Forgotten | jjk

three

Once you had stepped off the plane at the Incheon airport, the police car sent you to Gangnam, where you and Jimin stayed with his family.

In the car, your phone beeped with an incoming call.

~Seokjin oppa😄 is calling~

It was your older brother, Seokjin.

You picked up.

"[Y/N]..." He trailed off, not knowing to what to say at all.

"I guess you heard the news."

"Mhmm," Seokjin replied, voice still as soothing as ever, "I got the address from your mother-in-law, I'll see you at the funeral hall later, alright?"

"Mm, see you," You murmured into the phone, before hanging up.

You arrived at your in law's house awhile later, with Officer Yoo settling a comforting hand on your back before she left in the car.

Jimin's family obviously had been informed of his death, judging by the stoic atmosphere of the mansion when you entered.

His father was probably preparing for the funeral in the study room, you could hear his older sister, Solmin, sobbing noisily in her room. His younger sister, Kyungmin, sat on the couch, already dressed in her funeral clothes.

The moment she spotted you, she stood up, walking towards you. Her expression was thunderous and you flinched as words flowed out of her mouth, feeling smaller each time she said something.

"It's all your fault that Jimin oppa died," She snarled, "If you hadn't insisted on going to Jeju instead of going to Europe like he had said, this wouldn't have happened-"

"Noona. Can you please stop it? It's not her fault." Jimin's younger brother, Youngmin, cut in from the staircase, where he had just stepped down from changing into the black funeral suit with a hemp arm band.

"He's right, Kyungmin. I'm pretty sure your sister in law would be the most affected among all of us," Jimin's mother joined in, walking across the wooden floor of the living room to pull Kyungmin away from you.

Kyungmin ignored them, continuing, "Don't you think that you will still be able to stay in this house after this."

She glared at you, before spinning around to stomp back into her own room.

You stood rooted to the spot, feeling even more vulnerable after her words.

Where are you Jimin.... I need you...

"Come, [Y/N]," Jimin's mother said, walking to the door of your room, turning to motion for you to follow her, before disappearing behind the heavy wooden door.

You followed and closed the door silently behind you, before settling on the bed next to where she was seated.

Her once beautiful features were wrinkled from grieving over the loss of Jimin and despite the strong front she was trying to keep, you could see the sadness in her eyes, which were slightly wet from crying earlier.

"About what Kyungmin said about you staying in this house," She paused for awhile.

"It's true, I'm really sorry about that my dear."

It was to be expected. Why on earth would his father, who didn't hold an ounce of liking for you, allow you to stay in his house after all this?

"No... don't be, I should be sorry instead."
You consoled Jimin's mother, "I understand, eomoni."

"You know how Jimin's father is like... I can't object to anything he says," She sighed heavily, forehead wrinkling up in disappointment.

"He told me to pack your belongings an hour ago."

You could see her struggling to continue this conversation without hurting you any further. Without saying anything, you enveloped her in a hug, feeling her already thin and weary figure sag into yours.

"I understand everything, stay strong okay? I might cry if I see you continue being like this," You said, pulling back to see that her eyes were already wet with tears.

"Silly girl," She smiled through her tears, "I should be saying that to you instead."

"I've got your funeral hanbok hanging in your closet. Get ready, the car will be setting off in 20 minutes." Jimin's mother sighed, patting your knee before making her way out of your room briskly.

You walked over to the closet, opening it. It was empty save for the black hanbok which was hanging in the middle of the railing, since all of your clothes and belongings had already been packed into a black suitcase standing inconspicuously at the corner of the room.

You took it off it's hanger, letting your fingers run over the silky material. It was made of the same material as the colourful hanbok you wore when you got married to Jimin.

It was fresh in your mind as if it had happened just yesterday.

flashback time

It had been a rush to change into the hanbok as you slipped off the heavy white wedding gown with the help of two assistants in a spacious cubicle located in the makeup room near the wedding hall.

You had to change dresses while the guests were eating as it was customary to make a another entrance to give your thank you speeches.

You stepped out of the cubicle around a few minutes later, slightly redfaced, to meet Jimin, who was slightly redfaced too, but still as handsome as always.

The assistants left the dress behind in the cubicle and hurried to dab sweat away from your hairline and touch up your unusually heavy makeup as you fidgeted in the hanbok, trying to get comfortable in it.

You thumbed the edges of your top, admiring the silky material of the brightly coloured hanbok as the assistants finished fussing around you.

It was time to enter the hall. You played with your own fingers, starting to get nervous again about entering a hall filled with almost 300 people, even though you'd done it earlier.

Jimin sidled up next to you, hair perfectly coiffed and suit pressed till there didn't seem to be any creases in it.

"Don't be nervous," He soothed, "You won't do anything embarrassing, because you're going to be holding onto an awesome man also known as Mr Park Jimin." Jimin finished off with one of his signature winks that girls on the university campus always fell for.

"Tch," You made an unimpressed sound, but still held onto his sturdy arm anyways.

"Shall we?" He asked, grinning.

You nodded, and strode into the huge hall with Jimin's assuring presence next to you.

flashback ends

You felt emotional again at the cherished memory, before shifting your gaze onto the black hanbok ahead of you, sniffling slightly as you wiped away your tears with the back of your palm.

With gritted teeth, you slipped the hanbok on and pinned your hair up neatly, before heading out to meet the rest of the family.