By Zephyria 
Perhaps because it was a holiday evening, the streets were packed with cars. It got better once they left the city center, where cars were stuck like in a parking lot, but the volume of traffic remained unusually high even upon returning to the neighborhood. It seemed everyone had gone on outings because the holiday weather was exceptionally nice. Holding flour and chives in one hand and a pack of tissues in the other, Seo Chi-young stood at the checkout counter, repeatedly glancing outside the mart. He felt he shouldn’t have come and could have just bought them later. Anxiously waiting for the person in front of him to finish paying, Seo Chi-young looked outside again.
Across the street, just before the crosswalk, Jang Ui-geon was waiting, his turn signal on and car momentarily stopped. Since it was right in front of the turn into the alley, it would have been fine if the road were quieter, but because there was so much traffic, cars often honked as they passed by.
“Here, here is your receipt and change. Thank you, please come again.”
As soon as the cashier finished speaking, Seo Chi-young gave a quick bow, grabbed his items, and hurried his pace. As Seo Chi-young stood before the crosswalk, clutching the flour and a bunch of chives in one arm and the heavy pack of tissues in the other hand, he saw Jang Ui-geon smiling brightly from inside the car across the street. Their eyes met, and Seo Chi-young smiled back.
They had woken up late in the morning, lounged lazily at home, visited a quiet private art gallery in the afternoon, and were now on their way back. On the way, Jang Ui-geon had suddenly suggested that it would be nice to end a peaceful and leisurely holiday with some chive pancakes.
‘I’m good at making chive pancakes. I used to make them often when I was young.’
“I’ll fry them for you; you can tell me they’re delicious and ask for more as much as you want,” Jang Ui-geon had said confidently, and Seo Chi-young had nodded without a word, stopping at the neighborhood mart near his house to shop.
It’s a bit too much just for pancakes; what should I do with the remaining chives? Seo Chi-young wondered as he waited for the crosswalk signal to change. He smiled as Jang Ui-geon playfully patted his stomach and made a pouting face to show he was hungry. Then, seeing another car honk as it passed behind his car, Seo Chi-young’s heart grew anxious again.
The signal needs to change quickly, he thought, staring anxiously at the traffic light. Finally, the light turned yellow and then green.
Seo Chi-young stepped onto the road with a stride almost like a run, ───and in the next instant, a ear-splitting screech of tires sounded right beside him.
A thudding impact struck his body.
Oh… Seo Chi-young thought in that brief flash.
Not now.
Not right now.
But that thought didn’t last long. Soon, his mind went blank, and the sound of his body hitting the ground echoed unusually loud.
When he first went in for the examination, the waiting room had been full of people, but by the time he came out, the number of people had dropped by more than half, making it very quiet. It made sense, as it was already past ten at night.
“…….”
He saw Jang Ui-geon talking to a young man who said he was from the insurance company. The moment Seo Chi-young stepped into the hallway, Jang Ui-geon noticed him immediately and stood up while continuing to say something to the insurance agent. He soon strode toward him.
Mr./Ms. Chi-young.
Mr. Ui-geon, I’m sorry. You’ve been waiting a long time, haven’t you?”
“Are you okay?”
He asked the question again, one he felt he had already asked hundreds of times. Seo Chi-young looked up awkwardly at Jang Ui-geon, whose complexion had grown haggard in just a few hours, and nodded, saying, “Yes, I’m really okay.”
In truth, there was no need for an examination. That’s what Seo Chi-young thought. He had been hit by a car, but it was really just a graze. The 1-ton truck, driving at a normal speed, had slammed on the brakes right in front of him, and in the process, Seo Chi-young’s thigh was touched just enough to be pushed by the tilting chassis of the car, causing him to lose his balance and fall backward while trying to step back.
In that moment, Seo Chi-young was startled. No thoughts came to mind, and his head went white. He thought he might die.
However, exactly three seconds later, when Seo Chi-young regained his senses, he found people surrounding him and buzzing with conversation. They had stopped in their tracks and crowded around him, worrying about what to do and asking if he was okay, to the point where he felt sorry for being perfectly fine.
That guilt grew when an elderly man got out of the truck with a pale, terrified face, and it grew even more when he heard a trembling voice above him, exhaling a low, breathy, “Chi-young…!””
Jang Ui-geon’s face was terrifyingly stiff.
A pale face, devoid of color.
Though it had been quite some time since Seo Chi-young had known Jang Ui-geon, he had never seen him look like that. And he felt truly, truly sorry. To the point that his own heart sank.
‘Um, I’m o—?’
‘Don’t move recklessly.’
The moment Seo Chi-young tried to stand up, Jang Ui-geon had reacted with terrifying anger. He glared fiercely at the driver, who was flustered and didn’t know what to do, and immediately contacted the hospital; from then on, he didn’t smile once. While contacting the police, the insurance company, and following him to the hospital, Seo Chi-young was so scared he couldn’t even speak properly to Jang Ui-geon. That was how frozen his expression remained. The only thing he said was, “Are you okay?” That phrase, dozens, hundreds of times.
“Um……, I’m sorry for making you worry.”
Despite being the clear victim, Seo Chi-young felt like the perpetrator as he bowed his head to Jang Ui-geon. Although the detailed test results would take more time, the preliminary results showed no problems—since he had only been hit enough to leave a slight bruise on his leg and had fallen on his backside, he was certain he would be fine no matter how detailed the exam was—and he stole a glance at Jang Ui-geon, who, though still serious, looked much softer than when they arrived at the hospital.
Jang Ui-geon scanned Seo Chi-young carefully from head to toe and then slowly nodded.
“Then let’s go back.”
Saying that all the necessary processing for today had been completed, Jang Ui-geon gave a light nod to the insurance agent he had been talking to, grabbed Seo Chi-young’s hand, and walked half a step ahead. Following behind him and nodding to the insurance agent in turn, Seo Chi-young felt a bit awkward. Although he had softened compared to before, Jang Ui-geon still seemed like a man who was bluntly angry.
On the way to the parking lot, Seo Chi-young stammered, “Um, Mr. Ui-geon, they said there’s nothing wrong with me.” Um, I really just got hit slightly where my thigh has some fat and then fell on my butt. So I’m really okay.” But Jang Ui-geon did not answer.
The first time he spoke was after he had carefully seated Seo Chi-young in the passenger seat and sat in the driver’s seat himself. Once they were enclosed in a space with only the two of them, Jang Ui-geon, who had maintained a fierce and blunt face until now, suddenly seemed to lose all his energy and buried his face in the arm resting on the steering wheel. A long sigh escaped from beneath.
‘……Don’t do that again. Do you know how scared I was?’
“……Yes.”
It wasn’t Seo Chi-young’s fault, but he nodded obediently. Even though Jang Ui-geon must have known it wasn’t his fault, he seemed to have been incredibly shaken. As he turned his face slightly from his arm to look at Seo Chi-young, his gaze held a trace of misplaced resentment.
Chi-young. If you get hurt, you’re a really bad person. You can’t do that.”
“……..Yes.”
“Doing that in front of my eyes is a truly cruel thing. No, even if it’s not in front of me, don’t get hurt. Don’t let a single fingertip get hurt. …That damn driver, I should have killed him.”
Jang Ui-geon gritted his teeth, muttering to himself that he had been so preoccupied with Seo Chi-young that he had simply handed the driver over to the police and insurance company.
Even the fist clenched on the steering wheel was trembling. Seeing this with a quick glance, Seo Chi-young hesitated for a moment and then quietly placed a hand on his shoulder. For a moment, his shoulder flinched.
“I’m sorry. I thought I should get to you quickly, Ui-geon, so as soon as the light changed, I ran out without looking. I’ll be careful from now on… I’m really fine, so it’s okay now.”
Jang Ui-geon turned his gaze to Seo Chi-young. Then, slowly reaching out, he carefully stroked Seo Chi-young’s cheek. The hand that stroked it repeatedly was still trembling.
Feeling a deep sense of apology and tenderness, Seo Chi-young lightly pressed his lips to that hand. Then, becoming shy, he lowered his gaze. Jang Ui-geon’s trembling subsided a bit more. He moved his hand from Seo Chi-young’s cheek and pulled him into an embrace. As he held him firmly yet carefully, Jang Ui-geon’s trembling eventually stopped completely. His quietly shaking breath also calmed. The hand that began to slowly pat Seo Chi-young’s back, tap, tap, signaled that he had finally composed himself.
“Really, don’t do that again. ……I thought my heart had stopped.”
No, it actually stopped, but it started beating again because I had to help you quickly, Chi-young 씨, Seo Chi-young murmured a joke while sighing, and only then was he able to smile.
“Yes, I’ll be careful. ……. You should be careful too, Ui-geon.
“When have I ever been hurt?”
You were hurt too, Ui-geon. Right in front of me, you were hit by a truck.”
Jang Ui-geon paused at Seo Chi-young’s murmur. He pulled away from the embrace and looked at Seo Chi-young with a puzzled face. When did I? With a look exactly like that, he seemed to easily recall when he had been hit by a truck.
“Ah, right. There was an accident once in high school. I was hospitalized for a month…….. But…….. were you there too, Chi-young?”
Jang Ui-geon looked at Seo Chi-young, his eyebrows raised curiously. Seo Chi-young nodded.
“I was standing in front of the crosswalk with you. And then you were hit right in front of me, Ui-geon.
“……….Ah..”
Jang Ui-geon blinked in surprise and looked at Seo Chi-young. I see, back then. Nodding, he had a subtle expression. He looked as if it were quite strange that Seo Chi-young had been there, though he had no memory of it, in the situation he remembered. Seo Chi-young smiled quietly.
“I didn’t like you as much as I do now, but I liked you back then too, so I was very shocked.”
“I see.. I’m sorry.”
Jang Ui-geon murmured, his eyes drooping slightly with an awkward expression. He seemed sorry for everything: that he had been in an accident in front of him, that he didn’t remember it, and that he hadn’t liked him back then. To think he could look so crestfallen.
Seo Chi-young smiled. It was already in the past.
Let’s just go back, I’m hungry because I haven’t eaten anything……, aren’t you hungry too, Ui-geon?”
“Ah. ……I forgot. You’re right. I’m hungry. Very hungry. Chi-young must be very hungry too. What should we eat?”
Jang Ui-geon, who had been deep in thought, seemed to snap out of it upon hearing those words; he rubbed his stomach and quickly started the engine. Seo Chi-young thought for a moment. The first thing that came to mind was the chive pancakes Jang Ui-geon had promised to make deliciously. But both the flour and the chives had been scattered on the road, and it was too late to go back and fry pancakes at this hour.
“I think it would be better to eat out before going home, but I wonder if many places are still open at this time.”
“Hmm—places open late are usually things like hangover soup restaurants, is that okay?”
Looking at the clock, which indicated a time when most restaurants would be closed, especially on a holiday, Seo Chi-young nodded yes. He wasn’t picky about food. The chive pancakes Jang Ui-geon had promised still lingered regretfully in his mind, but it couldn’t be helped today.
It was a small happening that had occurred in high school.
The high school they attended enforced night self-study until late. Students were forbidden from leaving the premises during lunch, but during the one-hour dinner break, they were free to go out for a meal—though most students simply brought packed lunches. During that hour, the area around the school was teeming with students pouring out in crowds.
Seo Chi-young was among them that day.
He had brought a dinner lunch, but he and his friends had completely devoured it during cleaning time. He had just finished buying kimbap and jjolmyeon during the dinner break—the only time one could boldly leave the school while the sky was still bright.
“We’ve still got plenty of time. Hey, let’s play a round of games before we go back.”
“The dean usually patrols the arcades near the school.”
“The one across the main road down there should be fine. I heard the billiard halls over there are safe too. Come on, let’s go. If we play one round, the timing will be perfect.”
In those days, before PC bangs existed, friends’ opinions usually split into a few directions after dinner: the billiard hall, the arcade, or the comic book cafe.
It wasn’t just the two or three friends who hung out with Seo Chi-young; it was true for most boys. Some studied in the classroom even during dinner, some ran around the playground, some lounged in hiding spots, and some tasted a brief moment of rebellion outside the school like this.
It varied depending on the mood of the day, but that day they headed to the arcade across the main road, following the path down from the school. Because that area was clustered with entertainment facilities like arcades, comic book cafes, and billiard halls, it was common to see boys in the same school uniform lining the street during dinner time.
Games… come to think of it, he heard a new Tekken was coming out soon. But Street Fighter was better than Tekken. Chatting with his friends as they walked down to the main road, Seo Chi-young stopped at the crosswalk. The traffic light, notorious for taking forever to change, was showing red.
Man, if we’re unlucky, we’ll have to sprint back to school after the game. If you don’t want that, just lose quickly. I’d rather just rot away in self-study. Amidst the bickering friends, Seo Chi-young was chiming in with a laugh when his gaze suddenly stopped.
Jang Ui-geon was standing a few steps to the left.
‘……….’
He was standing right at the edge of the crosswalk, slightly ahead of Seo Chi-young. He was visible from a diagonal back view. Jang Ui-geon seemed to have come out to visit an arcade, comic book cafe, or billiard hall as well, as he was laughing and chatting with two or three friends.
He was a famous boy in school. Not just inside the school, but outside as well. He was good at everything, good at playing, and very popular. Consequently, there was no one in school who didn’t know Jang Ui-geon.
Since they were in adjacent classes, they often crossed paths in the hallways. Occasionally, they would even be in the same classroom for joint lessons. So, running into him on the street was nothing special, yet Seo Chi-young stared at him blankly.
‘Hey, you 300-point brat, get lost. I’m not betting with you.’
‘Why? Just give me a handicap. Let me join in.’
‘No way, no way. Ui-geon, you just be the referee. The referee.’
‘Since when do billiards have referees?’
‘Have some conscience! Do you really think we’d want to bet against you?!’
Listening to their laughing banter, it seemed they were heading to a billiard hall. Even though they were wearing gym clothes and dragging their slippers, Jang Ui-geon stood out the most among them.
Perhaps it was only in Seo Chi-young’s eyes. To Seo Chi-young, Jang Ui-geon always stood out, no matter where he was.
They had attended the same dojo as children. …It was a relationship too meager to even call a ‘relationship.’ It was a connection that remained unilaterally in Seo Chi-young’s memory. They had hardly spoken and had no reason to clash. They had no point of contact; he was simply a student in the next class at the same school.
Seo Chi-young watched him silently until he turned his gaze away upon hearing a friend ask, “So, Chi-young, which character are you going to use?” He replied vaguely, “I don’t know, let’s see,” and gave a few casual responses, but before he knew it, he was looking back in that direction.
Why did his eyes keep drifting there?
Because he was handsome? Because he was famous? Because he was envious in many ways? Because they went to the same dojo as kids?
None of those seemed to be the reason, yet he couldn’t find any other. So, Seo Chi-young stopped trying to think of a reason and simply watched whenever he caught sight of him.
It was then. The traffic light changed.
The moment it shifted from green to yellow, and yellow to red, Jang Ui-geon leaped forward almost simultaneously with the change. Since he was at the very front of the crosswalk, he was a couple of steps ahead of the others. Just as Seo Chi-young stepped onto the road to follow that broad back walking calmly away…
A terrifying sound struck.
The chilling screech of rubber tires frictioning against the asphalt. The smell of burning rubber. And then—thump!
The sound of something large crashing down.
He thought he heard people scream. And amidst all those sounds, Seo Chi-young froze, stopping his step as he tried to enter the road.
A truck had stopped in front of him, having partially encroached upon the crosswalk. And beneath it—collapsed between the front and rear wheels—was Jang Ui-geon.
Everything seemed to stop. For a moment, he couldn’t comprehend what had happened. The roadside, where boys had been chatting, was enveloped in a chilling silence, and a man climbed out of the truck in a frantic, pale state.
Jang Ui-geon had been hit by a truck. Or rather, should he say he was run over? The front wheel of the truck had thudded right over the thigh of the fallen Jang Ui-geon.
“H-hey, student! Are you okay? Are you alright?!”
The driver called out to Jang Ui-geon, his face pale blue, and only then did the boys begin to stir. His friends shouted with pale faces, “Ui-geon! Hey! Are you okay?! Wake up!”
It was then. Jang Ui-geon, who had been lying half-under the truck, seemed to mutter, “Ah… fuck… how embarrassing…” He suddenly sprang up with a slightly flushed face. Completely fine.
As if he weren’t hurt anywhere, Jang Ui-geon stood up nonchalantly. Perhaps feeling awkward that everyone’s attention was on him, he bowed his head to the driver with a red face.
“I’m sorry. I should have looked around before crossing…?”
“? Huh? Oh, ah, no, are… are you okay? Huh?”
The driver asked stutteringly, his eyes wide. The onlookers felt the same; even if it was a small 1-ton empty truck, one of the front wheels had rolled over his leg. Yet, Jang Ui-geon stood there perfectly fine and nodded, “Yes, I’m okay.”
Amidst the chatter of friends saying his thigh must have acted as a cushion, Seo Chi-young finally began to relax his frozen expression. The driver glanced at Jang Ui-geon a few times and then awkwardly walked back toward the driver’s seat.
“Well, that’s a relief then. Be more careful next time, okay? I’m in a hurry, so I have to go. …You’re really okay, right? Right?”
After asking one more time to confirm, the driver waved his hand in acknowledgment when Jang Ui-geon bowed again, then got back into the truck and drove away.
The light had already turned red and then back to green. Jang Ui-geon gave a composed smile to his friends who were muttering, “Hey, are you really okay?”
“Yeah. I was a bit surprised too, but I think I’m fine. More importantly, we’re out of time, let’s hurry up and play.”
Jang Ui-geon pointed to his watch and quickly led the way, and only then did his friends follow him with relieved faces. Seo Chi-young watched for a long time as they regained their atmosphere while crossing the street, laughing and teasing each other as they distanced themselves.
“Man, that’s the first time I’ve seen an accident happen right before my eyes.”
“Yeah, me too. Wow, that was shocking. But it’s even more shocking that he’s fine after being run over by a truck. I guess famous guys are just built different.”
“It was his thigh. Isn’t that because there’s some meat there?”
As his friends headed to the arcade, clicking their tongues in amazement, Seo Chi-young finally spoke for the first time after one of them said, “Still, it’s a relief.”
“Yeah. It really is a relief.”
His heart, which he thought had frozen, was finally thumping again. And so, that dinner break passed quietly, leaving behind a small topic of conversation among the boys.
However, the event he thought had simply passed did not end as a mere topic of conversation—exactly two hours later.
Jang Ui-geon was rushed to the hospital. The place he was taken from was the billiard hall.
According to the rumors, he had gone straight to the billiard hall, and while playing with his friends, his expression had gradually worsened. By the time four or five balls were left on the table, he had put down his cue.
“Hey… I feel kind of weird. I think I need to go to the hospital.”
No sooner had he said those words with a serious face than Jang Ui-geon collapsed on the spot. His terrified friends immediately contacted his home, and his Hyung, who rushed over, took him to the hospital.
That rumor had already spread through the school during the first period of night self-study. The friends who returned after the study session explained the situation to the teacher and then went back to their class, excitedly telling the story to their classmates. Among adolescents trapped in school and starving for gossip, it took less than two hours for the rumor to spread far and wide.
Seo Chi-young’s class, being right next door, was no exception.
“Hey, you know Jang Ui-geon from the next class? I heard he got into a car accident and is in the hospital.”
“Huh? I heard Jin-gu saw the accident earlier, but he went to the hospital? I thought he walked away fine?”
“He was carried away after that.”
The quiet atmosphere of self-study vanished, and the boys were busy chatting. Amidst the whispering, Seo Chi-young couldn’t focus on his book because his heart had begun to beat anxiously.
After self-study ended and students who were spreading rumors as if something interesting had happened in every hallway passed by, the next self-study session began, and the homeroom teacher entered the classroom.
“Everyone, quiet! Raise your hand if you went out during dinner today… and among those, anyone who saw an accident this evening.”
Hearing the teacher’s serious question, a few students raised their hands. Since it was a road crowded with students, there were three or four witnesses in this class alone, including Seo Chi-young.
“Then, among you, does anyone remember the license plate number?”
When the teacher’s question fell, no boy had his hand raised. Seo Chi-young also lowered his hand, his face clouded. In the silenced classroom, the teacher clicked his tongue, looking troubled.
“The boy who was hit injured his leg bone and had to be hospitalized, but the truck driver left without leaving contact information. You all should know this in advance; this is a hit-and-run. Tsk… really, no one remembers the plate number?”
The teacher asked again, but the classroom remained silent, with students only glancing at each other. The teacher muttered to himself, “I heard there was nothing from the other classes either; this is a problem.”
“The injured kid is the only one who suffers in this situation. Is there really no one?”
But the classroom remained silent. Seo Chi-young looked around anxiously. However, the boys who had been on the street earlier all frowned, showing no sign of raising their hands.
Just as the teacher was about to leave the classroom clicking his tongue, Seo Chi-young raised his hand with an anxious face.
“Um, teacher.”
“Hmm? Yes, Chi-young. Did you remember something?”
“Well… I don’t remember the whole number, but I think the first digit was 4… and I think there was an 8 in there…”
Seo Chi-young, who had always been uncomfortable standing before people, answered hesitantly under the gaze of his classmates. He felt embarrassed to receive bewildered looks for providing such imprecise information, but he couldn’t just stay silent. If even a tiny bit could be of help.
The teacher, who had seemed slightly hopeful, looked disappointed upon hearing that.
But then.
“Uh, excuse me, the last digit was 8. The one before that was 7… I don’t know the others, though.”
A boy sitting in the opposite row half-raised his hand and spoke tentatively. Then, from the other side, a small voice like a mutter was heard: “I think there was a 9 or a 0…”
The teacher blinked and looked around the classroom. A few boys who had been vaguely muttering were now whispering among themselves: Was it this? That’s right. I think it was this.
The teacher, who had been about to open the door and leave, turned back and returned to the podium.
“Tell me again from the start. What was it?”
The teacher looked as skeptical as the boys reciting the numbers, but the four-digit number drawn by the combined efforts of the witnesses in his class and other classes successfully achieved its purpose. And that story left a record that would be talked about for generations at that school.
The detailed examination results showed that Seo Chi-young was perfectly fine. He decided to reach an amicable settlement with the driver who had caused—or almost caused—the accident. As for Seo Chi-young, since he wasn’t hurt, it didn’t matter either way.
“It’s a huge relief that the test results are clean. Anyway, you have to be careful. It’s common for people to think they aren’t hurt much, run around recklessly, and make the accident worse. There’s one guy like that right in front of the CEO now.”
A man, who was exhibiting the eccentric behavior of stuffing gopchang and soju into his mouth at once, muttered abruptly after hearing the full story of Seo Chi-young’s accident. Jang Ui-geon’s second Hyung, who had dropped by after a long time because a dinner appointment happened to be in the neighborhood where Seo Chi-young’s shop was located, was as same as ever even after several months. He claimed he had lost nearly ten kilograms in a few months because the new business he started was much busier than expected, but he looked so unchanged that it left Seo Chi-young suspicious.
Jang Ui-geon, who had rushed over upon hearing the news that the man had visited the shop, glared with narrowed, wary eyes as if thinking, Here it starts, when the man pointed at him with his chin.
“Come to think of it, you said the CEO went to the same school as Ui-geon, right? Then you might know. This kid got hit by a truck in high school. His leg bone went pop, but since it popped so cleanly, he was apparently able to walk around fine right after the accident. Do you know where this brat went, humming a tune with that leg? A billiard hall, a billiard hall! He’s been a lost cause since then—”
“Just stick to the first verse.”
Jang Ui-geon coldly interrupted the man who was rambling. He corrected him, saying, “What do you mean pop? It just had a pretty severe crack,” but the man didn’t even pretend to listen, instead turning sharply toward Jang Ui-geon and pointing a finger openly.
“No, if you have an accident, you should go to the hospital immediately! Why wander around and ruin your popped leg even more? Even more, I heard later that you sprang up right there and pretended to be fine? Wow, what a show-off.”
“Hyung, where did you learn to talk like that at your age…? Why bring up something from so long ago? I told you to stick to the first verse. Now, that’s enough.”
Jang Ui-geon cut him off, his face scrunched. The man narrowed his eyes and glared at Jang Ui-geon, then shifted his gaze meaningfully toward Seo Chi-young. When Seo Chi-young looked at the man curiously, receiving the sudden attention, the man smiled faintly.
“He’s a total show-off because he wanted to look good, right?”
“Huh? …Haha…”
He didn’t dislike the man himself, but sometimes his reactions were very difficult to handle. Seo Chi-young just laughed awkwardly between the contrasting gazes of Jang Ui-geon and the man, then shifted the conversation by looking at Jang Ui-geon.
“But didn’t it hurt back then?”
“Ah, I don’t remember that very well. It’s been over ten years already. Hmm… I think it did hurt. I think I had a feeling in the moment that something had gone wrong.”
Jang Ui-geon frowned and looked into the air. He seemed to be searching his memories, but as is the case with most old memories, he didn’t seem to recall the details one by one.
“But when I tried to move, I was surprisingly able to move without any problem. My sense of whether it hurt or not was a bit blurred, too.”
“Still, it would have been better if you had gone to the hospital quickly,” Seo Chi-young said with a bitter smile. He had heard that because he wandered around needlessly, he had to spend a full month in the hospital for something that could have been healed in about three weeks. Jang Ui-geon also let out a small, sigh-like laugh.
“I know. I don’t know why I did that. …Seriously, why did I do that?”