S-sorry. I’m so sorry—
Crack—! A hand cut through the air and struck Yi-won’s cheek hard.
If you’re going to apologize, do it properly instead of just flapping your mouth. Didn’t anyone teach you that’s how you serve guests?
A laugh so grotesque it made his skin crawl, and a grip he couldn’t shake no matter how hard he tried. The struggle with the man who was undoing his belt and trying to pull down his pants had started then.
The assault that began in the room spilled out into the hallway, then carried on all the way to the back of Shizunami. Yi-won’s fierce resistance only stoked the man’s anger, and in the end he was beaten mercilessly out in the pouring rain.
There was no one who would help Yi-won. Unless the man tired himself out and dropped on his own, there was nothing to be done.
And yet — an unexpected hand had reached Yi-won. A coincidence he would never have dared imagine.
“Thank you so much, sir.”
“Sir, is it.”
Sir, or ma’am. It was the uniform address used for any and all guests. Choi Woo-hyuk echoed it back with a faint, humorless exhale, as if he found it absurd.
“From now on…… I will do my utmost to ensure your every visit is comfortable.”
Yi-won had no room left in him to keep himself composed, and every time he pushed through to the next word, the urge to cry pressed against his throat.
“I’m sorry. Thank you……so much.”
Was it the snot from crying after being hit? He sniffled and wiped at the space below his nose, and something smelled off. A raw, metallic scent spread through the air.
His fingers came away warm and viscous — soaked red with blood. Yi-won wiped it roughly on his hand and stepped back. His bowed head angled even lower, until the back of his neck ached with the strain.
He couldn’t draw this out any longer. The bleeding could wait. The hall had probably grown even busier without him. The thought that the guest might be waiting in the room with a grudge frightened him, but the things that still needed doing caught at his heels. Yi-won had no choice in the matter. Of course, there was nowhere to run and no other way.
“If you could let me go, I still have work I need to finish…….”
“Where.”
“……Shizunami.”
“Not that.”
“Pardon?”
“Show me where.”
Choi Woo-hyuk flicked his cigarette into a puddle and continued.
“I don’t make a habit of saying things twice.”
A warning had settled into the otherwise flat voice. Yi-won’s already thoroughly frightened shoulders jumped slightly.
“Show me.”
Yi-won’s resistance crumbled just as easily. He lifted his head and found Choi Woo-hyuk’s gaze already on him, phone pressed to his ear.
“It’s me. Come around to the back of the building.”
Choi Woo-hyuk’s gaze slid at an angle downward. On Yi-won’s thoroughly wrecked face, between the nose and the lips, he caught the smear of red blood. Perhaps because his face was already wet from the rain despite the umbrella’s cover — it had spread in a way that looked all the more ghastly.
The distance between them closed under a single umbrella. In the middle of a situation that made no sense, Yi-won, not knowing what to do with himself, found himself startled once again.
Han Min-jae came rushing around in one breath and stood before the two of them. Yi-won quickly lowered his head.
“Take him. Tell Doctor Jang it’s on my orders.”
“Understood.”
“You — follow this man.”
Choi Woo-hyuk turned away without hesitation. But before he could even lift his foot, the wet hem of his coat was seized and pulled back with a weight that stopped him. He turned his head and found Yi-won clutching his coat in both hands — hands filthy with mud and blood — desperately.
“…….”
“…….”
He had laid hands on him without permission. Even if Choi Woo-hyuk raised a hand against him the way that man had just done, Yi-won would have had nothing to say for himself. It was a clear act of insolence. A heavy silence poured down over Yi-won’s hands.
“What.”
Where had the courage gone that had reached out to stop someone trying to leave. Yi-won could only bite his lip uselessly and couldn’t push the words out. Should I thank him. Should I decline and say I’m fine. Should I ask him why he helped me. What he wanted to say was clear, but he didn’t know where to start.
“Paying you back for the ashtray you smashed.”
Perhaps he had sensed it. Choi Woo-hyuk answered, and Yi-won’s question was resolved.
“Go on now.”
It was a kindness Yi-won had never felt from an outsider before. Was it because of the sore throat that stung every time he swallowed? The blood still wasn’t stopping, which meant something inside his nose must have been damaged. The tip of his nose ached, and his eyes stung as though grit had blown into them.
“Get that treated. That too.”
That too. A tip of the chin toward the ground — and inside his mud-splattered old sneakers, Yi-won curled his toes.
In the time it took for that, Choi Woo-hyuk was already gone the moment he’d finished speaking. Yi-won couldn’t reach out to stop him again. Perhaps it was because everything around them was so dark. Choi Woo-hyuk’s retreating figure, growing smaller until it disappeared into the building, looked like a silhouette being absorbed into the dark.
All that remained where he had stood was the cigarette stub he had smoked and discarded.
“…….”
The cigarette smoke still mingling with the damp air continued to tease at Yi-won’s senses. In a daze, he fell into step behind Han Min-jae, who was leading him forward.
The facilities on the island, too, were all guest-first. They kept outsiders and island residents completely separated. From pheromone-related consultations to prescribed suppressants — everything was subject to a different standard.
For island residents, basic treatment was the extent of what was available, and even suppressants could only be purchased as standard over-the-counter medications priced at the average rate.
The benches placed here and there, the structures of beautiful forms. The flowers that bloomed when spring came, and the leisure of sitting with a cup of tea while gazing at the gently flowing Eunryu River — even that was meant only for those who came to visit the island.
On such a Cheongun Island, at a clinic where appointments had long since ended for the day — a doctor was already waiting, just for Yi-won, who had been dragged through the mud and trampled on.
For Yi-won, this was something that simply should not have been possible.
“The nosebleed’s stopped so that’s done. The bruising on your face is going to take a good while to fade. The contusions aren’t severe, so as long as you keep the wounds clean and apply the ointment properly, you’ll be fine. Try not to look in the mirror for now if you can help it. You’ll scare yourself with how swollen it is.”
An expressionless face and a mechanical, clipped voice. The dull sound of a first-aid kit lid snapping shut. Yi-won lay in uncomfortable silence across from the blunt doctor. The doctor was already uncomfortable enough — but Han Min-jae being in the examination room with them made it even more so.
And yet, in spite of all of this.
In the middle of all this discomfort and frayed nerves, sleep was pressing in on him. Telling himself it was the glare of the fluorescent light felt too risky — he felt like he might fall asleep the very moment he let his eyelids close.
Is this what it’s like when tension unravels into more tension. Or has my body just hit its limit. Yi-won forced his drooping eyelids to stay open. The moment the appointment was over, he had to go back to Shizunami.
But in his heart he wanted nothing more than to sleep just like this. Through the night, all the way to morning, deeply and cleanly. An oblivious dream wandered through on its own.
The doctor, who had rattled off everything in rapid fire and finished treating the cut on his toe as well, settled back into his seat. His eyes went straight to the chart. His pen scrawled medical shorthand across it in a scratch that no one else could possibly decipher.
Doctor Jang didn’t notice that Yi-won’s mind was growing more and more distant. Yi-won, in turn, was gradually losing track of what he was saying.
“Setting all that aside, the fever is way too high. Do you have the presence of mind to push through? Muscle pain, eye pressure — the dizziness must be pretty severe.”
Impressive willpower. Young age, maybe. Doctor Jang, muttering as if to himself, added:
“How far do you want me to run checks and confirm? Should I go through the whole thing — basic blood work, pheromone-related, the works? What’s the scope? Executive Director Choi.”
“I’ll confirm.”
“If I’d known he was going to put someone to work without giving them time to adjust, I should’ve put up more of a fight before making this trip.”
Doctor Jang grumbled without a shred of restraint. He was an old acquaintance of Choi Woo-hyuk’s, as well as his personal physician. He had been among those who had boarded the boat to Cheongun Island in Choi Woo-hyuk’s wake when he declared he was taking a rest.
He had figured he’d catch the occasional consultation at the clinic on the island while finally enjoying some proper downtime — and the moment he’d stepped foot here, he’d been put to work. And at this late hour, no less, well after the clinic had already wrapped up for the day.
