By Zephyria 
After finishing the morning meeting, Do-kwon loosened his tie. His crumpled face was full of irritation. Three days had passed since his physical altercation with Seong-heon, but the headache wouldn’t subside.
As soon as he entered the executive office, Do-kwon rummaged through his drawer and found some painkillers. Unable to endure the headache any longer, he had stopped by the hospital yesterday to see Eun-soo and picked them up. In his entire life, he had never put any medicine in his mouth other than rut suppressants. Thanks to damn Seong-heon, he was experiencing all sorts of things.
However, even this medicine had no effect. Do-kwon rinsed his mouth with water, grinding his teeth. Finally unable to hold back, he picked up his phone. He opened his address book and scrolled down the screen with his thumb until he found a specific contact. Without hesitation, Do-kwon pressed the call button and brought the phone to his ear, swallowing more water.
-Yeah, Seo Do-kwon. What’s up?
The ringing stopped, and a high-pitched voice answered.
“Are you still in Korea?”
Do-kwon fired off the question immediately without any greeting.
-Yeah. Still here. I go back in two days.
“Do you have medicine?”
-……What kind of medicine? Rut suppressants? Are you in rut again? Already?
“No. Painkillers.”
-Hmm, there’s no reason you’d specifically look for ordinary painkillers from me. Drugs?
“Anything.”
Do-kwon replied dismissively. The person on the phone was a friend he had met while studying abroad. She was the eldest daughter of one of Korea’s top pharmaceutical companies, but since her hobbies and interests were all illegal in Korea, she spent most of her time overseas.
Occasionally, she would return to the country for family or business matters, and it was through her that he would receive things unavailable in Korea, such as rut suppressants for Dominant Alphas.
One day, when he had happened to run into Eun-soo at a restaurant, the woman with him had been this friend. His rut was approaching, Eun-soo wasn’t around, and he didn’t want to sleep with some other Omega, so he had contacted her while she was in the country to get the medicine.
Though, as it happened, Eun-soo had completely misunderstood the situation.
-Want to meet up?
“I’m busy. I’ll send my secretary.”
-Ah, come on! Let’s see each other before I leave! I might not come back for a few years after this!
“I said I’m busy. Just text me the address. I’ll send the money, so don’t worry about it.”
-What the Fuck! You’re actually talking about money to me right now…….
At the sound of her screeching, Do-kwon abruptly hung up. He would certainly get an earful for it later, but with the agony feeling as if his skull were being crushed, he was in no state to do anything.
As Do-kwon let out a deep sigh and flopped into his chair, Secretary Jeong, who had been watching him for a while, spoke tentatively in a worried voice.
“Director. How about heading home early today?”
“……Forget it. I have a lot of work.”
“Nothing is urgent right now. It’s a schedule that can be adjusted as much as needed.”
At Secretary Jeong’s earnest persuasion, Do-kwon rubbed his eyelids vigorously with his palms. Then, he shook his head. Even if he left the office, it wasn’t as if this headache would disappear. He just wanted to get some fresh air for a moment.
Just as he was thinking that, his left hand vibrated. It was a message, and Do-kwon naturally assumed the sender was his friend. Just as he lit up the screen, thinking she had sent a message packed with curses—
Secretary Jeong cleared his throat. It was a sign that he had something to say. Do-kwon took his eyes off the phone and looked at Secretary Jeong. Then, Secretary Jeong stepped closer. He reached into his inner pocket and pulled something out.
A phone was inside a small ziplock bag. Secretary Jeong carefully placed it in front of Do-kwon. Do-kwon’s eyelashes fluttered violently.
“It is Team Leader Yoo’s phone. The screen has been fixed, and the lock has been removed.”
“…….”
Do-kwon nodded slowly. He set his own phone down on the desk and picked up Eun-soo’s phone, ziplock bag and all.
There probably wouldn’t be anything particular to see. Eun-soo wasn’t an industrial spy, and there was no way he had been doing anything shady behind the scenes. Moreover, since he had no family and no notable friends, the message window would likely be empty. If there was anything, it would just be a few trivial sentences exchanged with Seong-heon and some work-related emails.
And yet, Do-kwon couldn’t resist the curiosity that had fallen into his hands. That was why he had given the shameless order for Secretary Jeong to have the phone’s lock removed.
Do-kwon pressed the power button. With a flash, Bom’s shoes appeared. Thanks to the clean screen, the white shoes looked spotless without a single stain.
As Do-kwon watched it for a moment and was about to swipe the screen, his own phone vibrated again. Do-kwon glanced at his phone. He guessed his friend must be extremely annoyed. However, the sender wasn’t her.
[Hello, Mr. Seo Do-kwon.
This is the HW Jewelry Cheongdam branch.
Has your contact information changed? You haven’t replied to our messages.
If you do not visit within this week, we will send the ring back to Paris. As mentioned before, it is a very high-value item, so it is difficult for us to keep it in the store.
-HW Jewelry, Cheongdam branch]
[Please, please make sure to visit today.
-HW Jewelry, Cheongdam branch]
Do-kwon read the messages twice in a row. A ring. A ring. The ring that the version of himself before the memory loss had intended to give to Eun-soo.
Until now, he had regarded it as the act of a fool who had been duped by Eun-soo, but today, for some reason, he felt moved. He wondered what that high-value ring looked like. He was curious about what kind of ring the past version of himself—who had loved Eun-soo enough to make Myeong-hui click his tongue—had ordered.
Well…… with his throbbing head, he also wanted to get some fresh air. It happened to be lunchtime, so it didn’t matter if he stepped out for a bit. Do-kwon’s Adam’s apple moved as he looked at the message.
“Who is it?”
Secretary Jeong asked, noticing Do-kwon’s unusual reaction. In response, Do-kwon stood up, clutching both his phone and Eun-soo’s phone together.
“Drive me.”
It would be better if he did it himself, but the headache was severe. If he were to suddenly collapse, as he had right after waking from his coma, it would cause a major accident.
“Ah, yes. Where are we going? Team Leader Yoo’s hospital?”
Secretary Jeong, who checked for his car keys in his trouser pocket, followed behind Do-kwon. Do-kwon shook his head.
“No. Cheongdam-dong.”
“Cheongdam-dong? Why there…….”
“To pick up a ring.”
“A ring?”
Secretary Jeong’s brow furrowed slightly at the random answer. Then, as if remembering something, he arched an eyebrow.
“Ah, ahh. The one you ordered before the accident?”
At those words, Do-kwon’s footsteps came to a dead stop. He turned his head to look at Secretary Jeong.
“Do you know what ring it is?”
“Uh…… I don’t know the design, but I know that you ordered it while preparing a proposal for Team Leader Yoo.”
“……A proposal?”
“Yes. You…… wanted to marry him.”
“I did?”
At Do-kwon’s repeated confirmation, Secretary Jeong nodded. Do-kwon bit the inside of his cheek hard. He had had a suspicion when he heard it was a ring, but to think he had actually intended to propose.
Then again, considering his age, the fact that Eun-soo wasn’t young either, and that there was a child in his womb, it wasn’t strange to get married.
It was just too unexpected. He was flustered because he could feel anew just how terribly he had been fallen for Eun-soo.
Do-kwon swallowed hard and stroked his neck.
‘Find it and beg Eun-soo. Tell him you’re sorry, that you were wrong. If Eun-soo doesn’t accept it, give him your own neck.’
Suddenly, the words Myeong-hui had said came to mind.
On the way to Cheongdam-dong, Do-kwon pressed around on Eun-soo’s phone. As expected, there was nothing particular to see in the messages or emails. The message window with Seong-heon was the most active, but even that consisted only of conventional exchanges.
Seong-heon had sent various clingy messages, and Eun-soo had replied kindly, but there was no real substance to them. Things like, ‘Really?’, ‘That’s great’, ‘Thank you, Executive Director’. As Do-kwon scrolled through the messages with a cold face, his eyes suddenly met the photo gallery icon.
“…….”
Do-kwon’s Adam’s apple moved up and down sharply. He felt as if someone were pulling his heart downward, and in that moment, the headache stopped briefly. It was as if it were urging Do-kwon to hurry up and press the gallery.
After hesitating for a moment, Do-kwon’s thumb pressed the photo gallery. Then, hundreds of photos appeared. Most of the recent photos were related to Bom. Various medicine bottles taken for record-keeping, ultrasound photos, and pregnancy or parenting-related quotes and materials captured from the internet. Occasionally, work-related photos were visible.
Do-kwon scrolled down through the photos. It wasn’t that there was a specific photo he was looking for, but his finger naturally headed downward, toward the past. How many photos had he let slip by? Do-kwon’s rapidly moving finger came to a sudden halt. It was at a photo of two people with familiar faces but unfamiliar expressions.
“…….”
As if preparing himself for something, Do-kwon took a deep breath with a stiff expression. Then, he pressed the photo to fill the screen. His thumb moved slowly from left to right.
Images of himself and Eun-soo were captured in numerous photos. Since they had dated for a long period of two years, he had expected there to be many days spent together, but he didn’t know they would be this diverse.
Photos where their two faces were pushed in so close that the background was unrecognizable, photos taken with wine glasses in a restaurant with a great atmosphere, photos where both had messy hair and were grinning, a photo where Eun-soo, with a mischievous expression, was nibbling on his ear, photos taken sitting side-by-side in first class on a plane, photos taken with the Eiffel Tower in the background, a photo where Eun-soo had rested his face on Do-kwon’s palm like a puppy, photos of them riding horses together, photos with their cheeks pressed together against the backdrop of a breaking dawn over the sea, and photos that were so blurry that only the vague shapes of them laughing were visible, leaving him wondering what on earth they had been doing.
The seasons, backgrounds, and landscapes were very diverse. That many memories had gathered, and a long stretch of time was clumped together.
“Ugh…….”
Do-kwon let out a suppressed groan. A headache that felt like his head was splitting suddenly flared up. The pain, which had been quiet while he looked at the photos, became twice as fierce as before.
Despite that, Do-kwon couldn’t stop his finger from flipping through the photos. He flipped and flipped again. He was determined to see the end somehow. However, the photos seemed endless. There were far more than hundreds, so he couldn’t just look through them in a short time.
In the end, the car stopped before Do-kwon could finish seeing all the photos.
“Director. We have arrived.”
Secretary Jeong announced the arrival in a plain sentence. However, Do-kwon gave no reaction. Secretary Jeong glanced back through the rearview mirror, wondering if Do-kwon had fallen asleep.
But Do-kwon was groaning with his neck hunched and his face completely crumpled. Cold sweat was beading on his neatly exposed forehead. Terrified, Secretary Jeong unbuckled his seatbelt and turned his upper body toward the back seat.
“……Director? Director! Are you okay?”
“Ugh…….”
“Where does it hurt? Is it the headache? Should I contact the hospital?”
“No…… no. I’m fine.”
Do-kwon rubbed his face hard with both hands. He squeezed his eyes shut and opened them to clear his head, and shook his head from side to side. He pressed hard on his temples with his thumb and index finger, trying to disperse the headache. However, it wasn’t very effective.
With trembling hands, Do-kwon shoved Eun-soo’s phone into his inner pocket. Then, taking a long deep breath, he looked out the car window.
“Is it here?”
“Yes. The white building.”
Secretary Jeong nodded concisely. Do-kwon opened the car door and stepped one long leg outside. At that, Secretary Jeong asked urgently.
“Shall I come with you?”
“No, it’s fine.”
Lightly rejecting Secretary Jeong’s goodwill, Do-kwon closed the car door and walked steadily toward the white building.
The jewelry shop wasn’t particularly special. The only slightly unusual thing was that no jewels were on display. The interior, entirely white, was to the point where he couldn’t tell if he had come to a jewelry shop or a hospital.
Do-kwon looked around while buttoning his suit jacket. Just then,
“Hello. How can I help you?”
A woman who looked to be of advanced age approached with a slight bow. Do-kwon tilted his head slightly and checked the gold name tag pinned to the woman’s chest. Store Owner. He didn’t bother to read the name.
The owner. It seemed this was the person who had sent him countless messages.
“I’ve come…… to pick up a ring.”
Do-kwon took his phone out of his pocket. He showed the received messages to the owner. After checking the messages, her eyes widened.
“Ah, Mr. Seo Do-kwon!”
“Yes. That’s correct.”
“Oh, my goodness. You’ve finally come. I usually remember my customers’ faces well, but since you didn’t come at all, I forgot for a moment. But your atmosphere has changed a bit……?”
“……Pardon?”
“No. It’s nothing. Please come this way.”
The owner smiled brightly and guided Do-kwon. Do-kwon followed her. The owner passed through a main hall that wasn’t very large and entered a corridor with soft lighting.
After walking for some time, the owner opened a heavy-looking door and guided Do-kwon into a small room. Like the main hall, the room was covered entirely in white. Only a wide marble table and a plush sofa were placed there, making it look almost desolate.
Still, a single rose in a vase on the table made the atmosphere feel much fresher and more luxurious. As Do-kwon scanned the surroundings,
“Please wait here for a moment. I will go get the ring you ordered.”
The owner bowed and left the room. It was impressive that she didn’t utter a single word of criticism or lament, even though she had searched for him so anxiously and he had been so irresponsibly absent.
Do-kwon sat on the sofa and closed and opened his eyes tightly. His fatigue had reached its peak due to the headache that continued to torment his brain. As he rubbed his forehead, the red rose on the table suddenly caught his eye.
“…….”
Do-kwon stared intently at the flower. It was just an ordinary rose, nothing special other than the fact that it was in full bloom. For some reason, he couldn’t take his eyes off it.
It felt as if he had seen it somewhere. Did it make sense to feel a rose was familiar? But it really was. In fact, it wasn’t just the rose; the table the vase stood on and the soft lamp illuminating it left a strange afterimage on his retina.
He felt nauseous. Although he hadn’t eaten anything all day, something felt like it was about to surge up from his chest.
Do-kwon picked up his phone. He felt he had to go to the hospital. This wasn’t just some ordinary headache. He realized it only now. Something must have gone wrong with his head.
It was just before Do-kwon pressed Secretary Jeong’s number. The manager appeared holding a red jewelry case.
Do-kwon wrinkled his nose. Right. He had come all this way. He just had to take it, put it in his pocket, and leave. He just had to take that and go. He just had to endure for five minutes, no, three minutes. He could do that much.
Do-kwon swallowed hard and straightened his posture. The manager sat opposite him and opened the box with hands wearing white cotton gloves. Two red boxes with the same design as the outer box appeared. They were similar in size to common ring cases.
The manager opened the lid of one of them. A soft-looking red cloth was revealed. As she carefully lifted the cloth with her index finger and thumb, a softly sparkling ring revealed itself.
Do-kwon stared at it intently.
“This is the wedding ring for your partner. White gold and pink gold are intertwined in a soft curve, and the inside that contacts the skin is finished with yellow gold.”
“…….”
“Fifty-five diamonds are set around the ring, and because the diamond cutting was done in a completely new way, the light and shadow spread roundly and softly when it catches the light.”
“…….”
The manager opened another ring case and placed it in front of Do-kwon.
“This is your wedding ring. It is made entirely of white gold instead of pink gold, and the diamond size is the same. However, sixty-five diamonds were used.”
Do-kwon looked at the pair of rings with clouded eyes. The moment he faced the rings, strangely, the headache subsided. How should he put it? It wasn’t that the pain vanished completely, but it felt as if his brain had turned into cold jelly. It felt as if his brain no longer belonged to him.
Just then, a low voice was heard from afar.
‘I’m a designer, so I’m sensitive to these things. I’d like it to be neither too clunky nor too flashy. And obviously, nothing tacky.’
‘No. He’ll hate it if the gem is too large. When buying accessories, he prefers designs that blend in naturally with anything.’
‘I want it to be high in value, even if the gem isn’t chunky. I don’t want to put just anything on his finger.’
‘That’s too simple. How is that any different from a design anyone and everyone wears? I didn’t come all the way here to find something like this.’
‘I hope it arrives as early as possible. I plan to propose as soon as the ring comes.’
‘Ah, he’s pregnant. I need to get him settled in my house and take care of him as soon as possible.’
‘A baby? They’ll be beautiful. Since they’ll take after him, they’ll obviously be beautiful.’
It was a familiar voice. It was his own voice, so of course it was. Do-kwon frowned slightly. It was his first time experiencing such vivid remnants of the past, and it felt strange. He knew these were words he had spoken himself, yet they felt foreign. At the same time, the background and situation of that moment vaguely came back to him.
As Do-kwon tried to focus on the echoing past, the store manager spoke softly.
“Please check if this is the design you ordered. You can check the gem here with this microscope, and if you find any scratches or defects, the appraiser will…”
“No. It’s fine. I’ll just take it.”
“Oh… well, please come back later if you need to. Anytime is fine.”
The manager carefully repackaged the ring. She covered it with a red cloth, closed the case, placed the case in a white paper bag, and handed it to Do-kwon. Taking it, Do-kwon stood up. The somewhat heavy paper bag made him feel strangely good.
The owner stood up following him. Do-kwon gave her a slight nod and was just about to step away when—
Suddenly, the floor leaped up. Like a scene from a movie where dreams and reality merge. The floor surged upward, and furniture, defying gravity, clung to the walls.
Do-kwon narrowed his eyes at the bizarre sight, and then his vision tilted sharply to the side. It wasn’t that he was falling; the world itself was tilting crookedly.
What was happening? Was the end of the world finally coming? Then what about Eun-soo? He couldn’t be swept away by the apocalypse without even opening his eyes.
He had to go quickly. Quickly to the hospital… hurry…
It was just as he took a stride forward with his feet planted on the floor, thinking those thoughts.
Drip, drip. A heavy liquid poured from his nostrils. Do-kwon reflexively covered the area under his nose. Bright red blood stained his hand. There was so much of it that it soaked his broad palm instantly.
Do-kwon stared blankly at the blood. Even as he looked at it, he didn’t realize it was his own. His mind was simply numb. His reason and thought processes blurred and collapsed to the point where he wondered if what was flowing from his nose wasn’t blood, but cerebral fluid.
“Oh my, oh my! Sir!”
The clerk screamed in a shrill voice. At those words, he felt his ears pop open, and then all the sounds of the world vanished. It was as if he had thrown himself into water. Only the sound of bubbles bursting—glug, glug—and the feeling of waves brushing past his ears were heard, or rather, felt.
Do-kwon collapsed to the floor very slowly. Above him, the world poured down like hail. The floor that had been the ceiling, the ceiling that had been the floor, the furniture hanging in the air, the upside-down table legs, and the red roses turned into a limp liquid and covered Do-kwon.
Once the world had melted away, only a deep darkness remained. Do-kwon was helplessly sucked into that darkness.
Even then, he gripped the paper bag containing the ring tightly.
‘Do-kwon.’
A pleasant voice reached him. The breath of the owner of that voice—Eun-soo—gently tickled his cheek.
‘Do-kwon, wake up.’
‘…’
‘If you wake up now, I’ll tell you I love you.’
It was a simple yet romantic phrase. I’ll tell you I love you. The way he said it, almost boastfully, was so beautiful and precious. Eun-soo’s words of love were words he wanted to gather and store carefully in his chest. They were words he didn’t want to show anyone, and words he wanted to hear every single day.
A faint smile crept onto Do-kwon’s lips.
Yes. I’ll wake up now. Just as he was about to answer—
‘Team Leader Yu?’
Another voice—his own voice from the distant past—cut through his thoughts.
‘Yes, Director.’
Eun-soo answered. It was that day. The day he first spoke with Eun-soo. The day he had frequented the 14th floor incessantly and finally stood before him.
‘About the internal training app we’re making with the HR team.’
‘Yes.’
‘I’d like to take a look at it.’
‘Uh… I will visit the Director’s office in an hour.’
‘You’re saying you’ll come to the office?’
‘If it’s… inconvenient, shall we meet in the meeting room?’
‘No. It’s not inconvenient. The office is fine. It’s cozy, and it’ll just be the two of us. It’s good.’
As Do-kwon drifted through that moment, frowning, the scene changed again before he could even adapt. This time, the background was a spacious bed. He was infinitely tenderly brushing back the hair of a sleeping Eun-soo.
‘Eun-soo.’
‘…’
‘Eun-soo, you have to wake up. Hmm?’
‘Do-kwon… just a little more… really just a little… five more minutes…’
Eun-soo mumbled and burrowed into his arms. He could feel Eun-soo’s pheromones, which were calmly settled because it was morning. Eun-soo’s early morning scent. A scent not just anyone could smell. Intoxicated by that sweet smell, he rubbed his face against the nape of Eun-soo’s neck.
‘Eun-soo.’
‘Yes.’
‘I love you.’
‘I like you too, Do-kwon.’
‘I said I love you. Just liking me isn’t enough.’
‘Ah, I love you, Do-kwon. I want to both like you and love you.’
Memories of childishly begging for love and arguing over who loved whom more came back,
‘Give me one more kiss before you go.’
‘Alright, alright. Gah, you said a kiss! Get your hand off my butt, quickly!’
Memories of rolling around the bed while hugging that small, soft body,
‘About the baby.’
‘Yeah.’
‘I hope they take after you, Do-kwon.’
‘I don’t want that. They should take after you. If they take after me, I don’t think I’ll be fond of them.’
‘Why? They’d be incredibly handsome.’
‘My impression is too mean.’
‘Pfft… no it’s not. How is your impression mean, Do-kwon?’
Memories of conversations imagining the future of a child still smaller than a finger,
‘Eun-soo.’
‘Yes.’
‘Shall we…’
‘Yes.’
‘…get married?’
‘…What?’
Memories of a confession that burst out of his mouth helplessly, like a flower bud meeting spring, also returned. Fragmented memories popped randomly like soap bubbles.
And the final memory was—
‘Eun-soo.’
‘Do-kwon.’
Honk— HONK! A harshly blaring horn. Intense headlights. For a split second, eyes meeting Eun-soo’s. The shadow of a dump truck that felt like a giant mountain. Desperately hugging the small body. A massive impact and a world shaking violently. The interior of the car twisting and hot blood soaking his body. It was a wreckage of a scene, distorted and messy.
Having recalled up to that point, Do-kwon—
“Haaah…!”
Bolted upright.
It was the moment his brain, which had been riddled with holes, finally regained its complete form.
Where Do-kwon came to his senses was a single-person hospital room. The furniture arrangement and interior were very familiar; it seemed to be the same hospital where Eun-soo’s room was.
“…”
After catching his breath for a moment, Do-kwon leaped out of the bed with bloodshot eyes. However, his muscles, which he hadn’t yet recovered, failed to function, and he fell flat on his face in an unsightly manner. The IV line, which he hadn’t realized was inserted in the back of his hand, coiled around, braking his movement.
Do-kwon ripped the IV out carelessly. Then, as if springing up, he dashed out of the hospital room.
Wearing a shirt with a couple of buttons undone and only suit socks on his feet without shoes. It was a pathetic sight to be seen outside, but Do-kwon didn’t care in the slightest.
He had to see Eun-soo. Right now, he wanted to see Eun-soo as quickly as possible. He had stopped by the room in the early dawn and seen him sleeping, but he still wanted to see him.
The one who saw him this morning was a Seo Do-kwon with a hole in his head, but the Seo Do-kwon running to see him now was a whole Seo Do-kwon, so it was entirely different.
Coming out of the room, Do-kwon looked around. He saw Secretary Jeong talking to a doctor in the middle of the hallway. Do-kwon checked the room number he had just left. It was exactly one floor below the room where Eun-soo was.
Do-kwon immediately dashed into the emergency exit. With a desperate expression like someone escaping a fire, and a face brimming with fear, he quickly ran up the stairs.
It was only one floor, so there weren’t many stairs, and they weren’t even that high—enough to stride up three at a time in one breath—yet the upper floor simply would not get closer.
He felt like an ant trapped on a Möbius strip. His center of gravity kept wavering due to his throbbing head, forcing him to grip the railing as if he would rip it out.
Do-kwon tried his best to ignore his swaying vision and moved his knees again and again. And finally, he was able to grab the handle of the emergency exit door on the upper floor.
Do-kwon flung the door open. Unlike the emergency exit, a piercing light stabbed at his eyeballs. Do-kwon twisted his head and stepped out of the exit. A wide hallway greeted him. It was a hallway no different from the one below, yet it felt strangely different.
He didn’t know if it was because he had become familiar with it from visiting every day, or because he knew it was where Eun-soo was.
“Director?”
At the thump of the emergency exit door, the guards, who had been tense, showed signs of bewilderment. It was understandable, as it was none other than Do-kwon appearing through the emergency exit, looking as if he had fled from somewhere.
Do-kwon silently ignored their confusion. And finally, he stood before the door to Eun-soo’s room. He gripped the door handle with trembling hands. The sliding door was light and smooth, but today it felt as clunky and heavy as an iron gate.
“…”
Holding his breath, Do-kwon slowly opened the door.
A light even more piercing and bright than the hallway seeped into Do-kwon’s retinas. Do-kwon closed his eyes tightly and then opened them. As his eyes adjusted to the light, a thin figure sitting on the bed entered his view.
“…Eun-soo.”
Do-kwon spat out the long-missed name in a suppressed voice.
* * *
As soon as Eun-soo opened his eyes, he knew. Bom was gone.
It was a strange experience. His mind was hazy, submerged in medication, and he had no sensation in his arms or legs, yet the fact that his womb had become desolate came to him with cruel clarity and vividness.
Eun-soo blinked for a moment, staring at the ceiling.
Since becoming pregnant, it wasn’t the first or second time he had woken up staring at a hospital ceiling. Every time, his mind had been numb, soaked in all sorts of drugs like painkillers and suppressants. Even when he had called 119 himself and been brought in, it had taken several minutes to figure out why he was in the hospital, what had happened, and what his last memory was.
But today, everything came back accurately and clearly.
The black box and drugs found in Seong-heon’s dressing room, the plastic clothes, the phone call ignored by Do-kwon, the escape, the emergency exit, the crowded streets, the unbelievable truth, the blurred vision, the rattling knees, and the rough asphalt and flashing headlights. Even that ecstatic feeling of flying through the sky.
Everything came back vividly.
Eun-soo slowly raised his upper body. His body hurt. It was natural to hurt since he must have been crushed, fragmented, and ruptured, but that pain felt very new.
Ah, I’m still alive. It was because he could feel that vividly.
Eun-soo looked out the window with clouded eyes. High-rise buildings were packed tightly under a clear sky. It seemed the world was still turning busily.
However, it didn’t feel like reality. It was because he was so far removed that no noise reached him. Only the shhh sound of the humidifier and the beep-beep of the machines attached to his body could be heard. Dust floating in the bright sunlight appeared and disappeared intermittently.
Watching this, Eun-soo slowly placed his hand over his stomach. His flat stomach had no sign of life. He had become accustomed to the feeling of it being plumply swollen, filling his palm. Now, it felt like touching a dry wooden barrel. It felt even more so because his protruding ribs caught against his fingers.
Eun-soo stared blankly into the void for a long time.
How long he had been asleep in this room, what he had to do, what happened to Seong-heon, what to do about company work—there were many things he needed to know, but he didn’t particularly want to know.
There was only one thing he had to do. Eun-soo knew that very clearly.
As Eun-soo closed and opened his eyes slowly, pondering how to handle that ‘thing he had to do,’ a small commotion was heard outside the door. Even then, Eun-soo didn’t give the door a single glance.
After a few seconds, the door opened. And a stream of a familiar voice flowed in.
“…Eun-soo.”
A low, damp voice called Eun-soo’s name. Eun-soo slowly turned his head to look at the owner of the voice.
Do-kwon was standing at the door. With a completely distorted face, ragged breathing, a suppressed voice, disheveled clothes, and eyes damp with self-reproach and guilt.
It wasn’t difficult for Eun-soo to deduce why Do-kwon had such an expression, why he was looking at him with those eyes.
He found it. His memories.
It had been a truly long time since he had seen Do-kwon like this. Not the Do-kwon who had lost his memories, not the Do-kwon who looked at him coldly, not the Do-kwon who treated him without a shred of emotion.
He saw that Do-kwon—the one who looked at him with eyes full of tenderness and affection, the one who always put him first—after a very, very long time.
A faint smile crept onto Eun-soo’s lips. At the sight of Eun-soo, Do-kwon stumbled toward him. Then, he sank to his knees as if collapsing.
“Eun-soo… Eun-soo…”
With his head bowed, Do-kwon called Eun-soo’s name repeatedly. Since Eun-soo was right in front of him, there was no way he couldn’t hear, yet he called and called again. As if he intended to call the name he hadn’t been able to say for nearly half a year.
While he called his name to his heart’s content, Eun-soo was slowly scanning the hospital room. As if he were looking for something.
Do-kwon looked at Eun-soo with eyes where blood vessels had risen like spiderwebs. He reached out toward Eun-soo’s limp hand. Their fingertips brushed slightly. At that, Do-kwon curled his fingers back as if he had touched something scorching. Then, he fumbled and wrapped his hand around the back of Eun-soo’s hand. He buried his forehead on top of it.
“I… I… How could I… to you…”
“…”
“I shouldn’t have forgotten you… Ugh, I… shouldn’t have…”
“…”
“Eun-soo… hic… I, I was wrong… Eun-soo…”
I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Eun-soo. I’m sorry. Do-kwon apologized in a deeply sunken voice. He apologized with all his heart, his shoulders trembling violently. Even then, he didn’t know how to loosen his grip on Eun-soo’s hand.
“Ugh, Eun-soo… I’m sorry…”
Do-kwon’s tear-soaked monologue continued for a long time. Every time he called Eun-soo’s name, tears dripped down. The tears he shed soaked Eun-soo’s fingertips with heat and made the blanket damp.
Do-kwon cried out Eun-soo’s name without pause.
That was all he could do.
He had absolutely no talent for apologizing. He had no idea where to start or end his plea for forgiveness, or how to continue the apology.
Above all, he didn’t dare ask for forgiveness. The words dangled on the tip of his tongue but wouldn’t come out.
He felt suffocated by his own inadequacy, and he wondered how arrogant he must look in Eun-soo’s eyes. He didn’t know what to do with himself.
He felt like he would rather smash his head against the ground. He wanted to slam it down over and over until his skull cracked and his brain flowed out in a slushy mess. Even then, if Eun-soo said it wasn’t enough, he wanted to break his limbs one by one, and if that still wasn’t enough, he wanted to rip open his stomach and pour out his internal organs, and if that still wasn’t enough, he wanted to hand his own neck to Eun-soo, just as Myeong-hui had said.
He felt that would seem more sincere than just babbling with words.
“Eun-soo…”
Do-kwon was desperate. And he was terrified. Eun-soo was clearly in front of him, he was holding his hand, and he could feel Eun-soo’s gaze falling upon the crown of his head, yet he was anxious.
It felt as if Eun-soo might suddenly vanish into thin air. As if he hated himself so much, as if he found himself so loathsome, that he would simply leave for somewhere else. He felt as though he might turn into smoke and disappear, or crumble like sand—that he would simply vanish without a trace.
His gaunt body was so small. It wouldn’t even take a minute for him to disappear. Do-kwon was consumed by a piercing fear that Eun-soo would leave his side before he even had a chance to hold onto him.
Do-kwon wished Eun-soo would say something. Because he remained silent, the anxiety only doubled. It felt as if Eun-soo’s soul was already gone from this place. Or perhaps, he had given up on him long ago.
It didn’t feel like Eun-soo wanted forgiveness, nor did it feel like he harbored resentment or dreamed of revenge; rather, it felt as if he had simply decided to treat everything that had happened as if it never occurred—as if Do-kwon had been cleanly erased from his life.
Do-kwon readjusted his grip on Eun-soo’s hand with both of his. Then, he began to blur out fragmented words.
“I shouldn’t have done that. Because of me, you… you’re like this… Hic, Bomi, Bomi is like this because of me too…”
For a moment, Eun-soo flinched. Not missing that reaction, Do-kwon snapped his head up. Do-kwon’s face was reflected in Eun-soo’s light brown eyes, which remained breathtakingly beautiful.
Looking down at Do-kwon’s tear-streaked face, Eun-soo slowly opened his mouth.
“Do-kwon.”
“…Uh, yeah?”
“Do you regret it?”
“…Eun-soo. I…”
“Don’t regret it. I told you not to regret it.”
“…”
“I’m telling you… that I’m the one who abandoned you.”
With the hand that wasn’t being held, Eun-soo tenderly stroked Do-kwon’s cheek. His palm, riddled with scars, felt rough, unlike Eun-soo.
At that, Do-kwon’s face grew damp again. The moment he tried to grab the hand resting on his cheek, Eun-soo withdrew it.
The brief warmth of Eun-soo’s touch left a deep mark. As Do-kwon looked up at Eun-soo, dazed like a fool, Eun-soo pulled away the other hand as well.
Do-kwon didn’t want to let go. However, fearing that Eun-soo might dislike it or that he might upset him, he let go obediently. Right now, he didn’t want to be disliked by Eun-soo, even for the act of taking a single breath.
As Do-kwon watched him silently, Eun-soo began to remove the medical equipment and IV lines attached to his body. He did it so calmly and nonchalantly—as if disconnecting his own lifelines—that Do-kwon couldn’t bring himself to stop him, even while staring blankly.
“Eun-soo…?”
While Do-kwon stood there stupidly dazed, Eun-soo pulled out the IV and indifferently wiped away the small bead of blood rising on the back of his hand with his thumb. Then, he lowered his legs, which creaked as if rusted. It seemed he intended to get out of bed.
Stunned, Do-kwon grabbed his elbow.
“E-Eun-soo. You can’t get up yet. Not yet…”
“I want to go to the bathroom.”
Eun-soo spoke in a flat, toneless voice. At that, Do-kwon’s eyebrows shot up and then dropped. He let go of the elbow he had gripped to stop him, then grabbed it again. This time, he held him below the elbow, attempting to support Eun-soo’s weight.
“Ah, uh, I’ll help you.”
Eun-soo leaned into Do-kwon’s embrace and stood on the floor. Realizing belatedly that Eun-soo was barefoot, Do-kwon thought he should just carry him to the bathroom. Then, Eun-soo let out a small groan, his features twisting.
“Ugh…”
“Does it hurt? Should I call the doctor? The doctor?”
With a face pale with fright, Do-kwon held Eun-soo. Eun-soo shook his head.
“After… I go to the bathroom.”
“Right, okay.”
Do-kwon carefully supported Eun-soo as they moved toward the bathroom. In his heart, he wanted to just scoop him up and carry him, but he couldn’t easily touch him, fearing that any grip anywhere would cause pain.
It took the two of them several full minutes to reach the bathroom inside the hospital room. Do-kwon opened the door and naturally tried to enter with him, but Eun-soo looked up at him, his brow slightly furrowed.
“Are you coming in too?”
“Ah… right. I’ll wait outside.”
Do-kwon smiled awkwardly and took a step back. Gripping the door with his thin hand, Eun-soo limped into the bathroom.
The combined bathroom and restroom space was as luxurious and clean as a hotel bathroom. The spacious tub, the large showerhead, the marble sink, the huge mirror without a single fingerprint, and the soft golden lighting were all very sophisticated.
After looking around the bathroom for a moment, Eun-soo suddenly called out to Do-kwon.
“Do-kwon.”
“Yeah?”
“By any chance… do you remember when you first saw me?”
Do-kwon’s breath hitched at the question asked in that calm voice. His heart plummeted, and he felt as if the floor were giving way. A chill ran down his spine. It was an abrupt question, but he could tell immediately what kind of answer Eun-soo was expecting.
With a frantic expression, Do-kwon licked his dry lips.
“That is, Eun-soo… actually…”
Actually… He managed to start speaking, but continuing was not easy. No matter what he said or how he said it, he couldn’t hide his shameless past or the fact that he had approached Eun-soo with impure intentions.
His cowardly tongue curled inward, unable to confess the truth. His fingers twitched anxiously, and his eyes darted left and right, unable to find a focus.
After hesitating for several seconds, Do-kwon pressed his lips tight.
What was there left to hide at this point? If he had to be hated, he wanted to be hated as severely as possible. It was a sin he had committed, so he had to endure it. He shouldn’t hide anything from Eun-soo anymore.
Just as Do-kwon’s lips parted to say something:
“Ah… I’ll hear it after I’m done.”
Eun-soo paused the conversation. Perhaps Eun-soo… had already heard the answer in Do-kwon’s hesitation and silence.
Yet, cruelly, Do-kwon let out a sigh of relief. He felt like a defendant whose trial had been postponed.
Eun-soo staggered into the bathroom and closed the door. Just before the door shut completely, their eyes met for a moment, and Eun-soo mercifully gave him a faint smile. Facing that grace-like smile, Do-kwon’s lips curled up in a smile as well.
Maybe, just maybe. He thought that Eun-soo might forgive him. Because Eun-soo had smiled at him. Because he had tenderly stroked his cheek when he deserved nothing but curses.
Could he hope a little? Could it be that Eun-soo still loved him? Now that his memories had returned, wouldn’t their relationship return to how it was before? Could they be happy again, as if it had all never happened?
He had such shameless thoughts.
Then. Click. The bathroom door locked. Do-kwon’s shoulders flinched, but he soon dismissed it as nothing. He figured Eun-soo was still uncomfortable.
However, a few seconds later, a loud crash! echoed from inside the bathroom. It wasn’t the sound of a cup or a plate; it was a powerful, loud noise, like a large pane of glass shattering.
“Eun-soo?”
Do-kwon pressed himself against the bathroom door and called out. But Eun-soo didn’t answer. Growing anxious, Do-kwon pounded on the door.
“Eun-soo. What’s happening?”
“…”
“Eun-soo!”
With every unanswered call, the anxiety surged. Do-kwon’s face went cold. He grabbed the handle of the sliding bathroom door and pulled hard. But because Eun-soo had engaged the lock, the door only rattled; it wouldn’t open.
“Eun-soo!”
Do-kwon hammered on the door as if to break it. The noise was so loud the ground vibrated slightly. Still, Eun-soo did not answer. Do-kwon’s face flushed and paled in rapid succession. He was terrified. He had never felt this kind of anxiety in his life. It felt as if something had happened to Eun-soo.
“Director. Is something wrong?”
“Director.”
He could hear the guards knocking on the door nearby. But Do-kwon didn’t have the presence of mind to answer them.
Gritting his teeth, Do-kwon gripped the handle tightly and pulled with all his might. The steel handle, fastened by screws, began to screech and twist.
Do-kwon let out a sharp breath. Then, he twisted and pulled the handle with even more force than before. The handle, which had resisted until the end, finally tore away with a snap, and the lock broke with a crunch. And finally, the door opened.
“Eun…!”
“…”
“Soo…?”
The end of Do-kwon’s loud call for Eun-soo trailed off, as if falling off a cliff.
The bathroom was a disaster. The mirror above the sink was completely shattered, with glass strewn across the sink, the floor, and inside the tub. The showerhead, which looked heavy, was lying haphazardly on the floor, and Eun-soo… was slumped beside the toilet.
“…”
Eun-soo stared blankly at Do-kwon. Do-kwon stared back. More accurately, he stared at the hideous shard of glass embedded in Eun-soo’s slender wrist.
“Eun-soo, Eun-soo…”
Do-kwon’s lower jaw trembled violently. What was this? Why was that in Eun-soo’s wrist? How? Why? Even though he was seeing it clearly with his own eyes, he couldn’t believe it.
Coming to his senses a beat late, Do-kwon rushed to Eun-soo. Just as he knelt on one knee and was about to touch Eun-soo’s wrist, Eun-soo pulled out the glass that had been embedded deep in his wrist.
There was a squelch sound. It was the sound of skin and muscle tearing away from the glass. It wasn’t even that loud, but to Do-kwon, it felt loud enough to shake the entire bathroom.
But that wasn’t the end. The moment the blood-soaked glass came out, blood sprayed with immense force. As if someone had pinched the end of a trickling hose to increase the pressure, a torrent of blood poured over Do-kwon’s face. The scattering droplets of blood seemed slow, like a slow-motion film. He felt as if he could count every single drop floating in the air.
“Ah, aaah…”
Do-kwon let out a thin moan. Though it was Eun-soo whose wrist was torn and bleeding, he uttered no words, no groans. He simply stared at the blood spurting like a fountain with unfocused pupils.
With trembling hands, Do-kwon gripped Eun-soo’s wrist. He squeezed tightly to stop the blood from flowing. But the bleeding didn’t stop. It spurted so violently that Do-kwon could feel the pressure tickling his palm.
Do-kwon’s hand was quickly stained red. Bright red blood streamed between his fingers.
“Eun-soo, Eun-soo… No, Eun-soo.”
Do-kwon shook his head. Like an idiot, he stuttered and let time slip away without being able to provide any first aid. His mind was blank. It was as if someone had stolen his brain; reason and thought had vanished.
Then, Eun-soo’s other hand entered his field of vision. It was the hand tightly gripping the glass he had just pulled from his wrist. The sharp edges of the glass dug into his palm and fingers, and blood leaked out in small amounts. It looked incredibly painful, but Eun-soo did not loosen his grip. He looked as if he were ready to stab himself in the neck if things didn’t go his way.
Do-kwon tried to take it away. But Eun-soo would not let go. Terror filled Do-kwon’s eyes. He could feel that Eun-soo truly, sincerely, desired death.
“Eun-soo, why, why… Eun-soo. Not this. Please? Not this…”
“…”
“Stab me instead, me… Eun-soo, please…”
Do-kwon pleaded in a trembling voice. But far from letting go of the glass, Eun-soo didn’t even respond.
Do-kwon could have taken the glass by force if he wanted to, but the more he tried, the tighter Eun-soo gripped it, making it impossible to touch. The blood flowing from his wrist was already pooling on the floor. He felt that if the other hand were injured as well, it would truly be a catastrophe.
“Ah… Eun-soo, please…”
Do-kwon hugged Eun-soo. The palm gripping Eun-soo’s wrist felt numb. His thoughts, crushed by heavy terror and fear, froze, leaving him unable to do anything. Then, he heard a presence behind him.
“Director?”
“My god…”
“Doctor. Call a doctor. Now!”
The guards, finding the commotion in the room strange, had burst in. Upon seeing the situation in the bathroom, they scattered in a panic, their faces pale. One went to find a doctor, and the other two searched the room for something to stop the bleeding.
The situation was a chaotic mess. Everyone was intoxicated by Eun-soo’s blood, yet Eun-soo, the catalyst of the chaos, was remarkably composed. As Do-kwon readjusted his grip on the hand that kept slipping because of the blood, Eun-soo finally set down the piece of glass he had been stubbornly holding.
“…Eun-soo?”
Strangely, Do-kwon felt an even greater terror at that action. It was as if Eun-soo knew the state of his own body. That he no longer needed the piece of glass. That he couldn’t gather back the blood he had poured out. He seemed to know that he had achieved his goal.
As Do-kwon’s pupils trembled, Eun-soo, who had been staring into space the whole time, looked at him.
“Do-kwon.”
“Yes, I’m here. Eun-soo.”
Do-kwon cradled Eun-soo. At his desperate and earnest face, Eun-soo let out a faint smile.
“Do you remember the day I visited your house?”
“…”
“You know, when your rut came.”
“…”
“As I was leaving your house then… I thought. The day we had that accident. Maybe I was actually destined to die. But because you saved me, because you defied fate, maybe that’s why both you and I are in so much pain…”
“No, no, no. Eun-soo. That’s not it.”
Do-kwon shook his head violently. He buried his nose in Eun-soo’s hair. His heart trembled. A terror he had never experienced in his entire life engulfed him.
“If I die, I won’t have to hurt anymore. Neither I, nor you.”
Eun-soo spoke as if reciting a poem. His body kept growing colder. Eun-soo’s pheromone scent, which had already been faint, was now almost nonexistent. Previously, there had been a scent even in the blood Eun-soo spilled, but the blood that had since cooled now emitted only a thick metallic smell.
Do-kwon hugged Eun-soo even tighter. It was to rub his own warmth onto him. If it were possible, he wanted to tear open his own wrist to fill Eun-soo’s lacking blood.
Why wasn’t the doctor coming? What were the guards doing? It hadn’t even been a minute since they disappeared, but it felt as if an hour had passed.
Do-kwon examined Eun-soo’s face. His skin, which had always been fair, was now bloodless and pale. His eyes, though open, were more than halfway closed. Eun-soo blinked his eyelids slowly, as if he were sleepy. He was in a state where it wouldn’t be strange at all if he closed them and never opened them again.
“Eun-soo…”
Tears streamed down Do-kwon’s face. Then, the piece of glass Eun-soo had dropped caught his eye.
Yes, he couldn’t let Eun-soo go alone like this. Leaving him alone until now had been enough. Eun-soo was more prone to loneliness than anyone. He had to be with him, even in that place.
Just as Do-kwon reached for the glass shard, Eun-soo’s hand stopped his wrist.
“No.”
“Eun-soo?”
“Don’t die.”
The strength returned to Eun-soo’s languidly unfocused eyes. He spoke with such a firm voice that Do-kwon instinctively withdrew his hand. Eun-soo stroked Do-kwon’s chest with his blood-stained hand. Then, in a very gentle voice, as if soothing a throwing-a-tantrum child, he spoke softly.
“Do-kwon, don’t you die.”
“…”
“I don’t want to be with you there.”
“…Eun-soo.”
Do-kwon’s face collapsed in despair. Eun-soo smiled faintly at him. It wasn’t sarcasm or mockery. How should he put it? Yes. It was a sense of liberation. He seemed truly happy to have finally met his freedom.
“I’m going to be with Bom. I don’t need anyone else now.”
“…”
“So… don’t follow me. If you’re truly sorry to me, don’t follow me.”
At those words, Do-kwon could neither agree nor disagree. He was just… just sad. At Eun-soo’s words that he didn’t even want to be with him in death, it felt as if the world were collapsing.
While Do-kwon stood frozen, unable to say or do anything, Eun-soo slid sideways and collapsed. His slender hair tickled the area around Do-kwon’s chin.
At that moment, the doctors rushed in. Pulling Eun-soo from Do-kwon’s arms, the doctors stopped the bleeding in his wrist and checked his pupils with a penlight. After exchanging words among themselves, they carried Eun-soo outside.
“…Director.”
Secretary Jeong, who had followed the doctors, called out to Do-kwon with a grief-stricken face. However, Do-kwon did not answer. He only stared blankly at his palms, which were completely soaked in Eun-soo’s blood.
Emotions he had never experienced in his life surged over him like waves, swallowing him whole. It was a vortex of emotion that defied description. If he had to put it into words, it would be a mixture of despair, loneliness, emptiness, horror, and fear.
The thought that Eun-soo must have felt this deep loneliness and heavy despair countless times made him want to die right then and there. Yet, because Eun-soo had left behind the words telling him not to die, he couldn’t bring himself to slit his own throat, even though there were so many sharp shards of glass scattered across the floor.
For a long while, Do-kwon remained sprawled on the floor where Eun-soo’s blood was strewn. He had to go see Eun-soo. He had to keep his eyes wide open and watch exactly what the doctors were doing to Eun-soo. But his legs would not hold his weight.
Am I allowed to go? Am I allowed to be by Eun-soo’s side? Would Eun-soo even want that? What if he regains consciousness only to faint again upon seeing my face? Such thoughts plagued him.
In the end, Do-kwon remained dazed in the middle of the pool of Eun-soo’s blood until Secretary Jeong told him that Eun-soo had entered the operating room.
Do-kwon staggered to his feet. Droplets of Eun-soo’s blood clung to his fingertips, trembling. He felt such a profound sense of loss that he couldn’t bring himself to shake them off, instead curling his hands into tight fists.
The closed doors of the operating room remained shut for a long time. Numerous bags of blood went in and in again. Do-kwon stood blankly in front of the operating room, covered in blood.
Secretary Jeong subtly offered him water and tried to persuade him to change his clothes, but he gave no answer.
Do-kwon just stood there, frozen and brittle, like a dead man.
As Secretary Jeong paced anxiously, not knowing what to do, the sound of people approaching echoed from the end of the hallway. Secretary Jeong turned around. Myeong-hui and Ki-ho were hurrying toward them.
“Do-kwon. What… what happened? Huh? Why is Eun-soo, why is he…?”
Ki-ho grabbed Do-kwon’s forearm. Then, belatedly noticing Do-kwon’s state, he recoiled and stepped back. It wasn’t because he was afraid of blood, but because he realized instantly whose blood it was that Do-kwon was drenched in—the sheer volume of it told the story.
Ki-ho staggered violently. Do-kwon quickly supported him and helped him into a chair. Ki-ho looked at Do-kwon with reddened eyes. His gaze demanded an explanation: how this had happened, why it had come to this, and why Eun-soo was in the operating room.
In response, Do-kwon’s lips pressed together in a firm line. Since he was the root and the cause of this entire situation, he had nothing to say even if he had two mouths.
As Do-kwon stood with his head hanging and fists clenched, Myeong-hui, who had been staring hopelessly at Eun-soo’s name displayed on a corner of the operating room sign, approached him.
“M-mother…”
Do-kwon called out to Myeong-hui in a trembling voice. The moment he looked at her—the woman who was still his family, his mother—tears began to fall. His cheeks, which had barely dried, became damp once more.
Myeong-hui stared at his face, her eyes widening.
“…Do-kwon?”
Looking at Do-kwon’s flushed eyelids, his pupils riddled with pain and terror, his face a mess of blood and tears, and the overflow of emotion on a countenance that had once been cold, she could tell that he had finally regained his memories.
“You… finally…”
“Mother… ugh…”
“…”
“Eun-soo… I think Eun-soo hates me very much.”
He says he hates me. He says he hates me so much he wants to die. He told me not to follow him because he wants to be alone, even there. He says he is destined to die. Just how much… how much must he hate me… He didn’t seem to feel any pain at all, even while bleeding that much. Eun-soo hates pain. He gets lonely easily. He must hate me enough to endure all of that…
Do-kwon mumbled the events as if possessed. At this, Myeong-hui and Ki-ho’s jaws dropped. Secretary Jeong quietly turned away to wipe his tears.
After mumbling through a chaotic sequence of anxiety, sadness, and self-reproach for a long time, Do-kwon slowly collapsed. Sinking to his knees on the floor, he burst into loud, child-like sobs.
Throughout the long surgery, not only Do-kwon, but Myeong-hui, Ki-ho, and Secretary Jeong remained motionless in front of the operating room. Hours later, the doctor emerged first to explain Eun-soo’s condition.
As expected, the doctor listed a barrage of negative terms—excessive bleeding, shock, and so on—before offering the irresponsible remark that they had done their best and that waking up depended on the patient’s will.
The patient’s will. It wasn’t an accident; it would be stranger if Eun-soo, who had slit his own wrists, actually had the will to live.
Myeong-hui demanded in a sharp voice how he could say such a thing. Ki-ho wept intermittently, and Do-kwon just stared blankly at the operating room door.
A few minutes later, Eun-soo appeared. To the naked eye, he looked quite fine. After the car accident, he had been wrapped in bandages and casts from head to toe and hooked up to various machines. Now, aside from the thick bandages on his wrists, he didn’t seem to have any injuries.
But his expression was different. Though his face was just as pale and his eyes were firmly closed, it felt as if he would never wake up again.
And indeed, for the next two days, Eun-soo did not open his eyes once.
For those two days, Do-kwon sat by Eun-soo’s side, doing nothing but watching him. He kept his eyes wide open, hoping for a flicker of an eyelid, a twitch of a finger, or a deep breath, but Eun-soo did not regain consciousness for even a fleeting moment. Far from waking up, he didn’t even stir.
Do-kwon bit his lower lip hard. He twisted and gnawed at it. His lips, abused for two days, finally gave way and burst. The metallic taste of blood lingered on his tongue. The smell made him nauseous.
Do-kwon wanted to rush to the bathroom and throw up immediately, but he couldn’t bring himself to move. Not only did he hate the idea of leaving Eun-soo’s side, but he feared that if he went to the bathroom, he might not be able to swallow the urge to die.
He felt as if he might plunge his nose into the toilet and die while thinking of the blood-drenched Eun-soo, or chew through the bathroom mirror and die, or bash his head against the hard floor until he died.
Eun-soo had told him not to die. He had said Do-kwon didn’t have the right to die. Therefore, he could not die. Do-kwon had been stripped of even the freedom of death.
Perhaps that was why, despite not eating anything for two days, he wasn’t hungry. Even without sleep, he wasn’t drowsy. It was because his soul-less body had ceased to function. He only hoped that this rotting shell of a body would hold out until Eun-soo opened his eyes.
Do-kwon rubbed his face harshly with both hands. The dried blood of Eun-soo on his palms turned to powder and fell away. A few specks landed on Eun-soo’s bed.
Do-kwon quickly brushed them off. Blood and Eun-soo. Those were two words he never wanted to put in the same sentence again.
It still didn’t feel real. Even though the blood spurting from Eun-soo’s wrists and the words he had spoken remained vividly etched in his mind, it felt like a dream.
…Maybe it really is a dream. Right, there’s no way Eun-soo would be lying here like this. Perhaps, back then… after the accident with Eun-soo, I haven’t actually woken up yet. Maybe all of this is one long dream.
Losing his memory, parting with Eun-soo, and eventually things ending up like this. He wondered if God was warning him in advance not to make such mistakes.
Then how can I wake up from this dream? If I open my eyes, Eun-soo will hug me with a bright smile. He’ll tell me he waited for me. That he missed me.
Do-kwon carefully stroked the back of Eun-soo’s hand with his fingertips. He was so thin that the bone was felt immediately. The temperature, which was lukewarm or even cold, was so low it was hard to believe it was the body heat of a living person.
It really seemed like a dream. He was certain he was having a long nightmare.
As Do-kwon thought this, the corners of his mouth began to twitch upward, when—
“Seo Do-kwon.”
A familiar voice shattered Do-kwon’s fantasy. Do-kwon’s shoulders flinched. Slowly emerging from the illusion, he looked at the owner of the voice, Myeong-hui, with clouded eyes.
“You’re back. What… did the doctor say?”
Myeong-hui had gone to see the doctor. He had stood up to go with her, but she had told him to stay by Eun-soo’s side, so he had sat back down. Usually, consultations with doctors took less than ten minutes. Since there was no improvement, there would be nothing to discuss.
However, today a full hour had passed without Myeong-hui returning. Thus, he had been hoping that perhaps he might hear some good news.
“What… the same. What he said yesterday.”
Myeong-hui answered, turning her gaze toward Eun-soo. At that, disappointment flashed in Do-kwon’s eyes. It seemed Eun-soo still had no intention of waking up.
As Do-kwon let out a long sigh through his nose, Myeong-hui spoke again.
“Go wash up.”
“…”
“You look like a beggar. If Eun-soo wakes up and sees you like that, he’ll be horrified and close his eyes again.”
“Ah…”
Do-kwon let out a short gasp. A beggar. He was in a state that matched that description exactly. Having stayed by Eun-soo’s side for two days without a wink of sleep, he was in terrible shape.
A shirt covered in Eun-soo’s bloodstains, suit pants similarly matted with blood and clung to with dust. Hospital slippers shoved haphazardly onto his feet. Dark circles under his eyes, sunken cheeks, and a rough growth of stubble.
Do-kwon rubbed his chin with his palm. Eun-soo had absolutely hated it when he grew a beard. Setting aside the prickliness, Eun-soo had shuddered, saying he looked like an old man. Do-kwon smiled faintly, remembering Eun-soo pushing him away with all his might when he would rush in to kiss him.
Myeong-hui clicked her tongue at his pathetic appearance. Then, she patted Do-kwon on the shoulder.
“Go home, wash up, and change your clothes. It looks like you’ll be here for a while, so bring some daily necessities.”
“I’ll ask Secretary Jeong…”
“I told you not to give Secretary Jeong personal errands.”
Myeong-hui growled, her upper lip curling. At that, Do-kwon had no choice but to stand up. If he ignored that warning, she might hand Secretary Jeong over to another executive.
“If anything happens to Eun-soo…”
“I’ll contact you.”
“…Yes. Then, I’ll be going.”
Do-kwon bowed politely. Myeong-hui waved her hand as if telling him to hurry along. Do-kwon lingered for a long time, looking back at Eun-soo every three steps, before finally leaving the room a few minutes later.
And the moment he closed the door, Myeong-hui pulled her phone out of her pocket.
* * *
Do-kwon stood blankly under a showerhead from which no water was flowing. The blood of Eun-soo that stained the backs of his hands, his fingers, and his wrists had been there for two days. It had dried stiffly, crumbling into powder whenever he moved. Even in his daze, he thought he had vaguely felt it was uncomfortable.
But when it came time to wash it away, he couldn’t bring himself to turn on the water, feeling as if he were erasing the traces of Eun-soo. So he stared at the dried blood, lost in thought for a long time. As he did, he could vividly feel the blood spurting like a fountain from Eun-soo’s wrists and his body temperature cooling down.
Goosebumps rose along his spine. He had never feared ghosts or monsters in his life, but he felt a chill as if all sorts of evil spirits were surrounding him, licking their lips.
Do-kwon abruptly flicked the faucet to the hot side and turned the water on to the strongest pressure. Clear, transparent water poured over his head with a rush. The water flowed down Do-kwon’s body, staining itself blood-red.
“…”
Do-kwon stared quietly at the red water flowing between his toes.
It hadn’t even been an hour since he left the hospital. He already missed Eun-soo.
Do-kwon arrived at the hospital after packing various necessities. He had only packed underwear, a razor, and some clothes, but the paper bag felt heavy. It felt as if it meant Eun-soo would be hospitalized for a long time, which didn’t make him feel great.
However, the weight on the fourth finger of his left hand felt good.
Do-kwon was wearing a ring. It was the ring he had ordered to propose to Eun-soo before the car accident.
It was a small greed of Do-kwon’s. He knew it was a selfish greed, a shameless greed, but he just wanted to wear it.
Of course, he didn’t put it on Eun-soo’s hand. He wanted to give it to him someday if Eun-soo said it was okay, if he forgave him, if he could stand by his side again. Until then, this half-pair of rings was not a wedding ring, but a shackle.
A shackle clearly engraved with Do-kwon’s sins. A shackle with a sentence of life imprisonment. A shackle that would never be released unless Eun-soo hugged him, telling him his sentence was over and all his debts were paid. A shackle he would wear until he entered a coffin in death.
Do-kwon intended to wear this ring and remind himself every day of the things he had done to Eun-soo. A single day would probably be too short.
But that was fine. Since meeting Eun-soo, there hadn’t been a single day that felt sufficient. The passing days were always regrettable, and the flowing time was always lacking.
When he held Eun-soo in his sight, the boundary between hours and minutes became blurred. Just when he thought five minutes had passed, five hours would often have flown by.
This time would be no different. Though he was reciting his sins and reflecting, Eun-soo was still permeated through those memories. It would hurt his heart because it wasn’t a smiling face but a tear-stained one. However, that too was a price he had to endure.
As Do-kwon stroked the ring with his thumb, the elevator gave a short chime, signaling it had reached its destination. Do-kwon quickly looked in the elevator mirror and lightly tidied his hair.
He hadn’t received any contact, but just in case Eun-soo had woken up, he wanted to look his best. He had no intention, not even a shred, of greeting him looking like a beggar.
Just as the elevator, tired of waiting for him, closed its maw, Do-kwon stepped out. Then, he moved his feet quickly into the hallway.
He wanted to see Eun-soo quickly. The beautiful Eun-soo, even while lying motionless with eyes closed. The Eun-soo who emitted a faint, pleasant scent. The Eun-soo with white, beautiful hands. The Eun-soo so beautiful that once you caught sight of him, it was hard to look away.
With steps filled with a faint excitement, Do-kwon approached the hospital room that had now become more familiar than his own home. However, for some reason, the door was wide open. Do-kwon tilted his head slightly and entered the room.
“Eun-soo…”
“My baby, hng… my baby…”
Deep sobbing pierced his ears. The moment he heard that crying, Do-kwon felt as if hooks were growing from his heels. Those hooks scraped the floor, carving grooves. Naturally, his legs grew heavy, and his pace slowed.
A thought he shouldn’t have had occurred to him. A scene he shouldn’t imagine was imagined.
Many people were surrounding Eun-soo’s bed. The doctors stood with their heads bowed like sinners, Myeong-hui was bent over, leaning on the bed, and Ki-ho was kneeling on the floor, burying his head in the bed and sobbing loudly.
Do-kwon dropped the paper bag he was holding. The contents spilled out everywhere. Even so, he didn’t spare them a single glance.
Do-kwon approached them, limping as if his legs were broken. He pushed aside the irritating doctors haphazardly and finally reached Eun-soo.
Eun-soo was lying there with his eyes closed sorrowfully, just as he had been a few hours ago.
However, the blankets were completely disarrayed. As if emergency treatment had been performed in haste, machines and medications were scattered randomly around, and the vital monitor was emitting a sharp sound, drawing a flat line.
He didn’t like it. Eun-soo was sensitive about where he slept. He had always slept in places that were neatly arranged.
Do-kwon haphazardly pushed away the medical equipment strewn beside Eun-soo. He even ripped out the wire connected to the vital monitor. Then, with trembling hands, he straightened the crumpled blanket.
“So noisy… what are you all doing here?”
Do-kwon glared at the people with cold eyes. He wanted to kick them out immediately. No, in his heart, he wanted to throw them out the window. But he decided against it, fearing that even that would be noise to Eun-soo.
“Do-kwon, Eun-soo… hng, Eun-soo…”
Ki-ho clung to the hem of Do-kwon’s pants. But Do-kwon didn’t give Ki-ho a single glance. As if he heard nothing. No, as if he refused to hear, he stared obsessively only at Eun-soo.
Do-kwon pulled the blanket up to Eun-soo’s chin. Then, fearing it might be stifling, he lowered it to the collarbone. Only then was he at peace.
And as he tried to pull his hand away, his hand wouldn’t move. Moreover, his fingers curled inward toward his palm. The blanket he had painstakingly spread became crumpled again. Do-kwon grit his teeth. Despite that, a single streak of grief, like a groan, escaped through the gaps in his teeth.
“Ugh…”
Eun-soo smelled of nothing. His body temperature, which had already been lukewarm, grew cold, and the corners of his mouth, which had been loosely drooping, stiffened into a flat line.
It was clearly Eun-soo, yet it wasn’t Eun-soo.
Do-kwon gently stroked Eun-soo’s cheek.
“Eun-soo?”
“…….”
“Eun…… soo…….”
Eun-soo did not answer. Do-kwon continued to call his name. Then, it suddenly occurred to him that no matter how he called that name, he would not receive an answer.
It felt as if the world were distorting. The air pressed down heavily on Do-kwon. The weight was so immense that Do-kwon could no longer stand. He slowly collapsed downward.
“Eun-soo…….”
Eun-soo was right before his eyes, yet he wasn’t.
Eun-soo was no longer in this world.
Not at the office, not at home, not even in this hospital.
Now, Eun-soo was gone.
He had lost Eun-soo.