By Zephyria 
Late at night, Hyojung returned to her hotel room and pondered. Between finishing the academic conference schedule and attending the company dinner, it had grown late. Her close colleagues had held her back, making it impossible to leave early. She had originally intended to head back early this evening.
“Maybe I’ll just leave tomorrow morning…”
She hadn’t scheduled any patients for tomorrow morning anyway. Since she had come all the way to Busan, she had planned to take a day off. However, after receiving a call from Seo In-ho early last week, she had canceled those vacation plans.
“What’s so pretty about that guy.”
Hyojung clicked her tongue and sank deep into the plush sofa. She paid an unusually high amount of attention to In-ho’s affairs.
That didn’t mean they were close. There were years when she had been completely out of touch with him. The number of days they had eaten together could be counted on one hand, and seeing his face when he visited the hospital was about the extent of it.
Nevertheless, Hyojung showed a deep interest in In-ho’s life. She always kept an ear open for rumors of him drifting from afar, and there were times she had joined drinking parties she usually avoided just to hear how he was doing.
She was simply curious if he was doing well. Hyojung hoped that In-ho wasn’t just surviving, but living ‘well.’ If possible, happily.
“Ah, let’s just go tomorrow.”
Tying her hair back tightly, Hyojung sprang up from the sofa. It was late, and she felt a sudden urge to pour some beer down her thirsty throat. She decided she’d have just one can and go straight to sleep.
She turned on some music as she took a cold can of beer out of the refrigerator. A slow-tempo old pop song echoed loudly from the speakers.
Hyojung hummed along to the song, but hesitated for a moment before opening the can. Thinking it would be best to finalize tomorrow’s schedule before taking the first sip, she took out her phone.
Since the fickle Seo In-ho might not show up tomorrow, she needed confirmation. Although it was late, dawn for In-ho was like afternoon for others, so it shouldn’t matter.
[Hospital at 3 tomorrow. You didn’t forget, right?]
After sending the brief text, she returned to the sofa. She decided that if he didn’t reply within ten minutes, she would have another can of beer. Given In-ho’s personality, there was a high probability he would suddenly cancel.
“Since I brought it up, I hope he actually comes.”
The thought of returning to Seoul was tiring, but her curiosity about In-ho’s partner was greater. Since it was the first time she had seen him take care of someone he was dating, her curiosity was piqued.
I wonder what kind of person they are.
Hyojung stretched, imagining various images in her head. For some reason, she felt like he had met someone decent this time. Though, in truth, that was just her wish.
“Oh.”
Right on cue, In-ho called. She had expected a curt, low-effort reply, so she was surprised when he actually called. Along with a sense of welcome, a strange worry surfaced.
“Hey, In-ho.”
Hyojung, who had been leaning deeply into the sofa, slowly tilted her head forward.
Over the phone, the sound of a stranger’s sobbing—not In-ho’s—came through. Sensing the gasping breaths, she set down the can of beer. She immediately stood up from the sofa and packed her things.
I, I… In-ho, Mr. In-ho is…
“I’m listening. Keep talking.”
The man’s voice, muffled by tears, was slurred. It sounded almost like a child’s voice. Focusing on the man’s fragmented explanation, Hyojung asked for his location in a calm tone. Fortunately, the answer was that he was at In-ho’s house.
“An ambulance will be there within five minutes.”
Having packed her suitcase in an instant, Hyojung threw on her coat. With the music turned off, her fingertips moved rapidly.
* * *
Haon had never been to a large general hospital before. Even when he had manifested as an Omega, he had gone to a small neighborhood OB-GYN. In the rural village where Haon lived, even that didn’t exist.
Because the hospital was large, there were many people, and despite it being the dead of night, it was as bright as day.
While In-ho was undergoing tests, Haon sat alone in the waiting chair, staring blankly around. His face was that of someone trying to determine if this was reality or a dream.
Since a dream couldn’t possibly be this long, it must be reality. As he accepted this, tears suddenly burst forth from his stinging eyes.
Burying his face in the tissues the paramedic had handed him, he wept silently. The tissues, already damp, only served to soak up Haon’s tears.
It was a terible, agonizingly long dawn.
Soon, someone supported Haon and guided him to the hospital room. Only after a stranger’s hand slid slippers onto his feet did Haon realize he was barefoot. He had been that distraught. He couldn’t even remember how he had gotten to the hospital.
The moment he saw In-ho lying alone on the wide, white bed, his eyes burned hot. Haon bit his lip and swallowed his tears. If he cried, his vision would blur, and he wouldn’t be able to see In-ho properly.
Rubbing his eyes hard, he widened them to look at In-ho closely.
In-ho looked the same as always. He lay with his eyes closed in silence, letting out steady, rhythmic breaths.
The events of a few hours ago felt like a short nightmare. However, the bandages on In-ho’s hand and the scratches remaining on his neck reminded him that this was reality.
“Mr. In-ho…”
He called him in a small voice so as not to disturb his sleep. Though he knew In-ho needed rest, he wanted him to open his eyes right now. He felt an impulse to force the closed eyelids open. He wanted to lock eyes with him, even for a moment.
Driven by his own greed, he tried to reach for In-ho’s face but then clenched his fist. He tried to hold his hand instead, but upon seeing the thick IV needle connected to the back of the hand, he gave up on that as well.
Pulling over a steel chair, Haon leaned his upper body against the head of the bed. Haon did not take his eyes off In-ho for a single second. He stayed by In-ho’s side without moving until daybreak.
In the morning, In-ho’s attending physician visited and asked several questions. They were simple questions about In-ho’s usual sleep patterns, lifestyle, and food intake. However, Haon couldn’t answer any of them clearly.
He always added ambiguous phrases like, ‘Probably so. Or maybe not.’ There was no certainty in his hoarse voice.
The doctor told Haon to get some rest and was about to leave the room. Only after Haon stopped him and asked about In-ho’s condition did the doctor reveal the test results.
The sudden seizure symptoms and the rapidly spiked body temperature were primarily caused by the excessive intake of suppressants. He said that because In-ho had tried to suppress his rut too aggressively, it had put an even greater strain on his body. He should have let it release moderately, but he hadn’t.
Other short medical terms followed. Words like gastric ulcer and malnutrition swirled confusingly inside Haon. He couldn’t believe these words all described In-ho’s condition.
They had definitely eaten well together.
Looking at the sleeping In-ho, Haon chewed over the time they had spent together. The two of them had sat across from each other at the dining table, eating the food In-ho had carefully prepared and sharing long conversations. Every single day, without fail.
Haon’s eyes, clouded with confusion, wavered.
Haon reached a point where he was confused about who he had spent those peaceful times with. He wondered if he had been mistaken, thinking they did things together when he was the only one eating, drinking, and enjoying himself.
His cluttered mind grew hot. Leaning forward, Haon rested his forehead in front of In-ho’s hand, where the thick needle was inserted. He closed his eyes tightly, steadying his ragged breath and trying to swallow the emotions surging within.
And so, he drifted off to sleep.
How much time had passed? Waking up to a cozy warmth enveloping his shoulders, Haon opened his eyes. As he weakly pushed himself up, the blanket covering his shoulders slid down.
“Oh, sorry. I didn’t know you were asleep.”
Along with a familiar voice, the clicking sound of heels approached. It was Hyojung.
Standing in front of the room’s refrigerator, she approached Haon and introduced herself. She said she was a doctor working at this hospital and an older sister-figure who knew In-ho.
“I saw you briefly during the dawn, but you don’t remember, right?”
She was the person who had put the slippers on Haon. Haon, his mouth hanging open, bowed his head a beat late. He hadn’t even known he had received help.
“Thank you…”
“What’s your name?”
Smiling softly, Hyojung asked as she draped the blanket back over Haon’s shoulders. She had a strong impression, but she radiated an atmosphere that strangely put people at ease. Haon swallowed hard and answered slowly.
“I’m Jeong Haon.”
“Can I ask how old you are?”
When he replied that he was twenty-one, she gave an admiring reaction, as if saying, ‘I thought so.’
“I asked because your skin is so good. There was a reason for that baby skin.”
She opened a juice bottle and pressed it into Haon’s hand. With his lips parched, Haon bowed his head again and drank the juice.
He couldn’t taste anything. Even though the coldness of the glass bottle reached his hand, the liquid touching his mouth felt lukewarm.
Hyojung watched closely as Haon merely moistened his lips and set the juice down.
“I put some sandwiches in the refrigerator, so eat them when you’re hungry.”
“Yes, thank you.”
Haon’s lips trembled as he repeated his thanks. He remembered that thanks to her, he had been transported to the hospital quickly last night. Since it was where In-ho’s attending physician was, the tests had proceeded much more swiftly.
Haon had done nothing. He had simply cried and cried.
“We were actually supposed to meet today. Did you know?”
With her hands in the pockets of her white coat, Hyojung naturally continued the conversation. She treated Haon, whom she had just met, with friendliness.
“Yes, he told me to get a check-up…”
“When did he tell you?”
“That… the day before yesterday.”
Hyojung nodded leisurely and began to tell Haon things he hadn’t known, one by one.
“He told me he was coming to see me last week. You didn’t know that, did you?”