last glance

POV: Jungkook (Age 23)

Timeline: His Chapter 1 → Last Meeting with Taehyung

Location: Busan Station

Season: Spring

---

There was something cruel about time.

Not in the way clocks ticked. Not in the way years passed or skin aged or memories blurred.

But in the way it made goodbyes look like hellos.

In the way it forced him to meet Taehyung again - looking younger, softer, with no memory of the way he'd once loved Jungkook like he was the only real thing in the world.

The boy on the bench had no idea.

Not a clue that Jungkook had already kissed him in the rain.

Held him during a breakdown.

Watched him fall asleep with a smile and wake up forgetting his name.

Now he was here.

Sketching.

Alive in a way Jungkook hadn't seen in a long time.

And Jungkook couldn't breathe.

---

He hadn't meant to be at the station that morning. He was leaving Busan - not for anywhere in particular, just away from where time had become too heavy.

But the train was delayed. Ten minutes. Enough to destroy him.

He saw the boy from across the platform and froze.

There he was. Taehyung.

Looking right at him, but not knowing him.

Sketching like always. Crossed legs. Concentrated frown. That stupid oversized coat. He looked exactly like the first time Jungkook had fallen in love - except this was the last time.

Because Taehyung didn't remember.

But Jungkook did.

He remembered everything.

---

For a while, he didn't move. Just watched from the shadows of the other side.

Maybe Taehyung would notice. Maybe something inside him - some ancient echo of their past - would make him feel something.

And then it happened.

Taehyung looked up.

Right into Jungkook's eyes.

And for one fragile second, neither of them blinked.

The platform disappeared. The noise disappeared. The entire world collapsed into that one stare.

Taehyung tilted his head, confused.

And Jungkook? He nearly cried.

---

Because how do you smile at someone who's forgotten you?

How do you greet someone you've already said goodbye to?

He swallowed the pain, clenched his jaw, and did the only thing he could.

He nodded.

A goodbye. A thank you. A "please fall in love with me again, even if you don't know it."

Then he turned around.

And walked away.

---

Down the stairs. Through the tunnel. Out the gate. Into the city.

Every step felt like ripping pages from a book he hadn't finished reading.

But that's how it always went.

Jungkook walked backward through love - remembering things that hadn't happened yet.

Each encounter was quieter. Each version of Taehyung knew him a little less. Forgot him a little faster.

He had watched their love unravel, one thread at a time, from ending to beginning.

And now there was nothing left to unravel.

This... this was the end.

---

He kept walking.

Past a girl handing out flyers.

Past an old man selling roasted chestnuts.

He reached for the photograph in his jacket pocket - the one he'd folded a thousand times, the edges torn.

It was a picture of Taehyung.

Drawn, not taken. A sketch Jungkook had copied from memory.

The real sketch was long gone now - Taehyung had never kept it, because in his timeline, Jungkook hadn't drawn it yet.

But Jungkook remembered it.

Just like he remembered the rooftop kiss. The museum painting. The confession in the rain. The mismatched birthdays. The way Taehyung had whispered "I love you" like it was the only thing keeping him alive.

Jungkook remembered all of it.

And now?

Now Taehyung didn't even know his name.

---

He didn't go to the train.

Instead, he walked into a bookstore - small, warm, dimly lit, the kind with dust in the corners and clocks that ticked a little too slowly.

He ran his fingers over the spines of poetry collections. He didn't read any of them.

He stood there for a long time.

Then he turned to leave...

...and saw Taehyung walk in.

---

He stopped breathing.

Taehyung didn't see him at first - too busy wiping raindrops off his coat. He moved toward the sketchpads near the back.

Jungkook watched from between shelves.

This Taehyung had never kissed him yet. Never held his face with shaking hands. Never cried into his neck and whispered, "Don't go where I can't find you."

This version didn't love him yet.

But he would.

He always did.

---

Taehyung wandered between aisles, fingers trailing the edges of books.

Jungkook didn't move.

He watched him pick up a thin paperback - something about memories and the persistence of longing. His thumb rubbed the paper gently. Eyes distant.

And then, as if pulled by instinct - he looked up.

Their eyes met again.

Just like at the station.

Except this time, Jungkook smiled.

Small. Quiet.

The kind of smile you give someone when you're letting go without telling them.

He saw Taehyung freeze.

Just for a second.

And that second was everything.

Then Jungkook turned around.

And walked away for the last time.

---

That night, he didn't sleep.

He sat on the rooftop of a rundown hostel, knees pulled to his chest, hoodie up, wind cold.

And he opened the journal.

The one he'd been keeping for Taehyung - all the things he remembered, all the things he knew Tae would forget.

But there was nothing left to write.

Only one page remained.

One sentence.

He hesitated, then scribbled:

"This time... I hope you forget me first."

---

He tore the page out.

Folded it.

Tucked it between the bricks of the rooftop.

A secret.

A final gift.

Maybe one day Taehyung would find it.

Maybe he wouldn't.

Maybe it didn't matter.

Because this wasn't a story that needed to be rewritten.

It was one that needed to stay broken - so that someone, somewhere, would feel it.

Even if they didn't understand why.

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