#093
Yeon Tae-soo did not respond to the “cooperation” letter from the Ministry of Defense. The minister would be under investigation for bribery charges anyway.
He knew that Yoo Seong-woo was Yeon Tae-soo’s weakness. That was why Yeon Tae-soo kept Yoo Seong-woo hidden in Eden and wouldn’t let him leave.
Yoo Seong-woo understood Yeon Tae-soo’s feelings completely, so he didn’t particularly try to go outside. The animal hospital was just a means of making a living anyway, and any urgent animal patients would go to other nearby hospitals.
The problem was his physical condition. His body, which had felt like embracing a time bomb, was now eerily symptom-free, making him even more anxious.
Of course, Old Man Chang had given him injections, but he said they were only temporary measures. The same went for Sentimeneide. The effects of the medicine should have worn off by now, yet no symptoms appeared.
Perhaps his body was exerting its maximum function one last time, like how a candle burns brightest just before it goes out.
Yoo Seong-woo suddenly wondered how Yeon Tae-soo would react if he completely broke down.
He recalled the first time his body had frozen in front of him. That intense expression as he looked down at him would be unforgettable even without memory functions.
Yeon Tae-soo treated him as if nothing had happened. Yet occasionally, an indescribable, deep sadness could be glimpsed in his eyes.
What if he had pitied him instead? Yeon Tae-soo didn’t pity him. He just suffered. And he was careful with him.
Yoo Seong-woo didn’t know how much time he had left, but he resolved to spend all of it as Yeon Tae-soo’s lover.
His desire for life still remained. But it was different from before.
He still wanted to live. But the reason was that he wanted to spend more time with him.
Before, he had blindly wanted to prolong his existence, but now it was different. Without being able to stay with him, there was no meaning in prolonging his life.
Yeon Tae-soo was still kind. No, he was even kinder than before.
Yoo Seong-woo knew that he was using all his connections to try to meet his creator’s mentor who was detained in India.
That was also why Kim Ji-heon had been losing sleep and traveling all the way to India in person.
Eden was safe, and Yeon Tae-soo never left his side. Everything was abundant.
Yoo Seong-woo fully accepted the kindness he offered. Each day spent in the golden castle was brilliant.
Yoo Seong-woo engraved each day spent with Yeon Tae-soo into his database. He held him inside himself more meticulously and carefully than when he carved sculptures.
The database related to him sparkled as if alive. No matter how many times he layered data, erased it, and layered it again, it wasn’t enough.
Sometimes he hated him intensely, and other times he identified him as the most important person, someone who must be protected. Errors embellished his emotions like blemishes on a jewel. Made them real.
Yeon Tae-soo’s kindness was addictive. Yoo Seong-woo wanted to entrust everything to him and spend time pretending not to notice.
Yeon Tae-soo worked while staying with Yoo Seong-woo all day. He seemed to be hiding absolutely nothing.
And if Yoo Seong-woo showed even the slightest discomfort, he would become frantic. Just like now.
“…It’s not a headache, just a momentary dizziness.”
“That’s precisely the problem, that dizziness.”
Once again today, after Yoo Seong-woo had suffered in bed until dawn and gotten up close to noon, Yeon Tae-soo insisted on giving him one of the spare injections from Old Man Chang.
“Besides, this medicine… isn’t the material quite expensive? And difficult to make…”
He could guess how much effort Old Man Chang had put into making this drug. Even though its effect was temporary, he felt embarrassed to receive it. It was like administering painkillers to a stage 4 cancer patient. And extremely expensive, hard-to-obtain painkillers at that.
“Don’t you think I’m dizzy because you tormented me so much last night?”
“…How did I torment you?”
Facing his clearly hurt expression, Yoo Seong-woo’s resolve finally weakened.
“Fine.”
As he obediently extended his arm, Yeon Tae-soo carefully administered the injection. For some time now, there would be no symptoms again.
Even without injecting Sentimeneide or Old Man Chang’s medicine, his symptoms had decreased amazingly in recent days. But he didn’t know how long this calm would last.
Was it his body’s final squeezed-out strength as he had suspected, or had the corrosion temporarily stopped?
He hoped it was the latter. Whatever it was, his body seemed to be buying him time as a final gift.
Since getting an injection from Old Man Chang didn’t relieve fatigue, he lay back in bed, unable to hide his exhausted appearance. Yeon Tae-soo watched him cautiously and slipped into the blanket.
“…Am I too aggressive?”
His timid question made Yoo Seong-woo burst into laughter. Yeon Tae-soo became sullen.
“Isn’t this amount normal?”
“You’re asking me… Don’t you know better, Mr. Yeon?”
He naturally assumed Yeon Tae-soo would know better about typical cases, given his greater experience and numerous friends, but Yeon Tae-soo clamped his mouth shut. Yoo Seong-woo playfully tapped his chest with the back of his hand.
“Acting like such a playboy…”
When he narrowed his eyes in mock criticism, Yeon Tae-soo became even more flustered and adjusted his lying position. Under the pretense of fixing the blanket, he suddenly embraced him, burying Yoo Seong-woo’s face in his chest.
“What can I do if I can’t control myself when I’m with you?”
“That’s a serious problem.”
He mumbled his answer against his chest. Yeon Tae-soo embraced him more tightly.
“I should drink alcohol or something. Otherwise, all my attention is focused only on you.”
Despite saying that, he still managed to work well—but Yoo Seong-woo refrained from pointing this out. Instead, while being held, he fidgeted with his fingers, fell into brief contemplation, and then carefully suggested:
“Would you like me to teach you… sculpting?”
He felt Yeon Tae-soo pause. He even released his embrace. With a slight delay, Yoo Seong-woo thought he had misspoken.
“I-I’m sorry. I’m not even human… It doesn’t make sense, does it? A machine teaching a human…”
How upset must he have been? It must have been similar to a dog offering to teach a human how to write. Besides, Yeon Tae-soo had disliked androids so much…
Intellectually, he knew that Yeon Tae-soo no longer disliked him. But occasionally, like now, he would suddenly realize how different their species were.
With his face flushed, he was fumbling to get out of bed when his eyes met Yeon Tae-soo’s.
His face looked so sad, as if he might cry at any moment, that Yoo Seong-woo froze in his awkward position.
‘Is he extremely angry…?’
The sadness filling Yeon Tae-soo’s expression was not immediately comprehensible. As he stared blankly at the frozen Yoo Seong-woo, Yeon Tae-soo sighed, somewhat relieving the sadness in his expression.
“I should be the one apologizing.”
“…What?”
“How much more must I apologize to you for my sins to diminish even slightly?”
Only then did he understand the cause of Yeon Tae-soo’s sadness. You can see right through me.
He knows everything—my fear of the occasional sense of alienation, my lingering fear of him.
Yoo Seong-woo reached out to him. He cupped his seemingly firm jaw and cheek with his hand.
Instead of saying he hadn’t done anything wrong or that it was okay, he just maintained eye contact for a long time. Yeon Tae-soo kissed him. It was a simple kiss without tongues intertwining, but it was warmer than ever before.
***
Yoo Seong-woo really did teach Yeon Tae-soo how to sculpt. Unfortunately, Yeon Tae-soo had no talent for it whatsoever. It was serious.
“How can you handle a prosthetic so delicately but not this?”
He asked out of genuine curiosity, but Yeon Tae-soo felt wronged.
“How are those the same?”
“You handle knives well too, don’t you? And you’re good with your hands…”
As the nuance became peculiar, Yeon Tae-soo’s expression changed.
“Am I good with my hands?”
Unable to lift his flushed face, Yoo Seong-woo just fiddled with the wooden piece. Yeon Tae-soo wasn’t one to miss such an opportunity. He suddenly embraced Yoo Seong-woo from behind and thrust his hand inside his clothes.
“T-ticklish… haha!”
“Why? You said my hands were good.”
“W-wait! Eek!”
Only after tormenting him until he was gasping for breath did Yeon Tae-soo pick up the dropped carving knife and the unfinished sculpture.
That day, Yeon Tae-soo finally completed something. It was a lump that looked somewhat like a rhinoceros or a coiled snake, but Yeon Tae-soo insisted it was an elephant.
When Yoo Seong-woo seriously asked which part was the buttocks and which was the tail to help refine its shape, Yeon Tae-soo snatched the lump from his hands.
“Just throw it away.”
But Yoo Seong-woo took the sculpture back from Yeon Tae-soo’s hand.
“No. Give it to me as a gift.”
Yeon Tae-soo let out a hollow laugh. He couldn’t hide the corners of his mouth constantly turning up.
“Your taste is strange. You won’t accept expensive watches but you want this.”
Yoo Seong-woo smiled slightly at his words and fiddled with the sculpture of indeterminate shape.
If he said that this small, clumsy sculpture seemed to be asking not to be thrown away, would that be an unmachine-like, sentimental thought?
Perhaps it was a rationalization for his desire to possess something created by Yeon Tae-soo.
If he belonged to Yeon Tae-soo, he would probably say it someday. Please don’t throw me away.
Even though this body is broken and worn out, please don’t throw it away.
***
The minister’s bribery case ended ambiguously due to insufficient evidence. Yeon Tae-soo said it was what he had expected.
While never leaving Yoo Seong-woo’s side, he endlessly handled various matters. Kim Ji-heon seemed to be running around busily on his behalf.
All Eden employees were busy. Even men familiar to Yoo Seong-woo would only briefly greet him before regretfully moving on. Kim Ji-heon seemed to know that Yoo Seong-woo was an android, but others apparently did not.
Whenever Yoo Seong-woo looked at him with eyes asking why he was with him while others were so busy, Yeon Tae-soo would just grin with a reassuring expression.
In truth, Yoo Seong-woo was grateful to him. He was afraid of revealing his selfish desire to spend more time with him as if nothing was wrong, but simultaneously felt that it might be okay to be a little more selfish.
After spending several weeks like an idle rich man, one day arrived.
Another official document came down from the Ministry of Defense.
“…It’ll be difficult to refuse this one.”
Kim Ji-heon, who checked the document after Yeon Tae-soo, sighed deeply. Yoo Seong-woo verified it too.
The document stated that there would be a ceremony commemorating the sixth anniversary of the end of the war, and requested his attendance. The military had invited Yeon Tae-soo as a disabled veteran.
“Wouldn’t it be better to go?”
Yoo Seong-woo looked up and asked. Yeon Tae-soo, who had been looking at the floating document, touched his chin and nodded.
“Well, it wouldn’t hurt.”
“What?”
Kim Ji-heon wore an incredulous expression. Ignoring him, Yeon Tae-soo made eye contact with Yoo Seong-woo.
“I’ll just go and show my face.”
Yoo Seong-woo pretended not to notice as Kim Ji-heon’s complexion darkened with death, unable to understand what his superior was planning.
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
