GOT 1

The weather was foul. The wind blew, and the rain fell heavily. The clothes Seo Jeong-won had carefully chosen to wear were soaked through.

Seo Jeong-won, brushing water droplets from his large coat, recalled the last image he had of his Hyung.

Six years. Or was it seven? His Hyung had left home when he was just entering middle school.

Shouldering a black duffel bag, he had brushed off Seo Jeong-won’s hand clutching at his sleeve, saying he couldn’t take him along. When asked if he would return, his Hyung didn’t answer.

The only thing he said, in a suppressed voice, was, “Study hard.” That was the end of it.

He didn’t know it would be the last time and only cried. If he had known, he would have hugged him at least once.

“Seo Jeong-won?”

Now that he was just twenty-one, it had been seven years.

“I’m Kwon Tae-hee.”

“…Ah.”

“I knew you were young, but you’re really just a kid.”

Despite the slightly rude tone, Seo Jeong-won was speechless, meeting the man he had only spoken to briefly on the phone.

Seo Jeong-won had never met an adult quite like the one before him. Especially in terms of appearance.

He forgot why he was even there, staring blankly at Kwon Tae-hee.

A face that could have been sculpted by the gods, or that the gods had sculpted. Seo Jeong-won, constantly checking his shrinking shoulders, bowed his head towards the man.

“Shall we go?”

Unlike the cool tone and low voice, warm, tawny eyes turned towards Seo Jeong-won.

The curve of his lips, flowing as if drawn, was beautiful. He couldn’t find a more fitting word. The man shone even under the pale hospital lights.

“Cough, cough…”

When Seo Jeong-won burst into a fit of dry coughs, Kwon Tae-hee naturally reached out and gently patted his thin back. Then, as if it were a habit, he made eye contact and opened his mouth softly.

“The reason for the late contact… let’s just say it was adult circumstances.”

“…”

“Until now, I’ve been taking care of him out of a sense of duty, but recently the attending physician said there’s no chance of him waking up.”

Throughout the not-so-short time it took to enter the hospital, ride the elevator, and exit, Kwon Tae-hee gently supported Seo Jeong-won’s back.

Each time he coughed, worried glances and comforting touches followed.

“…Thank you.”

“You seem to have a cold. And your clothes are thin. I’ll give you a ride back when we’re done. It’s quite far, coming all the way here from there.”

He hadn’t said where he came from, but Kwon Tae-hee seemed to already know. Seo Jeong-won glanced out the window as they walked down the hallway. The rain was falling harder.

The weather was cold, and he had spent too much on taxi fare to get to the hospital, so it was difficult to refuse Kwon Tae-hee’s kindness. Seo Jeong-won hesitated for a moment, then mumbled his thanks, adding,

“But there was a bus… that came directly.”

“That’s good. Shall we go in?”

With a soft hiss, the door slid open. The hospital room was quite large and chilly. All sorts of unfamiliar machines were connected to the body of the person lying in the bed.

Half of his face was covered by a respirator, making it difficult to confirm if it was really his Hyung.

Beep, beep, beep. A steady mechanical sound pierced his ears. Kwon Tae-hee strode closer to him. He quickly scanned Seo Gyu-won, as if checking his condition, then reached out to Seo Jeong-won.

Come closer and see. His tone was as indifferent as the gaze he had cast upon the bed. Even though their engagement had been broken off, they must have loved each other to have gone that far.

Just like the day he had announced he would remove his Hyung’s respirator, there wasn’t a trace of sadness in his voice today either.

“Why… are you taking off the respirator? Can’t you keep… maintaining it?”

“There’s no reason why we couldn’t. Though it would cost money.”

“…How much?”

At that question, Kwon Tae-hee closed his mouth and pondered for a moment. His gaze was cautious, as if gauging whether he was asking for the amount or trying to understand his intentions.

He shrugged his shoulders at Seo Jeong-won’s hardened expression. It costs a lot, he said, giving a vague and imprecise answer.

“A lot, a lot.”

“…”

“It’s not that I’m unwilling to spend the money, but it doesn’t seem right to forcibly keep him alive when there’s no hope.”

As Kwon Tae-hee stepped aside, Seo Jeong-won slowly began to move. The distance between the two, who had been standing far apart, gradually narrowed.

Seo Jeong-won, forcing strength into his constantly trembling legs, approached the bedside. Only when he finally reached close proximity could he see Seo Gyu-won’s face clearly.

The man sleeping soundly with the respirator was indeed the Hyung he had missed for years.

Motionless eyelids, short-cropped hair, skin that was pale to the point of being gray—he didn’t seem like a living person.

“If you could just… wait a little longer…”

Tears welled up at the sight of his Hyung, whom he was meeting for the first time as an adult. All the memories they had shared were from a time when he was pitiful, and something hot surged up from his throat.

Seo Jeong-won looked up at Kwon Tae-hee, who was standing beside him, and unconsciously grabbed his sleeve, pleading.

“Please, just a little longer… Could you wait a little longer? He might wake up.”

“Gyu-won will be in pain. And he wouldn’t want to meet his younger brother in this state.”

“If you give us time…”

“It’s been a year since he fell into unconsciousness. There has been enough time.”

Kwon Tae-hee reached out his hand. His touch was as dry as his emotionless voice. The long, neat fingertips held a warmth that contrasted with his cold tone.

“I’ll pay the hospital bills, somehow. If you just maintain the respirator, I’ll do anything…”

“I know it’s hard. I’m sorry you have to meet him like this. But… some things can’t be helped, like now.”

“I can’t… I can’t let my Hyung go like this.”

He didn’t even know how his Hyung lived, yet he was willing to take on hospital bills he didn’t know the extent of, just because they were family.

It felt like a childish thought, as immature as his young age. He didn’t seem stupid, just naive, but perhaps he was too flustered to think straight.

“Jeong-won.”

Seo Jeong-won felt quite desperate at the look in Kwon Tae-hee’s eyes. There was plenty of pity, but that was all.

It seemed he had already decided to remove his Hyung’s respirator before Seo Jeong-won had even arrived. He was anxious. The thought of removing the respirator sounded like killing Seo Gyu-won.

“Let’s go out for a moment.”

Kwon Tae-hee grabbed Seo Jeong-won’s wrist, saying it wasn’t a conversation to have in the hospital room. It was as slender as he had expected. Even through the outer coat, it felt thin.

He felt strangely thirsty at the warm body temperature he felt when the hand that generously wrapped around his wrist touched his exposed skin.

Seo Jeong-won kept looking back at Seo Gyu-won as he crossed the hospital room. Then, struggling to keep up with the increasingly quick pace, he asked.

“Where…”

“There’s a lounge.”

“I don’t care where. Just quickly…”

Kwon Tae-hee lightly disregarded Seo Jeong-won’s opinion. The lounge appeared only after reaching the end of the hallway. Only then did he release the wrist he had been holding.

Kwon Tae-hee, who had entered first, waited with a chair pulled out from the table. He seated Seo Jeong-won, who had approached cautiously, and sat next to him instead of across from him.

“When did you lose contact with your Hyung?”

“As soon as I entered middle school, my Hyung manifested as an Omega and… left home. He was an adult then.”

“Gyu-won has quite a ruthless side. To cut ties with such a young sibling.”