#46

That probably meant he liked being praised.

Tennessee thought as he wrapped his arm around Amber’s neck. This was after they had returned to the hospital room from their walk. Amber naturally locked the wheelchair and pulled his body close. The area around Amber’s neck was very hot.

As Tennessee wrapped his arm around the warm back of the neck, Amber’s hands touched his back and waist. Amber slowly lifted Tennessee up. His breath shattered against Tennessee’s ear.

Feeling Tennessee’s gaze, Amber wore a puzzled expression. Tennessee kept his lips closed. It would be fine once that damn prosopagnosia was cured. Pushing against the firm arms, Tennessee tried to break free from the embrace. Then, he swallowed a groan.

“Are you sure your body is okay?”

20 – Chapter

The difference between receiving morphine and not receiving it was immense. At times, Tennessee’s face would turn pale from the pain. He would clench his teeth so hard that his jawline became prominent, and his fists would tighten until his knuckles turned white. There was nothing Amber could do for him. He was substituting it with other painkillers, but there was a limit.

“……I need to sleep.”

Placing a hand on his forehead, Tennessee lowered himself.

While Tennessee slept, Amber opened his palm. The palm, marked with vivid nail scratches, was full of calluses and fine, hairline scars.

“Tennessee.”

Having taken a sleeping pill, Tennessee fell asleep faster than he usually did when Amber was by his side, so he did not answer Amber’s call. Even in sleep, a faint wrinkle formed between his brows, as if he were still in pain.

It was just as Amber moved his finger, tracing the nail marks with his thumb. Tennessee’s fingers suddenly snapped straight, gripping Amber’s hand with a brutal, crushing force. It was a sharp, vicious movement, like the fangs of a beast or the talons of an eagle. Startled by the sudden shock and pain, Amber jerked his body up. The pain was excruciating. Tennessee gripped his hand desperately, as if clinging to a cliff.

“Tennessee!”

At Amber’s shout, Tennessee snapped his blue eyes open.

As if by magic, the grip vanished instantly.

“Tennessee?”

Amber called out to him, shaking his aching fingers. It really felt as if a bone had broken. Tennessee bolted upright and covered his forehead with his palm. It had only been a moment, but his forehead was drenched in cold sweat.

Hiding his hurting hand behind his back, Amber leaned in. Tennessee had not yet fully regained his senses.

“Where am I?”

“The hospital.”

“Shut up. Just be quiet for a second.”

Amber couldn’t speak in the absolute silence of the hospital room. Tennessee covered his ears with both hands. He bowed his head low and gasped for air.

“Turn that off.”

“Turn what off?”

“The TV.”

Amber turned his gaze toward the TV, which had been off and black for a long time. Because of Tennessee’s hatred for noise, it was rarely turned on. Tennessee insisted that he could hear gunshots coming from somewhere.

“……Tennessee.”

Swallowing a trembling breath, Amber called his name vacantly.

Chronic insomnia, an inability to relax, nightmares, tinnitus, auditory hallucinations. Tennessee was not normal, and Amber had no choice but to admit it.

Surprisingly, when he regained consciousness a moment later, Tennessee did not remember the incident.

He persistently stared at Amber’s fingers—which had been splinted after the index and middle fingers were cracked—and questioned him. Amber could not tell him the truth. There was no playfulness in Tennessee’s tone as he asked if Amber was being bullied at college.

“I got hurt while exercising, so don’t worry.”

“What exercise?”

“Basketball. I hit the ball wrong.”

Tennessee didn’t believe it at face value, but he stopped pressing. Sitting with his back against the headboard, Tennessee looked peaceful. There was no trace of the passion from moments ago in the way he opened his book or moved his hands.

It was a brief moment, but Amber could not forget it. He probably never would for the rest of his life. It felt as if he had encountered a secret Tennessee had kept hidden beneath his feet. He felt as though he had seen a blurred shadow beyond the steadfast Tennessee.

He felt as if he might burst into tears at any moment. At the same time, an indefinable anger welled up. Toward Tennessee, toward himself, and toward everyone who had made him this way.

Why did it have to be like this? While watching Amber grow, Tennessee had not shown a single sign of his own decay. He hadn’t uttered a word about the giant monster that was eating away at him and oxidizing his soul.

Looking at the pieces of Tennessee that had been devoured by the monster, Amber exhaled softly. The pale cheeks, the eyes as red as roses—Amber dared to imagine the disillusionment, pity, and sorrow he must have felt.

“Why are you crying?”

Tennessee closed his book with a decisive movement, like a knife slamming down on a cutting board.

“……Because I’m still a child.”

Because crying is all I know how to do. What should I do? What should I do with you?

Tennessee’s hand reached for Amber’s fingers. Seeing Amber’s tears, he seemed to sincerely believe that Amber was being bullied somewhere. Though his expression was calm, he might have been drafting a hit list in his head. Amber let out a hollow laugh. To make an excuse, it was the first time he had cried since becoming an adult, though the reason wasn’t much different from when he was young.

“Tell me about Afghanistan.”

The sudden tears did not stop easily. Leaning his chin down beside Tennessee, Amber made the request. Tears streamed down his cheeks.

“What about it?”

“The first time you went.”

“It’s not a good story.”

“Still. What did you do when you were a soldier?”

“Sniper. Then I was reassigned.”

“Just tell me one thing you remember.”

Tennessee chose his words. His low voice, humming “Hmm…” in thought, sounded like a lullaby. Amber buried his nose deep into the bedsheets.

The relationship remained unchanged: to know about him, Amber had to rely unilaterally on Tennessee’s mercy. As he got to know him only as much as Tennessee permitted, Amber grew thirsty. Now that he knew about the monster, Amber groaned with a parched throat.

“Do you know what a bacha posh is?”

Tennessee’s finger touched the edge of Amber’s head as he shook it. His fingers entwined lightly, as if playing with a piece of jewelry.

“It refers to girls who dress in boys’ clothes and pretend to be boys. Because there are so many restrictions for girls there.”

Tennessee’s touch was gentle as he continued.

“I only found out she was a girl after I killed her.”

Amber paused and looked up.

“I keep wondering how many of the people I killed had facts about them that I never knew.”

It was especially true for the children. In villages burned to black, in plains where missiles lit up the night sky like fireworks, and before the mountains of Afghanistan with their white peaks.

“I don’t have any stories other than things like this.”

Tennessee had heard the phrase “You just did your job” countless times. That was what the soldiers deployed there said while chewing tobacco.

Doing one’s job. Constantly stuffing the “job” into his ears, as if reminding himself of the rules. Ironically, the time Tennessee regretted killing the most was when he was a soldier. After that, it had somehow become like a tattoo gotten while drunk.

The mark of Cain, not something to be proud of, but something he had to live with.

“Tell me the most vivid nightmare you’ve ever had.”

Amber pushed his head under Tennessee’s hand. It was a gesture like a large dog acting cute.

“Tell me the most horrific experience you’ve ever had.”

Then, lifting his head, Amber rested his chin on his hand. Tennessee had no immunity to this side of Amber.

“Tell me about the hardest moment of your life.”

I want to know everything about you.

Sometimes, Amber wanted to destroy Tennessee. He wanted to turn this noble and steadfast man into a heap of worthless rubble and then rebuild him with his own hands. No one told him what this emotion was. It was too stubborn and subversive to be called affection. Or rather, he wished Tennessee would just break him.

“Did something happen?”

Amber stubbornly shook his head.

* * *

Even after that, Tennessee’s nightmares and seizure-like behavior continued.

Amber didn’t think Tennessee had intentionally hidden this from him. Until now, Tennessee had slept deeply by his side. Even if he had wanted to hide these symptoms, he wouldn’t have been able to. Thus, Amber guessed that these abnormal behaviors might have developed recently.

Curled up, Tennessee gasped for air. His hand was tightly entwined with Amber’s. Tennessee squeezed so hard that the blood drained away and his knuckles turned white. It hurt so much that the interlaced fingers felt as if they were about to be crushed, but Amber still pressed his body against Tennessee.

“Shh… it’s okay.”

It felt like his fingers were breaking. Though he wasn’t being violently aggressive, there was a certain viciousness to Tennessee’s abnormal behavior. He was like a creature washed ashore, barely clinging to life.

Even while being called to, Tennessee absolutely refused to look at Amber. He curled his body and held his breath, as if dodging a hail of bullets. Tearing at his black hair, he waited for something—something that hadn’t even started—to end. Then, after gasping for air a few times, he would close his eyes.

“……Amber.”

“Yes, I’m here.”

The strength in Tennessee’s grip slowly faded as he exhaled. As the tension left those firm fingers, Amber slowly withdrew his hand.

When Amber’s fingers slid out and brushed the back of Tennessee’s hand, Tennessee’s shoulder flinched, but his breathing was gradually stabilizing. Amber rested his forehead against the intermittently trembling shoulder. As if asking to be understood.