“Dano.”
Seowoo gazed quietly down at the sleeping child’s face. It was just past 8 in the morning, and the rain from the night before had left the sky overcast — the room was dim. Since coming back from the hospital, he had slept lightly at Dano’s side, waiting for morning.
He pressed his lips to the soft, downy cheek and kissed it. The sweet warmth of a baby’s breath flowing from that small, button nose pulled his hazy mind back into focus. Seowoo lifted Dano’s tiny arm and draped it around his own neck, and letting that warmth settle over him, he gathered his scattered thoughts. It struck him again, freshly — Dano’s side was his reality.
“Appa.”
“……Dano, you’re awake? Did Appa wake you?”
He was the kind of child who could sleep through anything — you could carry him off without him stirring — so hearing him wake up and call out first was a surprise. Seowoo lifted his head, and there it was: a glimmer of tears in those jet-black, go-stone eyes.
“Why did Appa ko again.”
Why did Appa pass out again, he probably meant.
“Dano, were you worried about Appa? You’re such a good boy.”
Seowoo scrunched his nose with guilt, and Dano’s brow flushed red as his eyes brimmed over. Seowoo gathered the small body up and held him close. Hnggg — the child let out a tiny burst of crying, and as the little sniffles followed one after another, Seowoo’s own eyes stung with tears.
“Our good baby. Dano was worrying about Appa even when he was still in Appa’s tummy.”
“Me?”
“Mm-hm.”
“Weally?”
“Really.”
It wasn’t something he’d made up to console a crying child.
Even in the new place he’d come to with the intention of leaving his old life behind and starting over, Seowoo had spent a long time unable to find his footing — neglecting himself entirely. He’d been so bad that he was replacing meals with alcohol, which had earned him a beating from Donghyeok. What snapped him back to his senses was a single line from Dano, delivered in a dream.
‘Please watch what you eat. I know it’s your body and your choice, but…… my life is on the line here, so I’m saying this.’
Of course, it hadn’t been Dano as he looked now — it had been a giant peach that said it. The fact that the dream had returned while he lay unconscious was probably because his heart had been just as unsteady then as it was back at that time.
A peach the size of a person had appeared, wrapped its arms around him, and scolded him to take care of himself — and then it turned into Hyeon’s face. That was, without a doubt, the most astounding and vivid dream of Seowoo’s life, and it would remain so until he died. He had found out the very next day that the dream had been a premonition dream, and the fact that he had not been able to laugh about it at the time was a secret he would take to his grave — Dano would never know.
“Dano, should we stop crying and take a bath with Appa?”
Dano nodded so vigorously that tears and snot flew in every direction and his hair fluttered wildly. Seowoo had suggested the morning bath because, patting the child’s back and looking back at the night before, he’d suddenly become aware of how grimy he felt — and the enthusiasm was a relief.
He knew Donghyeok’s mother had taken care of everything: Dano’s dinner, his bath, all of it. Soothing a crying child was no easy task, and he made a mental note to buy her a proper thank-you gift. Having someone so capable of looking after both him and Dano right there beside him was something he was genuinely grateful for. And deeply sorry about, too……
The thought was cut off the moment Seowoo opened the bedroom door with Dano in his arms.
It was because of the large silhouette of a man sitting squarely on the living room sofa. Seowoo stood there blinking, unable to quite believe that Hyeon had spent the night in his living room and was now greeting the morning here — and as if to prove it, Hyeon stood and walked toward him.
“Are you feeling alright?”
“Wh— when did…… no, more importantly — did you, wait, did you wait here all night?”
“I slept. I just woke up to the sound of the baby crying a moment ago, and since it seemed like you were up too, I waited out here instead of going in.”
“You slept on the sofa?”
Following Seowoo’s gaze, Hyeon glanced briefly back at the small two-seater sofa and shrugged. There wasn’t so much as a cushion or a blanket on it.
“You went to the hospital and came back, but…… I was worried. I was shaken too, since it happened while you were with me. I thought you might need someone keeping an eye on you.”
“……”
“You’d turned down the doctor’s suggestion, apparently. A friend said he was worried.”
“Donghyeok.”
“That’s right. According to that friend of yours, you’re quite stubborn. Said you don’t think about anything except the baby.”
He looked a little tired — Hyeon, too, seemed to have been thrown by the events of the night. Seowoo lowered his head apologetically.
“I’ve caused you trouble again. Thank you for covering the hospital bill as well.”
“How are you feeling now? If you’re still dizzy or——”
Hyeon suddenly stepped forward, closing the distance until barely half a step remained between them. Seowoo’s eyes went wide seeing their toes nearly touching. On reflex he moved to step back out of habit, but a large hand caught his back. The moment he felt the warmth of that palm, a jolt ran up from his lower back. A ripple of goosebumps followed immediately after, rushing from his spine all the way up to the back of his head.
“I— I’m fine!”
“Go— away—!”
Two urgent voices burst out at the same time. Before either adult could stop him, Dano shot out his arm and shoved Hyeon’s chest. His arm apparently wasn’t enough, so he kicked out too — and his outstretched big toe landed squarely in Hyeon’s solar plexus.
“……”
“……”
The baby scrunched up his round eyes until they went square and huffed with fury. The arch of his light brows shot steeply upward. Even Seowoo had never seen Dano this angry before, and he had no idea how to react.
“Go— A— WAY—!”
While both adults stood there blinking, the fierce voice erupted a second time. Hyeon startled and reflexively pulled his hands back, stepping away from them. Dano, who had been glaring at him with every muscle in his body tensed, buried his face in Seowoo’s chest and finally burst into full, heaving sobs.
“Waaaaaaah!”
Seowoo hugged him tightly in alarm, and the crying grew more wretched. Tears poured out in rapid streams, soaking his shoulder through in seconds. Hyeon was standing there wearing an expression Seowoo had never seen on him before, but right now Seowoo had no room to tend to how he was feeling. He nodded a quick goodbye and retreated into the bedroom, gathering the trembling Dano against him.
***
The child refused to stop crying easily, and Seowoo broke out in a cold sweat holding him. Crying this desperately — gasping as though the breath wouldn’t come — was something he hadn’t seen since Dano was a newborn. Knowing how much prolonged crying wore a child out only made the helplessness worse.
“Dano, let’s stop now. Appa’s sorry.”
He had a feeling he understood why Dano was crying, and that made it worse. Seeing the person who was his entire universe collapse right in front of him — twice — the shock Dano must have felt made Seowoo realize just how foolish it had been to think he could raise a child while quietly enduring his illness.
He shouldn’t have taken that fear lightly. Even he himself still hadn’t forgotten the shock of losing his mother — and that had happened at an age far older than Dano was now.
Dano’s hostile reaction to Hyeon was almost certainly his own way of connecting the events. The worry and heartache he’d stored up all night had burst out all at once, and the anguish on that small face was more than Seowoo could bear. This was the last kind of feeling he ever wanted Dano to know.
“Dano was so scared, wasn’t he. Appa won’t…… Appa will never show you that again. He’ll try. He promises.”
Seowoo held the child close and fumbled around for his phone. He could feel Hyeon’s presence standing outside the bedroom door, unmoving. He must have been quite shaken himself.
***
[Take Hyeon out for breakfast. Dano is crying really hard.]
Donghyeok: [Got it]
Donghyeok arrived at the house thirty minutes after receiving Seowoo’s SOS. He lived close enough that he only had to cross a single crosswalk — Seowoo was about to wonder why it had taken so long — and then Donghyeok walked in with a doctor tucked under his arm.
“Good morning! Seowoo, how are you feeling? Did you get any sleep? I heard about last night on the way over.”
“Yes, hyung. I was going to come to your clinic…… thank you for making the trip.”
“I was on my way to work anyway. Why does our Dano look so puffy?”
“He’s been crying since this morning.”
“Worried about Appa, weren’t you, little one!”
He was the director of the only specialty clinic for presentation-related conditions in the entire area — a rare and valuable resource — and Donghyeok had dragged him here like a convenient younger sibling by exploiting the fact that they were relatives. The man was even twelve years Seowoo’s senior. It was the clinic Seowoo had been going to since before Dano was born, so he had been planning to visit anyway — but Donghyeok, perpetually anxious, had hauled him here first. The apology was Seowoo’s alone to carry, and his head bowed instinctively.
With two more adults now filling the living room, the density of the small house rose noticeably. The doctor was also an alpha, and Seowoo found himself needlessly keeping an eye on Hyeon’s reaction. It felt like piling one more thing onto someone already in a foul mood — but the glimpse he caught of Hyeon’s expression gave nothing away.
“No fever or other symptoms after you got home last night?”
“No.”
“Looking at you now you seem fine, but still — stop by the clinic later. I want to take a proper look at you, alright?”
“Understood. I’ll get Dano ready and come by together.”
“Good. Alright, enough about Appa then. Dano, come here — let Uncle hold you.”
Dano, who had been sitting in Seowoo’s arms watching the adults quietly, went willingly into the doctor’s arms. He pressed his cheek snugly against the man’s shoulder and began to suck contentedly on his thumb.
