Catching up to the Memories

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Flowers. Do Kyungsoo saw them each time he passed by the room in the hospital. They were wilted and their fragrance had lost all desirability. He often thought that he should be the one taking care of them or that he should bring more to replace them. He did neither of those things. It never felt right to move them. They belonged.

A short buzz alerted Kyungsoo. He reached into his pocket, still gazing at the forgotten flowers. "Annyeong" the voice on the other end was displeased. "Is that anyway to speak to your Hyung?" Minseok's annoyed voice pierced the air. "Mianhamnida" Kyungsoo turned to see Minseok stomping towards him, phone in hand and lips in a thin, distressed line. "Are you ok?" His anger already disappeared into harsh worry. Kyungsoo nodded and turned back to the bundle of wilted flowers. He mentally went through his post it notes he had read that morning. "I'm here to get treatment." Kyungsoo reiterated from one of the post its. Minseok nodded and turned towards the wilted flowers. He stepped towards them and clicked his tongue. "Don't those belong to the writer who died recently?" He leaned down in front of them and lifted the dead things from their vase. Kyungsoo furrowed his eyebrows. The mention of a writer hit him somewhere deep in his gut. "Jongin right? He used to come to the bar to see you." His felt as if someone had dropped a block on his chest. Jongin? Kyungsoo grabbed the flowers from Minseok and held them tight. "I'll...I'll throw them away!"

Kyungsoo set the flowers on his desk as soon as he had arrived at his apartment. Their lonely form reminded him of something true to him. He desperately searched through post it notes in the hopes to fill the large gaps in the situation. You are going to the hospital for treatment. You have Anterograde Amnesia. Your name is Do Kyungsoo. You read through a scrapbook every morning. You write everything to remember things. Kyungsoo read on through each post it note. The continuous flow of colorful paper was enough to make him wish that rainbows didn't exist.

Finally there was something. A small bundle of yellow post it notes, wrapped up in his Pororo shirt, emerged from a box tucked far away. The box had been tactically hidden far behind his desk. Who ever had hidden it wished it would never be found. Kyungsoo had a dark feeling that he was the one who had hidden it. He feared it was for the good of himself that it was hidden. Now he had opened a door that he couldn't close.

Post it notes spread across the floor now. Each was from the bundle of yellow post its that had been hidden away. Their colors had faded to different shades over time. Some shone bright and new while others held a dusty tint that covered the sticky strips with brown and grey. All of them were covered in the same hand writing. Black chicken scratch. Kyungsoo read through each one, memorizing words and styles that each one held on the thin paper. It felt like he was reading the lost words of a person's eulogy. He read the first one his eyes fell on. "Things that turn Kyung-" he turned red before continuing reading. Other notes were attached to the one. They created a list of things that made Kyungsoo's heart pound just thinking about them.

Kyungsoo quickly gathered the notes into organized stacks which he separated throughout the room. Chicken scratched writing dotted the floor. He gently reached for the first stack of chicken scratch. The thin paper felt like it would crumble. For some reason his heart felt the same.

His eyes scanned the stacks carefully, trying to decide which one he would dive into first. His now tear filled eyes landed on a simple green post it.

"Hi, My name is Jongin. I'm the writer who lives next door.See you tomorrow hyung. Don't forget!"

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