“Now you have to blow out the candles.”
With an excited look, Kang-woo turned off both the kitchen lights and the living room lights. In the darkness, the candles stuck into the cake shone brightly. Deep shadows fell across Seok-ho’s sharply defined features.
Kang-woo held Seok-ho’s gaze steadily.
“Happy birthday, hyung!”
After receiving the congratulations, Seok-ho unexpectedly said,
“What about the song?”
“You want me to sing it for you?”
“If you’re going to do it, do it properly.”
Was he serious? Kang-woo had assumed that if he offered to sing, Seok-ho would immediately try to stop him. This reaction was unexpected.
A faint trace of mischief—something rarely seen on Seok-ho’s face—lingered there. It seemed that the lullaby Kang-woo had sung the night before had left quite an impression.
“Hurry up and sing.”
Seok-ho simply looked at him, as if fully intending to wait until he did. Meanwhile, the candles kept melting.
At this rate, the wax would start dripping onto the strawberries and whipped cream. With no other choice, Kang-woo cleared his throat and awkwardly began the birthday song.
“Happy birthday to you— Happy birthday to you—”
Truthfully, he usually only listened to songs. He rarely had the chance to sing them out loud like this. The lullaby had been short with similar notes, so it hadn’t been obvious—but now that the song was longer, his pitch and rhythm were completely off.
“Happy birthday dear Seok-ho hyung—”
When he pronounced the word “dear,” his voice even cracked. As if proving just how terrible his singing was, the corners of Seok-ho’s lips twitched.
“Happy birthday to you—”
By the time Kang-woo’s cheeks had begun to warm faintly with embarrassment, the song finally ended.
At the same moment, Seok-ho blew out the candles with a soft whoosh.
“Did you make a wish?”
Kang-woo hurriedly turned on the kitchen lights as he asked, quickly changing the subject. He was trying to get ahead of any comments Seok-ho might make about the singing.
Seok-ho looked at him like he’d just said something absurd.
“No.”
“You’re supposed to make a wish when you blow out birthday candles. You can still do it now.”
“Forget it. It’s not like it actually comes true.”
Seok-ho crossed his arms and looked at Kang-woo. The gesture clearly showed he had no intention of doing as he was told.
Kang-woo stared at him for a moment. Then he clasped his hands together. After closing his eyes quietly for a few seconds, he opened them again.
“What are you doing?”
“I made a wish for you instead, hyung.”
Seok-ho let out a short laugh at Kang-woo’s bold reply.
“What did you wish for?”
“I wished for you to be happy.”
Since he had made the wish on behalf of the birthday person, it was only natural.
Kang-woo had wished for Seok-ho’s happiness. In truth, using the birthday as an excuse, he had made the wish with complete sincerity. He wished that Seok-ho’s life would be filled with happiness. That no matter what hardships came, he wouldn’t look back too often—but wouldn’t focus only on the future either. That he would sometimes take a break along the way while steadily continuing forward.
Just as he had done until now.
At the same time, it was also a promise Kang-woo made to himself.
Let’s be happy. Always—just like right now.
“Since I made a wish for you, hyung, only happy things will happen to you from now on.”
A smile settled on Kang-woo’s lips. But the amusement slowly disappeared from Seok-ho’s eyes. He gazed at Kang-woo quietly—just like he had earlier that dawn while watching him sleep.
Kang-woo didn’t avoid the gaze.
After a brief silence, Seok-ho suddenly moved his hand. He picked up the disposable cake knife and cut the cake, then placed a slice onto a plate and handed it to Kang-woo.
“Eat.”
Kang-woo pushed the plate back toward the center of the table.
“Let’s eat together. Since it’s your birthday, you have to eat at least one slice.”
Holding his fork, Kang-woo waited obediently.
Seok-ho slowly moved his hand and cut into the cake with his fork. Following him, Kang-woo also cut off a small piece and placed it into his mouth.
The cake was pleasantly sweet and soft. As Kang-woo savored the taste with satisfaction, his eyes met Seok-ho’s.
“It’s good, right?”
Kang-woo asked with a bright, smiling expression. Seok-ho looked at him for a long moment before giving a short evaluation.
“It’s sweet.”
To Seok-ho, the birthday cake was very sweet. Sweet enough to make his tongue sting.
***
Kang-woo stopped folding the laundry and stared at his vibrating phone. On the screen, the contact name “Professor” was displayed.
For a moment he tilted his head, unable to remember who exactly that contact was. Then he recalled the doctor Seok-ho had mentioned as his friend.
“…Ah, that person.”
It was a number that had already been saved in the phone when Seok-ho gave it to him. But why would that person be calling him?
With a puzzled expression, Kang-woo pressed the call button and lifted the phone to his ear.
“Hello?”
When he answered cautiously, a friendly voice greeted him from the other side.
— Kang-woo, how have you been? You remember me, right? Seok-ho’s doctor friend. Jung Young-wan.
So his name is Jung Young-wan.
They had never had the chance to properly introduce themselves before, and Seok-ho had never mentioned Young-wan’s name either, so this was the first time Kang-woo had heard it. Still, he didn’t bother pointing that out.
“Yes, I remember. But what made you call?”
— Oh, nothing serious. I just wanted to check how you’re feeling. Seok-ho didn’t say anything to me, and checking on a patient’s condition is technically my job.
“Oh, I’m fine. I haven’t fainted or felt dizzy even once since that day.”
— Really? That’s good to hear. You’re not uncomfortable anywhere else, right?
After that, Young-wan continued asking about his physical condition for quite some time. Only after Kang-woo reassured him about three more times that he was truly fine did he finally seem satisfied enough to stop.
— Alright. If you ever feel like something’s wrong with your body, contact me at this number anytime. Don’t hesitate.
“Okay. Thank you for checking on me.”
— Then I’ll hang up.
Since that seemed to have been his only reason for calling, Young-wan moved to end the conversation right away.
“Ah—wait a moment.”
Without thinking, Kang-woo stopped him.
— Yes?
“Well… um…”
He hesitated for quite a while, unable to finish his sentence.
— Yes, Kang-woo. I’m listening. Is there something you wanted to ask me?
Perhaps noticing his hesitation, Young-wan gently guided the conversation forward. Hearing his calm voice, Kang-woo gathered his courage and finally revealed the reason he had stopped him.
“Do you know if something happened to Seok-ho hyung the day before yesterday?”
— Seok-ho? Hmm… I’m not sure. We didn’t talk that day.
Well, that made sense. Young-wan must also be busy with his own life. It wasn’t like he would be in contact with Seok-ho every day.
Realizing he might have asked a pointless question, Kang-woo was about to change the subject when Young-wan spoke first.
— Why? Does it seem like something happened to Seok-ho?
Kang-woo hesitated for a moment before deciding to be honest.
“He couldn’t sleep at dawn. And he seemed… kind of down.”
— It’s actually normal for Seok-ho to not be in a good mood most of the time.
Young-wan pointed that out in a lightly teasing tone. Kang-woo paused briefly before responding.
“Well, it’s true he doesn’t usually look happy… but yesterday was a little different.”
Yes—this he was certain about. At dawn yesterday, Seok-ho had definitely been different from usual. He had looked like someone completely wrapped in a dark shadow.
Young-wan hummed quietly for a moment before carefully sharing his guess.
— It’s probably because yesterday was Seok-ho’s birthday.
After hearing the answer, Kang-woo became even more worried.
“…But why would he feel bad on his birthday?”
When Kang-woo asked in a serious voice, Young-wan hesitated before answering.
— Actually… Seok-ho’s birthday is also the anniversary of his mother’s death.
“…His mother’s death anniversary?”
Kang-woo repeated the words in a stunned voice. It was something he had never expected to hear.
— Yes. So around that time of year, he tends to become a bit sensitive.
“Ah…”
— If Seok-ho suddenly got irritated with you or acted a bit sharp, please try to understand. He has his own personal reasons.
Even though Kang-woo hadn’t explained anything about what had happened between them, Young-wan immediately began defending Seok-ho. That probably meant he cared about him a great deal.
Without realizing it, Kang-woo let out a long sigh.
“I didn’t even know… and I threw him a birthday party.”
His heart felt unsettled.
What if he had unknowingly exhausted Seok-ho by pushing things his own way without understanding the situation?
— You threw Seok-ho a birthday party?
Meanwhile, from the other end of the line came cheerful laughter.
“…Yes.”
— What did you two do?
“I cooked him something nice, made him blow out candles on a birthday cake, and even sang him the birthday song…”
— It’s okay. You didn’t know anything. That happens. As long as Seok-ho didn’t get angry, it’s fine.
When Kang-woo replied in a subdued voice, Young-wan tried to reassure him.
Unfortunately, Kang-woo barely heard what he said. His mind was somewhere else.
— That’s surprising. That guy actually went along with all that.
Young-wan muttered to himself, but Kang-woo didn’t hear that either.
Right now, his thoughts were filled with only one thing: The worry that he might have accidentally made a very big mistake with Seok-ho.
***
Still bothered by the call with Young-wan, Kang-woo waited for Seok-ho but eventually dozed off on the sofa.
His head nodded as he drifted through sleep when suddenly his cheek felt stinging, making his eyelids slowly lift.
He felt someone’s gaze.
Without thinking, Kang-woo turned his head. And met a pair of pitch-black eyes directly.
Seok-ho was there. He was standing over him, silently looking down.
“Hyung.”
Kang-woo called out to him in a low voice.
“When did you get back?”
Then he straightened his body, which had been sunken into the sofa.
“A while ago.”
