The feel of the blade in my hand, the trembling breath brushing against my ear, that desperate voice.
I gasped at the memory flashing through my mind and opened my eyes.
“……!”
My chest rose and fell in rough pants as I looked around.
I couldn’t even remember when I’d lost consciousness, and for a moment, I had no idea why I was in what looked like a hospital room.
“You’re safe.”
A warm hand gently closed around mine.
“You’re in a safe place now.”
I looked down at the pale, large hand covering the back of mine, then slowly lifted my gaze. Yeo Wonjin was staring at me with a worried expression.
…Yeo Wonjin?
Still dazed, I stared at him as the last memory gradually returned.
……
It seemed I’d been startled by a misunderstanding that something had happened to Min Yugeon.
I parted my lips to say something to Yeo Wonjin but closed them again. My throat was so dry that no sound came out.
“Would you like some water?”
Noticing the state of my voice, Yeo Wonjin asked gently. I silently nodded. He filled a glass and handed it to me while I slowly pushed myself upright.
As I drank the water in small sips, the thirst subsided and my mind cleared significantly. I turned my head, cleared my throat a few times, then finally spoke.
“Thank you for helping me. But… why are you here, Captain?”
It was already puzzling enough that he’d appeared out of nowhere to help me, but the fact that he was still here at my side was even more bewildering.
Watching my reaction, Yeo Wonjin gave a faint, bitter smile.
“Incidents like this are rare on the ship. In these cases, I receive a direct report and sometimes check the scene myself.”
“Ah.”
“And it was under my orders that the Security Force restricted your movement. We don’t know who else might be targeting you.”
“…….”
“I’m sorry if it startled you.”
I shook my head at Yeo Wonjin, who looked at me with his eyebrows drawn together. There was no need for him to apologize for something done out of concern for my safety.
“No, thank you for being so considerate.”
Relieved, Yeo Wonjin took the empty glass from me. I quietly watched his flawless profile.
Considering how the Security Force stopped me just as I was about to rush off to see Min Yugeon after giving my statement, it seemed they’d already been instructed by Yeo Wonjin not to let me leave the room. But if the report about the suspects still being at large came after I’d spoken, why did he think I might be in further danger?
“Researcher.”
Yeo Wonjin turned to me with a serious expression.
“I was told the hospital needs to monitor your condition, since it’s unclear what aftereffects there may be. Please, just rest for now and don’t think about anything.”
I closed my mouth and lowered my gaze. I’d have to ask how long for now meant, at least approximately, but I couldn’t afford to stay too long. Cat and Lee Shin were probably waiting for me.
And then—
“The one who did this to you.”
Yeo Wonjin carefully took my hand.
I looked up to find his face devoid of its usual softness.
“I’ll make sure they’re caught.”
There was a chilling resolve in those pale eyes.
***
It wasn’t until Min Yugeon was transferred from the intensive care unit to a regular room that I was finally allowed to visit.
“……”
Standing beside him, I looked down at his face, eyes closed. If not for the machines confirming he was still alive, I might have mistaken him for dead—he didn’t move a muscle.
I steadied my breath and lightly touched his forehead with my fingertips.
He’s warm.
I squeezed my eyes shut, then opened them again. Min Yugeon’s face gradually blurred as tears welled up. Afraid they might fall on him, I stepped back. My hands clenched into tight fists as I held back the sound of my sobs.
They said the blade narrowly missed his heart—just barely enough for him to survive.
The fury swelled up again. He’d gotten hurt rushing in to shield me without a second thought for his own life.
He should’ve just let it happen to me.
In the end, his sacrifice was meaningless. The moment he took that knife for me, it felt as if I’d been the one stabbed. Like the most tender, fragile part of me had been ripped apart—I couldn’t breathe.
My body had gone stiff, and my mind spun out into a spiral of frantic, dark thoughts. I kept imagining a future where Min Yugeon had died, leaving me behind, never able to laugh or talk with him again.
No.
I tried to imagine it—but I couldn’t.
I just couldn’t.
“Wake up already.”
My voice came out as a whisper, low and subdued.
“When you do, you’d better be ready.”
The things I’d taken for granted suddenly felt overwhelming.
Maybe I really couldn’t live without Min Yugeon.
Just like he’d risked his life to protect me, I knew that if the roles had been reversed, I would’ve done the same without hesitation.
I’d believed the feelings I had for him were different from what he felt for me… but that was nothing more than a foolish delusion.
I didn’t hate the emotions and desires Min Yugeon held for me. If anything, I welcomed them. My only hesitation was wondering if it was okay to feel that way myself.
“I love you.”
There’d never been any real reason not to return those simple words.
“Min Yugeon.”
“……”
But this wasn’t something I could say to him while he lay like this, unable to respond. I had to wait for the moment his tightly shut eyes opened and those warm, chestnut-colored irises—like always—turned to look at me. That’s when I needed to say it.
I gently straightened his tousled hair and smoothed the blanket. After a brief hesitation, I leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead.
Just as I turned to leave the room—
The door creaked open, almost silently. Through the small gap, Lee Minha appeared.
“S-Suho…!”
Startled, she gasped and quickly clapped a hand over her mouth. I froze for a second, then turned to face her.
Maybe it was because of Min Yugeon’s condition, but she looked absolutely terrible. Her cheeks were hollow, her skin pale—so much so I wondered if she might be seriously ill, not just worn down emotionally.
And more than anything, even though it had been a long time since we’d seen each other, her intense reaction left me momentarily speechless.
“…Hello.”
“……”
Her gaze flicked around, searching for somewhere to land. After a long pause, she finally spoke.
“Right… It’s been a while. How are you? Are you… okay?”
“Yes.”
Even after hearing my answer, she examined me with anxious eyes.
It was unexpected. Her expression wasn’t hostile at all.
So she hadn’t avoided me out of resentment after all.
“Suho.”
Her aimless eyes welled up, and then tears streamed down her face in an instant. Seeing her cry like that, looking directly at me, made my heart sink.
Her body seemed to lose strength and sway, so I rushed forward to steady her. She was so light—far too light.
“What’s wrong, ma’am? Are you feeling unwell?”
She trembled in my arms.
It was like she was overwhelmed by some unbearable fear.
“There’s something… something I have to tell you, Suho.”
Breathless, she clung to my arm. Up close, her expression looked steeped in guilt—toward someone.
I couldn’t understand why she, who came here to care for Min Yugeon, was now showing this strange fear toward me.
“You have something to say?”
“I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry, Suho.”
Her tear-streaked face turned to me, and I froze. She shook her head, sobbing.
“I… I don’t even know how to begin asking for forgiveness. It’s all my fault…”
“Oh, Suho, you’re here?”
A familiar voice interrupted her. I turned my head to see Min Sanghan standing at the door.
Dressed neatly, wearing his usual warm expression.
A little too neatly.
“Why are you like that, honey? You’ve been pushing yourself so hard, staying at Yugeon’s side… Are you not feeling well?”
With belated concern, Min Sanghan came over and gently took Lee Minha from my arms.
“Suho’s still recovering too, isn’t he? You shouldn’t be clinging to him like that when he’s in no condition.”
“……”
Lee Minha looked up at him with horror in her eyes. Her lips began to tremble.
“Suho, I heard what happened. I figured you must be going through a lot, so I didn’t come by before. But… are you feeling a bit better now? Is it okay for you to be walking around?”
Ignoring her reaction, Min Sanghan looked at me with calm eyes and asked. His gaze quickly scanned the injuries visible beneath my hospital gown.
The way he looked at me gave me a strange, unpleasant feeling.
“Yes. I wasn’t seriously hurt.”
“That’s good. That’s a relief.”
He let out a sigh and patted his chest.
“Even though Yugeon ended up like that… at least you’re safe. That’s something.”
To say something like that in the hospital room of Min Yugeon, who’d been stabbed and had to undergo surgery in my place—it was shocking.
Was it because he cared that much about me? Or because he’d grown distant from Yugeon over the years?
But thinking back to the rare moments when Min Sanghan showed affection for Yugeon, I couldn’t believe it was the latter. He always missed his son.
As I searched for the right words, unsure how to respond—
“…Son of a bitch.”
Lee Minha muttered under her breath. It was so quiet I barely heard it.
Both Min Sanghan and I turned to her at the same time.
“What?”
Min Sanghan frowned and asked, and Lee Minha lifted her head.
Her face was twisted with a fierce, boiling hatred.
