Bzzzt—
The moment his phone vibrated, Go Hoon snatched it up like a reflex. There was only one person he hoped to hear from. But instead, the screen lit up with a single annoying spam message.
The light in his wide-open eyes faded. He set the phone down on his desk with a dull thud. Even then, his gaze remained fixed to the pitch-black screen, as if nailed there.
He’d lost track of how many times this had happened. All day, his eyes had been glued to his phone. And every time it buzzed, he reacted like a hawk diving for prey.
But there was still no word from Bae Jung-yoon. Even when he called, it went straight to voicemail. The only thing he heard was that the phone was turned off.
Go Hoon hadn’t said anything about the accident, but it seemed the news had already spread around campus. Just today, he’d received quite a few messages from people asking if he was okay. Some even tried to subtly ask about Bae Jung-yoon.
The whole situation irritated him. People he barely exchanged greetings with were suddenly acting like they cared. So he ignored every message. But he couldn’t bring himself to ignore a call from Kim Yeo-jin.
Staring at the name on the screen for a moment, Go Hoon finally pressed the answer button.
—“Sunbae, it’s Yeo-jin… I heard about the accident and got really worried, so I called…”
As soon as he picked up, Kim Yeo-jin’s careful voice opened the call. Their conversation was short and uneventful. Nothing particularly meaningful was exchanged.
She just told him, in her usual hesitant tone, that she’d been worried and hoped he’d take care of his health. At the end, she hesitated for a moment—like she had more to say—but simply said she’d be in touch again and ended the call.
With a deep sigh, Go Hoon turned his gaze out the window. The stifling heaviness inside him still wouldn’t lift.
Even sitting in class, he could feel people sneaking glances at him. He didn’t need to eavesdrop to know they were whispering Bae Jung-yoon’s name behind their hands.
The person at the center of the storm with him had gone completely silent. What the hell was happening? Go Hoon rubbed his face with both hands. His cheeks felt warmer than usual. And that wasn’t all.
“…Why does it feel so cold in here today?”
Frowning, he muttered to himself and rubbed his goosebump-covered arms. Honestly, he’d been like this since morning. At first, he figured it was just the drastic temperature swing between day and night.
But the symptoms didn’t go away. In fact, they seemed to be getting worse. Now his whole body ached, and chills ran through him like he had the flu.
It felt like all the emotional and physical exhaustion from the weekend had caught up to him at once. No—if he was going to get this sick, why couldn’t it have happened while he was still in the hospital? Why wait until he got home?
The absurdity of his own body made frustration well up inside him. But still, there were things he had to do. He sat through his morning classes and forced himself to eat a half-hearted lunch. If he didn’t eat something, he felt like he’d actually collapse.
He knew doing deliveries in this state would be reckless, so he gave that up. The moment he got home, he crashed for three or four hours. When he finally woke up, he felt a bit better. Maybe.
He dragged himself to the factory and got through his assigned work. But as the end of his shift approached, his condition began to worsen again.
The Factory Manager even asked what was wrong with his face—he looked that bad. But Go Hoon forced a smile and said he was just a little tired from working again.
In the early morning, after clocking out and heading home, his body finally gave out.
The second he opened the front door, he dashed to the bathroom and clung to the toilet, retching violently. After emptying everything in his stomach, all that came up was green bile.
Barely able to stand, he stumbled into the living room and curled up on the bare floor, yanking a blanket over himself.
“Cold…”
Despite the mild spring weather, he felt freezing. His hands and feet were like ice, as if he’d been left alone on a snowy mountain. Outside, it was clearly spring—but it felt like winter had returned just for him.
That was the last thing he remembered before everything went dark.
***
A subtle shift stirred the lifelessly pale face. Bae Jung-yoon slowly opened his eyes. The world around him was eerily silent—so quiet he could hear the faint drip of the IV.
Staring up at the beige ceiling, he began to piece his memories back together. The first thing that surfaced was the moment he’d wrapped himself around Go Hoon.
He hadn’t even had time to think. By the time he glanced over, the ground beneath Go Hoon had already started collapsing. The instant he saw it, instinct took over—he lunged toward him without hesitation. After that… they rolled across the ground together.
But that wasn’t the end. Bae Jung-yoon had drifted in and out of consciousness. He remembered waking once when he heard Go Hoon calling his name, trying to shake him awake. And again when the world had gone quiet.
When he barely managed to open his eyes, blurry and faint, what he saw was a cat perched precariously in a tree.
…Kkongddeok-i.
The name had almost slipped from his lips. Or maybe it had and just faded away.
He tried to move his hand—but it wouldn’t respond.
The very one he’d been searching for was right in front of his eyes, but he couldn’t reach him. He couldn’t even lift his arm. The cat steadied its stance, like it was about to leap across to another branch. Like it could disappear at any moment.
Bae Jung-yoon burned that image into his eyes as his heavy lids drifted shut. His body and mind felt as though they were chained to a boulder, sinking deeper and deeper underwater. Everything was unbearably heavy.
And then, his consciousness faded away.
That was the last memory he had of that day.
Bae Jung-yoon didn’t stop there. His thoughts reached further back—specifically to the night before the accident. The moment he brought Go Hoon into the guesthouse bathroom after he suddenly started vomiting.
Even after throwing up everything, the alcohol seemed to be hitting harder, and his condition had clearly worsened. Just a few minutes earlier, his words had only been a bit sluggish—but now, he was noticeably worse.
Clicking his tongue, Jung-yoon slung an arm over Hoon’s shoulder and supported him by the waist, guiding him to sit on the edge of the bathtub. But Hoon’s upper body swayed dangerously, rocking back and forth. Worried he might fall, Jung-yoon ended up easing him down to sit on the bathroom floor instead.
‘Hoon, want to rinse your mouth?’
He filled a cup with water and handed it to him. Thankfully, Go Hoon took it without complaint. He swished the water around in his mouth and spat it into the tub, then stood up and turned on the faucet.
As Go Hoon splashed water on his face with both hands, Jung-yoon silently watched from the side before handing him a towel. After wiping his face, Hoon slumped back down on the bathroom floor, looking utterly exhausted.
Jung-yoon crouched in front of him, quietly watching as Hoon blinked slowly, eyes dazed. Gently, he asked,
“So, what was it you were trying to say?”
“…What?”
Go Hoon’s thick brows twitched, like he hadn’t caught the question.
“You said there was something you wanted to tell me.”
“I did…? Oh, right. That.”
After rolling his eyes in thought, Go Hoon finally seemed to remember. He dragged out his words, then suddenly pointed a finger at Jung-yoon.
“You… stop being so damn nice to me.”
Jung-yoon let out a faint laugh. Was that it? That couldn’t be all. Just a moment ago, the way Go Hoon had opened his mouth as if to make some heavy confession—it had felt so serious, like he was about to say something huge.
Resting his chin on his hand, Jung-yoon stared at him. He couldn’t figure this guy out. What exactly was going on inside that head? And what would it take to finally get the answer he wanted from that stubborn mouth?
…Would he have to wring it out of him by the neck?
Entertaining that thought for a second, Jung-yoon instead softened his tone and asked,
“Why?”
He genuinely wanted to know. Most people liked it when someone treated them well. So why did Go Hoon seem to hate it?
Curious, he asked. Go Hoon let out a short breath and let his hand fall limply onto his thigh.
“Because… I can’t give you what you want.”
“And what exactly do you think I want from you?”
“Hmm. Something like that…”
Go Hoon gave a soft, breathy laugh—something rare from him. Jung-yoon’s gaze lingered on the upward curve of his lips. So he could make that kind of face too.
Usually, his expressions were stiff, and even when he smiled, it was barely there—just a fleeting flicker. But this softened face gave off a completely different mood. And suddenly, Jung-yoon wondered—
What kind of face does Go Hoon make when he cries?
“…I almost made a mistake, like I was under a spell or something.”
His breath, thick with alcohol, brushed the air as his hazy eyes fixed on Jung-yoon.
“Now that I’ve thrown up, I feel a lot more clear-headed. That’s what happens when you just take everything people give you—it messes you up.”
Jung-yoon said nothing, simply watching him. Go Hoon kept mumbling, head hanging low.
“So I’m not gonna get greedy. Just like this… this is enough for me.”
And with that, Go Hoon fell asleep.
The only sound in the quiet bathroom was his steady breathing. Jung-yoon leaned closer, bracing both hands on the edge of the tub. He stared at the peaceful face in front of him for a long time.
And then he understood—Go Hoon would never say it. He’d never reveal the truth with his own mouth. Not even on his deathbed.
He hadn’t realized how tightly he was gripping the tub until his knuckles ached.
After finally getting a long sleep and slowly sorting through everything, the conclusion was simple: it was time to end the game of hide-and-seek.
Exhaling into the still air, his black eyes unfocused, Bae Jung-yoon sat up and looked around the empty hospital room.
“…Of course. As if he’d show up just because his only grandson got hurt.”
He muttered flatly, then reached up to stretch his neck.
His chest and back felt a little heavy, but it didn’t seem like anything was broken. If anything, his head was clearer than it had been in a long time. Probably thanks to finally getting proper rest.
He pulled the IV from the back of his hand and stood up barefoot, stepping across the room. When he opened the door to the hallway, several people turned to him in surprise, their eyes wide.
Glancing over them slowly, Bae Jung-yoon asked in an indifferent tone:
“Where’s Go Hoon?”
***
When Go Hoon came to, the sun was starting to set.
“…Still hurts like hell.”
His voice was barely a rasp. It felt like his throat had been scraped raw with sandpaper. He’d hoped that sleeping it off would help, but that had just been wishful thinking.
He turned his head and looked at the wall clock.
4:20 p.m.
He pushed his sweat-drenched body upright. Dizziness hit him hard—the whole world felt like it was spinning.
There was no way he’d be able to work in this condition. But he still didn’t want to say the words “I need to take a day off.” He’d already missed too many.
This wasn’t normal—he needed to go to the hospital. If things got worse and he ended up in the ER, it’d be even more of a disaster.
Decision made, Go Hoon moved. He threw on a light zip-up hoodie, grabbed his phone from where it had been tossed aside, and shoved it into his pocket.
He shuffled toward the door, slipping on his sandals, but the moment he opened it—
There stood someone he never expected to see.
“…Bae Jung-yoon?”
