10
Munyeong’s fears had finally come true.
Ever since dinner, Haejeong’s condition had been deteriorating. His face had gone pale, and he kept pressing a hand to his chest, stifling pained sounds.
Munyeong had asked him several times whether he was alright, but Haejeong had only looked down at him in silence before murmuring that he was fine and disappearing into his bedroom.
There was something sulky about the way he’d left. Munyeong stood there with a troubled expression, gazing quietly at the closed bedroom door. He seems like he’s in pain…. He wasn’t sure what to do with someone who clearly didn’t want to show weakness, watching him slip away like that, and he turned it over briefly in his mind.
Munyeong went into his own bedroom and unzipped his modest little suitcase. Inside were a few sets of his own clothes, the expensive outfits Haejeong had bought for him to wear, everyday essentials, and a hefty pile of the medications Haejeong had once gotten for him when he’d said he was sick. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to throw them out. Munyeong looked through a few of the boxes and picked out the ones that matched the symptoms. Then he gathered the medicine and a glass of water and walked over to knock softly on Haejeong’s bedroom door.
“…Um…. Can I come in?”
He knocked first and asked carefully, but there was no response. He worried that barging in uninvited might only invite trouble, but with the intention of just handing over the medicine and leaving, he opened the door — very, very slowly.
The first thing he saw was how vast the room was. He’d thought his own bedroom was more than spacious enough, but it was nothing compared to this. Yet somehow it didn’t feel like a place where someone truly lived. Maybe because it was too large. Or maybe because its owner had never managed to feel at home here.
Munyeong found himself suddenly struck by how lonely Haejeong looked — lying alone on that bed, quietly suffering. He had such a fine house, a fine car, a fine career. He was someone extraordinary in every sense. And yet, seeing him curled up in that enormous space, Munyeong felt a pang of something tender and sad. He’d said he spent years living abroad alone. When he was sick overseas, what did he do then? Was he lying alone like this back then, too?
Munyeong softened his footsteps, treading carefully. He made his way toward the nightstand where the lamp was on and quietly assessed Haejeong’s condition. His face, slick with cold sweat, looked even paler in the reflection of the lamplight. Munyeong furrowed his brow and gently dabbed at the sweat with a dry towel. He had told himself to keep his distance, to draw a clear line — but he couldn’t bring himself to ignore someone who was ill. Haejeong had carried him on his back and run with him, after all. He didn’t want to be the kind of shameless person who turned a blind eye after that.
“……What… the hell.”
Whether the presence had roused him from a fitful sleep, Haejeong’s voice came out hoarse and cracked. It seemed like he’d forced himself to sleep just to escape the pain.
“I brought medicine.”
Munyeong said calmly.
“…Can you sit up for a second?”
He thought Haejeong should at least take something before resting, so he suggested it carefully. Haejeong’s bleary eyes scanned Munyeong slowly. Then, without a word of complaint, he gradually pulled himself upright.
“Here.”
Once Haejeong had his back against the headboard, Munyeong popped the pills out of the small square packet and handed them directly to him. Haejeong looked down at them with a blank expression, then, as before, accepted them without resistance. Earlier he’d seemed sulky, but now — whether from exhaustion or some shift in mood — he was being unexpectedly compliant.
“Drink some water, too.”
Munyeong handed him the glass as he swallowed the pills, and Haejeong brought it to his lips and drank from it obediently, like a child. Watching him take his medicine so quietly, Munyeong finally let out a small, quiet breath of relief.
“…The medicine.”
“…….”
“Where did you get it.”
Haejeong glanced at the medicine box and asked flatly.
“…Ah….”
Munyeong turned the box over in his hands — the one labeled good for stomachaches and indigestion — and hesitated for a moment.
“…You bought it for me.”
At the quiet answer, the other man’s eyebrow rose in surprise.
“You bought me a whole box of medicine. Said I was sick.”
At the more detailed explanation, something seemed to click for Haejeong. His eyes shifted around, briefly startled.
“…Shit, I told him not to say anything.”
When he had handed it to Shin Juho, Haejeong had made him promise — over and over — not to say a word. He’d even slipped him money, and yet it seemed the man had gone running off to spill everything.
“…If the medicine doesn’t help, maybe it’d be better to go to a hospital.”
Munyeong continued, keeping his tone measured. Haejeong fixed him with a thoroughly exhausted look. Then he answered, dismissive as ever.
“Don’t bother. It’s not that serious.”
He waved a hand as if the very idea of going to a hospital over a little indigestion was laughable.
“…Still….”
“…I’m fine.”
“…….”
“Who do you think you are, worrying about me.”
The guy who was collapsed in a hospital just yesterday. He wanted to say it — that Munyeong ought to look after his own body first — but Haejeong swallowed the words and moved to sink back down into the bed. Then he paused, something seeming to come to him all at once, and looked back at Munyeong.
“…That hand.”
“…….”
“Are you really not going to tell me what happened to it?”
The image of it trembling, unsteady — it had lodged itself in Haejeong’s mind and refused to leave. He wanted to know everything: when it had happened, why it had happened, why it had never been properly treated. But Munyeong clearly didn’t want him to know. So he’d been pretending not to notice — even as the urge to ask kept rising in him.
“……If you don’t want to say, forget it.”
“…….”
“I can just find out on my own.”
Reading the hesitation in Munyeong’s reaction, Haejeong moved to roll back over. At that moment, Munyeong’s careful voice came through.
“And you…?”
The out-of-nowhere question made Haejeong’s eyebrow twitch.
“In America… were you doing alright…?”
The question had surfaced before he could think. Seeing him lying there so still and alone in this vast house had made him wonder — was it like this for him over there, too? All by himself? After what had happened all those years ago — had he been living like this, alone, ever since?
“…You suddenly stopped coming to school…. I just… found myself wondering….”
The truth was, Munyeong had so many questions he’d been swallowing for years. How Haejeong had managed alone in America, whether he’d been alright, whether anything had gone wrong. But the one he’d wondered about most was how Haejeong had lived after what happened when they were young. Whether he was okay after going through something like that. Whether he had managed to move past it. He’d wondered, sometimes. But there was no way to know. After everything, Haejeong had stopped coming to school, and Munyeong had never been able to see him again.
“…You’re only curious about that now?”
He had never once pried into the past or shown interest in his personal life, so Haejeong asked in return, sounding genuinely taken aback. Munyeong gave an awkward smile and said nothing, only watching him quietly. Haejeong shifted into a more settled position and began, lightly:
“…There was an incident.”
He said it looking somewhere else entirely, as if he were talking about a stranger.
“Oh…….”
Munyeong already knew, but pretending otherwise was too difficult, so he too looked away and let out only a small, quiet sound.
Haejeong scratched the back of his neck, seeming almost embarrassed to be talking about himself, and added vaguely:
“Almost got kidnapped. Didn’t die, though, so.”
“…….”
“My father found out and wouldn’t let me go to school anymore. He’d never been happy about me going to that school in the first place.”
Haejeong recounted it all with detached composure, as though reading from a report. Munyeong already knew about the kidnapping well enough, so he simply listened in silence.
“What’s with you.”
“……Huh?”
“You don’t seem very surprised.”
“…N-no, I am…. I was surprised.”
He gave Munyeong a sidelong look, as if the lack of reaction were peculiar. Most people would have gasped, gone wide-eyed, been visibly shaken. As Haejeong stared at him with suspicion, Munyeong smiled awkwardly and offered something that sounded like an excuse — but even as he did, the memory of it made his chest tighten all over again. Thinking about how close Haejeong had come to being dragged away somewhere, Munyeong’s expression clouded almost instantly, and he murmured quietly under his breath.
