#084
Yoo Seong-woo quickly became friends with Old Man Chang’s granddaughter. The girl, who had been subtly wary of Yoo Seong-woo, immediately changed her attitude when he folded a paper rose for her.
“I agreed to hold hands in exchange for protecting the old man and his granddaughter. It’s a temporary alliance, but well… it could be extended if necessary.”
At his words, Yoo Seong-woo seemed somewhat relieved.
Watching Yoo Seong-woo fold his fifth rose, Yeon Tae-soo recalled what he had said a few hours ago.
‘Isn’t that too harsh?’
Ordinary people don’t call an android performing its mission ‘harsh.’
Weren’t androids developed so humans could pass off all difficult tasks to them? Moreover, it wasn’t even painful or strenuous physical labor, just drawing pictures, yet Yoo Seong-woo had said it was ‘harsh.’
‘Even Old Man Chang didn’t say anything about it.’
Previously, he would have dismissed this as our Mr. Yoo being overly compassionate, but now it bothered him.
“Seong-woo.”
“Yes.”
Yoo Seong-woo, who was meticulously refining the rose shape even after finishing folding it, answered without turning his head. His focused appearance didn’t look like a tin can at all.
“The old man said we should stay overnight here.”
“Oh, that’s fine with me. If night driving is difficult for you, let’s stay.”
Though there would be no difficulty if he switched to automatic driving, these words of consideration for him were hard to describe as mechanical.
“Let’s stay then.”
“Yes, that’s good.”
And finally, that face smiling at him.
When the emotions in those eyes are so vivid, so recognizable.
Anyone could see that you love me.
How can you be a machine? By what measure?
But what if his suspicion was correct?
Yoo Seong-woo, handing the paper rose to the android girl without knowing anything, just looked innocent.
All the careless words he had uttered in front of Yoo Seong-woo came back to him one by one. He had openly expressed disgust more than once or twice—what had Yoo Seong-woo thought each time?
‘What have I done?’
Only now did he recall the expressions that awkwardly averted his gaze or tried to hide discomfort. Could it be true? Are you really not human, and have I committed countless wrongs in front of you?
Being so kind-hearted, you would have tried not to show it even when hearing all kinds of harsh words to your face. All while still being hurt.
His quietly clenched fist tightened. His prosthetic hand made a creaking sound, and his real hand’s nails dug into his palm.
“I should fucking die…”
“Pardon?”
Yoo Seong-woo quickly raised his head at the muttered words.
“Nothing, nothing.”
Yeon Tae-soo couldn’t face him directly.
‘It can’t be true.’
He could only hope that he wasn’t an android. Since medicine used for humans is often used for humanoid androids too, Sentimeneide must just be one of those.
It wasn’t because the one he had given his heart to was a species he so despised.
It was because he couldn’t think of any way to compensate for the wounds he had inflicted.
Moreover, what he had observed also served as grounds for his deduction.
‘He kept showing signs of being sick… That’s probably why he was trying to leave me.’
He was trying to leave because of illness. Hadn’t he tried to hide his pain several times? Even today.
‘I wish you would save me, Mr. Yeon.’
On the day he first confessed, hadn’t he asked to be saved? Anyone would recognize those as the words of a sick person. No matter how he thought about it, it must be due to illness.
‘Yes, he can’t be one. I’ve said harsh things in front of him multiple times—there’s no way he could smile so happily about it.’
If he were really an android, he would have been hurt and his heart would have already left.
He consoled himself with just that thought.
***
The guest room in a corner of the bunker was a bit small but cozy and warm. Old Man Chang had meticulously prepared their bedding.
Yoo Seong-woo lay down first on the bedding spread in the small room. When Yeon Tae-soo didn’t come to his side, he tapped the space beside him in puzzlement.
“Aren’t you tired? You’ve been driving all day.”
Instead of lying down, Yeon Tae-soo stood still, gazing at him. Seeing unfamiliar emotions mixed in that gaze, Yoo Seong-woo felt a little afraid.
Yeon Tae-soo, who had been staring at him, shook his head and approached. Without lying down, he placed his hand on Yoo Seong-woo’s cheek.
“Seong-woo.”
Why did he feel anxious when his name was called in such a sweet voice?
“There’s nothing more foolish than hiding an illness. You’re a doctor, so you know that, right?”
“What’s this suddenly…?”
He slightly furrowed his brow, then understanding what Yeon meant a beat later, he sighed.
“I’m not sick. Nothing hurts. It’s just… I did some hard work when I was at Mount Jiri, that’s all.”
But he regretted his words as soon as they left his mouth. Yeon Tae-soo’s face immediately hardened.
‘…Does he think I ran away because I was sick?’
Even if that were the case, he couldn’t let the misunderstanding continue. What if he was taken to a doctor? As soon as they entered a hospital, all kinds of machines would identify him as an android.
Yeon Tae-soo’s expression showed no signs of softening. It would have been better to see his previous expressionlessness.
He was about to add that he was really fine, but fearing it would only create more misunderstanding, he simply closed his mouth. Yeon Tae-soo’s hand moved from his cheek to pull up the blanket.
“Okay. If later… if you ever feel sick later, be sure to tell me then.”
“…Yes.”
It was an obvious lie, but he had no choice but to answer. And Yeon Tae-soo’s face immediately relaxed upon hearing that transparent lie.
Yes, you still trust me. Showing me Old Man Chang’s android granddaughter wasn’t a test after all.
Then I must still be sinning against you.
“Let’s sleep. It’s late.”
Although his muscle fatigue level was low today and not sleeping wouldn’t particularly harm his body, Yoo Seong-woo closed his eyes.
At least when he was with him, he wanted to appear as human as possible.
Yeon Tae-soo turned off the light and burrowed under the blanket. Yoo Seong-woo pressed his face against his chest and curled up in his embrace.
Yeon Tae-soo had a faint smell of soap. Although he had smoked not long ago, he must have scrubbed himself thoroughly as there was no trace of the smell.
The arm holding him was firm but not painful. The cold prosthetic hand was kept outside the blanket, away from him. Every action of Yeon Tae-soo’s that touched him was considerate.
Newly realizing this fact made him feel overwhelmed and apologetic, so he took a deep breath. Yeon Tae-soo’s scent came through between the soap smell. Surprisingly, the headache he had been having disappeared.
Your mere existence saves me like this.
“Baby, shall I sing you a lullaby?”
Laughter burst out at the joke he threw after being serious on his own. As he chuckled into Yeon Tae-soo’s chest, Yeon’s hand gently stroked the back of his head.
“Seong-woo.”
His whispering voice already sounded like a song.
“I love you.”
Thump, thump. His heart beats.
The heart that had been beating softly suddenly felt like it would burst. His heartbeat seemed to be accelerating dangerously, but strangely, no warning message appeared.
He tried to raise his head, but Yeon Tae-soo’s hand lightly pressed down on it. He felt the vibration transmitted to his forehead pressed against Yeon’s chest.
Yoo Seong-woo soon realized. Ah, this isn’t my heartbeat, but yours.
“I love you, Seong-woo.”
His voice trembled slightly at the end of his repeated confession.
He couldn’t bring himself to answer those words. That I love you too, even if it’s a learned fake emotion. Even if your feelings for me are also fake, created by me.
That I want to call these fake emotions in this fragile body that seems about to break, love.
Because I feel this broken body might collapse again the moment I utter those words.
Yeon Tae-soo’s rapidly beating heart seemed to speak to him. That it’s okay, everything will be okay, so he could confess everything. But Yoo Seong-woo just closed his eyes.
Come to think of it, both your heart and mine have black moonstones. It’s good that we have at least one thing in common.
Yoo Seong-woo relaxed his entire body to let his muscles loosen and allowed his brain to rest in the human way.
He made a promise in his half-sleep. When I wake up, I’ll tell you I like you. I’ll confess again.
Even if he couldn’t dare say ‘I love you,’ it seemed he could say ‘I like you’ over and over again.
With that promise, Yoo Seong-woo slowly drifted off to sleep.
***
Early the next morning, as soon as he opened his eyes, what appeared on his visual display was a warning message he had never seen before.
Unknown Error: Partial Sensory Blockage
He wanted to get up from bed, to at least take out the hidden pills and consume them, but his body wouldn’t move at all. His muscles were stiff and rigid. His limbs felt like they weren’t his own.
As he lay stiff, unable to even blink his eyelids, he felt his senses gradually drifting away. His vision blurred and his hearing became muffled. Even the feeling of stiffness disappeared from his body.
The severing of his bodily senses was so vivid that he felt like shuddering. A clearer and more unpleasant energy than when blood was draining spread from the middle of his body to his limbs.
He needed to take some measures before Yeon Tae-soo woke up, and tried to move his fingertips, but there was no sensation at all.
This isn’t good. Just imagining what he would think seeing him like this was terrifying. Yet why was his mind so slow and dull?
It felt as if time was flowing slowly. He had heard that malfunctioning androids experience time differently from humans. Because they occasionally pause like this.
If so, could I, who am diseased, follow your time, even a little? Could I catch up to your lifespan, even in this way?
Through his dimmed senses, he felt a presence right beside him. Yeon Tae-soo had woken up.
If only he could close his eyes. But he couldn’t move even his eyeballs, which were fixed in one place. Over his body, which wasn’t even allowed to see him, he felt a familiar warmth. How is it that I can still feel you when everything else is so dull?
The image of Yeon Tae-soo looking down at him formed hazily on his visual display. It was like looking up at him from underwater.
He knew how he must appear to Yeon. Stiff, with eyes open, not even breathing. The appearance of a broken machine, not a human.
It was so blurry that he couldn’t make out proper shapes. He couldn’t discern Yeon Tae-soo’s expression, but it was probably filled with anger.
But I can no longer deceive you.
Even if I could move my body again, I wouldn’t be able to run away now.
It wasn’t a sudden resignation. It was bound to happen someday. Deceiving him had been more painful than revealing the truth to him.
Yeon Tae-soo seemed to be shouting something, but he couldn’t hear properly. He seemed to be grabbing and shaking his body, but he couldn’t feel it.
What little sensation remained was fading one by one. His muffled ears now couldn’t hear at all, and his vision turned white. Perhaps this is… the end.
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
