the nurse excused herself, "Ms. Jeon, I need to go now." She asked for the file, but the Army girl's instinct to cling to this newfound piece of her identity was immediate.

"Leave it here. I need it," she insisted, her voice a mix of command and desperation. The nurse bowed slightly, a gesture of respect and acquiescence. "Okay, ma'am," she complied, leaving the file with her as requested.

Alone now, the Army girl exhaled deeply, her eyes closing in an attempt to shut out the chaos that threatened to overwhelm her.

"Jeon Jungkook... what have you done to me?" she murmured, her breath quickening as a torrent of emotions threatened to break through her composure.

She snapped her eyes open, a determination flickering within. "No, I need to calm down... I need answers to my questions." She instructed herself, taking a deep, steadying breath.

Once more, she sought the solace of the numbers, "One, two, three..." she whispered, counting a rhythmic mantra to anchor her swirling mind.

The soft cadence of her voice filled the room, each number a step on the path to regaining control, each breath a battle against the panic that loomed.

The numbers were her Lighthouse in the fog, guiding her back to a place of calm amidst the storm of revelations.

[END OF FLASHBACK]

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Jungkook's POV:

As I entered the room with uneasiness, the familiar scent of antiseptic filled my nostrils, a stark reminder of the clinical reality I was about to face.

The soft sound of her mumbling something under her breath echoed in the room. As she noticed my presence, she stopped her mumbling and looked at me, scanning me from head to toe.

Her gaze wasn't the admiring one like any other fan I had met in the past, but searching, demanding, full of pain and confusion.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heart. This was not the adulation I was used to; this was something raw, something real.

I approached her bedside, my footsteps barely making a sound on the pristine floor. Taking a seat beside her, my mind raced about how to start a conversation. Just then, I heard her voice, a fragile whisper, "You're Jeon Jungkook, right?" she asked me without looking at me.

I didn't know what was going on in her mind. "Y-yes," I said, my voice matching hers, barely rising above a whisper, as I feared that any wrong action of mine might trigger another panic attack.