By Zephyria 
That quiet voice felt familiar somehow; Seo Chi-young thought that perhaps things like this had happened several times during those two days he could barely remember.
He was thirsty, but he didn’t particularly feel like drinking anything. Although he had regained consciousness, his body felt incredibly heavy, as if being dragged down into the earth, so without even shaking his head, Seo Chi-young simply blinked and looked at Jang Ui-geon.
Jang Ui-geon set down the wet towel and carefully helped Seo Chi-young sit up. He let the unstable, trembling body—which looked as if it might collapse at any moment—lean against him, and held a water cup, which had been placed on the tray with the towel, to Seo Chi-young’s lips. Seo Chi-young drank the water slowly, sip by sip, before pulling away after three or four mouthfuls.
‘It feels like… I’m suffering through decades’ worth of illness all at once.’
Seo Chi-young murmured intermittently in a voice so severely raspy it sounded like that of an eighty-year-old man. Jang Ui-geon, who was setting down the water cup, paused for a brief moment. It was the first time Seo Chi-young had said anything since falling ill.
‘….Then just lie back and rest comfortably for now. And please, don’t be sick anymore. …, ….I’m sorry. For making you hurt.’
Seo Chi-young shifted his gaze to look at Jang Ui-geon, whose voice trailed off loneliness. A flicker of distress momentarily touched the corners of his eyes.
‘No, it’s okay. I think… my body was just a bit exhausted. ….It’s, it’s not because of you, Ui-geon-ssi.’
As Seo Chi-young spoke haltingly, Jang Ui-geon didn’t answer but quietly brushed back Seo Chi-young’s damp hair. Even though Seo Chi-young said that, he seemed to believe it was his own fault. It’s okay, really, I can endure any amount of pain, so I wish he wouldn’t make such a bitter face, Seo Chi-young thought, slightly bowing his head.
‘Would you be able to eat a bit of porridge?’
Jang Ui-geon asked softly. With his head still lowered, Seo Chi-young looked up at him with only his eyes. Raising an eyebrow slightly, Jang Ui-geon asked, ‘Is there anything else you need?’
‘No.., it’s just, being nursed like this feels a bit strange.. , I usually just lie down alone for a day or two and then get up, …..’
It truly was a strange feeling. His mother had looked after him just the other day, but Seo Chi-young, who had long been accustomed to suffering alone before shaking off the illness and rising, felt something strange—a mix of shyness and a certain poignant tenderness.
Jang Ui-geon fell silent. For a moment, he wore an expression that looked even more pained than Seo Chi-young’s. After a long silence, he murmured, ‘Rest comfortably. I’ll be right here,’ and laid Seo Chi-young back down. As soon as his head touched the pillow, the brief moment of consciousness vanished, and Seo Chi-young fell back beneath the surface of sleep.
After that, although the time spent sleeping remained long, his memories became considerably clearer. Even the presence or sounds he heard in his sleep reached his ears vividly, even if they didn’t wake him.
During the day, he could vaguely sense a bustling presence from afar. The sounds of numerous people coming and going from the guest house reached the quiet inner house, where only the singing of birds could be heard. While listening to those unfamiliar sounds, he would absentmindedly think, Ah, right, this isn’t my house, and over time, those strange sounds became familiar.
Jang Ui-geon seemed to be at the guest house during particularly busy hours, but even then, he checked in on the inner house frequently. There was no sign of anyone else coming in his stead. No one else was allowed into the inner house; only Jang Ui-geon entered and exited.
Occasionally, when the door opened quietly, he could feel a single shaft of sunlight piercing through the gap. Jang Ui-geon’s gaze entered along with it.
Seeing that Seo Chi-young was asleep, Jang Ui-geon would enter silently and sit quietly by his bedside. He would gaze at Seo Chi-young for a long time before stroking his face with a cautious hand. And, even more carefully than that touch, when he kissed his lips or cheek, a trembling breath would brush against him.
While feeling those sensations as if half of his consciousness were anchored in reality, Seo Chi-young could not pull the other half of his sleeping mind back to the surface. However, the sensation of the soft touch grazing his cheek or lips was so tender and warm that it felt good even in his sleep.
“CEO,” he heard an employee calling from a distance. They seemed to be looking for Jang Ui-geon.
Jang Ui-geon seemed to turn his head toward the door for a moment, then kissed Seo Chi-young’s cheek once more before pulling his lips away. However, as if reluctant to remove the hand stroking his hair, he hesitated for a while, only letting go after the call of “CEO” sounded once more.
‘…. Chi-young-ssi.’
He heard his name called softly. This time too, he wanted to answer, but his half-asleep consciousness and body would not obey his will.
Chi-young-ssi. That soft voice calling him so carefully felt like a confession in itself. Chi-young-ssi, Chi-young-ssi. It was as if everything he wanted to say was contained within that name.
After stroking Seo Chi-young’s cheek one last time, Jang Ui-geon stood up and left. The door closed quietly, and the sunlight that had been streaming into the room vanished.
In the bright darkness, separated from the dazzling sunlight by a single sliding paper door, Seo Chi-young suddenly felt as if he might burst into tears, though he wasn’t sad. He dwelled on that name called so poignantly: Chi-young-ssi.
At night, Jang Ui-geon was always by Seo Chi-young’s side.
Occasionally, when he opened his eyes, he would see him sitting beside him in the dim room, lit only by a distant lamp, gazing down at him. Then, noticing his eyes were open, he would ask quietly, ‘Would you like some water? Aren’t you hungry?’
‘……, aren’t you sleeping?’
When Seo Chi-young asked in a hoarse voice, Jang Ui-geon would give a small smile and answer, ‘In a little while,’ and simply continue to look down at him.
While quietly stroking Seo Chi-young’s hair, Jang Ui-geon suddenly stopped his hand and said, ‘You’ve sweated a lot. Just a moment,’ before standing up and returning shortly with a dry towel and a set of loose clothes.
With a familiar dexterity, he stripped the damp clothes from the docile, quietly sitting Seo Chi-young, wiped his body, and then dressed him in fresh clothes.
When Seo Chi-young flinched as his sweat-soaked body hit the cool air, Jang Ui-geon quickly wrapped a blanket around him. Despite the awkwardness, his hands were skilled at changing the clothes within the blanket. Seo Chi-young didn’t find the touch entirely unfamiliar, thinking that similar things must have happened several times while he was unconscious and bedridden.
Even after the clothes were changed, Seo Chi-young didn’t need to help him until he was laid back down. Though his arms were still heavy, before Seo Chi-young could even try to lift them, Jang Ui-geon guided his arms through the sleeves and fastened the buttons one by one. After wrapping a fresh blanket around Seo Chi-young’s body and neatly replacing the bedsheet and pillowcase, he laid Seo Chi-young back on the bed.
Seo Chi-young watched each of these actions with a hazy mind, still feverish, feeling a very strange sensation.
Only after covering him up to his shoulders did Jang Ui-geon pat Seo Chi-young’s chest as if he were finished. When Seo Chi-young gazed up at him, Jang Ui-geon looked back as if asking why. Seo Chi-young shook his head and murmured somewhat shyly.
‘You’re very good at this.’
‘Am I? I tend to get the hang of things quickly.’
As he spoke and smiled calmly, Jang Ui-geon’s face was the same as the one Seo Chi-young remembered. Feeling a strange sense of warmth in his heart, Seo Chi-young smiled back.
Closing his clouded eyes again, Seo Chi-young murmured, ‘I’m sorry.’ He felt ashamed to have been bedridden in someone else’s home for several days. He decided he should return as soon as he was able to move. He couldn’t leave his home and the shop vacant indefinitely.
However, his body seemed to need a bit more recovery; as he closed his eyes, his consciousness began to blur again. Amidst the silent gaze descending upon him, a quiet voice seemed to mingle in.
‘I like being able to take care of you, Chi-young-ssi. Because you’re entrusting everything to me.’
I’d rather you just stay like this, without going anywhere, along with the faintly added words, a quiet hand lingered carefully over Seo Chi-young’s face before disappearing.
…..Again. He felt as if he might burst into tears despite not being sad. Seo Chi-young’s eyelids trembled faintly. Whether he saw that trembling or not, the hesitating hand brushed over his eyelids very softly, as if touching glass that would easily shatter.
Sinking into a nodding slumber, he felt as though he might have cried his heart out in his dreams.
It happened at some point.
Blinking his eyes open, Seo Chi-young found himself still lying in bed, yet for some reason, his body felt light.
“………”
He slowly lifted his arm. It was still languid and heavy, but the aching pain that had felt like tightening muscles was gone. There was no particular difficulty in moving.
Seo Chi-young slowly sat up. Though it had only been a few days, it felt like it had been a very long time since he had sat up by his own strength. Thinking back, it seemed he had been constantly supported by Jang Ui-geon.
Even if he had tried, Seo Chi-young could have probably gotten up on his own, yet Jang Ui-geon had always been by his side, helping him move as if it were only natural for him to support Seo Chi-young. Or perhaps, as if he felt slighted if Seo Chi-young did something by himself.
“……”
Seo Chi-young was alone in the room.
Sunlight was hitting the finely pasted paper of the sliding door. In the bright shade created by that single sheet of paper, Seo Chi-young blinked blankly for a while.
From far beyond the wall, the bustling presence of the guest house could be faintly heard. It seemed to be a busy time of day with guests coming and going.
Looking slowly around at the clean, fluffy blanket, the water bowl placed a short distance from his head, and the neatly folded dry and wet towels, Seo Chi-young finally stood up. Though he felt languid due to a lack of strength, his body didn’t feel heavy to move. He felt a refreshing yet drowsy sensation, like someone who had shaken off a severe illness and risen lightly.
His slightly dizzy vision soon returned to normal. With legs that felt weak but not overly unstable, he stepped out of the room.
As he opened the door, dazzling sunlight poured in. His eyes, which had been acclimated to the bright shade for days, snapped shut momentarily from the sting.
Seo Chi-young stood blankly on the wooden porch for a moment, then felt his way down to sit with his eyes closed. The porch, warmed by the sun, gave a brief sensation of coolness when he sat on it, then gradually became warm again.
At the edge of the porch, right beneath the pouring sunlight, Seo Chi-young sat with his knees hugged to his chest and eyes closed. A bright darkness swirled beneath his closed eyelids.
The weather was wonderful. The season had already passed late autumn and entered winter; the air was chilly, but the sun beating down directly from above scattered the cold air with its sting. The occasional dry breeze carried the refreshing scent of winter.
It was a dazzling early winter afternoon.
The shadow of the roof shifted, leaving Seo Chi-young’s entire body exposed to the sun. Curling up with his knees hugged, he felt as if he were wrapped in light, and it felt good. The sensation of being simultaneously chilled and hot touched his skin just right.
Everything was bright.
A light so dazzling that he couldn’t open his eyes illuminated everything.
Twinkling, the light sparkled even inside his eyelids.
A quiet silence. The occasional sound of birds. A pleasantly cold wind. Light filling everything.
Seo Chi-young rested his chin on his hugged knees.
Everything was so dazzling. A world where everything was complete in itself, filled with light.
He felt as if everything would be a dream if he opened his eyes.
He felt as if, upon opening his eyes, all illusions and lies would flee, and only the truth would remain.
Among all the things that had enveloped his hazy self during those days he had lost consciousness in that dark room, only the truth.
“……”
Seo Chi-young opened his eyes. The things surrounding him were reflected in eyes acclimated to the light. The familiar wooden porch, the stepping stone beneath it, the tiered stone steps, and the trees of the inner courtyard that had begun to welcome winter by shedding their green leaves—and a few steps away, there was Jang Ui-geon.
Having entered the door of the inner house and stopped there, he had been watching Seo Chi-young for some time.
“……”
“……”
Jang Ui-geon, who had been looking at Seo Chi-young with narrowed eyes as if dazzled, finally moved. Approaching slowly and quietly, as if nearing a small, timid animal, he climbed the stone steps and stood before Seo Chi-young.
“You’re awake.”
“……Yes, my body feels light now.”
“That’s good.”
“That’s good,” Jang Ui-geon said with a slight, faint smile. Turning his face, which momentarily flickered with a hint of regret, he sat beside Seo Chi-young, about half a step away. Seo Chi-young gazed blankly at his profile as he looked down at the inner courtyard.
Twinkling, the tips of his hair sparkled in the sunlight. It felt like some time long ago.
“I don’t want to leave you under the sun.”
Jang Ui-geon murmured calmly. Seo Chi-young, who had been staring at him as if entranced, blinked in confusion. Having remained silent while looking only at the courtyard without even glancing at Seo Chi-young, he suddenly whispered lowly, as if to himself.
“You’re so sparkling, I feel like someone might take you away the moment I take my eyes off you.”
Seo Chi-young was momentarily speechless and stared at him. Twinkling… the one who is sparkling is him.
Jang Ui-geon slowly turned to look at Seo Chi-young, who was blinking in bewilderment. Their eyes met.
After hesitating for a moment, Jang Ui-geon quietly reached out. Seeing the large hand approaching his cheek, Seo Chi-young instinctively shrugged his shoulders.
For a moment, Jang Ui-geon’s expression clouded, and Seo Chi-young panicked internally, thinking, Oh, it’s not that. He hadn’t done it on purpose; his body had simply recoiled.
Slowly withdrawing his hand that had lost its destination, Jang Ui-geon gazed at Seo Chi-young, whose eyes were darting around in embarrassment, and then spoke.
“Chi-young-ssi.”
The voice calling Seo Chi-young quietly was tinged with a faint anxiety and tension, and Seo Chi-young looked at him curiously. When had he ever heard his voice sound so calm yet laced with insecurity?
“May I kiss you?”
The moment that casual, ordinary question reached him, Seo Chi-young’s eyes widened. He stared at him blankly for a few seconds before belatedly dropping his gaze in embarrassment.
“Uh.., ……..”
Words did not come easily from his bewildered, gaping mouth. He could tell his face was flushing under the stinging sunlight. Feeling shy about that, Seo Chi-young bowed his head even further.
He felt a strangely unfamiliar sensation.
Thinking about it, he had tasted those lips countless times. There was no part of Seo Chi-young’s body that Jang Ui-geon’s lips had not touched. It felt remarkably new that he was asking for permission now.
But then, Seo Chi-young suddenly realized.
For the first time, Jang Ui-geon was seeking Seo Chi-young’s permission. Polite yet cautious, hiding a nervous anxiety within; though Seo Chi-young had entrusted his body to those lips hundreds, thousands of times, he had never once explicitly given his permission.
Therefore, this was the first time.
Whether it would be okay, or not.
It was the first time, and also the answer to everything.
“…..”
Seo Chi-young hesitantly lifted his troubled gaze to look at him. He was waiting for Seo Chi-young’s answer with a quiet, patient face.
Now that his mind had finally cleared, the words and actions Jang Ui-geon had shown recently came back to him one by one. And they revealed the meaning of what they pointed toward.
“….., ………”
He felt a strange sensation. It felt as if something that couldn’t possibly happen was unfolding before his eyes.
Yet, amidst the absolute stillness, beneath the light that shone so dazzlingly it stung, Jang Ui-geon sat there, and in his expression, there was only anxiety and nervousness—no other lies were reflected.
“……, is it not allowed?”
Perhaps unable to wait until the end, Jang Ui-geon asked once more. His voice was stiff.
Seo Chi-young dropped his gaze from him. He was clearly a person he had seen all along, yet it felt as if he were seeing him for the first time. The intensity of the gaze suddenly made him shy, and his face flushed.
Seo Chi-young shook his head.
For a moment, Jang Ui-geon seemed to hesitate. When Seo Chi-young flicked his eyes upward, he saw Jang Ui-geon looking at him with a slightly bewildered expression. It seemed he couldn’t tell if the shake of the head was a rejection or the opposite. Come to think of it, there was room for misunderstanding.
But that was only for a very, very brief moment; Jang Ui-geon soon reached out. This time, his hand approached with a bit more urgency, sliding up Seo Chi-young’s neck to pull his head toward him. It was as if he intended to ignore the truth and cling to a convenient interpretation, regardless of which way Seo Chi-young’s answer went—even if it was in a direction he didn’t desire.
But that wasn’t it. Even if the end result was the same, that wasn’t the case.
Before he was pulled in by Jang Ui-geon’s hand, Seo Chi-young opened his mouth to speak. The voice that escaped, sounding slightly rushed, made Jang Ui-geon’s hand falter.
“I… have never… rejected you, Ui-geon.”
Though he spoke hesitantly, barely managing to get the words out, his voice was clear. Jang Ui-geon stared at Seo Chi-young without the slightest movement. He gazed intently, as if gauging whether Seo Chi-young’s answer was perhaps a joke, before slowly beginning to pull him closer again.
“Are you okay?”
Jang Ui-geon asked softly when he had moved so close that there wasn’t even a palm’s width between them. However, that faintly trembling voice did not wait for an answer this time as he pulled Seo Chi-young in.
“…….”
It was a kiss as soft as one given to a young child. When their lips, which had touched briefly as if grazing, met again, Seo Chi-young suddenly felt those lips trembling. Or perhaps it was his own lips that were trembling.
Unlike the lips that remained softly pressed together, the arms embracing Seo Chi-young were gripped with fierce strength. Within those arms that held him firmly as if they would never let go, Seo Chi-young, who had been stiff with tension, eventually and very slowly let the strength leave his body.
The warm embrace, so tight it felt suffocating, was nonetheless incredibly comfortable. Yes, as if he had belonged there from the very beginning. As if that embrace had been a place prepared for Seo Chi-young from the start, it was warm and comforting.
“…….”
Seo Chi-young closed his eyes. The glittering light was too piercing to keep them open. Just before closing them, he saw Jang Ui-geon close his eyes as well.
Remaining locked in a firm embrace with their lips pressed together, they did not move. They stayed frozen amidst the stinging rays of light covering their eyelids.
In this quiet and secluded place, only the sound of heartbeats was loud. Worrying for a moment about what would happen if the sound were heard, Seo Chi-young suddenly had a vague thought that this pounding, familiar, and well-known heartbeat might not be his own.
Because Jang Ui-geon’s lips, softly overlapped and whispering something in a voice inaudible to the ear, were trembling.