***
When he opened his eyes, it was a familiar ceiling. Dohui wished he could have stayed trapped in the dream forever. He pulled the blanket up over his face, and as always, a voice came looking for him.
“You’re awake?”
“Hff……”
“You slept for two straight days.”
Ha…… Dohui exhaled the breath lodged in his chest. Two days — exactly as long as he’d wanted to drift, endlessly, inside a dream.
And it still wasn’t enough. The metallic smell, the wet ground, the wind slapping cold against his cheek, the grains of dirt grazing his palm — all of it was vivid.
“……You’re going to kill me too.”
Gong Haejin’s answer was the same as always. But as if he needed to have it confirmed, Dohui asked once more — and Gong Haejin gave the same answer again. No.
Only then did Dohui cry. The dry eyes that had been sealed shut for two days filled with moisture. He curled into himself like a newborn and sobbed.
The blanket lifted slightly. Light came in first, and then the man’s hand. He didn’t have the presence of mind to snatch it back. He didn’t know what he was supposed to do. Or how he was supposed to go on living.
If I go on like this — doing whatever this man wants, taking him in my mouth, taking him from behind, living in this humiliation — will he really let me walk out on my own two feet one day?
No.
His abnormal obsession had long surpassed anything Dohui could bear.
“Look at me.”
Dohui squeezed his eyes shut. He wanted to be alone. Thoughts surfacing without order were paralyzing what was left of his reason.
“I said look at me.”
Gong Haejin pulled the hunched shoulders down and turned Dohui onto his back. Dohui sluggishly pushed his eyelids open. He blinked several times, pushing back the moisture that had flooded his eyes.
Gong Haejin wiped the tears running from the corners of his eyes with his thumb. Parched lips parted slightly. He waited patiently for the moment they pulled apart with a dry, cracked sound.
On the back of his hand, laid quietly over his chest, was a piece of gauze. He had been asleep for two full days — so Professor Kwon had been called to put him on an IV drip.
Gong Haejin swallowed a sigh at the sight of Dohui, now visibly more gaunt even down to his knuckles.
He took Dohui’s hand and peeled back the tape in one long strip.
“Wh…… who are you?”
“…….”
“I, I thought you were the Director…… who are you, who on earth are you——!”
No! Stop! Dohui screamed until his head felt like it might split open. He tore at his own hair and tried to crawl away with what little strength remained, and tumbled off the bed.
Thud — at the small sound, Gong Haejin rose from his seat.
Something was wrong with Dohui.
“I, I don’t know…… your, your voice, the voice sounded like the Director…… no. This is a dream, right? It’s a dream, isn’t it? Tell me it is.”
Pleading to be told the truth, Dohui grabbed at his ankle. Something’s wrong with my eyes…… That was what he said.
***
Dohui had lost every face in the world.
***
“It’s prosopagnosia. More commonly known as face blindness.”
The doctor, Kwon Chano, adjusted his glasses.
Dohui’s symptoms had begun a short while ago, when Gong Haejin had layered yet another shock on top of everything else. Already mentally unstable, Dohui had not been able to withstand what he had witnessed. And this was the result. Prosopagnosia.
“Sudden shock and prolonged stress appear to be the cause. At this point, there is nothing more I can do.”
Gong Haejin responded with indifference.
“He can’t recognize my face.”
A haze of cigarette smoke seeped out from between parted lips.
“That’s correct. It’s not just faces seen in person — photographs are the same. He can distinguish clothing, scent, and hairstyle, but not facial features.”
Hmm. Gong Haejin let out a low sound in his throat. Kwon Chano looked at that beautiful, unreadable face and waited for a response.
He had received a call that morning saying Im Dohui was behaving strangely, and had come quickly. He’d left the moment he got the call, but it still took a fair amount of time. Around thirty minutes, roughly.
When he arrived at Gong Haejin’s home, Im Dohui had been screaming with his hands clenched in his own hair, voice completely gone. Gong Haejin had been standing at a distance, as if detached from the chaos entirely. As if the terrible screaming that rattled the eardrums didn’t reach him at all.
He’d given a small nod of his head — as if to say do something about it. Kwon Chano had approached Dohui carefully and introduced himself. The white coat he had deliberately worn helped.
Seeing him, Dohui had sobbed and said he couldn’t recognize anyone. That he couldn’t remember. That he couldn’t picture his mother’s face or his father’s. That everything had gone blurry. He pounded at his own chest, crying how can this be happening.
And whenever Gong Haejin tried to come even slightly closer, Dohui reacted as if he were looking at a monster and hid. He crawled on all fours and pressed himself against the side of the bed with his knees pulled to his chest, or else disappeared behind the curtains entirely. The pair of white toes peeking out from the bottom of the curtains had left Kwon Chano at a loss.
Having already been briefed on part of Dohui’s condition beforehand, Kwon Chano managed the explanation without too much difficulty. And then he added words meant to reassure Dohui — the kind, careless reassurance that it would get better soon.
Whether it helped, Dohui’s erratic behavior barely settled. It wasn’t until he had held down that thin arm and administered a sedative that things were finally under control.
Cold sweat spread across Kwon Chano’s back at the sight of Gong Haejin, who sat in silence still smoking, offering nothing. He added more, addressing Gong Haejin as he tapped ash from his cigarette at steady intervals.
“Try wearing the same clothes consistently. That way he’ll be able to recognize you.”
“…….”
“I’m not a psychiatrist, so there is nothing more I can do to help Im Dohui. I strongly recommend visiting a specialist hospital for an accurate diagnosis.”
Gong Haejin leaned back against the sofa. He exhaled a long stream of smoke toward the ceiling.
“Is that necessary.”
“……Pardon?”
Dark pupils slid over. Kwon Chano stepped back without thinking.
“Jumpy.”
A faint, clipped curse followed under his breath. It wasn’t directed at Kwon Chano — just an expression of how thoroughly irritating this whole situation was.
Gong Haejin rose from the sofa. A full head taller than Kwon Chano, he walked over unhurriedly and tapped him on the shoulder. Even having that done to him by someone considerably younger, Kwon Chano could only manage an awkward smile. The corners of his mouth rose stiffly, a small twitch running through them.
“Go on for now. Come by again tomorrow.”
“……If I may be so bold——”
“Let’s not.”
Gong Haejin tapped the tip of his finger against his shoulder.
“Why say something bold. What a waste of time.”
Kwon Chano’s toes went numb. Gong Haejin turned away cleanly and walked into the room where Dohui was sleeping. He had moved Dohui into his own room rather than the one Dohui usually used. Kwon Chano had wanted to advise against abrupt changes in environment — but this was a man who wouldn’t listen anyway.
Kwon Chano kneaded the shoulder that had been tapped. Composing his expression was not easy.
‘You can’t just turn a blind eye to criminal activity. You know you have a duty to report, don’t you? Please don’t just leave me here like this…… please, help me.’
Kwon Chano, recalling Dohui, twisted his lips. A short movement, left to right, and then he shrugged.
It wasn’t his problem. Whatever had happened and however Dohui had ended up here, whether Gong Haejin used him or killed him — it was none of his concern. He was in no position to interfere. And if he meddled for nothing and the fire turned back on him, what then. His job was to examine Dohui as instructed, and in return he took what he was given and left.
Three pills per visit. For a house call, it was a generous arrangement. Kwon Chano quickly gathered the medication envelope from the table. He had to get back for regular clinic hours.
Dohui, moved into Gong Haejin’s room, was sleeping with a perfectly peaceful expression. Even at the buzz of a vibrating phone, Dohui didn’t so much as twitch a brow — thanks to the sedative.
Gong Haejin looked out at the view beyond the window. Buildings of similar appearance lined up in rows, every one of them carrying an air of quiet luxury. It was a noticeably low-noise area.
“Yeah.”
— It’s been handled cleanly.
“Good.”
— And a departure schedule has been confirmed for the one named Jinho.
“Verify it properly and bring him in right away.”
The call, nothing but brief business exchanged, ended quickly. Gong Haejin pulled the necktie from his throat with a slightly rough hand.
He went into the bathroom and stood under a cold stream of water. A quiet, involuntary laugh kept slipping out. So fragile. Prosopagnosia. Can’t even recognize who he is.
Gong Haejin pushed his wet hair back. Whether Dohui’s condition would be temporary or last a long time — no one could say for certain. Psychiatric treatment might help him recover faster.
Dohui lay still, breathing evenly and at ease. Gong Haejin looked down at the wrist, visibly thinner than when he first saw him. The ferocity he’d had — screaming about why Gong Haejin was lying for the people who had sold him out — where had it gone.
The item Dohui had been carrying and the one the driver had hidden had both been recovered, so the drugs were set to be distributed without further issue. No problems remained.
Pyo Mingyu had offered a concern-laced word of advice — that Dohui needed to be eliminated as well.
‘Now that the item has been recovered, wouldn’t it be cleaner to kill him and tie up the loose ends? He knows our faces, our information — I don’t think we can afford to let him walk away alive.’
