#111
Sometimes, Yoo Seong-woo sitting by the window reading a book appeared surreal. Whenever that happened, Yeon Tae-soo would start to approach him but then stop.
Though they shared the same space, Yoo Seong-woo seemed isolated like a paused frame. Separated from the dazzling outside world, he resembled a statue crafted by a once-in-a-lifetime genius who had poured their entire life force into its creation.
Finding this unbearably painful, Yeon Tae-soo maintained his proximity to avoid screaming or crying. Instead, he moved closer while swallowing the grief that felt like his body was shattering into thousands of pieces.
When Yoo Seong-woo looked up from his book and acknowledged him, only then did he truly feel they occupied the same space.
He reached out and embraced Seong-woo’s shoulders. He buried his nose in the nape of his neck and deeply inhaled his scent. Only after feeling Seong-woo’s body heat with his entire being did he feel reassured. You’re still alive.
Seong-woo’s hand touched Yeon Tae-soo’s arm wrapped tightly around him. His fingertips gently patted, offering comfort.
“Are you ready?”
Today, Tae-soo had special reason to hide his sadness. He nodded and, keeping his upper body straight, extended his hand. Taking Seong-woo’s hand, he helped him up and led him out of the suite.
‘Creating a new microchip isn’t difficult. The question is whether his body will accept a new one.’
The engineer had said Yoo Seong-woo’s body had significantly weakened. Since the microchip was technology he had created and taught his apprentice, making one wasn’t particularly challenging.
‘Isn’t it just a matter of replacing the microchip?’
‘If it were that simple, countless androids would live forever. Humans forget that androids are consumables too. How functional can a body be when it’s housing an improperly made microchip?’
The corroded microchip in Yoo Seong-woo’s body was likely already causing significant strain.
‘But if there’s spare black moonstone, that changes everything.’
The engineer seemed genuinely excited. To her, Yoo Seong-woo’s condition and Yeon Tae-soo’s body appeared to be merely objects of fascination. But that was actually fortunate. Shallow sympathy would have been even less trustworthy.
Clear motivation was enough. And Tae-soo’s own body was stimulating the engineer’s curiosity.
‘If you give me the black moonstone you possess, his chances of survival would increase somewhat.’
‘…How exactly would it increase his chances?’
‘The life force inherent in black moonstone is tremendous. Enough to repair even a heart that’s been housing a corroded microchip.’
The engineer’s eyes gleamed with an indiscernible color.
‘The black moonstone currently in that child’s body isn’t enough. But what if we make a microchip from black moonstone too?’
The gleam in her eyes beneath the wrinkles was so innocent it wasn’t even chilling.
‘Then he might at least live as long as others do.’
‘How can I trust you?’
‘You don’t have a choice, do you?’
The engineer was right. Even if it was difficult to trust her, there was no alternative now.
‘More importantly, you should worry about whether you’ll survive. You’ve had black moonstone in your body since childhood, so we don’t know what kind of seizure might occur if we remove it.’
‘That doesn’t matter.’
It truly didn’t matter.
‘I don’t care what happens to my body as long as you treat the patient properly.’
Despite hating his adoptive father for so long, Tae-soo felt grateful for the first time—grateful for giving him this kind of body.
When they entered another room prepared within the hotel, the engineer was already waiting.
As she helped him change into surgical garments, Yeon Tae-soo clenched his teeth to keep from trembling. Instead, Yoo Seong-woo grasped his hand.
“I’ll be fine.”
“…Seong-woo.”
“So I hope you’ll be fine too.”
Tae-soo wanted to get angry, to ask why he was talking like that before the surgery, why he was speaking as if he was leaving. Seong-woo’s hand in his still held high temperature. Tae-soo thought his body heat was like a pre-heating before ignition. Perhaps he had always lived ready to burn at any moment.
“Whatever the outcome, I will still… love you.”
Tae-soo failed to hide his expression. As he contorted his face to hold back tears, Seong-woo embraced him. Tae-soo stroked his back for a long time.
He wanted to say something. Since this could be the last time, he should say something profound. No, something reassuring.
But in the end, only one phrase emerged.
“I love you.”
Words that overflowed and had to be released took form once spoken. If voices could emit light, Tae-soo believed they would have surely seen it just then.
In his surgical gown, Yoo Seong-woo looked thinner. When he tried to lie down on the bed without showing fear, Tae-soo quickly pulled him close. He wrapped his arms around his waist and met his eyes. Today especially, those clear eyes gazed back, gently piercing into Tae-soo.
“No matter what happens, I’ll be by your side.”
He didn’t tell Yoo Seong-woo that the black moonstone in his body would be transferred to him.
He only swore to stay by his side. That he would remain beside him in whatever form.
The weakened body fell asleep immediately after the anesthetic was administered. Only after confirming that Yoo Seong-woo was asleep did Tae-soo change into surgical garments and lie down on the newly brought bed.
Turning his head while lying down, he could see the sleeping profile. Yoo Seong-woo looked peaceful. Complex graphs showing his biological status floated on a translucent screen suspended in midair. The regular mechanical sounds provided Tae-soo with some reassurance.
“Having regrets?”
The engineer’s voice came to him. She inserted an injection into Tae-soo’s arm.
“I’ll say it again—your life could be in danger if the black moonstone is removed.”
Tae-soo smiled faintly.
“I’ve nearly died many times already.”
Perhaps the reason his life had been unusually tenacious was for this moment. Uncharacteristically sentimental thoughts entered his mind.
He felt a cold sensation rising to his chest. With his gaze still fixed on Yoo Seong-woo, he lost consciousness.
***
A dark blue sky stretched endlessly. Tae-soo recognized this dream. It was identical to one he had while searching for Yoo Seong-woo before.
At that time, Yoo Seong-woo had been completely frozen, just like when his adoptive mother died. Remembering this, Tae-soo couldn’t help but feel tense.
He looked around but couldn’t see Yoo Seong-woo. Only his body floated in the empty space. He couldn’t tell where he was drifting.
As he floated slowly, at some point he spotted a familiar figure in the distance. It was his deceased adoptive mother.
Without having to struggle to approach, his body somehow moved closer. Tae-soo reached out his hand.
Unlike his adoptive father, he had never deeply resented his adoptive mother. Of course, he had felt resentment. He naturally wanted to confront her, ask if she thought he would be happy after she gave him the black moonstone and left. He had also thought she was irresponsible.
But perhaps longing was stronger than resentment. Seeing her figure now, his hand reached out immediately.
Contrary to his expectation that he wouldn’t be able to grasp it, his adoptive mother’s hand was easily caught. The connected hands had sensation. As if it were real.
His adoptive mother said nothing and only smiled at him. It was identical to the smile he had seen when she was alive. The smile he had thought was just an android caretaker’s programmed expression toward their charge.
His adoptive mother opened her mouth. Though no sound was heard, he could tell she was calling his name. When Tae-soo nodded, she smiled again.
Suddenly, his adoptive mother’s figure vanished. Tae-soo touched his chest. The surgery must be happening now—had they successfully removed the black moonstone? Had it been transferred from his heart to Yoo Seong-woo?
His body drifted somewhere again. The stars aligned around him seemed to be watching. The feeling wasn’t unpleasant.
How long had he walked enveloped in starlight? Finally, Yoo Seong-woo appeared before Tae-soo’s eyes. He was in a very distant place, no different from countless stars, a tiny form, but strangely, Tae-soo could recognize him instantly.
As soon as he recognized that the small, brightly shining white dot was Yoo Seong-woo, he stopped floating. Remarkably, he could walk.
Without hesitation, he ran. He ran across the black space toward Yoo Seong-woo. What if he was frozen like that time? Fear suddenly gripped him.
But finally, when he reached him, Tae-soo was relieved. Yoo Seong-woo looked happier than ever before.
Embracing the brightly smiling Seong-woo, Tae-soo recalled the last words he had spoken. His voice, saying he would love him whatever the outcome, echoed like a spell through the muffled silence of the universe.
Tae-soo held him and whispered his answer.
I’m by your side. Seong-woo, I’m by your side.
The universe smiled in his arms.
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
