A lemon-yellow sky floated with drifting scraps of pink cloud. A gentle breeze grazed the tips of his hair, and the scent of wildflowers tickled his nose.
Seowoo twitched his inexplicably stinging nose and blinked. His mind, which had been piled high with worries, was now as blank and peaceful as a clean sheet of paper. Anyone would feel the same, lying in the middle of a quiet, unhurried meadow.
“Appa.”
“……Hm?”
“Appa, try to come to your senses.”
“Dano?”
A sweet-and-sour scent pierced his nose and shattered the peaceful atmosphere in an instant. He rubbed open his bleary eyes and turned his head toward the sound — and there, kneeling on the ground, was an enormous peach. It had definitely called him Appa, and the voice was unmistakably Dano’s.
“……”
Seowoo was briefly at a loss for words.
The sweetness that made his mouth water, and the soft fuzz covering the skin — both were enough to stir his appetite. And the flesh looked so plump and full. Though, admittedly, judging the size of the pit inside a peach the size of a person wasn’t really possible.
It looks delicious.
Seowoo had no awareness that any of this was extremely strange. He was entirely captivated by how adorable and delicious the peach right in front of him looked.
“Don’t press on it. It’ll leave a mark on my face.”
“Oh, really? Sorry.”
He stroked what he assumed was its cheek, and the peach drew back a full hand’s width with a serious expression. He couldn’t see it, but somehow he felt it.
“Appa.”
“What?”
“Please don’t take this the wrong way and just listen.”
“……?”
“I’d like you to take better care of yourself. I know it’s your body and your choice, but…… it matters to me too.”
Looking at the earnest peach, Seowoo suddenly understood. He was dreaming right now — and he was dreaming Dano’s premonition dream again.
The first time he’d had this dream, he’d said exactly this:
‘Hey, why are you calling me Appa so creepily? I haven’t even had a proper relationship yet.’
Remembering the bewilderment he’d felt back then made Seowoo laugh. And then, strangely, a wave of tenderness followed. Dreams usually scattered like foam the moment you opened your eyes, but with Dano’s premonition dream, even the emotions he’d felt inside it were still vivid. That must be why he was having the same dream again.
Seowoo reached his arms out toward the peach.
“Come here. Let Appa hold you.”
The peach approached him with a remarkably grave expression. He couldn’t see its face, but somehow that was the feeling he got. At any rate, the solemn little peach stretched out its arms and promptly nestled itself snugly into Seowoo’s embrace.
It was clearly a fruit, yet unbelievably warm and soft. A fullness spread through his chest, and his throat tightened with an unexpected surge of emotion.
Just as Seowoo was caught off guard by his own unfamiliar feelings, the peach pressed close and whispered, carrying that sweet scent with it.
“When Appa hurts, it makes me upset. I feel sad. I’ll hurt too.”
“……Even if it’s a dream, don’t say things like that.”
“I don’t want to. I’m gonna cry.”
The inside of his arms felt like it was growing damp, and Seowoo tried to look at the peach’s face again. He pried the little body from where it had buried itself against his chest and cupped its chin in both hands, tilting it up.
And the moment he saw that face, he froze.
“……Hyeon?”
The peach was gone without a trace, and in its place, a pair of eyes deep and dark as a well at dawn looked up at him. Beneath the sharp, elongated outer corners of those eyes — a pale cheek with a clear glow, a straight nose bridge, a distinct philtrum, and below it, red lips. A face like a perfect sculpture, where curve and color came together in breathtaking harmony, was nestled in Seowoo’s arms.
Beautiful was not a sufficient word. The face was cold and still, as though the darkness of the night sky had borrowed a human form to descend — and Seowoo caught a sharp, startled breath.
“Why are you here……”
The moment he barely managed to part his lips and ask, it hit him all at once. This man wasn’t him. He looked startlingly similar, but his lines felt a little softer, a little gentler. And now that he looked, the face was even smiling up at him as though it adored him.
I’ve finally lost my mind. No matter how starved I am, having a dream like this.
“Father.”
“Father……?”
Just as he was beginning to doubt even his own taste —
“Please be careful.”
Hyeon’s voice bored into his ear. And then the ground beneath his feet dropped away entirely, and the sensation of falling washed over his whole body.
“Haah——!”
The breath that had slipped into his ear was so startlingly clear that Seowoo clawed at his ear and jolted upright. His mouth felt wet and sticky at the corners, and the light around him was blindingly bright. He wiped away the drool and blinked his gritty eyes — and that was when he spotted the IV line attached to the back of his hand.
“What is all…… this, what’s happening……”
He looked around frantically, and at the same time, his senses slowly began to return. The stark white hospital ceiling in front of him, the drip — he turned it all over in his mind one by one: the nighttime kiss, and the absurd dream just before waking. Only then did Seowoo piece together where he was. The one thing he couldn’t recall at all was the process — it seemed he’d been brought by ambulance to a hospital fairly far from home, but that stretch was a complete blank.
What lingered most vividly in his foggy head wasn’t the kiss — it was the peach that had turned into Hyeon. Seowoo laughed, hollow and flat. Is that the image of Hyeon I’ve been carrying around in my subconscious.
“Oh good, you’re finally back. Even got a laugh in.”
He looked down at the familiar voice and found a dark, hulking figure scrunched into a small chair. Donghyeok unfolded his arms and pushed himself up — and tumbled straight off the chair onto the floor.
“What time is it?”
“Almost 2 a.m.”
“Where’s Dano?”
“At your place. Mom’s with him.”
“Ah……”
“He cried a bit, but she still got him to bed on time, apparently. Don’t worry, she’s a pro.”
“Yeah.”
One look at Donghyeok’s exhausted face made it obvious he’d stayed by Seowoo’s side throughout the entire emergency room visit. Hyeon had been the one to call the ambulance — how Donghyeok had ended up in this chair instead, Seowoo had no idea.
Donghyeok shot to his feet and worked out the stiffness in his body, then looked Seowoo up and down and let out a sigh that could have sunk the floor.
“When Mom called me I nearly had a heart attack. What happened? Your blood work came back saying you’d been taking way too many suppressants.”
“They did a blood test too?”
“Hah……”
Donghyeok pressed a hand to his forehead, crossed himself, and bowed his head.
“Thank you for keeping him alive.”
“Come on…… people don’t die that easily.”
Donghyeok stared down at Seowoo with the flat, dead eyes of a dried fish.
“I just aged five years in the blink of an eye, so you can start calling me hyung now.”
“……Hyung.”
Just as Donghyeok was about to snap back at that, a doctor with fatigue carved into every line of his face approached the bed.
“You’re looking better now. How are you feeling? Do you remember what happened this evening?”
“Yes, right now I feel completely fine.”
“Any nausea or dizziness?”
“That’s fine too.”
Seowoo answered calmly as he watched the doctor’s face. He was quietly dreading the possibility of being told to stay admitted, and the utterly serious expression on the doctor’s face as he looked over the chart wasn’t making that any easier. The doctor pushed his brow up and shot a look that clearly said there’s something I need to tell you, and Seowoo shrank a little.
“I really am fine now, doctor.”
At the plaintive tone, the doctor behind his glasses suppressed a small laugh.
“Your chart says otherwise. Technically, the right call would be to admit you for observation…… but for now, let’s at least get you scheduled for an outpatient appointment. There aren’t any available rooms at the moment.”
“I have a hospital I go to near my home — would it be alright if I went there instead? This place is so far……”
“Hey, quit messing around and listen to the doctor. Shouldn’t you be going to a bigger hospital?”
Even with Donghyeok frowning at him, Seowoo only chewed on his lip with a strained expression. Fitting regular visits to a far-off hospital into an already packed daily routine was a headache he didn’t want to have. On top of that — honestly, he’d already tried every treatment and medication there was, and whatever tests they ran here, the results would be the same. That much weighed on him too.
The answer, in the end, came down to pheromones. And the cause of today’s collapse was almost certainly pheromones as well — which meant that unless Seowoo changed his mind about treatment, there probably wasn’t much to be done.
The doctor reviewing the chart didn’t seem unaware of that either. He pressed the end of his pen against his temple, thought it over, and with a small sigh, decided to let Seowoo go for now.
When the IV bag ran dry and a nurse pulled out the needle, Seowoo immediately swung his legs off the bed. It felt almost unreal that he’d ever passed out. Out of habit he patted himself down — wallet, phone, nothing. He had nothing on him at all. Only then did he remember Hyeon digging through his pocket and taking out his phone.
Donghyeok, reading the glance Seowoo cast toward the administrative desk, poked him in the side and said:
“Hyeon took care of everything before he left.”
“What?”
“He said to call if you need anything else after you wake up.”
“……Why would he do that?”
“That, I don’t know either.”
Seowoo furrowed his brow. Donghyeok shrugged.
After picking up his prescription and climbing into Donghyeok’s car, Seowoo checked the time as they left the hospital — 3 a.m. Thinking of Dano asleep without him made his heart immediately clench with urgency. In contrast to Seowoo’s restlessness, the wet night road scattered with fallen petals was utterly hushed and still. The kiss from the night before had become something only the two of them knew — as if the rest of the world had no idea it had ever happened.
