By Zephyria 
My whole body ached as if I had been beaten the night before.
Whenever I failed to meet the target while begging, or couldn’t keep up while learning a trade, or got caught slacking off after getting a bit too big for my boots while pickpocketing and got beaten to a pulp—my body always felt like this the next day.
Since I had been behaving quietly to save my strength as my dying day approached, it had been a while since I’d felt this sensation, making it feel quite nostalgic.
Ugh, groan. I tossed and turned, making pained sounds. The sunlight filtering through my lifted eyelids was so intense that I blocked my vision with my hand, letting out a groan at the sheer weight of my arm.
“Student, are you awake?”
Someone rustling nearby approached and asked. I frowned slightly at my dizzy vision and focused; the blurred silhouette gradually became clear.
“Just stay still. I’ll call the nurse.”
“Where… am I…?”
The voice coming from my deeply raspy throat was muddy.
“Where else? The hospital. Is your mind drifting? This is bad. Is anything hurting?”
The middle-aged woman talking to me next to me made me feel even more scattered. I closed my eyes for a moment and breathed, trying to recall why I was in the hospital.
So, before I woke up here… what was the last thing I remember?
As I closed my eyes, the darkness that followed tried to pull my heavy body down. Fearing I would fall back asleep instead of thinking, I opened my eyes.
“Patient, are you awake?”
A question flew in along with the sound of a door opening. I turned my head to see a nurse in a white uniform approaching with something like a tray.
“Is anything hurting?”
“I’m a bit dizzy… and my arms and legs, just my whole body hurts.”
Did someone stomp all over me while I was asleep? I hadn’t even skimped on the money for the past few days, so why was I beaten? Did they decide the collection was insufficient, or did something just annoy them and they took it out on me? Those bastards might have just found a pretext to squeeze more out of me even though they provide nothing.
But how did I actually end up in a hospital? I couldn’t imagine those guys, who wouldn’t even give me medicine while I was dying, admitting me to a hospital.
“Patient, do you remember anything? What is your name? Do you know where you are?”
I didn’t remember anything, my name is Min Jae-hee, and some lady just told me this is a hospital. While I was parting my lips to answer, questions kept flying in relentlessly, and I missed my timing to respond.
“Why… am I here?”
Interrupting the nurse’s continuous talking, I asked the question I wanted. The nurse’s questions weren’t because she was curious about the answers, but likely just to check if my consciousness was clear. The answer to the exact question would, of course, be known by the nurse.
“Hmm, you don’t remember? You were transported to the hospital after a fall. Fortunately, there’s no major damage to your bones or organs, but your head needs a detailed examination. The attending professor will be here soon, so please lie down and let us know if you feel uncomfortable. First, I’ll take your temperature and blood pressure. Just breathe comfortably and don’t tense up.”
The arm where the blood pressure was being measured felt stiff. It felt like my veins were being blocked. Accepting the strange pressure helplessly, I let my limbs hang like a corpse.
“You might feel dizzy, so please stay in bed and avoid getting up. The hospital will contact your guardian, so don’t worry. I’ll let you know when the professor arrives.”
As the nurse left, the room fell silent. I lay on the plush bed and looked up at the ceiling.
Fall accident, transported to the hospital, contact the guardian.
That means I fell before I woke up here. A fall means dropping from a high place. Where and why did I fall?
As I rubbed my eyebrows with my finger and fished for thoughts, memories began to surface one by one in my head.
Right. I went to the photo exhibition as usual, met that guy, he found out I was dying, and then he—who was always strange but became even stranger than usual—started rambling like a complete lunatic. Then, perhaps feeling disillusioned with life, he went up to the pedestrian bridge saying he wanted to die… and I fell along with him while trying to catch him.
「Who is it? Who’s the culprit!」
「…I’m sorry.」
That guy spoke as if he knew the culprit of my parents’ accident. Yet, he wouldn’t tell me who the culprit actually was. I had desperately tried to hear what he knew, and he chose to die with that secret.
Even though it was about my own parents, why was he so desperate? What, or who, did he want to hide?
“Do you happen to know where the person who was transported to the hospital with me is? There should be someone who fell with me.”
“Well, I’m not sure. Should I go ask at the desk?”
“…By the way… who are you?”
Everything is fine, but I don’t know who this lady is. Looking at her casual clothes, she’s not a nurse, nor is she someone I know. Why is she just standing there next to me?
“Oh, I’m the caregiver, the caregiver. You’re flustered because you don’t know who I am? I should have told you sooner, but I forgot. The hospital will contact your family, so they’ll be here soon. I heard this hospital belongs to your family? The doctors keep coming in and out talking about the hospital director and whatnot. I’ve never seen doctors visit so diligently when the patient was unconscious.”
I vaguely listened to the lady’s words as she laughed, saying it was impressive.
I was puzzled that they would contact a guardian who didn’t even exist, but was this a hospital run by that guy’s family? Since I saved his son from suicide, they must be treating me as a benefactor, placing me in a single room and providing a caregiver. The caregiver seems to have mistaken that for my parents.
Well, it’s not bad. This is the least they could do. If I had ignored him, that family would have had to hold a funeral for a perfectly healthy child.
I thought I was definitely dead when I fell while grabbing him, but perhaps heaven showed some rare mercy for doing a good deed, as I woke up perfectly fine without any special injuries. My whole body aches as if I have a cold, but this is a level that will be fine after a good night’s sleep.
They said my head needs a detailed exam, but whether there’s a problem or not, it doesn’t matter if I don’t get the exam. Even if there is a problem with my head, there’s a hundred percent chance I’ll die first from the cancer in my chest.
Thinking lightly, I rolled around leisurely on the bed of the single room.
Once, when I was in too much pain, I secretly went to a local clinic to get an IV drip. The chilly air, the hard bed, the cold sheets. Wrapping myself in a blanket-like duvet while receiving the IV, I felt like I was lying in a morgue rather than a hospital.
In contrast, a single room in a large hospital is something else entirely. Even the air is warm. This is the power of single-room heating.
“This is a single room, right? Wow, there’s a TV and a sofa… it’s really great.”
It was wider, cleaner, and even had a better view than the goshiwon where I lived. There were no noises like snoring or talking from the next room through the walls, no foul odors, and no bugs. That’s probably why a single day’s room fee here is more expensive than a month’s rent at the goshiwon.
I thought I’d never be admitted to a room like this while dying, but after saving the life of a rich man’s son, I was moved straight into a magnificent single room despite not being injured.
The difference between the haves and the have-nots is revealed in parts like this.
“Why is the hospital director’s son finding this so fascinating?”
“It’s my first time staying in a single room. Ma’am, when does the food come? Since it’s a single room, I wonder if they serve some kind of special meal.”
“A single room is just expensive because you use it alone; it’s no different. If it were a VIP room, maybe, but the food here is the same. Why, are you hungry? Should I go ask if you can eat something? It would have been better if you woke up a bit earlier, but unfortunately, it was an hour before dinner time. Hold on, I’ll go ask quickly.”
No way. There’s a room better than a single room? A VIP room—the name itself exudes specialness.
Was the value of the benefactor who saved the hospital director’s son only as far as a single room? I can’t even imagine what a VIP room, which I didn’t even know existed, looks like, but I felt a bit bitter for some reason.
No, it’s okay. What’s wrong with a single room? This is a special room that costs hundreds of thousands of won a day. This is a luxury. And a room like this isn’t what’s important. What’s important is the envelope they’ll press into my hand later, saying thank you. Surely they won’t just end it with a “thank you” after having me tested for abnormalities.
In that sense, I was eagerly waiting for the guy’s guardian to arrive. It would be great to see the guy himself as well. There couldn’t be a more dramatic and touching scene than the party involved thanking me for saving his life.
If I get a generous reward, maybe I’ll use that money to travel before I die. It doesn’t even have to be abroad. A hotel on a beach with a view of the ocean would be fine.
I want to see the sun rising over the sea from a dizzyingly high floor. It would be nice to open the window and smell the saltiness of the sea breeze. Walking along the beach barefoot, enjoying the seawater and sand tickling the tops of my feet, and watching the backs of couples walking side-by-side, their shoulders stained red by the sunset, wouldn’t be bad either.
Realistically, entering a hospice would be the best option, but nevertheless, I dreamed of the sea, which I had never seen.
The sea. Even the pronunciation as it rolls off the tongue is unobstructed and free.
“Student, are you sleeping? They said you might go in for an exam, so for now, wait until the attending professor arrives. What are we going to do about you being hungry?”
Should I just ask for food since I don’t need an exam? Thinking about not being able to eat suddenly made me hungry. I don’t know what expression she saw on my face, but the lady clicked her tongue.
“You’re on an IV, so you won’t die from skipping one meal, but still, a person needs to eat.”
Whether this was consolation, a scolding, teasing, or encouragement, only she would know. Hiding my reluctant expression, I pushed myself up to sit.
“I want to go to the bathroom.”